You wait around for a little longer, trying to make conversation with Nikita, but she is not having it and just puts most of her stuff out to dry including the coat, tie, shoes, pants and everything except her undershirt and her underwear. Going full Risky Business. You and Lucifer just sorta hang around, feeling a little embarrassed as the employees of the inn mutter something to each other and cast judgmental looks at you. Occasionally Nikita snaps at them in Iraqi after hearing something they whisper.

The employees consist of a short man with a comb over and a thick black mustache, coupled with thick black eyebrows, and he wears some odd outfit similar to a bellboy, with a fez. You think this guy is the owner. Another seems to be his son who has less eyebrows and a haircut that is thin on sides and long on top, sorta spiked, like Bart Simpson, almost. He has a thin mustache, looks like it’s barely out of puberty. He wears a stained white t-shirt and some Nike tracksuit pants. The last you think is the wife, who has on one of those face coverings and an elegant green dress and barely speaks but glares the hardest.

They give you concerning levels of self consciousness but from association with Nikita, who seems more angry than embarrassed. Around 8 minutes into this, Peters walks in, gun in hand, with mud smeared all over himself. He looks at you for a second, then gives a thumbs up and mutters about needing to take a piss, before wandering back outside. He’s back about 5 minutes later and comes in to sit at the table with you and Lucifer.
“Man, you’re making me feel short now. Got anything like that for me?” He asks with a chuckle
“No, you’d have to ask Rick, cause what you are doesn’t exist for me yet.” You reply
“Well shit then, guess I’m outta luck-“
“Peters, we’re gonna have to fight a fucking dead guy.” Lucifer blurts out
“He’s clearly not dead!” Nikita yells back “it’s Solemani, who’s name shouldn’t resonate with you because he’s not alive for your time, but he killed a lotta people and then got blown up as soon as he went to Iraq one time. It’s an issue, and we need Adam to know about this.”
“So… what we gotta kill him again? Are we allowed to kill people?”
“Probably, I killed a US Sergeant in the Embassy, or at least someone posing as such.”
“But Nikita, I am a sergeant in the US army!”
“Yeah but you fought the Nazis instead of taking their whole ideology and everything.”
“I… all y’all sayin shit that makes me think we didn’t win the war but y’all say we did.”
“Well capitalism and facism aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“They complement eachother like peanut butter and jelly.” Lucifer jokes
“Or Nazis and taking the ‘easy way out’” Nikita adds, with the finger quotations. This spawns a back and forth between Peters and the two, that you quickly tone out as you’re a little thirsty, so you go to the Fez guy and ask him for water.

He doesn’t seem to understand so you tilt up your hand and pretend to put water into your mouth. He sorta squints at you and makes a stirring motion with his hand. Coffee should work, so you nod your head and he puts a finger up to indicate he’s gonna take a minute, before walking into the back. As this happens, you lean up on a table a little away from the rest of the group and wait. A bit later the son comes to your table with a glass cup on a glass plate with tea inside it. Not what you were expecting but not unwelcome, either. You thank him and he nods his head but continues staring at you. You look back at him and pretend to write on a receipt, but he shakes his head.
“Not money, you.” He replies
“You know English?” You ask
“Little.”
“Ah. Ok. This is tea right?”
“Is tea.”
“Ok… so, do you need something?”
“No… yes? Why you big? Why two legs?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, guess that’s kinda weird right? Um, vampires?”
“Vampires? Edward?”
“Edward?”
“The uh…” he mumbles, looking off at nothing “book, love story, with dog people.”
“He’s talking about the twilight saga, it’s like a romance novel between a chick and a werewolf and a vampire and it’s some degenerate shit.” Nikita pipes up
“You want to translate if you’re listening in like that?” You remark
“No. Busy.” She replies and rejoins the other conversation, so you go back to the boy and nod.

