It's a nice enough service. Granted, there wasn't much of a body left for a wake, just a puddle of bloody goo, but the flowers he gathers from hydroponics, the covered vase he found for the remains of her - it's nice. Nice and quiet.

It's so unlike the last time he was at his sister's funeral. To tell the truth, he doesn't really remember it. He was ten, too preoccupied with the stories in his head to pay attention to the coffin being lowered into the ground. Maybe it was a coping mechanism. Maybe he was just a frightfully callous child. He doesn't like to think back on it enough to figure it out. But that ceremony was filled with people, and today's it's just him.

Punchy sits on a little patch of grass over on Religion Row and lights a candle next to the hole he's digging. There's no priest to bless the ground or offer absolution, but he did manage to find black clothes for the occasion. As he places the vase in the ground and starts to cover it with Earth, he recites, "whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty..."

Erhart kneels before the great statue of the god-emperor of mankind, lost in prayer, and contemplation. His armor is bare, stripped of all the paint and embellishment that is his right to wear as the Emperor's Champion, instead it is mostly gunmetal gray, with a few patches of gold showing through in places. His Crusader and Purity seals are nothing more than tattered scraps of parchment and wax, mostly burned away. His right pauldron is shattered, his left deeply groved, there are multiple puncture and burn marks on his plastron, and he bleeds. Oh yes, inside, there are many bruises, and he can feel at least one broken rib grate as he holds his humble pose before the image of the Master of Mankind, going through a Litany of Remembrance as he does so.

He stops, after finishing his devotions, and anoints himself with an ampule of holy water from a great marble bowl set in the Reclusiam, off to the right of the statue of Him on Earth. He turns, and stands, looking out over the city, watching the flashes of gunfire and the sounds of battle. He can do nothing, for now, too tired. While one of the catchphrases of the Eternal Crusade is no mercy, no respite, he can't bring himself to go out to fight again quite yet. Not like this. He can barely lift his sword. He needs.... rest.
And so he waits. For someone? Perhaps. Or perhaps just for a few moments of rest before returning to the war.

( The trek towards a mind at peace... )

"I come here to honor those who have fallen, and for those who will still fall during this war. Allies and enemies alike. I bear the burden of thousands of lives and if fate deems it, there will be countless more until I fall... It's the way of my trade, of my people, the ways of a world where war is never ending and it seems as if those ways will follow me wherever I go. As such, I pledge my blade once more to keep those I care for safe, those that are unable to fend for themselves, those that are caught in between the warring sides even as I do my duty for my own.

I see my foes as equals. Souls intertwined in this on-going war, same coin, different sides. They deserve as much honor as those who fight beside me for it is them who my blade is meant to cut down just as it is theirs that is meant to end my journey.

I see my allies as my wards, meant to be protected and defended against those that mean to harm them. They deserve my protection no matter how different we my be for it is them who are at my side and my back, protecting me just as well.

I see my friends and loved ones as my strength. They deserve my everything for without them I'd be lost, alone, and caught in the void that is inside. They are the ones who I fear for the most, they are my life line, they are my driving force and I'll do anything for them.

It is for all of them that I will continue to carry on the burden bestowed upon me when I pledged my life to this until I fall and cannot get up no more.

Today I reinforce my pledge, my promise, my dedication, my word given when I first became a warrior. In honor of the fallen the past, and the future."

With that, she gripped the cold, burning Shadowmourne once more and strapped the massive axe to her back once more before standing up and staring at the large stained glass image of the bearer of the Ashbringer. One of the many heroes she admired.

The Southern Air Temple was pretty beautiful, architecturally speaking. With twisting spires and trees threaded into the framework of the temple itself, it looked half as if it'd grown out of the ground or been carved into it rather than that it had been built there.

The best part about it, though, was the sense of peace the place had. It was very easily the kind of thing that could draw people in and help them find calm, even if they weren't the religious type.

Hiccup was overjoyed by the presence of his special visitor and that was why he'd left her to go to his forge. Quickly gathering up all his plans and drawings, he made his way out.

He wanted to show her everything he'd thought of, every idea he had, wanted to share absolutely everything he could about himself in the day he had.

