Funeral detail had sucked ass, to put it politely. Burying friends always was. But they had never buried more than one or two at a time. The Scorps had killed seven in their attack. Drake wasn't the religious sort, but he had prayed for them earlier, and for the rest of his group after.

He stood near the garden, where crosses marked the fallen. It was the only bright spot in the area, where someone had planted annual flowers that came back year after year. He wouldn't admit it, but he hoped whoever had planted the garden hadn't suffered from the Virus. He took a breath, and began reciting.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."

Behind Drake, a few footsteps came slowly from the shade, and a quieter voice said, "...I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

Abel stood next to Drake over the crosses with a dull, dispirited look in his eye. The younger boy put his hands in his jeans' pockets as he traced the blooms with his eyes and remembered those whom the Forgotten had lost in the last scuffle. It hurt Abel, that after so many adults had died, people could still bring themselves to senseless violence and resort to petty war. The attack by the Scorps was unprovoked, and though they had their reasons, Abel couldn't justify their actions. The sun was low on the horizon, and most of the people who attended the funeral had already gone. The only people who remained were people who were especially close to the deceased, people who hung onto those memories that just as well could have slipped through other people's fingers. Abel didn't fit into that category well, but the dead were close enough to Abel for him to hang around.

Abel could never withhold from crying in the face of terrible tragedy. Emotional videos about 9/11, songs sung about humanitarian aid, incredibly spiritual hymns that perhaps stretched beyond religion, all of them pulled at his heartstrings easily. Still, no matter how heavy it got, Abel never gave up. For the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. He clung to whatever hope he could salvage. He tried to stay strong, and Abel did it for other people even if he suffered deeply on the inside. His natural empathy drove him to stay by the graves and stand by Drake. Had he not cared for either of those things, Abel might have never bothered. But he stayed, and he lamented. There was nothing else to do or say about it.

Shiba watched from a distance he watched the funeral and once it was over and drake started to recite something Angelo went over and dropped a rose on one of the mounds that is the fallen hopefully they will see their parents where their going Shiba said simply. Without another word he went back to go his position above the shop to keep an eye out for any scavengers that are desperate enough to take them on again. It wasn't that Angelo didn't grieve for the fallen it was just that he needed to make sure nobody else joined the departed. In this world their was no time to grieve or feel the pain of loss from someone because if we dwelled on it to much then we would be next.

Once Shiba set up his position with his sniper rifle he took a bottle of scotch and raised it high salu he said simply which meant cheers as he drank some, it was his own way of celebrating that they lived at all in this damned world of theirs...

Kin sat slumped against the wall in shock. He couldn't bear to look at the bodies of the ones he lost. He just couldn't believe they were dead. Nathan, June, Turner, Mel, they trusted him with their lives. He was supposed to protect them. He should have protected them! He DID protect them! Then why are they dead?

Kin's head sunk into his arms as he curled up in a ball. He closed his eyes, silent tears breaking through and spattering onto his jeans. In his head, a chorus whispered the same words again and again like a curse: "You failed them. You failed them. You. Failed. Them."

Though the red-faced scientist averted his eyes, as he was bound to, the hatred within was so vibrant that it was almost tangible. Alice smiled, the expression genuine for the first time in weeks. The stuttering fool before her was exactly the type of man who valued his pride above all else, and who could not accept being the subordinate of a child. But, here, with guards all around him, he had little choice; he would submit to her authority or his own corpse would be the one used to fulfill his request.

"You must see the wisdom of my work, Oracle," said the fool, barely able to contain his rage. Alice steeped her hands in front of her, her eyes flickering back and forth with the emeralds and sapphires dangling from her bracelets. "If we are to have any hope to overcome this virus, we must run experiments, and to experiment, I need bodies."

"Let's be honest with each other, Mr. Leary," said Alice, directing her gaze to meet the scientist's. "You aren't really so worried about the well being of your brethren. How old are you now? Twenty-one?" The girl's smile broadened as she absently twirled a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "You're running out of time. Soon, you very well may be the perfect live test subject!"

Dainty giggling reverberated against the walls of the old courthouse as the girl covered her mouth with one hand.

The scientist flushed, his face going redder than a beat, so red it was almost comical. "I - I'm not the only one, my lady. Is it not the purpose of Omnibus Scientia to overcome this plague?"