“Ah, so, vampire make you?”
“Sorta? Like I was human before.”
“You man?”
“Yes? How could you tell?”
“How- what? You say you man.”
“I… oh, I get you ok. Human, like you and your family. Not pokemon.”
“Oh? How?”
“Magic.”
“Gin-curse?”
“Gin? Alcohol?”
“No… demon magic?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Ok… I like absol. very good!” He says with a big smile
“Ah, I do too. Good pokemon-“
“What’s up Ladies!” Muscle Mon announces as he barely squeezes through the door, being trailed by Rick and Adam

He continues in, then walks straight over to you with a massive grin. He still obviously towers over you, cause 10 foot whatever is too fucking big for you. He squats down to be eye level with you and you now recognize his eyes are about the size of your palms. He gets almost uncomfortably close, causing the worker to start walking away hurriedly.
“Can I help you?” You ask sarcastically
“You got taller.” He replies
“Yes I did.”
“YOU KNOW WHO ELSE GOT TALLER?”
“God damn it.”
“MY MOM!” He yells and then starts laughing like an idiot. You chuckle a little at the absurdity of it. “But for real dude, you rocking that shit, but why are you dressed like Saddam Huessein Bro? Like in Iraq is crazy dude.”
“Cause these are his clothes.”
“Bro… are you for real?”
“Yeah.”
“Grave robber!”
“Hey, it was either this or go naked.”
“Bro. Did you at least wash them first?”
“And what fucking time spans would I have to do this?”
“I don’t know. Just like, a guy probably died in those.”
“They were on display in an underground vault that stored a lot of riches.”
“Like?”
“Gold, guns, this sword.”
“And you stole the sword?” He asks and you lean in
“I’m pretty sure we stole fucking everything.” You whisper

“Not cool bro.”
“It was already stolen.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“Look, I am friends with the current administration of Iraq. Me taking it, which I did, means I can restore it to the country and make sure it actually goes back to the people, rather than US companies or terrorists.” Nikita butts in “and regardless, I’m plundering it from plunders who plundered it from a plunderer. It’s three times removed from the people and just getting passed around like a prostitute at a frat party.”
“Bro.”
“Anyways, anyways. Adam, I need to catch you up on some shit.” Nikita speaks

*You are now Claire*
(Been a fucking while hasn’t it.)
You are currently at home. Chris is still out, shit isn’t good right now. Your nerves are killing you. You miss your boyfriend. You miss your friend. You miss the simplicity of life. You miss the stresses of college. Now there’s just pain. Suffering. Fear. War. Terror. Nothing good. You’re not normally this nihilistic, but the truth of now is forcing it. You want to escape this place, you want to run far far away from here, to take you and your friends with. But you can’t. You can’t really do anything right now. You stare out the window of your house, ripped straight from a tv show, at two others that had the same effect. You look towards Maria’s. There’s been a light on in there since she left. It shines into your window at night. It’s an annoyance to sleep with, but you can’t turn it off. It wouldn’t feel right.

While the main force, or what’s left of it, fights, the rest of you had an agreement for a memorial. Something that will be there when the others return. Maria was a great woman, who always wanted to bring the group closer, do something while the men were at war, or so to speak. You think this can honor her memory and wishes. Violette started a plan for a memorial service, putting it in St Basil’s Cathedral within Nikita’s box. It’s a giant church, and Violette felt it was fitting. It seems a little too vibrant and big for you, but she said Maria was a Christian, or at least a fan of Cathedrals, having gawked over the Cologne Cathedral and Mt St Michael. She’s not sure how devoted Maria was, but she at least liked churches architecturally.

Violette’s initiative with this was kind of a shock, because you thought she never really interacted with anyone. Regardless, Violette and Maria seemed to have a relationship enough for her to memorialize a friend, even if she’d known her for less than a month. Less than a week? You can’t really tell how time moves here, or if the boxes reflect that. There’s night and day in yours but Nikita and Clint only have night, while Peters seems to be perpetually in a bloody sunset. You decide to get dressed, getting into a black dress that was tailored for you by Colt. You made sure that mother fucker included no mind controlling rapey-bdsm shit in it this time. The fucking asshole. Regardless, he had custom outfits made for everyone. Yours is very Victorian. Long, black, frilly, long sleeves, poofs on the cuffs, some ruffles. It seems very… showy, though it’s not designed to be. You’d expect to wear something less flashy and attention getting to a funeral. You don’t, for sure, know though, as you’ve never been to one. You thought you’d go to one for Chris’ dad, but he never even did a service. You know he didn’t like his dad, but that seemed a little too cold for a simple deadbeat.