This was the first he'd get to know his mother, and the first she'd really get to know him, and he wasn't going to waste a minute of it.

After Lirath, Miku had tried her best to keep from being too far underfoot. So, she'd retreated to the Meiji Shrine. Sitting on the steps, and turning her hairpin in her hands, an abandoned broom at her side, Miku tried to think of ways to be more useful. She even had prayed a bit, but it seemed as if the Emperor and Empress were concerned with more pressing things than how to make a single, pious young woman more worthy to return the help she was given.

She wasn't much of a fighter - as her poor attempts at practicing had quickly shown. She had always been someone's support. But even Steve was more helpful than she was, and he only spent time in Engineering when he wanted. Which is where Miku was fairly sure he was at now, though she hadn't actually bothered to check.

Miku sighed and flipped her long, dark hair from her shoulders with a hand. It was already getting too long and heavy for her tastes, and Stacy was warm and humid. Miku stood with a sigh and picked up her abandoned broom, tucking her hairpin away in her skirt pocket.

There was plenty to clean at the Shrine, after all.


((As a special note, if you get Miku, you will likely also get a Steve! That's two, two, two CRs for the price of one! (Shipping and Handling not included)))

It had taken him so long to find it, but then he hadn't really been looking. There were no mountains in the city, no places that rose high above the rest, other than the Garibah Tree. And without mountains, he hadn't expected any Air temples.

But here it was, the place where he'd grown up under Monk Gyatso's gentle guidance.

The Southern Air Temple.

It was set into its own hill, like it'd been at atop the mountain, only no rivers flowed here, no trees grew. What trees that were there were dead, but woven into the structure of the place, as they had been when they still lived. There was no smell of mountain blossoms in hanging gently in the air. It was as dead as when he'd first set foot there with Katara and Sokka, when he'd found Monk Gyatso's body.

But it was home. He felt it in the stones under his feet, in the way his voice echoed in the halls when he called out "Hellooo" ("Hello, hello ello ello lo," went his echo) exactly the same as it once did. This was his home. The exact temple, ripped from the world of the Four Nations. The only difference was that the hall of the Avatars was carved out of it, but he knew that was in the Statuary. Why they would tear the place apart he didn't know, but Aang knew by now not to question the actions of a people that didn't make sense, that he'd long since learned not to fully trust.

He would have to tell Nima. Not that she'd have the fondness of the place as him, but it was still one of the temples, and she might still want to walk the halls of this place.

It was terrible and painful and wonderful and beautiful at the same time. It left all kinds of feelings roiling in Aang's gut as he walked through from section to section of the temples, from meditation room to classroom, with Appa and Momo.

Somehow, even though the place wasn't as high up, even though the weather in the city was usually calm, the breeze was perfect here. It didn't smell right, but it felt like it should have felt.

Comforted by it, Aang sat and meditated in the place where he grew up for the first time in a long time. Momo chirped at him and Aang politely shushed him.

"Meditation time is quiet time, Momo."

For the first time in a while, he found true calm, so much so that he was able to get in touch with a part of himself he'd been struggling to get in touch with.

If anyone happened to explore the many splendored halls of his youth, the mountainside spires, the winding passageways of the temple, they would find a giant furry flying bison laying comfortably on a balcony, with a flying lemur sitting on his head, picking through his fur. Next to them both, there was a bald monk seated with his eyes closed, his tattoos glowing a gentle blue glow, robes buffeted by winds that shouldn't have even existed.

To say Sonic wasn't thrilled at the moment is the least of his worries. He felt a little more than helpless when he attempted to rescue Hay Lin and Sasami from KAIN, especially as his attacks did little to stop him.

But, it was over, right? The thing was gone and wasn't going to come back, at least. Then, why did it still annoy him? To get rid of that feeling, Sonic opted to go for a run. A long run around the City. As he did, he found himself approaching Religion Row. Really didn't have any business there, but he needed something to do.

However, racing past the W.I.T.C.H. Bus allowed him to spot something he hadn't notice before: A large shrine of sorts, flowing with water. At the top of the shrine's steps was a large green diamond-cut emerald, just taller than he was.