"Of course it is, silly," said Alice. Mr. Leary must think her an idiot to suppose such a shallow argument would sway her! "But we also have the sacred duty to preserve those who of our own who have passed. Did you forget that? So, no, of course I will not let you pillage our tombs. But there are other options, dummy!"

The scientist's fists balled, but when he spoke, it was fear that was clearest in his voice.

"Oracle...?"

"If there is one thing of which we have an abundance, it is the dead, of course," said Alice. "I do see the value in your work, of course, so how about this? I'll assign a few of my servants to go dig up the bodies of some of the unenlightened who died recently. They should work as well as anyone else, shouldn't they?"

The supplicant averted his gaze. "I... I suppose so, Oracle."

"Excellent! Now go away."

Before he could utter another word, two of Alice's elite guards grabbed the scientist by his arms and dragged him out of the room. What a pathetic creature.

"Next!" Alice called impatiently. Listening to pleas was so dull.

Drake nodded at Abel. "Thanks, Abe," he said. Being one of the Forgotten's leaders, it was still hard on him to see his friends and comrades hurt, let alone killed. "They'll be missed. Wherever they are now, it's better than this place."

He took a breath. "I wish there was a way to get back at those bastards. Nobody messes with us and gets away with it. Banning them from our area ain't good enough, let alone setting up a shoot-on-sight policy."

Charon adjusted his coat for the ninth time. ''Omnibus Scientia''? More like Omnidork Scum. The jaded young medic made a gesture half of disgust, half of feigned pain. And he thought the scientists and tecnophytes of the old world were conceited. They had nothing on these guys. But it wasn't the day to let his actual feelings towards the faction arise. No, Charon was committed to all of Kano. All of mankind in general.

Perhaps he should've gone to the Forgotten instead. They had been hit pretty bad in a raid recently and probably needed his medical services. But well, these guys and the crazy Oracle child held some precious medical books as they were sitting atop the best libraries.

He entered what he supposed to be an "audience hall" with keen gaze and firm steps, evaluating the room and the little girl who seemed the center of it all. Surrounded by guards. Some of them with only peachy fuzz.

"Well then... well met, I'm Charon. Half of Kano has heard of me I think. I suppose you're the one in charge of the faction, miss." He paused.

"I heard you have some good quality medical books lying around. If I could get some reads, that would be extremely helpful." The medic droned. "I can pay you with medical services. Those are rare nowadays." He replied the same sales pitch he did for all factions.

And then he remembered something, and patted his pockets. He had heard this rumour concerning this particular leader. About a secret weapon quite effective against her. He let out an "Aha!" cheer when he produced a (surprisingly) unexpired small plastic bag of chocolate chip cookies.
Gotta thank those Coyote scavengers for paying my medical care with the stuff they found in the wrecked gas station.

"Yeah, you can keep the bag of cookies too." He added nonchalantly.

Kim stood by the graves. Shabby places of rest, but the best that could be arranged in current circumstances. Abel and Drake were murmuring two halves of a psalm, like paired bookends that bracketed a eulogy that evaded words and construction.

Turning her gaze to the crosses that marked the fallen, Kim wondered what it must feel like beneath layers of packed dirt. She had been present at the raid and attack. Her body could have easily joined the seven that already lay. She considered the prospect of her death - none too strange. How she had thrown her shoulder into the fight and retaliated with military precision and near-suicidal vigour, marching like a soldier into Death's open arms, only to have them rescinded from her.

Juxtaposed besides Drake and Abel, and their wrenching hearts, Kim felt alien, and so she turned away from the graves to leave. The loss of seven lives was a heavy blow to morale and manpower - she would not deny. Yet she could not muster the sorrow to grieve for them. They had fought and died on the battlefield, defending all the Forgotten had left in the world. One day, Kim would traverse the same path.

She came across Kin, huddled in the foetal position in quiet, palpable despair. Kin topped a hundred and eighty centimetres, but standing before the boy, Kim towered over him. She gazed down at him, with a peculiar expression wiped carefully blank. People talked often, and she knew what they thought of her - this curiously strange, grim robot. She was, however, far from blind to some of the nuances of human emotion, sighted enough to say the truth she thought he deserved to hear, in a flattened voice that broached no argument. "You did the best anyone could have to keep them alive. I hope you know that."

The boy was tough, hardened and lined, aged beyond his years. He was fearsome to stand against, a dedicated guard who laid down his life for his new community, and who rained hell on any who dared trespass the Forgotten. Of good men, Kim did not know many. But Kin - he was not a bad man. He had the makings of a heart Kim had imagined impossible to find anymore in this new world, encased in a tempered body and mind.

