let us bow our heads

[thespaceopera]

[it may be too optimistic to hope that it has something to do with respect, but Atroma has been very quiet. in the wake of the growing stillness on the Iskaulit, neither of the fleet's hosts have broken the peace with their chipper voices.

if the passengers are being watched as closely as they always claim, it is being done in silence.

whether or not the remainder of the living bugs are being kept somewhere for observation, and regardless of the fact that the discussion of what to ultimately do with the ship is still ongoing, it has been generally agreed that something respectful should be done with the dead, and that the remaining spores should be washed away.

so, this will all be done through a combined effort of vacuum and fire, and the time for this purge has been set.

feet on the ground are needed to prepare the foreign ship for purging--securing anything that could be damaged, and safely packing away delicate data-storing instruments and anything belonging to the fleet itself. anyone willing to help could surely find something to do.

and for anyone wishing to bless, reflect, honor, or pray... now is the time to do so. whether aboard the Iskaulit itself before the purge, offering a voice over the network, or simply watching from nearby shuttles and ships, this is the fleet's moment to help send off the crew of the Iskaulit with dignity.]


ooc: this is the final IC mod post for June! the purge itself will be implied for the most part, but anyone with skills in mechanics or fire-controlling may assume they were involved.

this post specifically is for any interactive threads involved in the final days before the Iskaulit is cleaned, and anything funerary, including broadcasts. even if you just want to put up a closed comment describing what private way your character is taking part in this makeshift 'ceremony,' go for it.

an OOC post summarizing and officially wrapping up the rest of June will go up as soon as we're able.

Comments

aboard the iskaulit

[proudlywehailed]

[commander stands quietly on the iskaulit, hydra-issued mask and goggles in place over his mouth, nose, and eyes. he may be a supersoldier, but he's not stupid; these things could potentially kill him, and he's not running that risk. he does, however, know that fewer people who are at risk are going to be on the ship at this time, and it's a good place to step away from the high energy of the crews.

[he's taking the time to reflect upon what's happened here. death isn't something foreign to him; neither the risk, nor the delivery. and yet, somehow, this part never gets any easier. these people didn't deserve their fate. they begged for help, and the fleet...

[well, they just hadn't made it in time.

[the weight isn't lost on commander. he stands with his hands at his sides, head turned down in solemn silence as he pays his respects to the crew whose names and personalities he would never come to learn.]

[redactions]

[ There are any number of places for him to be besides here, but truthfully James Barnes is drawn to Steve Rogers like a volatile moon hurtling towards a steady planet. Even now there's something immovable about him, rooted. Bucky stops where he is, at a distance, and logically he knows his hand should drop to the grip of the gun he has strapped to his waist, but it doesn't. As much as he never flinches from a fight, there's no call for one. ]

Such a waste, isn't it?

[proudlywehailed]

[his shoulders tense further when he hears that voice. he doesn't turn to face him, and for now... he stays silent. he's given him nothing since their first conversation, and still barnes managed to get under his skin. he can't afford to show anything now.

[not when he feels like a collision is inevitable.]

[redactions]

[ Once upon a time, he'd have pushed at Steve the way he knows only he can, but being with Sam — pushing doesn't heal trauma, it breaks people, and he doesn't have any of Natasha's finesse. ]

[ And, once upon a time, he didn't like it when everything was quiet. Fidgeted a lot. Now, he doesn't. It's natural, to be still as a stone. ]

I'll leave if you want me to, but not otherwise.

[proudlywehailed]

[he still refuses to speak. if he says he doesn't want him there, would he argue, or would he leave? commander doesn't know. commander doesn't know him the way he seems to think he knows him.

[besides, eventually, they do need to talk, and... he's not sure he wants him to go.]

[redactions]

[ There's not a no, and so after a moment he finds a place to sit, and he waits. ]

[ino]

[ She's just wearing a face mask, like a doctor or a nurse would use, so it's not quite so effective, but -- hey, look, someone actually listened about the mold.

She ... also doesn't actually know what he's doing. Looking at the floor? But she gestures at his mask and goggles anyways ]

Good idea.

[proudlywehailed]

[he turns his head lightly, toward the sound of her voice. it's indication enough that he's looking at her.]

