The Funeral

[cityship]

Everyone's had a chance to recover somewhat, to stop reeling or at least try. Now that people are at least somewhat closer to being on balance again, it's time to say goodbye.

There is a message throughout the ship, one tinged with sadness:

||Attention, crew. Those who wish to attend the funeral services for the crew-mates that died during the conflict should report to Obs Deck immediately. Services will begin in approximately a thirty Earth standard minutes.||

The floor of the Obs Deck shifts to allow lifts to come up through it. Tubes connect from the space there to the hatches that suddenly appear between the windows, giving something of an impression that the closed caskets are missiles about to be shot through a missile tube. The funeral pods themselves have clear round domes in them--some of the people that died more peacefully are visible, looking as if they're sleeping. Most, however, were killed in a way that would make them appear less than presentable, so in their funeral pods only the vaguest outlines of humanoid forms can be made out. Some have entirely closed pods or were vaporized and thus, only have a funeral pod there to represent them.

The ship lurches lightly as it comes to a stop to a random universe, but where it's stopped at is beautiful to behold. They are in the middle of a nebula, surrounded by red and blue plasma. Several new stars burn brightly, here, and they are stopped near one, just short of being sucked in by its gravitational pull. It's a red dwarf, small and faint and new, but its light is welcoming. Here, where the very fires of creation burn, and stars are born is the last place the dead will be sent.

[ooc: Instruction thingies]

Comments

Speaker for the Dead

[cityship]

Someone must speak for the dead, but it's so hard to eulogize someone you don't know.

Re: Speaker for the Dead

[captain-jtk.livejournal.com]

Kirk steps up to the makeshift podium and places his hands on either side of it, surveying the assembled crew. he's done this before, for members of his own crew. However, it's never been on this scale before. He sighs softly and shakes his head. He hopes he'll do.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're gathered here today to bid farewell to a group of beings that we, unfortunately, never knew. A group of sentients who would've joined us, eventually, on our journey through uncharted waters and into the unknown. They did not come from our worlds and they would not have been familiar to us. However, I would like to think that they would have been welcome, that they would have become as much a part of our crew as we all have."

He paused and then continued, "And while we never will know them, we can at least do them the honor of remembering them. Of knowing that they existed. Of keeping at least that much alive, in all of us. They and their worlds may be gone, but we will carry on. We will move forward. And although we may not mourn them as long nor as deeply as one we knew far longer then they, their loss is still felt by us and by the multiverse."

"My words will never be able to do them justice nor will I be able to explain who they they were. All I can offer to them is a farewell and to let them know that we, at least, will honor them and we will not forget. That we will do our best to ensure that something such as this does not happen again; that we pledge to keep those not yet awakened safe until they do. Farewell... and godspeed."

Kirk steps back from the podium and snaps off a salute to the fallen, before folding his hands in front of him, grim-faced.

The Launches

[cityship]

Reading the names of all five thousand plus lost souls would take hours, so as each group launches, their names will display on screen.

The pods burn when they get close to the sun, briefly flickering brightly, like a group of fireflies blinking once and then going out for good.

Group by group, they're sent off into the warmth of a lone sun.

Re: The Launches

[mammalrobot.livejournal.com]

Robo had been to plenty of funerals. It came with being 86 and knowing a lot of people combined with not aging. He would never get used to them.

Thousands of people had died in the pod cavern, and while Robo was not so stupid as to think that he could have saved all of them, he would never know if he could have saved more of them by doing something else. With that in mind, the least he could do was give them a moment of silence as they went on their last journey. So Robo spent the entirety of the time the funeral went on standing nearby a window and watching the caskets sail off into space, neither moving nor speaking.

[[OOC: Thought I had accidentally stuck this in the wrong place. AND icon fail, goddammit.]]

Re: The Launches

[ladyofthesands.livejournal.com]

Thousands of people she would never know, worlds she would never learn about, faces that might have been friends, blades that might have been crossed. Some of those caskets contained zombie faces, dead before they knew anything at all about Stacy, about their Universes. Arha stood, leaning into the wall, somber as she watched launch after launch.