Backing herself up the wall, Kim slid down the texture of brick to sprawl her legs next to Kin. She thought of the foot-soldiers in World War Two - trapped in the runnels and trenches they had dug for themselves; taking their meals and rest together; standing shoulder-to-shoulder crossing fire with a faceless enemy; entertaining promises and fantasies of leaving the war zone behind, so that they may bear with the bloodshed of the present - and clapped Kin on the shoulder, in a show of solidarity.

@Jangel13

---

"Psalm 119:105, Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." Rōnin lightly brushed the ruined brick wall of the abandoned building, dust and dirt falling to the ground. He travelled alone mostly, paying no attention to the outside world of the wasteland except for the occasional visit to The Gamers. He never stayed in one place, moving from building to building, collecting as much water and medicine as he could. You could survive two weeks without food but only three days without water. That was what killed the young ones in the wasteland.

'O simple ones, learn prudence; O fools, learn sense.' Alphonsé thought grimly, stepping over the corpse of a rotting child. He gripped his trusted AR-15 tightly in his hands, eyes scanning the road in front of him for any animals. Damn animals carried the Virus, killing most of the adult population. He had kept track of the time, the man realised that as a 22 year old, he was one of the oldest people in the wasteland.

Alphonsé spent most of his time contemplating his previous life, the horrors and abuse that came with fighting in a damn street gang. '2 years in prison and I still didn't learn.' He paused to stare at his callous hands, the famous four fingered hand stared at him back. Shaking his head, he looked up to see a pawn shop up ahead. It was the base of the so called "Forgotten." They were conducting a funeral for a few of their people, killed by the Scorps. In his opinion, the gangs of Kano were full of wannabes, people who have never climbed up the ranks of a street gang before. Bunch of murderers and rapists who grouped together for mutual survival.

Rōnin walked forward slowly, making sure to his hat to cover his face. He was pretty famous out here, known for his bloody gladiator matches and as one of the longest living loners. He loosened his grip on the rifle and used the strap to sling it on his back, right hand holding the hilt of the gūnto sword. He walked to the front of their pawn shop confidently, holding a cross in his left hand. He knelt down on his knees, laying the cross down in front of him.

And there, he prayed. He prayed for the dead and dying. He prayed for the wounded. He was known for these kinds of acts, praying publicly for the dead. He was known to be the "Wandering Priest", although he wasn't qualified to be one and his sins weighed him down too much. He looked up at Shiba and made the sign of the cross before turning around and walking away. The cross he left was one of dozens in his possession

Marion had been placed at the counter of the pawn shop during the funeral procession. She made note to visit the grave site later in the day, but for now she had a duty to watch over things from raiders and looters alike. It wasn't an unlikely thought for The Forgotten to be kicked while they were down, so despite their grieving they had to remain strong.

Her dark brown eyes were sunken, tired. A blank expression plastered on the usual cheerful girl's lips. Sounds of sobbing, and gasps of breath from several children could be heard scattered around the compound. It was enough to make even the hardest soul feel compassion. Mari hadn't lost anyone close to her, but everyone in The Forgotten was still like family, blood by choice.

Suddenly from the store front a man came into view, Marion's stubby fingers gripped the side of the counter top watching as the renowned 'Wandering Priest' came into view and placed a cross on the ground in front of the building. Mari's eyes gazed up to the ceiling, knowing Shiba had been on watch for the same shift as her and hoping he was holding up alright. She knew he was tough, and probably drowning his sorrows in liquor rather than the alternative.

The man walked away as quickly as he came.

Mari's grip around the counter edge loosened and slipped onto a more relaxed position on her thighs.

It would be a very long day.

@MissCapnCrunch

Shiba took a swig of his scotch before he saw someone get close to the perimeter. Shiba immediately went into defensive mode and put him in his sights. One wrong move and the guy would have a bullet between the eyes. However on closer inspection Shiba saw that he was the wandering priest that he has heard about. He made sure to watch him as he left the cross nearby and simply walked away, he waited till the wanderer was out of his rifle range before giving a loud whistle trying to get Mari's attention hey he dropped the cross, mind going over to pick it up. Don't worry I got you covered from up here Shiba said since he couldn't go down to get it himself since he was on watch and the others were still mourning. She was the closest to it and he thought it was a nice gesture and shouldn't be left out with the other corpses out their.

