Reyaa: Hello, Reyaa and Cherrybomb here, we decided to do a collab so we did!
Cherrybomb: Yes Hello! We hope you enjoy! We have crossed time and language barriers, went inter galactical and even rode magic ponies to bring you our story!
Reyaa: We would like to remind that none of this is ours... besides the plot.
Cherrybomb: Was that nessacary?
Reyaa: Yes. Now Shush.
Cherrybomb: ON WITH THE STORY!
BGM: Greensleeves
Where petals should have blown down from the breeze- there was a freezing drift of flurrying white snow.
Where the sun should have been lighting his memory- there were clouds making everything more depressing.
Where birds should have sung their merry songs to accompany bright moods- there was no song in the world that could fix their feelings.
Where there should have been many people, loved ones from all around, promising to keep him alive in their hearts- there were only four.
A tree-like crimsonde let himself lean his weight on one of his oldest friends. She understood his pain, although hers was nothing like the taller man's. She shared his pain, but only just a sliver of it. Although she was usually the quiet one because it was simply her personality. Today she wasn't quiet because it was in her personality to be it, she was it because words could not describe the feelings hanging in the air. Words could make no one feel better. Words were useless on this day.
Instead of her usual gelled hair, she simple brushed it today; no antenne, no spick and span, simply a black hat adorning her blonde hair. She wore a simple grey dress in attempts to cover her body. She paid no mind to the freezing cold. She had no need to. Two other men stood around the lanky man using comforting rubs on the back to try and keep him calm. It showed an attempt of togetherness. Let the crimsonde know he was not alone. But both men knew their back rubs, although genuine and true, wouldn't convey the feelings behind them. No gesture in the world could make the crimsonde feel better.
The petite man, smaller than the rest of the group stopped comforting the tall man and crossed his arms in attempts to keep himself warm. He was the most prepared for the cool weather; he wore a black trench coat over black slacks, but was still in a state of disrepair. His eyes usually a brilliant color blue, were hollow and dull as he stared out before him. His mouth pressed into a thin severe line as he couldn't find a better way to place them. He had been the furthest connected to the one they were gathered around, yet was still pained.
He pushed his slate hair out of his eyes and turned to his dirty blonde counter part to make sure he was okay. The dirty blonde counterpart was almost as affected as the crimsonde. His eyes filled with water as he stared at the ground before him. His hands clenched into tight fists by his sides. His posture stiff as he tried to process all the thoughts invading his mind. His hair stood in odd tuff and odd conjectures. An obvious style mishap. The man, a teen really, wore swim trunks, a hoodie and tshirt and tie. His mind couldn't seem to process to wear the appropriate thing. His feet were bare in the snow. But need not worry, he had an affinity for water.
And then there was the crimsonde. The one in the worst state. He couldn't seem to speak. He dressed in a fine black suit, but that was only put on in gesture of the uptmost respect. If he couldn't comprehend anything else, he could still love and respect. His hair matched his liveliness. Where as it would normally jet from the back of his head in an intensity like that of fire today it hung with the limpness the boy did. Small drops of water formed out of falling snow, hanging from the tips of his hair that lay stuck to his cheeks. His skin paler then it's usual whiteness. His eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep, lack of peace, lack of everything. His shoulders tensed and hunched. His Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he couldn't seem to swallow the lump stuck down his throat. The gestures his friends had made in comfort. The hands on his shoulders, the quick one armed hugs. He was numb to them, he couldn't feel them like he should. He was moving because he needed to be present, but he didn't want to be present. He wanted to shut his mind off, curl up in a ball, hide forever. Drown in the numbness his muscles were offering him. Sink in the silent despair raging on in his head. Open his mouth to scream the soundless screams that wanted to escape his vocal cords. But he knew that he wouldn't want him to give up.
His body froze upright when he heard the crunching of gravel behind him. The people who lowered were here. His eyes dully traveling over the people who carried his beloved, he almost felt a shock go through him as his eyes landed on the coffin. The shock had occurred more then once this day. When he woke up and realized what day today meant. When he had put on his suit. When he had decided his hair should just stay down. When his friends had come by to pick him up. The shock of realizing his blond was gone, kept repeating itself over and over. Constantly re-realizing that this was real. It isn't a dream. It happened. He is gone.
The wooden box that held so many memories, so many actions, so many thoughts, so many words, so many feelings, was hovering over the hole in the ground it would be lowered in. With one final look at the coffin that held his beloved he let the tears come. Never again would he see bright eyes lighting when he came around. That blonde hair could never be so soft after now. His laughter so unique wouldn't reach his ears anymore. He would be gone everytime something went amiss.
He laid down one pink begonia. Silly memories with just one flower. Tears falling down silently over his cheeks, he turned away before he could watch the men lower the lifeless body.
Something odd happened then, the crimsonde saw- no, it couldn't be. Was it? He must be delirious from depression. He must be hallucinating. Then as quick as it was there it was gone dissapearing like an eclispe. Slivers slipping slowy away.
His cheeks wet, his jaw locked in place and his muscles rigid. His heart ached and thudded in a melancholy rythm and he could only whisper:
"I'll always love you."
BGM: Pachabel Canon in D minor, Mozart
A grey day is what the silverette would categorize this day under. Not because of the snow that was falling delicately onto the ground. Not because of the endless rows of headstones circling around them. Not even because of the many tears spilled before him. The teen standing before the silverette had shoulders rigid in posture, his teeth gritted into a tight lock. The silverette almost had the urge to place a hand on the teens shoulder, to give him a small gesture of comfort. But he had never been good at offering comfort, so he wasn't going to offer any now.
As the snow fell on his hair, matching in color, he looked through the locks at the scene before him. The people standing around the grave could not see him nor the teen. This was thanks to the petite man with slate hair, standing amongst the people around the grave.
The slate haired man had the ability to make things seem as they are not. While they are here, they seem not to be. The teen was present for personal reasons. Emotional reasons the silverette would not comprehend for a long while to come. The silverette was here to make sure the teen didn't do anything rash. Which is exactly the reason as to why he ended up placing a hand on the teen's shoulder after all. As the people around the grave dispersed into different directions, the teen stepped forward, nearly crossing the boundary of the illusion created by the slate haired man.
The silverette gripped the teen's shoulder, squeezing it tightly to keep him from moving.
"It is done." His silver locks fell over the teens shoulder, who then shoved the silverette's hand off of him in an annoyed gesture.
"This is wrong." The teen murmured in a soft, hauntingly dark, voice. The silverette wrinkled his nose delicately at the emotional display the teen was offering him.
"Welcome to our world..." And although it sounded dramatic, the silverette was known for it's monotony.