Death came and left its mark upon each and every one of them in different ways. For Arha, it reminded her of her own death, and water rings listing on a chain in the desert wind. She shifted as voices came and went and the crowd hummed. This was a time for memory and reflection, though she had not really met many and their water could not be reclaimed.

She stayed, propped up against the wall, solemnly watching the caskets float and burn.

Re: The Launches

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robert stood quietly against one wall and wept. He wept for all of those who he had been forced to kill in order to save the ship, all of those who would never know the truth of their abduction, what had happened to them. Those who had only had a few brief moments of pain and fear before they were taken.

Most of all he wept for his lost world.

Re: The Launches

[not-prncss-tldr.livejournal.com]

Lafiel was not a stranger to this kind of death. She'd been a participant in great sweeping battles between fleets of deadly ships, had crew die, fought UMK marines on Sufugnoff, bailed out of a doomed vessel.

Those had always been willing participants in a war though. This...this was senseless. These people had died without knowing they were fighting, ripped from their realities cruelly and then slaughtered like fish in the net.

She watched the pods go, read the names and was guiltily glad that none of her people were among them.

The method of sendoff pleased her though. This was the Abh method of funeral, to send the deceased into space. Facing the window, she snapped a salute (index and middle fingers to the forehead) and sang a Baronh funeral dirge under her breath.

[morphitudinous]

This massacre is still a new concept for Billy. Intellectually, of course, he had always known that wars involved the slaughter of hordes upon hordes of innocents. But it hadn't been real, not even when his Zord had been thrown into buildings in Angel Grove's office district. Somehow, they had always evacuated the buildings. Somehow, they had always saved the trapped parents.

Not this time. They'd been completely powerless to stop HAL from infecting these masses of innocent people and ending their journeys aboard Stacy before they began.

For now, his face is frozen solid as he watches the launches in silence. Part of him is angry at the injustice that no loved ones are here to mourn their losses, but the dominant part is grateful that his dear friends are still sleeping. The whole affair is tragic, but the last of his grief remains bottled inside. Because the hardest goodbye is yet to come.

He won't cry. Not yet.

Re: The Launches

[redeyes_andblue]

Sheik stands solemnly, watching the pods flare and disappear. He's seen mass funerals before, but this is on a far larger scale than he's ever seen, for people he will never know and who will never know that their entire universes are gone.

They're probably the lucky ones.

Under his breath, he's murmuring Sheikah funeral rites; in his head, Zelda is doing the same in Hylian.

Re: The Launches

[feelnothinatall.livejournal.com]

All those people, dead by the time she'd woken up here. She didn't recognise any of the names on the screen, but Ahava still stood alone and silent by a window, her expression strange and unreadable as she watched the caskets.

Re: The Launches

[governmentninja]

Leon stood at attention. His posture was rigid, his expression was unmoving as the makeshift caskets moved past to their final resting place.

Re: The Launches

[static-shock68.livejournal.com]

Static did something that didn't come naturally to him for the funeral and the launches; He stood straight, still, and didn't talk. He just watched with his arms crossed. This was too important to slack off or joke about.

Re: The Launches

[prettycoolguy]

This isn't the first time the Chief's seen such a funeral. He's not optimistic enough to think this will be the last.

There's no worse feeling for him than watching something he couldn't have done anything about. He contains the feeling of utter powerlessness that hits him and stands silent and tall as he always has.

He has to be the strong one, for the sake of all the others.

Ghosts?!

[anoldtrickster.livejournal.com]

There are a few strange presences, past the edges of the crowd, at the very edges of the Obs Deck.

They don't present themselves, but those with extraordinary senses might be able to recognize these incorporeal traces of life/death.

Re: The Launches

[bsaa-ace.livejournal.com]

Chris stood at attention as much as possible. He wasn't supposed to be up and about, but, he wasn't going to sit by during this. He had only been allowed to come after having a long conversation with his sister and agreeing to lean on her rather than put weight on his wounded leg. And so, one arm draped around his sister's shoulders, his other hand saluting as he watched the launches, that he stood there in attendance.

Re: The Launches

[its-keeper.livejournal.com]

Will isn't fighting to keep herself from crying. She's already lost that battle.

