(no subject)

[paradisamods]

[By now it's clear that the attackers have fled the scene, scattering in several directions of the Dead Zone. All is safe, and at least the giraffes have stopped running in panicked circles.

The attackers certainly left their mark, leaving behind a trail of destruction that can be traced back to the site of the monolith's crash. Smoke still billows out as the fires die out, but there seems to be no sign of life among the debris.

What is that thing? You now know that whatever it is, it's responsible for bringing those creatures to Terre Haute. While the giraffes return to their "normal" lives and others begin to pack up for travel, there may not be another chance to explore the crash site. If you want to explore it, now's the time.]

[THE TRAIL | THE SHIP | THE BASE]

Comments

[princelyspirit]

[Sword in hand, Utena approaches the settlement, walking more slowly than cautiously than she has in... well, ever. For all of her usual confidence, the last fight shook her to the core, and every nerve is wound tight, her mind fully alert. The good news, there's no more bug-men ready to attack. The bad news...

...the bad news is everything else. Utena stops in her tracks when she sees the bodies on the ground, scattered like broken toys, and she begins to shake. She grips her sword tight and dashes toward the rubble, her breath heavy as she runs, hoping desperately that somebody - anybody - survived the crash.]

[inafadingcrown]

[Galadriel has already found her way to the ruins, looking over the damage. She's a healer; she was hoping- but the dead have no need of her skills. She looks up when she sees the girl running towards the settlement and shakes her head, her tone and expression grave.]

There is no need for haste, I fear.

[princelyspirit]

[She skids to a halt when she hears Galadriel's voice, and turns around to face her. Utena stiffens when she sees that grave expression, and has to force herself to speak]

But there has to be somebody- I mean, they couldn't have all...

[Her voice grows weaker the longer she speaks, and her defeated tone shows that, though she may deny it, she knows that Galadriel is right. Even so, she can't stand to look at that face any longer, and she tears her gaze away, focusing on a far-off piece of rubble]

They can't all be gone...

[inafadingcrown]

[She stands and approaches Utena slowly. It's not as hard for Galadriel; she wishes it were, but it isn't. She's seen so much death that this, while a tragedy, doesn't effect her as it should. At least not now. Later, perhaps, when she's had time to let it settle in, but now-]

I am sorry, child.

[And it's not just a platitude. She's sorry for the whole thing- for what happened, that the youth had to see this.]

[princelyspirit]

[Still not able to look at her. Maybe in a moment, but not quite yet.]

If they're-[Can't bring herself to say the word. She grips the hilt of her sword, in an attempt to steel herself] If they're...gone, then what are we supposed to do now?

[inafadingcrown]

We ought to honor the dead as best we can. Would that we knew their traditions.