Fox, personally, was not overly fond of having to hunt specific people down. Especially for someone else. But for someone like him it was easy work, aside from the blood. He liked traveling and spending time on his own and got quite the thrill from carrying out an execution sentence in someones place, plus the reward for returning with their head or some defining mark of theirs was definitely worth it. The reward was often good, depending on who it was for. Even if it didn't reap anything physically useful, it did leave you with some good standing and reliability in their eyes- all of which could lead to better things down the line. Once again, though, depending on who it was.

Today was not one Fox particularly cared to really think about. It had been nearly a week and he had been hunting after some strange doctor fellow, but he hadn't had even the slightest bit of luck finding them. Instead, he had ran into several Scorp members while they rested. Feeling particularly irritated from his lack of fortune while scavenging and 'hunting', they made for the perfect targets to release some of his irritation. And to top it all off, he managed to leave most of their supplies blood free, which was always a good bonus if you were planning on pawning off their junk or trading it for better goods elsewhere. Which was exactly what he was planning to do.

Groaning very quietly, Fox steadily made his way towards the pawnshop, four different bags in tow. Three rather large dufflebags were slung over his chest and rested against his back while another one was resting against his right hip. All of the bags seemed rather full and probably very heavy- but the one that rested upon his right hip was the most concerning. Well, maybe not concerning, but it was not pretty too look at. The bottom of the green bag was practically stained a permanent black-brown color, it actually dripped dark red liquid onto his pantleg. Not that he was giving it much notice while he stepped over some trash and the alike- not giving much attention to his surroundings.

Aside from the blood that ran down his right leg from the bag of questionable contents, he had bits of it splattered elsewhere too. Some of it stained his pale blond hair, a bit of it on his face, but most of all there was still evidence of it on his arms. It looked like he had tried to wash it away at some point prior, but not well enough. There were still smears all over the leather that covered over his arms.

Growing closer to the pawnshop, Fox quickly lifted up both hands in 'surrender' and 'I come in peace'. At least the best he could, considering the extra weight he was carrying around with him at the moment and the fact that his entire right side was just a bit too stiff. He spotted a familiar figure leaving, but he was not going to bother trying to converse with him right now.

Hands still raised as he drew closer, Fox gave one small wave of one of his raised hands, a somewhat friendly smile forming onto his face- like he hadn't just been killing some people. "Open?" He called towards the shop, coming to a stop beside a pile of rubble- just in case. He wasn't always welcome in places while carrying body parts for bounty and trade, but ya' know, he wasn't willing to leave their heads behind. If anything, he knew his old friends The Coyote's would love to do some more business with him. But they were farther away than the pawnshop, he didn't want to have to travel that far just for some supplies he would waste in the time it took for him to get back to the Arena. But hey! Today he didn't just have body parts! He had other stuff too, a whole three dufflebags worth.

Alice held her hand in front of her mouth in a token attempt to stifle a yawn as another older looking man approached her. She leaned on the table, chin resting on one palm, showing no emotion save through the reflexive twitching of one eyebrow at her latest supplicant's irreverent tone. According to the visitor, he was some famous doctor. Whatever. It didn't really matter whether he was telling the truth or not; he wasn't asking for very much compared to some of her recent visitors.

The Oracle's apathy melted away when the newcomer revealed a bag.

Cookies, just like Mama used to make! How long had it been since she'd had any of those? A couple of months, at the least! Of course, these cookies were the generic, store bought kind, a far cry from the heavenly ones she had loved so much. But, still, they were cookies!

Alice coughed, realizing that she was now sitting up straight, her eyes a bit wide. A few of her guards shot her nervous, sidelong glances, as if shocked by her behavior. Whatever! They wouldn't understand - all of the cookies were for her, after all!

"You, take that and run the tests on it," said Alice to one of her servants. Then, she turned her gaze to the man who called himself Charon. "As long as those are free from impurities, I suppose I can grant your request," said Alice, careful to keep the excitement out of her voice. "You will not be permitted to take the books out of our libraries, of course, and I warn you, you will be watched, so be a good boy. Now, if you have no further inquiries, you are dismissed." She shot a furtive glance toward the servant carrying her treats. He had better hurry up - if he didn't, her mouth was bound to start watering, and that would look very unOraclelike.

