( open ) i'll fly you to the moon and back

[initiates]

Date & Time: September 21st - September 30th, 11:59 PM
Location: The Hold, the Moon Base
Characters: Any/all.
Summary: The Transports are evacuating to the Moon Base. Those on the Moon Base try to settle in and figure out their next move. Setting info can be found here.
Warnings: Talk of nuclear warheads and reference to immense loss of life. Please contact the mods should any individual thread get graphically violent or anything else of the sort.
Note: Use date and location tags in your subject headlines! Such as "On the moon, 23rd onward" or "On the spaceship, 25th" or "down at the Hold, 29th."

The Hold is a flurry of activity, grim faced members of the Initiative group directing supplies and people with the subdued air of people facing their own doom, and wondering at how to process the knowledge. None of the Initiative appears unaware of what will happen; their eyes linger on the Transports, expressions pleading, hopeful, doubtful, or immeasurably sad in turn.

Every eight hours, the space ship is sent back up with a load of people and supplies. The pilots are worked until they can't; the AI stolen ages ago by the Initiative greets and corrals people and supplies at both ends, and in the middle step between.

The network continues to broadcast on narrow channels between the Moon Base and Exsilium, up until the time that all connections are lost, with the carrier located en route to Exsilium. The first airship will pass by without dropping anything, but it's too early to celebrate. At a six hour delay from behind, the second airship arrives, and with it, the dark promise of the Black Code's nuclear weaponry.

The six hour window allows for time for those left behind, either by choice or circumstance, to be pulled to the Moon Base with the successful activation of the Transport Pad. New characters will ultimately arrive with the remainder of those not yet on the Moon Base, all in time to witness the explosive contact of the nuclear warhead with the ground of Exsilium live on satellite.

But until then, there's only the hurry, the silence, and the potential for full out rioting should the Transports spread word to the Exiles inevitably left behind to face this fate.

Comments

[ladyspitfire]

[Atticus' tail begins to wag when he sees Galadriel, the big tongue lolling out of his mouth as she comes to stand nearby. The cat doesn't pay much attention to her, as cats are wont to do, but Elissa turns in surprise at the sound of her voice. It's calm and...straight forward, to the point, which is unlike her friend.

But she knows the pain she, too, must be feeling. Artanas once stood beside a young Cousland orphan and took pity on her. The same raw feeling has returned full force in the wake of this tragedy.

Elissa frowns but shakes her head.]

Please, join me. I would not turn away your company.

[Nor would she turn aside at her silent plea for solace.]

[inafadingcrown]

[Atticus gets the ghost of a smile and a pat on the head as Galadriel moves to sit beside Elissa. For a long while, she's silent, trying to find words that aren't utterly inadequate, but eventually she gives up on that. She knows- from Alqualondë, from the Helcaraxë, from Doriath and Eregion- there are no suitable words.]

I was witness the first rising of the moon in my world; if you had told me then that one day I would find myself upon it, I would have laughed. We walk such strange paths now.

[ladyspitfire]

[Elissa's gaze strays often, never capable of truly looking her friend in the eye. There's so much pain behind her eyes that she knows it will be too easy, too noticeable, and so she does nothing. But when Galadriel speaks, she lifts her head to at least look at her, as she deserves no less than her full attention.]

The idea is laughable, isn't it? But I didn't know you had seen the moon when it first rose. That's amazing.

[inafadingcrown]

[Galadriel doesn't try to meet her gaze. Even under ordinary circumstances, she knows that she sees more than people are comfortable with. Now, with emotions so raw, it's better that she keep glancing away.]

It came as a sign of hope for my people. We had crossed the Helcaraxë, a wasteland of grinding ice, to reach Middle Earth. Many perished on the journey; they died from cold, from hunger, or because they simply could no longer endure the hardships. [Under her leadership, no less. But that's not what she's reaching for in this memory.]

Yet when we finally reached the shores we has so longed to see, there it came over the horizon. Bright and beautiful- a reminder of Telperion, the White Tree of Valinor, and a sign that, perhaps, the Valar had not forsaken us entirely.