You finish getting changed and look at yourself in the mirror. It’s still weird to see yourself. It’s unrecognizable, and you expect you’ll maybe get used to it in time, especially if it’s permanent like Rick believes. You’ll have to. Still, it’s not just the body you inhabit. The dress was made so it wouldn’t be a pain to deal with all the fur and whatnot, but you look like Lydia from Beetlejuice. It’s an odd appearance, but is it bad? No? There could be worse. Regardless, this day isn’t about you. You begin walking down the stairs, black heels clacking on the wood. You grip the railing, fearing what might happen on these stairs, that you’ve seen before in the series. You get to the bottom and walk out the door. Seeing Donut also leaving her house. She wears a black suit with a black tie and a white undershirt.

The both of you stare at each other, say no words, and walk out into the main box one after the other. You enter the main box and find only two people there. Violette sits by the entrance to Nikita’s box, acting as a directory for the event. She has on a similar dress, but shorter. She’s kinda emo anyways, so it’s not too weird for her. What is weird is Daren, who stands around nervously, wearing a similar suit to Donut. Donut walks in but you walk over to Daren.
“H-hey.” He smiles at you
“Hey.” You return, with a bout of silence to follow
“Fuck dude. I’m not used to this type of stuff.”
“Me neither. I’m just kind of in shock about all this.”
“Dude, same. Like fuck, why her?”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t weak or anything, it was just some shit show.”
“Do you know how she went? Was it like peaceful- not peaceful, cause- I mean, did she suffer?”
“I… I can’t really- that’s not important. We’re here to recognize her life and honor her in death.”
“We don’t know her life dude. She was always vague with that.”
“All we can do is remember who she was here. With us.”
“She really meant something to everyone. Like it’s fucked dude, everyone was just fucking destroyed when they learned she died dude. Like almost no one cared for the others. Like only Cristobal seemed to care about El Toro but no one shed a tear for the dragon or the Ben Franklin guy.”
“Yeah… you talked to Cristobal?”
“Yeah. Dude wanted a smoke, so I gave him one. He said he’s gonna do something for El Toro and then show up at the memorial later. Besides him and the squirrel lady, everyone else is there already, so I think Violette is just waiting on us to get in there.”
“Oh- shit, ok.” You say and start walking over

You greet Violette at the door and she leads you in. It’s not hard to find the church in the bleak and brutalist city, as it’s a very illuminated and bright building. Also it’s literally the first fucking thing you see as you exit the Kremlin. You begin walking over in silence, seeing Clint waiting outside in the snow, wearing another black suit. He doesn’t have his hat for once, and starts approaching when he sees everyone, ushering the group in. You follow and enter it. Navigating the bright and floral halls, until you reach the main area where everyone is supposed to congregate. On the walls are some charcoal sketches of Maria, made quickly due to lack of any photos of her for this. You look around and see only Donut. Just Donut. There’s only the five of you here. That feels like disrespectfully low. But there’s not many people left. There was 18. Now there’s 13, with 6 gone at all times. It’s lonely. But you’re almost all here.

Violette begins walking to the front of the group and speaks
“I would like to start the ceremony by saying I am glad you all came.” She speaks “I know I don’t have a great relationship with everyone here, or any with anyone. I admit that is entirely my fault though, but this isn’t about me, it’s about Maria, for I did have some relationship with her. She may have been the nicest person I’ve ever met, and though I did everything to distance myself from her, she kept trying to interact with me, make me laugh, talk to me- something I didn’t appreciate then, and cannot forgive myself for ignoring now. I’d like to start by saying that I am sorry for how I treated her, how I pushed her away, and how I regarded her like an annoyance, like a task to have to deal with each day. I can’t say I never liked someone taking an interest in me, I did even then, and didn’t realize it until later. I had made an effort to interact with her shortly before they went on that suicide mission. I opened up a little, we talked, we agreed to make plans to really interact, and then we went on our way.” Violette says, wiping tears from her eyes, causing lines of mascara to start running down her cheeks.