A sharp whistle could be heard from the ceiling as Marion took full attention. The steady voice of Shiba called down, "Hey, he dropped the cross, mind going over to pick it up. Don't worry I got you covered from up here." he stated, and Marion called back in return, "I got it!" Her voice was smooth and low like a woman that knew exactly what she was doing at all times.

Walking around the counter quickly, she went out the doors and squatted down into the dirt where the cross was laid. Looking at it curiously, she dare not touch it yet without a good examination. It appeared to be relatively harmless, a basic cross. "Wonder why he'd leave a lower case T on our front lawn!" Marion called up, teasining inappropriately to Shiba before picking it up and examining it closer. Her jokes were in bad taste, and she often wondered if Shiba would just shoot her in the back of the head one of these days. She turned the cross over and over in her hands. She would give this to Drake when he returned, knowing that he out of anyone would appreciate the gift.

Very suddenly her almond eyes glanced up to be met with a not very tall boy (Mari was around 5ft 2), with his hands raised up. Marion's mouth gaped, as she pulled the cross close to her chest. "Open?" the boy called, and Marion nodded her head, the mess of brown dreads that adorned her head shaking with it. Taking a better look at the boy and his belongings, Mari couldn't help but notice the bag seeping with blood. "We don't take human parts over here." Marion stated as nonchalant as one could say that statement. She made a little smirk, "Not so good to eat once the maggots get em'" she played, looking up at Shiba and placing three of fingers in the air. This signaled that if she didn't hear anything from them within three minutes, something had gone wrong.

"Follow me." Marion cooed, jamming the cross into the side of her black boots, fitting tight against the cuff of her jeans as she made her way around the counter. Leaning down she picked up a very abused table cloth and laid it across the counter. This was to have an easy clean up if the trader's items were on the messier side. Which from the looks of the bags, they were going to be. "Alright, let's see what you got, and you may even get something back in return." she patted the counter, urging the boy to empty out his belongings.

@MissCapnCrunch
Shiba watched her as she went out to grab the cross then make a bad joke about it being a lower case t, honestly those jokes were just bad but Shiba couldn't blame her for trying to be upbeat. However once Shiba saw someone else come into view he took aim at them but saw that they came in peace to trade. The Mari made a signal saying to give her 3 minutes with the customer and he nodded. He went to his watch and started the timer, it was an old digital watch but it served its purpose and Shiba started the clock once they were both inside to start trading. Shiba then switched to his Remington shotgun ready to jump down and point the shotgun at their customer. Shiba will be damned if he lets anyone else get killed today so Shiba was ready to stick this right between the eyes and make the customers head explode.....if he didn't trade anyway....

Charon raised an eyebrow as the girl before him mentioned free of impurities. It was a foil-covered plastic bag. There wasn't getting anything getting inside without tampering the with the bag, and he was sure those cookies were so chock-full of preservatives and grease, the only risk they offered was their taste going stale and bland. Well, maybe being paranoid was to be expected. He nevertheless parted with the bag easily.

"Here you go." He nonchalantly said as the Oracle's supposed guards swiped the bag from his hand in a rough fashion to present it before the girl.
Charon tucked his hands in his pockets, his head tilted somewhat. "Watched, right. Well It's okay. I might need the occassional person around to hold on the pesky books and bring the ladder, I guess." He scratched his head. The nonchalant attitude and casual dismissal of the kid made him wonder. Well, some of the rumours were true. But even so, beneath that oracular set up and intellectual approach, there's a 10 year old girl still. Charon smirked. Maybe he could attempt it.

"You seem to be bored out of your mind. As if you had expired your options long time ago. Well, I -am- always recruiting. How about you help me? You could pick a thing or two, you're smart. Very smart. Probably over 150 if we were to run an IQ test on you. And I so happen to be one of the last people who experienced the Old World education."

He smiled thinly. "I'll even let you piggy ride when you're tired."

@Otaku95

"Any time." Abel replied, giving Drake half a smile. He stared at the ground, the dirt squished underneath his shoes, and ran a hand through his well-kempt, dark blond hair unsurely. "Well... yeah..."

Abel looked dismally at the dim, blue-gray sky, and his eyes begged it for answers as if it could tell him all he needed to know. "Everything went to hell, three years ago. Since then, nothin's ever been quite the same. Violence shouldn't be the answer, and yet here we all are. No government. No law. No enforcement. Just a bunch o' kids. If we had a government, we could order society. If we had a law, we could discourage crime. If we had enforcement, we could guarantee the other two," Abel rambled. Truth be told, without any central authority and only chaos between several struggling groups, things could only get worse. They needed something to bring unity and law to the land if they were ever to escape the cesspool.