"No way..." Sonic uttered, stopping and turning his attention to the shrine. "Aw, man, this is here!" With a grin, Sonic ran up the shrine's steps, looking at the massive emerald. "Man, where were you when I needed you?! This is too awesome--" He stopped himself as he realized something: if this was here, then that would mean the other Chaos Emeralds were here. Even worse? If this was here, and someone else found it?

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no...!" Sonic uttered, shaking his head. "There's no way I'm letting anyone mess with this! Knuckles would have my head! But, yet..." Sonic groaned as he flopped down beside it, deep in thought. "...what the heck am I gonna do?"

The Shrine of the Aquila never seemed to get any less creepy, no matter how often she visited for her lessons. For the moment, however, it was the best place for her to continue to repair the defenses that BZ had crashed through when they'd battled.

Miku sat in seiza position, her hands folded in her lap before the altar, facing the pews. Beside her, in a rather mundane looking dressbox, was her kimono. It hadn't left her side since she got it, since she wasn't sure where the safest place to store it would be. The last thing she wanted was a musty furisode.

Her breathing was very slow and regular, almost as if she were sleeping. Maybe she had fallen asleep. After all, she'd been sitting there for well over an hour now.

At the Winding Circle Temple, Daja was making her way to the forges. She hadn't brought Sandry here yet, as Daja knew that seeing Winding Circle in it's current state - empty, disheveled, and uncared for - would be hard on Sandry. It had been hard enough for her, and it was still hard every time she visited the temple grounds.

But Daja was in need of a particularly sized chisel, and since she didn't have the right one in her own forge she had decided to see if she could find one at Winding Circle's forges. True, she could forge her own chisel - but scavenging one would save time and materials, and Daja didn't want the tools in Winding Circle's forges to go to waste.

As Daja entered the forges however, she was about to discover that she wasn't the only one scavenging for tools.

Daja walked slowly by the temples in Religion Row, weaving a path through the many places of worship. The temples here were alien and unfamiliar, and she could only wonder what strange and unknowable gods they were dedicated to.

But though unknown, they were gods and sacred spaces nonetheless. Perhaps one of these temples honoured the gods of the Daligig, creators of Stacy. Perhaps others honoured the gods of her crewmates, and her new friends. Whatever their origin, they deserved Daja's respect - and so she walked silently and with solemnity.

Her quiet respect was broken however, by the sound of her own gasp - because up ahead was a temple that was familiar to her. Painfully familiar - she would know those walls anywhere.

"Winding Circle?" she whispered. Could it really be? The temple that she had been brought to after her family's death, the place where she met her foster-siblings, the place where she had learned about magic and smithing...could it really be here?

Daja ran, her heart pounding as she raced towards her former home.

It was a long, thoughtful walk to the Shrine. The odd, high-pitched whine of something Wrong had faded just as soon as she'd entered Religion Row, and Miku spent the rest of her time rubbing her ears to remove the tickle. It was hard to explain to other people the exact feelings that came with her ability.

But Cargn... understood. To a point, she supposed (considering, of course, that he didn't have eyes and hers were still very much attached). But even that point was much more than someone who had never experienced that plummet of heart and stomach, the loss of color from the world, or the shrill, lingering whine of getting closer and closer to something that shouldn't have been there in the first place. Miku sighed as she entered the Shrine of the Aquila and started looking for her sensei, and his little, strange helper.

"Viginti-san? Cargn-sensei? I'm here," Miku called, and her voice echoed oddly in the Shrine. No, she was never going to get used to how creepy that was.

Miku had gone into the city, to take the time to appreciate the Meiji Shrine that lay nestled in a far corner of Religion Row. It had, miraculously, managed to remain intact. The torii gates stood tall and even, and Miku bowed once before she entered through them.

The trees that once had been planted evenly were thickly overgrown without anyone watching their care, and darkened the path ominously. Miku hurried down the walk, pointedly ignoring the feeling of being watched from all sides. Once she reached the temple complex proper, the feeling of being watched intensified, roiling around inside her until it felt like it was rippling along her skin.

Still, she'd had a broom, several dust rags, and a look of severe determination on her face. As a Japanese citizen, she felt a sudden jolt of duty to clean the huge temple complex up.