So many people. And for each one of them, so many others who will wake up and wonder where is their neighbor, their mother, their friend, their love.

They were people, and her only memory of them is of gnashing teeth and grasping hands, greedy, inhuman hunger.

They deserve so much more. They deserve to be known. And they never will. Not by anyone here.

Re: The Launches

[gogopowersuit.livejournal.com]

The hunter stood, watching. The strong, silent figure peaked above the crowds. Her helmet masked any emotions she might have, but any glance under this veil revealed the same stoic expression typical to her. Her thoughts were contained safely inside her head. Samus had experienced the death of many in her life, and she doubted this was the last. People die, she was fully aware of this. Sacrifices were necessary and those left must keep moving forward to keep it from being in vain. It was a concept with which she was all too familiar.

She could not control what happened, she knew this, and perhaps that was what bothered her the most.

Re: The Launches

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie is a piper, as was his father, and his father's father before him. It has been his calling for as long as he can remember. And while there are times the piping is joyous, too often, it is to remember the dead. He has asked for a replacement for his own bagpipes, so that he might send those who perished off to their final resting place - as he would have for his clan in Scotland.

He stands and listens to the eulogy solemnly. Once he has gotten the signal to do so, he steps forward and inflates the pipes, then begins to play.

There are two songs - one, a melody that Jamie has heard and played before. The other is a tune that is new to him, but not necessarily to the other crew. He hopes he can do it justice. It's the least he can offer to those who have lost their lives - and those who have been left behind.

Re: The Launches

[flunkingspanish.livejournal.com]

Paco had barely made it to the funeral -- he'd had to insist at the top of his lungs, and even then the medical staff and Stacy had refused to let him travel under his own power and made him promise that he'd signal them if he felt even slightly light-headed or woozy. Tentacles had carried him up from the Medbay and settled him on one of the weird, fleshy chairs, but he was here.

He owed the dead that much. They deserved mourning, even if no one currently awake had known them. They were still people, sons and daughters and parents and lovers and friends...

He prayed quietly, blinking back tears so he could read the names Stacy displayed as she sent the dead to their final resting place.

[crazychanger.livejournal.com]

Blitzwing wasn't very sure why he had come here.
Funerals weren't, for lack of a better phrase, a Decepticon thing. If someone offlined, there was no time to mourn; and often the death of a superior meant everyone got to step up in ranks. It was the way the hierarchy worked.

But he supposed he had to come anyway; it was more respectful (and the ship had changed him; once, he hadn't cared) to those who had died already.

So he just watches, expression unreadable, as the pods flare once and then are swallowed by the massive bulk of the flaming sun.

Re: The Launches

[in-venting.livejournal.com]

It is Sherry's first funeral. Even though the destruction of Raccoon City had been briefly memorialized, she hadn't been there to remember it. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd wanted to. So, it's Sherry's first funeral, so as she stood stiffly beside her mother, and stared out at space as the groups funeral pods were ejected, she wondered what she was supposed to be doing.

It was sad, but she didn't want to cry for strangers. It seemed trite.

Re: The Launches

[thethirdhalfa.livejournal.com]

So many people. Dani couldn't even imagine that many people dying. Even know...it was hard to do. It was...it was too horrible to do so.

She looked at the list, trying to commit every name to her memory. She agreed with Kirk.

They deserved to be remembered.

Re: The Launches

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

Jono stands near one of the windows, staring off into space after the pods. He does read the screens, skimming rather than taking in every name. Maybe there had been a better way of going about things, he didn't know. What he did know was that beating himself up over the deaths would do little to no good. The best way to remember these people was to fight these Ohm and maybe see if the worlds could be saved.

Which doesn't stop him twitching when he sees any half familiar names. Someone with the first name of Angela. Another with the last name of Lee. Little things that catch his eye while skimming the names and make him pause to make sure that they really aren't people he knows. Not, you know, that he distrusted Stacy or anything. Except when he totally did.

B5's Eulogy

[cityship]

It's strange to eulogize someone that was supposedly you, but Brainiac 5 finds the words come much more easily than he thought they would.