[ladyspitfire]

[Hope at the end of hardship. And after so much heartache, so much loss, surely Artanas had needed such a reprieve, even if she would never allow it for herself. And here they are again, with loss and with no one to blame but themselves, and the feeling is twisted and gnarled up inside, unrelenting.

Elissa desperately tries to grasp any memory she has to share, to give Galadriel in return for this.]

...Years ago, when the Archdemon attacked Denerim, the capital of Ferelden, the sky went dark with its power. It was as red as blood and many, many people died. Ostagar had been the same; the darkspawn had overrun the ranks and murdered all they could find.

[And dragged away the surviving Wardens and female recruits for things she will not think of.]

But after the dust had settled and the Archdemon had been slain, the sun came out. And for the first time in a year, those who had fought to end the Blight were at peace.

[And she remembers it, too: she remembers waking up on the tower with the sun in her eyes, with her friends beside her, and she was alive. She'll never forget the feeling.]

[inafadingcrown]

[The ghost of a smile flits across Galadriel's lips and she nods.]

"Aure entuluva." [The old battle cry comes to mind. She had not heard it from the lips of Húrin, but the tale was well known among Men and Elves.] "Day will come again."

[Of course, the night may still be long, as the tragedy that befell the man who spoke those words aptly demonstrates.]

[ladyspitfire]

If only it were that simple.

[Especially when it is so dark here, the stars the only illumination. It is more than just a little depressing.]

The dawn always comes, but what it brings is always uncertain. Especially now.

[inafadingcrown]

It brings possibility- and with possibility comes hope. [And that's enough for her to keep going, when she remembers it. It has to be.]

The phrase I spoke was not an idle reassurance, but a battle cry. The man who made it legend did so after he knew the battle he had fought had been lost. He was captured and subjected to great torments- and likely he knew he would be. Yet with each stroke of his axe, he shouted it- "day will come again."

[She sighs] I have lived far too long and seen far too much to believe in any manner of simple victory.

[ladyspitfire]

[It sounds like something she would say.]

Recruits should never lose hope. It is a commander's duty to lead them, to bring them comfort, to protect them. The man you speak of knew this. But he sounds strong, just the same, and inspiring. He sounds like King Cailan.

[She wishes she had that strength.]

Hope is always necessary. One leaf can stem a flood, a twig can stop an avalanche. Even if one falls, there will be others. And we will prevail.

[inafadingcrown]

[And that sounds like something she would say. Suddenly she finds herself wondering where Frodo is and how he fares. Or if he even lives.

Wordlessly, she takes Elissa's hand in her own, intertwining their fingers.]

And who shall bring the commander hope when her own falters? [She smiles but the sorrow remains in her eyes. She's speaking of Elissa, but really... who pushes back the shadows for the Lady of Light when she cannot?]

[ladyspitfire]

[The touch is unexpected but not unwelcome. It's the first attempt at comfort she's allowed since they've come up to the base. She laces their fingers together and closes her eyes briefly.]

I have often wondered this.

[Because her recruits and her friends give her hope but she does not always allow them to help her. It is her own failing, not theirs, that makes her incapable of true contentment.]

But I have always found hope in the people around me, in those who fight without commanders, without rulers. Who fight simply because they need to. I find it in my friends and in people I care for every day.

[inafadingcrown]

[It's times like this when it's easy to see what draws these two together. Galadriel exhales softly, leaning slightly against her friend.]

You speak with wisdom beyond your years.

[ladyspitfire]

[She moves closer to give Galadriel her side and her shoulder, and it allows her to grasp her hand better. It's a comfort she needs, a warmth she does not often allow herself to have. She suspects it is the same for her.]

I was nineteen when it all began. I was foolish and young and sheltered. I'm twenty-two and I feel so much older.

[And she will die young, decayed from the inside out.]

[inafadingcrown]

[A slow exhale. She feels so old now, even older after hearing that. For what was twenty years to her but the blink of an eye?]

War ages us all before our time. The Artanis you met had seen over a thousand years already- a thousand years spent in peace. And yet in the five hundred years or so of war thereafter, she changed and grew more than she had in all her life before. She became Galadriel.

[A pause] It must sound a great deal of time to your ears, but I was accounted young among my people still. Young and brash.