So, that morning, she'd told Steve where he could find her if he wanted her and set off. After purifying herself (and to a lesser extent the broom), Miku started towards the first shrine building, sweeping a path through the dead leaves.

Despite the fact that it never really got any visitors, Cargn has been hard at work restoring the Shrine of the Aquila to a presentable state.

The massive golden eagle on the facade of the building had been polished to a brilliant shine. Purity seals had been placed at numerous points along both the inside and outside of the building.  The statues within had been dusted clean, and the massive statue of the Emperor of Mankind, standing behind the large, marble altar, wrought from pure gold, was impeccably clean.

He still didn't expect anyone to convert all of a sudden--after all, the Imperial Creed was a bit...harsh...by most standards--but he did want to keep the house of his own worship clean. It was the least he could do.

The chronometer he kept chained at his waist began to beep, reminding him it was almost time for his appointment with his young apprentice. As he waited for her to arrive, he set about preparing a pot of tea, this time choosing something she was more familiar with. After all, one of the joys of tea for Cargn was discovering new flavors.

[ooc: This thread's meant for Miku, but it's open to anyone interested in chatting with Cargn.]

Title: Gemini, Part IV: Empty Shore
Location: Stacy; Angkor Wat; The Sensoriums
Notes: Locations can and may change throughout, so a series is listed above. Other entries or sections will be referenced, including Interlude IV.






( I. Letters )


( II. Tears )

Title: Gemini, Part III: Shaken Hallelujah
Location: Stacy; Angkor Wat





"I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."


Renne wasn't often one to pray since the extinction of his species. He wasn't one to pray unless something got desperate or it was near a time he considered holy, to properly venerate the many gods he held in esteem. He whispered prayers to any and every god, deity, angel, demon or hero that cared to listen.

He'd wandered throughout the massive ship after running into Jamie and his strange but relaxing almost-hotspring. The man had suggested a possible solution even if only a temporary one.

The more he thought about it, the further off Renne wandered.

He stopped when he found his way to Angkor.


The deserted complex almost beckons him with its eerie, too-complete solitude.

Renne almost smiles upon crawling into the abandoned city. He hasn't a clue as to what this is, what it was or where it belonged in its origin but a large part of him comes quite near not caring. Renne sings to himself an eerie, haunting tune as he progresses slowly, deeper into the twisting complex of stones, strangler figs and empty halls.
He climbs to a height the first chance he gets.

And up there, with his ghostly, maudlin melody, Renne begins to build.

Title: Veneer of Civilisation Belongs Not Here
Location: Stacy; Angkor Wat






Renne was at first perplexed when his chirps echoed off of Angkor Wat's deserted, crumbling walls.

Perplexed. And then he found himself slowly discovering a strange contentment. This was, from the sound and smell of things, as wild as any other jungle he'd lived or been in. And he actually liked such primeval surroundings. He knew the unspoken laws here, the laws of Predator and Prey, the laws of sheer survival.
There was nothing draped in the trappings of status (aside from what lives and what dies), nothing held in the pretense of wealth. It was as one perceived -- nothing more, nothing less.

Renne let himself revert to the familiar ways here as he carefully roamed this place.

It was as forgotten and primeval as he was.

His crawling was at first slow, careful. He was the new animal here, learning the ground and what obstacles were located where. The first runs like this always earned him bumps, scrapes and bruises but that was the way of things -- Nature gave the test first and the lesson later. As his speed began to gradually pick up and he found his rhythm, Renne's mind didn't wander to places it shouldn't go.

He didn't think about the shadows or the wounds he never healed.

He didn't let himself hear the voices of dead men in the midst of a place where manhood meant absolutely nothing.

She'd found this place easily enough, it was one of the largest sources of mana in the City. A mass of plants, and in the center, something that looked rather a lot like some kind of temple. Perfect for what she desired, it would allow her to let out a call from the astral into the metaplanes with ease.

She'd set up a few dozen yards away from the temple, there was no telling who stayed there or what kind of security they'd have. After she'd set everything up the way she liked, drawing a ritual circle in the dirt with a knife, she sits. And closes her eyes. And then, with a hissing breath, she begins to let the mana flow through her body, feeling the life-energy fill, then exit her form. Shaping it into her call. All she wants is her mentor, Dragonslayer, to come. She feels serveral spirits begin to answer her call, but dismisses them swiftly.

