here they talked of revolution, here it was they lit the flame

[initiates]

Date: October 1st
Location: The Observatory.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Observatory for the show of the year. Initial briefings are very brief this time around, and that Greeter just won't stop crying.
Warnings: new confused people and old sad people??

Your arrival here has been very unceremonious. One second you were somewhere else, and now, very suddenly, your feet hit the glowing white of the Transporter pad, and you're here. You aren't alone, either. There's a crowd of others around you, each seeming just as bewildered, angry, or confused as you might feel. At the head of the group is a woman in purple robes, with eyes red as if she'd just finished crying. She hurries over a quick overview of your intended purpose here, and gives direct answers when asked for them, but to most things she simply shows you how to access the tablet you've just been given. There, you can find the history of this place and a record of what your new cohorts have experienced — although it won't have Network access for another 8 hours. Someone stands on hand to give you a weapon, and though the armory is now greatly reduced, you should be able to find something to suit you.

You're shepherded down a walkway tunnel and into the Observatory, where you will find screens mounted on three sides of the wide room. The only lighting comes from dull red emergency lights, and the scenes of a dreary, rainy city from various cameras up on the screens; the largest of the screens opens up to a view of Earth from a good distance away -- this one isn't a screen at all, you might realize, but a window. As you watch, all screens in the room fill with light, impossibly bright. It consumes the buildings, the people, everything. There is no sound played, perhaps mercifully, only that white light -- and then nothing.

Through the large window, there's a pinprick of light over one of the landmasses on the blue planet. It grows to a tiny blossom and then dies away, but a cloud begins to mushroom outward in the same spot. It pushes the natural clouds out of the way, claiming that small portion of the world and wrapping it in a uniform gray.

Strings of numbers begin to fill the blanked out screens as the base's AI begins collecting data and calculations, but the show seems to be over. You're free to explore the base, visit and use any of the VR rooms, or discover your new room and roommates, but try not to step out of any airlocks if oxygen is a requirement for your system.

Welcome to the moon base, with front row seats to the grave of Exsilium.

[[ooc; reminder! The Network will be down for 8 hours after the wave of new Transports.]]

Comments

[overclocking]

[Any other day, he might have enjoyed the nostalgic tug that comes from leading her like this. Through the slopes of Michigan's forests, down the river bank... Now he just feels like someone has deposited a large rock on his chest, and he'll never be able to breathe properly again. He dismisses the thought before it can pull him down any more than it already has.

Three months ago it would have been an arduous task, but now he weaves them through the crowd of mourners and spectators with a grace and skill borne of excessive practice. He doesn't think too hard about where he earned that practice, either. Those crowds and rain-soaked streets are gone.

It's when they reach the door to their new apartment—more a room than an apartment, really—that he pulls up short, opening the door for her so that she can slip through first.]

[soul_sister]

[She doesn't go far, only the length of his arm. She pauses, rather than break their hold. Her shoulders don't fall until the door closes, but she doesn't turn to look at him either.]

It had to have been fast, right? Something that big...

[overclocking]

[He has no idea. Maybe if he could actually see what's been left in the wake of the blast, he could guess. But for all he knows, they were consumed in fire. He's seen what it's like, for someone to die under a flame.

He squeezes her hand, reassuring, and closes the door with finality.]

... Yeah.

I'm sure of it.

[soul_sister]

[She looks around the room quickly, and seeing that they are truly alone she simply sits down, right there in the middle of the floor, pulling Chrono with her.]

[overclocking]

[He blinks in surprise at her urging, but follows without hesitation or protest.]

Rosette...?

[Sitting in the middle of their tiny storage-closet-cum-apartment, he's struck by just how little he can offer. No words will make this better, no actions will take the pain away. He has to bite back a stab of terrible frustration.]

[soul_sister]

[He doesn't get very long to stare, helplessly. She pulls him close, the hug almost suffocatingly tight, and her face buried against him. The words are muffled and hard to make out.

She didn't WANT to talk, didn't want to hear things to make it better. The weight of this, the feeling of catastrophic failure, of simple, terrible loss of yet again, another thing, was too much to even think about. All she wanted from him, at that moment, was something much simpler.]

Just a little while okay?

[overclocking]

[Just a little while. He'd give her days, if that's what she wanted. But is this really sufficient? Sitting here and doing- nothing? For her, for anyone?