“I should have done so sooner. I’m so fucking sorry for that, for mistreating her, but I know she didn’t mind, and that sucks so much worse. She was too good to me and I- I treated her like shit! She’s like the first fucking person to take a chance on me, and I just ignored her, and now she’s fucking dead-“ Violette stops, turning from the group to cry. After a few seconds, she returns, wiping away more tears, creating even more black discoloration in her white fur. “I’m sorry. Everyone. What I’m trying to say is she was just- she was too pure and now she’s just gone. I wish it were me instead of her. I really do. We need more people like her in this world. Someone who’s never deterred to help someone, someone who’s not judgemental, someone who doesn’t give up on others- more people like Maria. I’m sure you guys can say the same right? She was too pure for this world.” Violette stops and you all nod in agreement.

After a while, Violette continues:
“I’m going to miss her. I wish we could do more for her- like I tried to talk to Colt and find her family and try to send them something or tell them, but he said he couldn’t share that, so… fuck, man. I guess it’s just us here for her now. She was a good person- no, a great person. And I think we all have to be better for her. She believed in me, which is shocking cause I don’t even believe in my own fucking self, and she just saw something in me that I couldn’t even see. So, yeah… I’m gonna be better, for her… if that makes sense.” She finishes and the crowd nods again. She waits a little, wiping away more tears before beginning again “I’m pretty well done. So, does anyone else have something they want to share, or say?” She asks, and you and the rest of the group answer in agreement. “Ok, anyone want to go first?” She says and the crowd stays silent
Do you volunteer to give a little speech first or let someone else?


PAGEBREAK


(Vote tied again)
You’re left to indecision on whether to go first, and so Clint starts
“Hey y’all, uuuh, not really used to zhese types of zhings, on account of most zhe funerals I’ve been to being lead by a priest and bein’ someone I didn’t really care too much about, so bear wizh me for zhis one.” Clint announces as he gets to the podium “like many of zhe rest of y’all I had a pretty good relationship wizh Maria, and I zhink I was in her main friend group here. Zhat doesn’t mean I knew too much about her life, cause again, she didn’t share too much beyond her being like a mechanical engineer in training at MIT. Maria was a fake name, don’t know why she settled on zhat, but I asked and she ain’t Hispanic, she was white, and just went wizh zhat. Um, what else did I know about her? Ah, she hates zhe taste of broccoli, had a mild peanut allergy, and had a fear of heights.” Clint finishes, then starts mumbling to himself, trying to think of what to say next. He doesn’t cry like Violette, he just seems like the type to not ever really cry, not because he looks down on it, but just because it’s not hardwired into him.


The mention of Maria’s fear of heights also carries weight with you. She may have been a little afraid during the tower fight and that may have done her in in the end, or something. You don’t know and don’t know if you ever could.
“Alright, can’t zhink of much else beyond zhat, or beyond what Violette said, so… I guess I’ll just talk about our relationship zhen” Clint begins again “so, I met her towards zhe beginning cause she introduced herself to everyone zhen and zhere. Granted, Rick did too, but fuck him, cause, ya know… uh, so, I didn’t really get to talkin to her too much till we got our moves and shit, zhen she just sorta became a big part of my days here. We got real close once-“ Clint stops, then pulls his collar away for a second “since we lost Spear Mint… she was someone I got close wizh, we made plans, zhen she never came back… I guess I can relate to Violette wizh zhat.” Clint finishes and takes a big sigh “so, to go more off zhat, I don’t zhink it’s a big secret zhat I liked Spear Mint, like, really liked. So, her deazh fucked me up pretty bad, and immediately after hearing zhe news, Maria just showed up to try to comfort me, and I spent a lotta time wizh her, cause she’d listen, tell me zhings would be ok... I ain’t over Spear Mint yet, but I guess wizh Maria’s help, I was getting past some stages of grief, but now Maria’s dead… fuck man.” Clint stops again, leaning over the podium and burying his face in his hands