... I'm not dumb enough to walk around with alien spores in the air and no mask on.

[ino]

You'd be surprised how many people are ...

[ She sighs, a bit dramatically ]

[proudlywehailed]

I'll be sure to usher as many off as I can, unless you have extra masks on you that I can pass out.

[ino]

A few, but not many. Better to just keep 'em out.

[ But she's curious: ]

And nothing like your fancy one. Where'd you get that from?

Re: aboard the iskaulit

[peacockherald]

<sub>[ Vanyel had come at the behest of Vision, offering his aid in the purging. His abilities with fire magic were used to help make a sure cleanse of closed off rooms, remove as move of the disease and fungus as they could. It was a drain on his magic, one he did not wish he had to do, but in times like these - the hard decision was the one that had to be made. You must save those that still had hope. Those without should be given the mercy of swift deaths, made as honorable as possible.

He came beside Commander, dressed in his Whites as a show of respect for the task, for those who had lost hope. ]</sub>

It seems even the far reaches of the stars are not immune to such tragedies.

[proudlywehailed]

... No, I would think not. Where there's a will, there's a way to succeed... and a way to fail. These things had willpower. And now...

[he sighs, and gestures.]

[peacockherald]

_{[ He nodded sadly, hands clasped in front of him. ]}

We do not even know what they called themselves, do we?

[proudlywehailed]

... No. We don't.

[he sounds incredibly saddened by that fact. he would have liked to meet them.]

[peacockherald]

What do you think they would have liked to have been called?

_{[ He had been thinking of a song to compose, a tale of their meeting. It would have to be rather vague given how little they knew, but it would be something. If no words, then at least a melody. ]}

[interspace]

[ Misha isn't stupid, but she isn't one to cope well with difficult things, either. When she came onto the ship, it was more with the idea of committing it to memory than actually doing something. That's all she has: memories that don't mean anything except everything to her and only her.

At the very least, she's got some kind of bandanna tied around her mouth. Equipment for this kind of thing isn't easy to come by, ad it's better safe than sorry. Regardless, that isn't her biggest worry right now. ]

Hey. 'Mander? [ There's a slight pause before she continues, only slightly upbeat. ] Don't suppose you know where I could get anything like that, huh?

[proudlywehailed]

[he would have evacuated her immediately if she'd shown up without that mask. he turns his head toward her, and at this point, she can probably feel the eyebrow raise more than she can see it.]

The mask is a Commander exclusive.

[interspace]

[ She hears the eyebrow raise. That's the sort of thing you develop a sense for as a youngest child, you see. ]

Not even security gets 'em. Ouch. Uh... [ She sighs. ] This sucks.

[proudlywehailed]

... [he reaches out and lays a hand on her shoulder, gentle despite the metal.]

There's nothing left to do about it, now. Nothing but clear it out.

[interspace]

[ The metal doesn't bother her. It's cold, but not soulless, and she wonders briefly what it means to be the opposite like those bugs. Her head tips to the side for her to look up at the Commander with an attempt at wryness. ]

Yet here we are, just standing around. We're so useful, you know?

[geonomy]

[Clay's taken a small break from doing what little he could to assist whoever he could. He rubs at an arm as he walks, itches at the face mask that's getting more and more uncomfortable, trying to keep down that uneasy feeling that practically makes him sick to his stomach.

He spots Commander nearby. Instead of passing him by, Clay bites his lip, shifts his weight a little, and heads over to him to stand at his side. He's not sure what to say - what can he say? But he does glance up at him, wondering how Commander's taking this. Clay can be a support, or... someone to talk to, maybe, if he wants it.]

[proudlywehailed]

[the light shift of his head suggests he notices the glance. he wasn't really expecting anyone to join him here, but clay... clay, he'll be more than happy to keep.]

You've been helping out?

[geonomy]

A little. Trying to. I'm pretty strong, but not... well. [He gives Commander's bicep a quick tap with the back of his fingers; not that strong.] Someday I'll get there.

[He tries to add a bit of brightness to his voice, but... it's not working out so well.]

... They deserve as much as we can give them right now.

[proudlywehailed]

... They do.

[he lifts his hand to anchor it on clay's shoulder.]

And we'll do everything we can for them. People are praying to gods from fifty different planets. Somebody's gotta listen.