"Those Scorps are dangerous. They were rich and powerful before everything went bad, but we're not big enough to take them alone yet." He shrugged and let out a deep sigh, and he looked around himself and spotted other members of the group, still hanging outside. "Let's go inside." Abel put an arm around his friend. "Is there anything I can do for you? To make you feel better or help you with any business?"

Alice watched in horror, her cheeks growing hot, as that foolish, condescending man dared to patronize her in front of her entire court. Her eyes darted back and forth; everyone was now looking at her, their expressions ranging from excited expectation to fear. She was not know among her followers for her mercy; the last time someone had dared challenge her, she had made them the live subjects of a dissection. She hadn't watched personally, of course. She hated the sight of blood; it made her squeamish. But, this time, she had to make an exception. She couldn't afford to look weak in front of all these people. He had offered her a piggy back ride!

Two of her guards moved to block off the doors, assault weapons in hand, before Alice even spoke. Everyone knew what was coming - all that remained was the execution.

"KIll him!" said Alice, her voice coming out shrill. Immediately, all of the guards' weapons were trained on the doctor, and in a moment, they would fire. Alice bit her lip imperceptibly. She couldn't look away. This moron had earned his demise, and it was her duty to observe it.

Welp. I shouldn't have pushed my luck this far. Aw geeze. Charon displayed a disgusted, defeatist grimace for a second, before replacing it with a stern gaze. Before the Virus, a single gun would've him scared witless and visiblely intimidated, but now... not even the prospective of being torn to ribbons was able to make his heart skip a little. Sometime, somewhere along the way, his mind had cracked under the pressure, and he had subsequently lost a great deal of the emotion known as fear. He wasn't entirely sane.

But then again, someone sane would've given up on finding a cure long time ago. Someone sane would've sought to start over, instead of stubborningly clinging to an age that would never come back, and not making sworn enemies out of barely-living things like the Virus.

"Wait!" He said in a sharp inflection. "Before you do, though, I do have to warn you." Charon interjected his soon to be demise. "I am a medic. And I also happen to research the Virus in hopes for a cure." Of course, up to this point anyone could've said it, in a last ditch attempt to save its life. What set it apart was that Charon then added another sentence. "I so happen to keep samples in my backpack. So if a stray bullet did hit there... I can't guarantee the safety of this environment. Specially for people who haven't hit puberty yet. Like your leader. Me too but I don't really care about it, seeing as you're going to kill me regardless." Well, he wasn't sure if any of those samples were infectious, but he was telling part of the truth.

Without pause, he then added. "Then there's the fact that, well, you'll kill a much needed medic in this town... so next time flu, tetanus, pneumonia and all sorts of nasties come and knock your folks down... you might come to regret it. And that's it, i'm done."

Charon then spread his arms, a smile across his lips, the nasty glint of madness on his eyes. "SO HURRY UP! KILL ME! I DONT REALLY CARE! IN FACT, BEING OFFED BY CHILD WORSHIPPING CULTISTS IS SO FUNNY I CAN'T HELP BUT LAUGH!" Charon's eyes went wide as a muted chortle erupted into a spine-chilling laughter filled with madness.

Erren stood off to the side of the funeral procession and watched from a short distance. He had connections to the people who were dead, of course, but he never really stayed with the Forgotten long enough to make any real bonds. The only two he actually had some kind of relationship with were Hans and Kim, but even then there wasn't much. He lifted his right hand and looked at the card he held; 17. Then his arm dropped to his side, and he stared into the distance and past the graves.
"Fear thee not, oh beautiful, for he is a dead man." he sung under his breath, flipping the card in between his fingers in a melodic fashion to the music. The only people there were Hans, Abe and him, which left an eerie quiet atmosphere over the graveyard only broken by the disjointed psalm or hymn or whatever the two were reciting. Erren then pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and slid the 17 back in, careful to aim for the exact spot it had left. Then he dropped it into his coat and pulled out a small revolver from his pocket, before spinning the barrel. He always kept one bullet in for times when he needed occupying.
"No bullet," he said quietly, spinning it again, "No bullet," and again, "No bullet," until, after 7 attempts, he said "Loaded," and emptied the barrel, the bullet sliding from the chamber where he predicted. Dropping that in his pocket, he turned and walked off with the revolver in hand, towards the Forgotten base.