But...

His arms wrap around her all the same, grip just as tight, fingers cutting divots into the fabric of her shirt. If this is all she wants from him, he'll more than give it to her.]

Yeah. As long as you want.

[soul_sister]

[And she does. She has no idea how much time passes, or cares. All that really mattered at this moment was a stolen, guilty moment of comfort while the rest of the world burned.

She just.. had no idea how to even begin against a problem this big, with no clear goal, no clear path. No obvious way forward...

There's so much that they had just been in the middle of, that they took part in every day, that was simply gone now. Not just structures, possessions and parks... but her coworkers that fussed over her that she looked tired. Others who used to try and find out what a Transport's life was. Little offers for a good 'boyfriend' and just laughed when she threw a fit.

There was the little boy in the orphanage who cried when she made him take a bath and brushed out his hair, because those were girl things! The little girl who was shy and wouldn't talk until she quietly crept up behind Chrono and pulled on his braid, practically hanging from it, giggling. About the twins who used to recite what they'd say in unison for better effect. About the older girl at the orphanage who was trying to learn how to cook but only had one pan to do everything with... about the headmaster who-

... They were gone. And could they even stop something like that? A flash of light and everything gone? What would stop them from doing it again? Or sending one to the moon.



She hated it. This helplessness. This grief choking up her throat and burning her eyes. She wanted to scream until the world fixed itself. She wanted to yell that we weren't enough for this until it took pity. She wanted to go home...

And she had no idea if that even was possible anymore.


If she'd never see...]

Just..

[Instead of all of that, she let it all in out in tears, crying on Chrono's shoulder.]

What can we DO?

[overclocking]

[ The dead have no demands. Pity is the ego of living beings. He finds himself thinking of those words again, after so many years. They grate upon raw nerves as if they were uttered moments ago, rather than decades.

Maybe he really hasn't learned anything, because he objects to them now as much as he did then.

The natives of that island are dead, because of them. The weight of that finally settles atop him like a vice, and he wonders how he's going to live and breathe from now on. Weightlessness is a thing of the past, if it ever existed at all, and he has no objections; even if all they can realistically do right now is cower in safety—someone should shed tears for all of those lost lives. It's the very least they can do. ]

Remember. [ Remember names and faces, or one or the other, when the pieces won't fit together ] Grieve. [ Like everyone is doing, from within their safe little shell on the moon ]

And then we fight.

[soul_sister]

[It doesn't really even begin all at once, after Chrono stops speaking. There's a few long moments of simple silence, her nod of agreement preceding a punishing grip, her hold on him almost painful.

The crying really wasn't anything pretty or graceful. The kind of wrung out sobs that hurt the throat and choke the next breath coming in. But she felt like if she didn't get it out, the sheer pressure of it would be too much.]

I wont forgive them! I WONT!

[overclocking]

[ Chrono doesn't seem to mind the tightness of her grip, and actually shifts into it more, his own fingers white-knuckled at her back. He thinks of a campfire and a lake and a warm summer breeze. ]

"If you're angry, get angry. And when you want to cry, go ahead and cry your heart out..."

We have all night.

[soul_sister]

[While it isn't all night, it is a good stretch until the sobs dry out into sniffles, the grip loosens to simply her leaning against him, arms wrapped around him.

Somewhere her own thoughts cause a small bubble of laughter.]

It's kind of not fair you know.... I don't know how you can always be so strong.

[overclocking]

[ He sort of wants to laugh, himself, but he's afraid it would get tangled up until all that comes out is tears of his own. ]

It's really nothing like that, you know. Crying doesn't make someone weak... it's wiping away the tears getting back up that proves they're strong.

[ And she's still the strongest person he knows. ]

I've just seen more things than you have.

[soul_sister]

[Not for the first time, she wonders... This completely empty book where Chrono's life should be... But now? Now isn't the time to ask.

She lifts one hand to rub the tears off her face.]

Haah.. I guess that comes from being really old...

[It makes her wonder, what's not on the history books... how badly people treat each other...]

[overclocking]

Hey now...

[ Softly, and lacking in much of the humor that would normally come with the pseudo-rebuke. He just can't manage it today. He reaches into his pocket as he speaks, and pulls out a handkerchief for her, being the walking inventory that he is. ]

That's rude to say, you know.