Chapter Twenty-One: A Fallen Star
It was late afternoon in Royal Woods, Michigan, dark clouds all but blackening out the Sun (but, oddly…no rain). A large group of people had come together…in the middle of a cemetery.
The Loud family had gathered together, all dressed in black. Lynn Sr. held Rita in his arms, as she tried to soothe Lily (who did little more than softly cry in her mother's embrace). Lori held Leni's hand, holding her younger sister (who was silent, but had tears running down her cheeks) in close. Luan was holding "Mr. Coconut" in one hand, before closing her eyes (and his, as well) in sadness. Luna was quick to notice her roommate's "stance", moving closer to place a comforting hand on Luan's shoulder. Lynn stood with her arms crossed, trying her best to keep herself from appearing upset…but, was failing (based on the look on her face). Lucy (looking even more upset than usual) stepped up to her roommate, reaching out and taking ahold of Lynn's hand in a gentle grip (Lynn only remaining still for a moment, before her hand tightened gently around Lucy's). Lincoln held Lena in his arms as she bawled her eyes out, trying (and failing) to keep his own tears back. Lana, Lola, and Lisa were all standing near their older brother…the twins putting their hands on their roommate's shoulders to try and comfort her, while Lisa merely stood near her with crossed arms (but the sadness was evident by the look in her eyes).
Behind the Louds…stood the Bensons. Bailey held the worst mood out of her family, her hat in her hands as the tears came racing down her cheeks (though…not a sound slipped past her lips). She held Bradley in her arms, doing the best she could to soothe her baby brother (with only a limited degree of success). The rest of her brothers stood close by around her, doing the best they could to comfort their sister (her younger brothers all did what they could to hug their sister). Victor and Rebecca stood in the back of their grandchildren, frowning as the former held the latter in his arms.
Many further residents of Royal Woods were also in attendance of the funeral, including the families of Clyde and Laura (Lincoln and Lena's best friends, respectively). There were, however, people in attendance who weren't…"normal", so to speak.
One man walked up with a frown on his face…a blonde man with a circular red, white, and blue shield strapped to his back. Three figures stood next to him: a muscular man holding a hammer/axe hybrid, a brown-haired man with a bow slung on his arm, and a large green creature (his left arm in a sling). A man in silver armor (helmet down) stood behind these four, a man with red goggles and a woman with long brown hair standing next to him.
Standing behind them was a similar group. A blonde man stood in-front of his group, a frown on his face and his hands in the pockets of his red jacket. By his leg, stood a humanoid raccoon…one with crossed arms, and a gaze away from him in-front of him. A humanoid tree-like being was next to the raccoon, frowning deeply with head lowered and eyes shut. To the left of the blonde man, was a black-haired woman in green with antennas coming from her forehead (and tears running down her beautiful cheeks). To the right of the blonde man, was another man…a large, muscular one with grey skin and red lines across his body (an almost…impassive frown on his face).
Other figures of…"notice" spread throughout the graveyard included a brown-haired teen in a red and black suit, a man cloaked in a red cape, a man and a woman dressed in insect-like suits (red for the man, and yellow for the woman), and a blonde woman dressed in a red and blue suit (faint yellow energy glowing around her).
Standing at the VERY front of EVERYONE present…stood four black women. The eldest was dressed in an elegant white outfit, a large "hat" on her head. She held a hand over her mouth, trying (and failing) to keep the tears from falling out. A younger woman (with shorter hair and dressed in a golden outfit) put a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her (only seeming barely successful in keeping herself calm). Standing behind them was a bald woman dressed in an orange outfit, a spear in hand (the impassive frown on her face behind contrasted by the tears that fell down her cheeks).
In front of them ALL? A teenage girl, dressed in a black outfit with white markings on her face. She was kneeling in front of the grave, face in her hands as she cried her eyes out without "limitations".
Just then, she felt a small hand on her shoulder. Picking up her head to look back…she saw Lena standing there, similar tears falling her own face. Without a word, Lena raced forward and threw her arms around the teen's neck in a tight hug. The teen was stunned for a moment…before she wrapped an arm around Lena's body, appreciating the five-year old's gesture.
Soon…everyone in attendance slowly walked towards the tombstone, each and every one of them marring similar expressions of sadness and grief on their faces. One by one, they each stepped forward to a large dirt pile…reaching out and taking ahold of a clump in their hand.
One at a time…they each threw their "dirt clump" onto the brown-colored coffin that rested in the grave. By the end of it all…only Lena and the black teen remained, now holding hands as they walked up to the grave (their tears having lessened, but were still coming down). At the same time, they each threw their clusters onto the coffin (fully covering it from view). "Above" the grave…sat a tombstone.
Here lies T'Challa. A protector. A king. A hero.
Everyone present took a few steps back, taking a moment of silence…to honor the fallen Black Panther.
Good-night sweet prince; and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
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While the funeral was happening below…no one was able to notice that they were being watched from above. There, standing atop a literal cloud…was a figure cloaked in black, white lines on his body and a cat-like head.
Just then…his helmet retreated into itself, revealing the face of a black man with black hair. This…was King T'Challa. The Black Panther looked down to the graveyard below (miraculously, being able to perfectly see the ground and all of the people), a deep frown on his face.
Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around…he saw a figure dressed in red and golden armor, with blue light coming from their eyes and chest. Their own helmet retreated in on itself…revealing a fair-skinned man with black hair.
The two men locked eyes…and no words were needed between them. Slowly but surely, more "figures" began walking in behind the two men. These included a pale-skinned man with short silver hair, a green-skinned woman with long black hair, an orange-skinned man wearing a golden cape (and a yellow gem on his forehead), and a blonde woman wearing near all black.
All of the respective "fallen" simply…stood there on the cloud, staring down at the earth with sadness plain across all of their features. Just then, they felt…something behind them. When all they all turned around, they saw…a being. One dressed in a pitch-black cloak (with a hoodie that left their face "invisible"), holding a scythe in hand. This being lifted up a single hand, motioning (with two fingers) the others. Their message was clear.
Come children, it's time.
Sharing similar frowns, the figures began to follow this being one-by-one. T'Challa and the man in red and gold were the last two remaining, the latter motioning for the king to follow. The Black Panther took in a DEEP breath through his nose…before letting it out through his mouth. He took one final tragic look at the earth, before he began following the others…ALL (seven) of them walking towards a bright light in the distance.
(Author's Note: Yeah…not a "technical" chapter this time around, so much as a…tribute. As I'm sure many of you know, Chadwick Boesman (the actor most famously known for his role as "King T'Challa/The Black Panther" in the Marvel Cinematic Universe) tragically passed away at the age of 43 less than two weeks ago on August 28th. The actor died of colon cancer, which he'd apparently had for FOUR YEARS (literally his entire run as T'Challa). I heard that over these four years, Boesman played a role in SEVEN different movies (which is pretty impressive for a healthy actor, let alone a sick). Not only that, but he also premiered at red carpet events AND did charity work…all while receiving treatment for his condition. Chadwick Boesman…is a trooper. Plagued by one of the most dangerous conditions on Earth…and STILL showed such dedication to his craft.
Covid-19 already made 2020 a…"difficult" year (to say the LEAST), but this? This just makes it worse. 43 years old…he was taken away too soon, too young.
I'm sorry if you're upset that this isn't an "official" chapter, but…I figured since I made Lena a fan of the MCU, a tribute like this wouldn't be COMPLETELY out of left-field. I'll try to get another ("proper", if that's how you want to classify it) chapter out as soon as I can. Thank you guys SO much for your patience, you have no idea how much I appreciate it.
Goodbye Chadwick Boesman, may you rest in peace.
