The Bunker of Nariba Relia | OPEN PLOT MINGLE POST

[theroadwarrior]

Who: Everyone!!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The bunker in the surrounding desert.
When: Sometime recently, see this post for full information. Below is the excerpt of information listed there. Feel free to make a top comment and thread out the sad truth and whatnot.

[Records buried in the library, the research facility, and cues from the power plant will eventually reveal the bunker in the surrounding desert. The passageway leads several yards underground, and it doesn’t appear to have been used in a long time. Those brave enough to venture inside will find that it is not much more than a tomb. Eerily enough, the emergency lights are still on, casting a soft red glow over sheets and the once-bodies beneath them.

It has been long enough that paper journals, books, and personal belongings (like bags and such) have deteriorated to the point of being extremely fragile. Handled with care, however, they are eager to tell a story.

“The engineers should have been more careful. I’m not sure I’ll be able to recoup my losses from this… At least I have enough money to buy a ride off this planet!”

“No one could have known this would happen. Hopefully it stabilizes so we can go home soon. In the meantime, I’ve been teaching my daughter how to count. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t know what to tell her.”

“It’s not getting better. So many people have died that we’re running out of room in the morgue. We had to move all of the food to another room so that the smell doesn’t leach out, but we all know what’s back there.”

“The replicator was supposed to repair us, too.”

“I don’t know if we can go back yet, but it doesn’t matter. Even if the city was back to the way it was, there’s no cure for us. The dead are dead, and we lay down next to them as we wait for our turn.”

There is nothing that can be done for these people except to give them the eternal rest they deserve. Ultimately, the fate of Nariba Relia is a sad one and not altogether preventable.]

Comments

[dothelokimotion]

[ Asgard had no records. Most of the people they had . . . saved were peasantry. Common folk. They had their stories, their own rituals. None of which Loki was very familiar with. He never spent much time with them and in a way, he does regret that. A part of him wonders if he's the only one left who might know the fullest extent of their history. The courts had vanished. The warriors gone. The scholars? What scholars?

Heimdall might know. Valkyrie has been gone too long. Loki, who is not even Asgardian, might be housing the last parts of Asgard's knowledge. Its magic, its science. The deeds passed on.

He hates it. Loki hates it so much he might burst. But instead he sits in a corner, thumbing through the journals silently. ]

Sentiment.

[privateeyed]

[bunkers weren't anything new to Ben. He'd been in plenty of them, as a child and as a soldier, and ranging from crumbling relics to ones outfitted with the current technology of his time. He'd even stepped into one or two that resembled the one here on Nariba Relia, only the bodies weren't as old.

But even with that experience, the bunker unsettles him, deep down in his bones. Before he steps foot inside of it he feels twitchy, his usual sarcastic comments replaced with solemn silence. It takes ten minutes of pacing for him to psych himself up to even head down the stairs, and another five of just standing there scowling at nothing to keep going once he reaches the bottom.

He does manage to stay down there long enough to read a few of the journals and scraps of paper, and while he can't sit still for very long, being able to focus on that rather than everything else in his head helps. He's careful not to touch anything, in order to keep what's left preserved for other people to check out. Every so often, he'll offer his commentary on the matter:]

Fuckin' hell.

[really, what else is there to say?]

[watermarks]

[ When she'd heard that the fate of the inhabitants had been discovered, Katara felt bound to see it through. She'd contacted Ben and asked if he wanted to go too, since they'd spent time trying to figure it out, it made sense to her to see it through with him.

She hesitated a long moment before going down into the bunker. The smell alone... She paused to wrap the scarf she'd picked up for a headcovering in the desert around her mouth a few times before following Ben into the eerily lit space. (Although, granted, once inside the process of decomposition has long-since stopped, and the smell is mostly the result of it being shut up for so long, they should be fine after a few minutes.)

The first thing she sees that really registers are the sheets. They have vague lumps beneath them, but they're not immediately recognizable. The desert is hot, after all. She gives Ben a glance and then heads toward the sheets.]

[watermarks]

[ Katara is not going to stand down in the bunker long. She has a scarf wrapped around her nose and mouth, and she hasn't checked many of the sheeted figures, but she has checked two, an adult-sized lump... and a child's skeleton. She's seen things like this before, but the hopelessness of this is somehow worse.

She stumbles over to the wall, and places her hands on it. Her head is down and she focuses on just breathing. She notices a shape in corner of her eye, sitting with the records, but she doesn't pay much attention, more focused on keeping the contents of her stomach in her stomach. ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ He glances at her. ]

You shouldn't be here if you are going to be ill.

[privateeyed]

[as hyper-aware as he is of everything, Katara heading off towards the sheets still takes a moment to register. He half-expects her to answer his own commentary, but when she doesn't his head jerks up to follow where she went and—oh shit.

He's at her side before she can get too close, gently grabbing her arm to stop her. For all that he's having a minor freak-out, his voice is calm and his hand is steady (even though it is the fake arm and not the real one)]

Wouldn't get too close if I were you. It won't be pretty.

[watermarks]

I know.

[And she does. She's seen things like this before, but not in... life. In simulations. In life, the bodies had been all too fresh.

Her voice is thick. She looks back up at him.]

But not knowing and wondering will be worse.

[Wondering if they were okay, if any survived, if there was anything she could do to help -- all the evidence in this room suggested that even thinking that was nonsense, but... she couldn't help it.]

[watermarks]

I know. [ Her voice might be thin, but it's firm. She doesn't glance over at him, too focused on retaining control. ] I'll be alright in a minute.