The group is silent for a little, not looking at Clint, but staring at anything else
“How- am I- am I just not supposed to get close to anyone now? Like, is zhat how people are gonna survive?”
“We’re your homies bro! And I don’t think anything getting to Claire cause they gotta go through DQ first, and that’s one tough son of a bitch. We ain’t leaving your ass!”
“Heh…” Clint replies with a forced smile “so what about you zhen?”
“Fuck that sad shit, roll my corpse up into a fat blunt with like a bed sheet and light me the fuck up! Use my body as your communion, smoke from-”
“You’re not made out of weed!” Violette snaps
“You don’t know that.” Darren says with a giggle
“We’re getting off topic.” Donut interrupts
“Nah, zhat’s good.” Clint says “but anyways, I’ve been talking too much, let me wrap zhis up. So, yeah, Maria was a good rabbit, and an even better person. It’s fucked zhat she’s gone- like zhat shit happened too fast for me to even process our first loss, now zhe arguably best person here is dead and… shit man.”
“Yeah man, shit happened too fast.” Darren says
“You wanna go now?” Clint asks
“Yeah.” Darren says, and the two trade places. “So, uh… bear in mind, this is probably the first time you’ve seen me sober, so… I’m not the best right now, but I felt like this shit should be done sober, outa respect.” Daren announces, twiddling his thumbs. You’re not really noticing a difference though, he’s pretty much the same “so, everyone… Maria was the homie, man. Like I could shoot the shit with her for hours and hours about some random ass shit and she’d fuck with it… damn, fuck man, I thought this shit would come easier- ok, locking the fuck in.” Daren says as he puts his hands open to his temples, shakes them a little, then swings them forward like he’s trying to cast a spell. “Ok fuck. Yo, she was so fucking nice, like you could get her to do shit she’d rather stick her hand in acid than want to do, but she’d do it cause she was tryna be helpful and… fuck… how do I wanna approach this… ok, bandaid off. So, like, If you don’t know, I wasn’t really born a girl- or like, I’m a dude, before- and that shit kinda confused me when it happened, so I’m like down one limb and up two fat bags, but like… aight fuck it, she taught me how to masturbate.”
“Woah!” Clint yells in shock
“DARREN!” Violette yells in anger. You and Donut say nothing, just sorta stare in silence.
“Bro, I’m sorry, but like how the fuck do I bring that up proper?” Darren claps back, frustrated
“You don’t!” Violette yells back “you don’t bring that up at all!”
“I’m sorry, but it was significant, and like she was nice as fuck-“
“We do not need to hear zhat!” Clint interrupts “we especially do not need zhe image of our dead friend helping you do… whatever girls do to get off.”
“But like-“
“Darren!” You finally call out
“Fuck, sorry… sorry. So, like, I fucked with her heavy for that, and she’d always go and be nice as fuck to me, and like help with whatever, and imma miss her.”
“Please fucking tell me you’re done.” Violette loudly mumbles
“Yeah, almost.” Darren says before pulling a flask out of his jacket “this one for you girl!” He says as he pours the entirety of it on the floor of the church. At that point Violette walks up and yanks him away from the podium. There’s a second or two of silence, before you and Donut look at each other and they motion you up with their head. You head up to the podium and look down upon the rest of the group. You watch as Daren is thrown to the side by Violette, and you wait for him to get up and get back to the group. You stare down at the liquor on the ground, soaking into the wood. The smell is bad, very potent. You look back to the crowd, they look back at you. You have to just start, can’t be worse than Daren’s.

“It’s not been easy.” You begin “with everything going on, most days I just want to curl up in a ball and cry, sleep the entire day, fearing C- Disaster Queen won’t come back. I know it’s not right to talk about being scared for another person’s life at someone else’s funeral, but I’ve been terrified ever since this started, since before anyone died. That being said, I’ve been acting different, irrational, snappy, cruel. I’m not myself right now… in more ways than one, and I know I sound like a coward to say all this now, but I just have to…” you say before taking a deep breath “I didn’t take the change well, and I’ve just been having others care for me this whole time. I know I didn’t have it the worst- my fucking boyfriend has it far worse than me, for Christ’s sake, and I’ve been a bitch to him too.” You say, beginning to tear up “I’ve been such a fucking bitch to everyone! Everything I touch turns to shit, and I- I…” you begin fully sobbing “I have been bitching about my own stupid fucking problems when everyone else has actual problems! I’m such a piece of shit for that!”
“Hey Claire.” Clint begins “you don’t have to-“
“No! I need to say this, cause I’m just such a selfish bitch who needs to make it about her always! I’m fucking useless to this team, I’m even more useless as a friend because of how I treated Maria. I was just fucking baggage the whole time, using her as a tool to offload my own shit, and every bit of advice I’d blow right by and then continue to just use her!”