1/2

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

Brainiac 5's body is stiff and inexpressive as he floats up to the podium and sets down again. He has no omnicom or paper in his hand--memorizing something as short as a eulogy is beyond child's play and into something monkeys can do, for him. His expression is oddly--or perhaps not oddly, knowing him--calm. Blank. Perhaps a little zen, rather than empty.

When he speaks, his voice is strong and clear.

"I'm not a public speaker in any sense of the word. Symposiums on astrophysics and lectures on quantum mechanics are well within my expertise, but I am one that favors rationality and accuracy to emotionality. This makes me, perhaps, the most inappropriate person on the crew to speak about B5, given his nature. It was, after all, his nature that set him apart as a person, rather than the extraordinarily brave actions that led to his death."

He holds up his hand, showing his flight ring.

"Where I come from, where B5 came from, these rings represent an ideal. The Legion of Superheroes, in both our universes, was a group of individuals called in to prevent wars, end wars, and sometimes to do nothing less than save all life in our galaxy and civilization itself. In Sensor and I's universe, we were meant to be an example to the rest of the United Planets--a group of individuals united in cause, overcoming the prejudices between our respective species to show that such things could be accomplished--and B5's Legion was not horribly different. This is our duty, our calling, our professions, if you will, and one of the expectations we had placed on us, that we place on ourselves, is that we will protect life, at all costs--even if the cost is ourselves."

He adds, deadpan, "This means that the Legion tends to attract those who are mildly suicidally insane."

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he goes on, "B5's death was courageous, his choice and sacrifice saved us all, but his death was the death of a Legionnaire. Rather than his death, albeit one that was admittedly brave, what I found more remarkable about him was how he chose to live his life. It is an unfortunate quirk of some individual members of the human race to hold such ideals as selflessness and the capacity for loyalty, courage, friendship, and love to be the very essence of humanity, while ignoring the fact that these traits are not exclusively "human," that these traits are instead the very essences of what is simply noble sentience. To be selfless is not to "be human," it is simply humane. B5 seemed to think he needed to be organic and human to be a good person, without realizing he had already reached that plateau of altruism and self-awareness. He took an interest in the people around him, he cared about people and attempted to understand and bond with them. He embraced emotion and wanted to better himself, to become more self-actualized and self-realized to better serve in the interests of other people, and to better protect life, sentient and non-sentient. Despite being my counterpart, someone that was supposedly a version of myself from another universe, he was an entirely different person--and as such, was a much better sentient than I."

Here he looks sad, finally, tinges of emotion showing through.

"As I said to another crew member several days ago: There are some individuals that exist in the universe whose influence makes one desire to be a better person and fulfill one's fullest potential. I had the rather unique experience of having one of those individuals be a version of myself. But rather than seeing B5 as a mirror, held up to showcase all of my flaws, I believe he was one that...that showed me what I could be. I don't know if I am capable of becoming such a person, but for the chance he gave me by allowing me to live long enough to become that sentient being--the chance he gave all of us to do the same--my gratitude is immense and my--" His voice cracks here, but only once, only briefly. "--my grief is indescribable. "

End Reflections

[cityship]

Some might need to cry, some might need a hug, some might be ruminating their own mortality, others might be reassuring themselves that they're invincible. Yet others still might just want to book it to get away from the emotionally charged atmosphere. Either way, it's difficult to watch such a thing and not react to it somehow.

[ooc: Subthread away!]

[el-escarabajo.livejournal.com]

Jaime Reyes, his face now healed, had watched from the doorway. He hadn't entered Obs Deck, he hadn't said a word--he had just watched, as each funeral pod sparked and disappeared, as B5's pod eventually did the same.

He hadn't wanted to be there, but he couldn't disrespect the people that he'd gotten killed by not at least showing up.

The screen flashes all the names and he reads every name of the people he didn't save. It's pretty much torture. When one of the pods is fired out of the ship, he breaks down silently, face buried in his hand. It's smaller than the others.

Child-sized.

By the end, he can't take it anymore, and before anyone has a chance to talk to him, the armor shifts over his body, there's the flutter of blue wings, and he's gone.