After about ten minutes, blood starts to dribble from her nostrils. After twenty, she gasps and falls forward, catching herself with her hands. She stays there for a moment before pounding the ground once and letting out a frustrated "DREK!" Mei-Xing stays like that for several minutes, breathing heavily until she stops trembling. Then she starts to push herself to her feet, wiping at the blood running from her nose to her chin, and begins to wipe out the circle with a foot.

He didn't answer.

For those who would find themselves wandering the ruined, broken streets, they would discover the smells and flickering lights of incense-filled censers and braziers emanating from one particular building.

Despite the cold, intimidating exterior, those brave enough to enter would find it rather warm, if somewhat dark.

Numerous pews were arrayed before a large, ornate altar. Despite the resemblance to a Christian church, the symbols covering the walls would dispel any ideas that it was one. Winged skulls, ancient frescoes of golden armored warriors slaying horned demons with both sword and gun, the bones of martyrs displayed in small shrines all along the walls, and, most prominently, a massive, twin headed golden eagle symbol, wings spread wide, as if shielding those within the building from some unseen evil.

In the foremost pews one would find the Seer, Brother Cargn Thane, sitting quietly. Instead of the massive suit of armor he wore during the battle with the King of Nightmares, he wore a simple gray robe, giving him a form far more familiar to those he had spoken to before the battle. He sported a number of bandages--ones he applied himself, for he didn't trust the Xenos med-bay--covering the wounds he sustained in the fighting. In his hands he held a cup filled with a simple herbal tincture, one which helped ease the pain of his wounds.

To those who entered this ancient, holy place, he would offer a soft smile, and a seat nearby, for this was a place of worship, one where he gladly accepted all who would come.

Kelly was in her armor. The olive drab plates were polished to a glossy sheen, something that wasn't exactly practical if a soldier was trying to infiltrate...anything. But here on the ship, it hardly mattered. She could always dull the shine if the mission called for it. Behind her visor, her eyes were red and she knew her movements were sluggish. Or at least, what counted as sluggish for her. But she couldn't bring herself to sleep. The things she saw weren't things she would have willingly exposed herself to at any time. Chief Mendez had always said that a soldier's greatest weapon was their mind and that the most effective way to attack any enemy was to screw with that first. Apparently the Nightmare King agreed with that hypothesis, and she wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction of breaking her.

Still, even in wakefulness, she didn't feel safe. She's wandered in those 'waking dreams' that had been spreading, and it was beginning to get to the point where she didn't want to leave her armor. Here, inside the suit, she felt safe. She'd spent more than half her life behind the armor plate, and though she'd been trying to integrate with the crew outside it, for now she needed it. She felt at home. Still, her mind was foggy as she wandered aimlessly through the city. Her weapons were with her, loaded and ready, not that there was anything that would attack her here, but it was her routine. It was habit. She felt safer with then close by.

She couldn't tell how long she'd wandered here, among the buildings. It could have been hours, it could have been days, she simply kept walking, not caring where her feet brought her. Simply needing to stay awake. So it was that she found herself walking up toward the peak of a hill, the ruins of a familiar temple looming up ahead. Behind her visor, her lips curled in a wry smile as she ascended the cracked, weather-beaten marble steps and stepped onto the floor. She simply stood there for a long while, staring up at the broken statue of Athena that still stood on its pedestal. There was a sort of peace here. She didn't believe in gods, or fate, or destiny or any of that other crap, but in this place, she couldn't deny that there was...something that seemed to soothe her soul, a sort of calm that cut right through the exhaustion. She'd wondered of course. Magic existed, this Nightmare King was powerful beyond anything she'd faced yet. She'd seen things on the ship that she'd never believed existed. Who knew. Maybe in some far corner of some universe, the gods really did exist.

Shaking her head slowly at the thought, she reached up to pull off her helmet, leaning back against a wall and slowly lowering herself to the floor to sit. The armor plates clinked quietly against the floor as she set her helmet down, looking up at the statue of the goddess. Wisdom and war. Leaning back comfortably, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Maybe...just a few minutes. Maybe...

"Thank you." She whispered to the air.