“I was awful to her!” You yell “I treated her like shit- like we even made this fucking pact thing with the shared box, I was gonna have some sorta cooperation but it just turned into fighting with Maria as a mediator for my own bullshit, cause every one of my fuck ups would blow up back at her! Like… I don’t know, she said to try to befriend everyone, telling me this, and I assumed she meant my fucking boyfriend cause he’s the loner type, never had many friends, but then immediately becomes besties with the soldiers, and the Nazi and his whore, and I’m over here picking fights with everyone! Like, she told me, and I had my head so far up my own ass that I couldn’t take a hint- I just blew her the fuck off with that and got fucked up, pissed off everyone, and had her drag my dumb, high ass back to my fucking house! Dude, fuck me!” You hiss as you slam your fist on the podium out of frustration at yourself

“I am so fucking useless, and here I am making her death about me! I want nothing more than to apologize for my bullshit and just… I’m sorry, Maria! You didn’t fucking deserve this!” You yell, crying more “I even told her what Rick found out about- and it’s some heavy fucking shit, I’ll talk to you guys later, but I don’t even give her a second to process it and just go right back to complaining. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard her get mad at someone, cause I gave her no fucking time to process that shit… I’m sorry. I’m just awful.” You say and walk down from the podium and storm out of the church. You stomp over to the statue of two dudes with swords and just plop yourself down next to it, sitting in the snow, leaning against the statue. This is probably another monument to some dead who gave their lives for Russia and you’re just sitting under it thinking only about your own problems, as per usual.

It took your friend’s death to wake you up about your own bullshit. How fucking dense are you? Just some dumb bitch, who can’t think of anyone but herself! You sit in the snow for a while, crying, feeling sorry for yourself, feeling shame for your outburst, feeling shame for how you treated Maria, feeling shame for how you treat Chris. People are being too good to you and you need to be better for them or else you’ll be abandoned. You can’t lose anyone else. You stay out for an unknown amount of time, unbothered by the snow as your pelt keeps you plenty warm. Eventually, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and look up to see Cristobal standing above you, red eyed with a stern face, with one hand on your shoulder and a cross necklace in the other.
“Are the others inside?” He asks in perfect English, to which you nod. He offer you his hand and you take it. He pulls you up and the two of you walk into the church, finding everyone is getting ready to leave. Donut takes one look at Cristobal and walks past, out of the church. You look to everyone else, solemn looks on their faces, as Cristobal enters the area where you held the service, places the cross on the podium, then gets to his knees and begins to pray. The others watch him with you, waiting about 3 minutes, before he stands and walks back out.
“I give my prayers to her and all else” Cristobal says “I pray that they have a better life without this pain. That they have their place in heaven, while we have ours on earth. I pray they live in harmony and without sorrow. I also bid your forgiveness for not arriving sooner, but it would not feel right to wait on Toro.” He finishes and then walks out of the church back to the Kremlin. The rest of the group wait some more and then begin to follow. You make it to the main box with everyone, with no signs of Donut Dakota, Cristobal, or the main group.

“What… what’s the thing Rick found out?” Violette asks
“I… we should sit down for this.” You say
“Where should we talk about this though? Prolly not my box, that shit’s trippy.” Daren says
Whose box should you go for this talk?

PAGEBREAK


You can’t decide whether to do Clint or Violeta’s and the rest of the group seems similarly indecisive. There’s a small back and forth until Clint suggests doing it in Maria’s house. He says that it may help with some closure and maybe there’s a possibility of finding something relating to her friends and family that you could send back to them regarding her death. You agree to that and everyone else does as well. The four of you begin heading to your box, and enter it. All three of them look astonished at the place, so fake, yet real, something you can touch but shouldn’t be able to at all. It looks straight out of the cartoon but realistic, and you don’t blame them, the weirdness of it all still exists for you too, even after living there. The group takes about ten to fifteen minutes to take it all in, gawking at each house, paying the least amount of attention to Maria’s house, so you guess whatever show hers came from was the least popular show. Eventually everyone recollects themselves and heads over to Maria’s. You’re not really familiar with this house, you’ve only been inside like once before and it wasn’t for long. You walk up the steps to the door and twist the handle. It’s unlocked, not like there’s even a reason to lock shit here, who’s gonna rob you when pretty much everything inside came from the same person, so it’s not much of a concern.