[privateeyed]

[part of him wants to insist, but instead he lets go and holds his hand up with a shrug and a wordless "I warned you"] If that's what you want.

[he doesn't need to know or wonder. And he had his fill of bodies years ago]

[dothelokimotion]

I doubt that.

[ Not because of Katara's "weakness", but because no one would be okay seeing something like this. Loki isn't but he's well-practiced at hiding it. And . . . in a way, he lacks the right to get upset.

( he set fire to Asgard ) ]

[watermarks]

[She appreciates him letting her do this without a fuss. She can't help it, she really can't --

She moves forward and very carefully lifts up the corner of the sheet.

It's... exactly what you would expect. Mostly decomposed. Certainly very beyond help. She feels her stomach lurch and is careful to lightly set the sheet back down instead of letting it fall, not wanting to harm the body further.

On the other hand, she stands up abruptly and takes two steps away. Her fists clench hard at her sides as she forces herself breathe.]

...how many... how many do you think there are?

[She can't bring herself to look right now.]

[privateeyed]

[at the very least, there's no "I told you so" - at least, not this time. Even if he has issues keeping his mouth shut, he knows when it's far from appropriate. THis is one of those times]

How many? [he's glad that his eyesight is shit without the prosthetic, because he can't quite make out how many there are just in that room. It's probably foe the best] . . . can't tell. Too many.

[watermarks]

[Since his voice carried more understanding than provoking, it went to the core of her.

Alright was the wrong term.]

Well. I won't be sick.

[She probably wouldn't sleep well for the next few nights, but at least she wouldn't be sick. She shuts her eyes and focuses on her breathing.]

[dreamvour]

[tragedy and death were commonplace to someone like Baku. She'd seen the world at its worse - her own and the human world - and while she knew how to grieve and mourn, she was long past the point where it drew more than a brief frown.

Still, she's respectful of the dead and what remains of them. Anything she touches is done carefully, and when she wanders over to the bodies, she makes sure to cover them back up properly. It's a bit out of her element - the dead don't dream, nor do they leave dreams behind, but - she wants to understand what happened here]

[watermarks]

[Too many. Of course. That was the only right answer.

She shuts her eyes and takes another moment before glancing up at him. Her eyes widen for a second, focusing on the immediate concern.] You shouldn't be breathing all this in. Do you have something to tie around your mouth and nose?

[dothelokimotion]

[ Hmm. His gaze slides off her as he rises, putting the journal away. The bodies here should be buried. Or . . . something. Again, Loki finds his thoughts drifting over to Asgard. He wonders if Thor gave any thought to it. ]

A small mercy, but a valid one.

[privateeyed]

—huh? [he was expecting the conversation to continue in one direction, so the sudden change catches him by surprise. He blinks at her stupidly for a moment] What?

[oh, wait. He rolls his eyes and with a sigh, pulls the collar of his shirt up over his nose] I doubt there's anything bad in the air.

[watermarks]

You're surrounded by decomposing bodies. [A hand on a hip as she takes brief refuge in indignation and what it is that she knows, something she can do]

Do you really want to be breathing bits of them in?

[privateeyed]

No, but I'm not exactly getting near the bodies. [is the response he gives instead of "I've breathed in worse". Because he's trying to be mature. Desperately trying]

[watermarks]

[At least it doesn't smelled like burned flesh. At least when they died, they weren't alone.

...Katara can't decide, though, if a life cut short through horrible accident is somehow better or worse than a life cut short by violence. So many people...

Her cheeks are wet; she hadn't even been aware that she was crying. She makes a small motion with her fingers, and the water flicks from her face to the ground. She's not ashamed of crying, or of feeling ill, but she knows very well that she shouldn't waste water in a desert.

All the same... all the same...

She whispers, more to herself than to the man who she sees beginning to stand, though he's included in it by sheer proximity:] Something should be done for them.

[She's not sure if dragging them out to be buried would be more or less disrespectful... many of these bodies would fall apart along the way. Burn them inside the bunker? Seal this place back up like a tomb? She's not sure what, but... something.]

[dothelokimotion]

We lack the right. Or the privilege.

[ Loki is a lot of things. Proud, self-centered. Unlikely to lend kindness to another, no matter what the circumstances. But his face is smooth as stone. ]

This is the place they chose. Let it rest.

[watermarks]

This is an enclosed area-- [She starts, because she can't help it, but then remembers the sheets... he's probably not in that much danger, not if they don't stay down here for long.

Besides, he already agreed. She stops and shakes her head at herself.] Thank you for covering up anyway. What did you find?

[watermarks]

[The place they chose... it sounded good. But they hadn't come here to die. They'd come here hoping to live.

Still.] I don't know if it's about right or privilege as much as it's about... respect and honor. Acknowledging where life was... [she shuts her eyes more tightly, remembering the tiny body under the blanket] ...remembering.

[The practical issues of burying the bodies keep coming up. She doesn't even know the funeral rites of these people. Opening her eyes she finally drops her hands and begins to straighten.] But it might be best just to... seal this place up before we go and an erect a memorial. So they're remembered, and so no one who comes here has to disturb them again.

[privateeyed]

[he almost wants to point out that, if it were dangerous down here, he'd already be one of the first to drop, but that's in bad taste.

Besides, her question gives him an excuse to lead her away from the bodies and back over to the journals. He motions her over and kneels down, gesturing with his flesh hand to what he was reading before] Journal. Or what's left of one.

[watermarks]

[She lets him lead her, still happy for the excuse to not think about how many bodies...

Too many.]

What kind of journal? [Glancing at him a little uncertainly.] You mean from one of the people here?