You open the door and walk into a basic living room, barely illuminated by the light from outside, with a tv, sofa, and stairs leading up. It’s just… empty. You don’t know what shenanigans would transpire here or if it would be destroyed as much as the griffin house, but it’s just still. There’s no dust, Maria was lost too recently for that, and she let nothing fall into disrepair. Violette and Clint seem to share the same sense of just emptiness while Daren looks like a kid in a candy shop, walking off into the house to explore. It feels disrespectful but you haven’t seen the show so you don’t know what he’s looking for if anything. You look up the stairs to see only the light from the bedroom faintly casting a glow on the second floor. After a few seconds, Violette finds the light switch and turns it on, illuminating the room, showing pictures of cartoon characters, which you assume are from the show. An alien, a fish, some white people. Remnants of a family you don’t know, who were never real. You begin walking up the stairs, finding the light switch at the top and then looking for the light that’s on. You follow it to the east of the house, opening the door and finding its not a bedroom, it’s a very large bathroom.

The light you thought was where Maria slept was likely left from her final shit. Here you were thinking it was some symbol that Maria was still here, either sleeping, or with you in sprit. Some sign that she was somehow not gone, some way you could feel she was still with you, some semblance of comfort… but it’s just the light to the bathroom. Just a mistake, nothing more, something that meant nothing, something you’d be ok with turning off… but not yet. A toilet or not, it is still some remnant of her, something you’re not ready to be rid of just yet. And yet… you feel stupid for thinking of it as something more. You walk back down the stairs and see Clint, Darren, and Violette chattering in hushed tones, sitting on the couch. They stop as soon as they hear you, and turn to stare at you.

You stare back for a moment more, then speak.
“Before Maria left, she left a light on. It’s been burning a hole in my side every night, just gleaming into the sky, like some sort of remnant of her, something to hold onto. I felt like I’d never have the heart to turn it off, even though it shines directly into my window… just found out she left the light on in the shitter.” You finish, to more silence. You wait a few seconds before you start laughing. It’s not one out of humor, more so an uncontrollable release over the absurdity of the situation. A sense of nervousness covers your face as the manic laughter continues, to then be joined by the others, creating a cascade of cackles erupting out of stress, out of tension. Like a pack of hyenas erupting inside of a dead woman’s house. This proceeds for around a minute, before everyone, as if in unison, finishes. With the stress expelled from you, you go to take a seat with the others. You sit on the chair while the others are scrunched onto the couch. Sitting is kind of uncomfortable with the tail on you, it’s good for a wall or something like that, but normal furniture is just too much padding. Once you sit down, you wait a minute before telling them everything about what Rick said. You mention how he thinks everyone is on the brink of death, how you’ll soon be a victim of a shooting if not for this situation everyone is stuck in. Daren recounts he was in a very dodgy area prior to this, selling some stuff that wasn’t really legitimate. Clint had heard some noise in his house in the middle of the night, Violette was walking home from her job at around 10pm. All seem like they could be a little risky, especially Clint and Daren’s but, they’re so unassuming if something would actually happen or not. The three of you hectically discuss this for maybe an hour, before the fear of it is outweighed by the idea that you’re here for a reason, you’re here for a second chance. Then the conversation shifts into general talk, with some added fun. Daren brought his good stuff and everyone lights up, with some clues that this isn’t Violette’s first rodeo, despite her shaming you for it earlier, even if it was only for how you handled it. The conversations, while passing around a joint, includes some stuff about everyone’s lives, Incase anyone else passes and needs to have their information taken down for wills and stuff.

Half way through this conversation, you remeber you had this same conversation before, and with this revelation, you rush up stairs to find Maria’s will. You search through a few rooms, until you find the big one and see a piece of paper on the night stand. You read through it and it’s short, mostly just a list. Her cat goes to her roommate, a Lucinda Arbuckle, her computer goes to whomever calls it first, her bank account is to be drained and donated to St Jude’s, as that charity saved her cousin at a young age, the box is never mentioned, and there’s not much beyond trinkets and heirlooms for people with her same last name. She leaves no indication of remains disposal and signs the will as Katherine Marchesi/ Maria. After reading it, you fold it back up and sit on her bed for a second. You then begin looking around at her room, trying to process that that’s really her will. You know she’s dead, you just had her funeral-service-thing, you’ve already cried for her, already mourned for her, you were told first, before anyone else, right after she went, and now, here you are, at her house, trying to find some sort of closure, but it’s just… not clicking. You’ve never lost someone close to you, is it supposed to be like this? Maybe… maybe she’s never really supposed to feel… gone.

You get up and walk back towards the stairs, through the hallway full of more art and pictures by fake people of fake people, carrying the only thing made by someone real. But while you walk, you don’t feel alone, like someone is walking with you, like a soft hand is on your shoulder, guiding you, keeping you safe. Like she’s right there. You look over and see nothing, but feel a presence, a warm one, next to you, but not visible. She’s not gone, at least not to you, but why? You ponder this as you walk back down the stairs and interrupt the chattering by plopping back down in the chair, putting the will on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” Violette asks
“After Spearmint died, we had a little hang out, Clint, Daren, Maria, and I, and we got a little depressed, and someone, I think it was Maria, but I’m not too sure, was a little out of it that night- day? At some time, it’s complicated-“ you begin
“Night. My box accurately changes times.” Clint butts in
“Ok, it was a night, and someone suggested we write wills. I forgot till now, despite mine sitting on my nightstand in plane view every morning, and so, here is hers.” You finish, to which the others begin looking at it together.
“Ah, she’s Polish.” Clint says after a little
“What’s her ethnicity have to do with anything?” Violette asks, annoyed
“Well, her ezhni- efnif- god damn it! Her race ain’t matter much, I just like learning about people’s cultures. Most of zhe poles I’ve met were some of zhe nicest people ever, so I’m just saying, she fits in.”

“Judge someone not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their heart.” Daren jokes
“Boy, if you don’t-“ Clint begins, trying to be fake mad, but cracking up.
“I think it’s Italian, you idiots.” Violette adds, in a friendly manner, joining into the nonsensical giggling. You don’t join, just watch, feeling the comfort of something that isn’t there. You continue to just sit, as the three of them chatter into the night, until, they start growing tired and begin to leave. Daren is first, with Violette following shortly. Clint makes sure to make sure you’re good before he leaves, then it’s just you, but you don’t feel alone. Something feels like it’s with you, not like a ghost, not like some malignant spirit that wants you gone, but like an angel watching over you. You don’t feel fear, and so, you walk up the stairs for the last time, flip off the bathroom light, then walk back down, seeing a figure at the top of the stairs, an unfamiliar looking one, but you can feel her presence, its good, it’s familiar. You open the front door, and switch off the last light in the house, the one in the living room, and can still make out that shape in the darkness.
“Sleep well, Maria.” You say with a smile, then close the door. You have the will in your hand, and walk under the night sky, towards your home, looking back once towards the house, expecting to see a figure in the window but seeing nothing.

You enter the Griffin house, and begin cooking some chicken in a wok. You make a honey-garlic sause, and begin sautéing the chicken, then hear the door open. You turn around to see him, the love of your life, staring at you. He got his wish, he’s definitely taller than before, but still shorter than you, has two horns now, despite the right being much heavier, has these beautiful angelic wings, this crisp and clean military uniform, and some sword. He stares at you for a second, and you stare back
“God damn it, you still tower over me.” He says, to which the both of you laugh. He then walks over to you and you hug, with him wrapping you in his wings. You stand there for a little, until you remember you were in the middle of cooking and break it off to go and check the chicken. Once it’s done, you serve it over a plate of rice with some broccoli on the side, despite Maria’s distaste for it. The two of you eat, catching each other up on the day’s endeavors. You mention Maria’s will to which Chris notes he needs to make one, and once you eat, the two of you return up stairs to lie in bed, embracing each other before falling asleep.