AFTERMATH

[nightmods]

AFTERMATH

The memorial itself is a massive glowing crystal, under a positively cavernous ceiling. It's meant to do something but hasn't done it yet. There are many tables around it, covered in food, since it's a common tradition for many. In fact, things have been turned into an impromptu potluck, with far more food than just what's provided at the Pole having been shared.

The room is new, magically created. They've been told Vasilisa, who helped give information to Elle and Loki to save Jack from Baba Yaga, is responsible, having charmed the building to grow something special. It is a place that is not a place, one that will be magically dis-attached from the Pole and moved later.

Security in the Pole needs to stay tight thanks to Kuk's machinations. Right now, Vasilisa has charmed things to only allow the Guardians to go to the workshop side of things. In the future, the memorial will be moved to a more neutral location so visiting myths can go freely without intruding on the Guardians' base.

For now, though, it's at the Pole. Where the myths feel safe. Right now, the Memorial is neutral ground, a no-fight zone even between myths with rivalries. Right now, everyone is united in one purpose: grieving. Somehow, many have been called here to do it, whether through magical messengers, enchanted objects, summoning rituals, or simple word of mouth. The myths have ensured that everyone who was wondering where family or friends went, if they were taken by Kuk or killed or faded, has gotten their answer if possible.

The records stolen from the facility allowed for that. For the truth to finally be known.

The mourners all mourn different ways, in accordance to their cultures, whether those practices are distinct and disconnected from mortal life, like those of the Fae, or borne of the human culture a myth evolved from. There are grave goods and flowers. There is a fire for sacrifices of paper facsimiles of items meant to be provided in the afterlife. There are some mourners playing music and dancing. Other mourners are dressed in black, sing dirges, beat at their breasts, and pull at their hair.

They are given a space to do all these things around each other and leave the others to their own ways.

Meanwhile, those with less specific forms of grieving try to comfort each other. Two unicorns nuzzle each other as they whinny and cry rainbow tears. A brownie child clings to her father who holds her tight as tears stream down their faces. Others check in with each other, hug old friends or distant family, place arms around shoulder, incline heads in sympathy.

"- so sorry about Pixabelle -"

"- please accept my condolences -"

"- world hasn't been the same without the rainbows she made -"

"- wish you didn't have to know what I feel in losing a child -"

Jack hangs back from most of it, leaning against a wall, hunched against his staff, struggling to even make himself stay there. It's hard because he absolutely is getting a bit of a bombardment of other myths, but as far as bombardments go, it at least could be worse. It is myths from the facility, thanking him for rescue, and asking him to pass around more thanks to the other Guardians. Others thanking the Guardians for returning loved ones. And yet others, thanking the Guardians for at least making it so they had to stop wondering and could finally grieve.

"- thank you for making it so I finally knew what -"

"- came when we needed you -"

"- brought Marigold back to us -"

They at least say the right things, although it's clearly hard for him to hear some of what the others are saying about their hurt.

Frosty the Snowman is talking to some pixies near Jack. His magic top hat has magically turned into a long ski cap, since he mostly hits the pow-pow in the off-season outside of Christmas.

"Sorry guys. I see Biggie. I'm gonna go over, okay? He took, uh, he took the news about A.S. hard."

Jack winces. These are people he knows, the unsaved and the people that are devastated.

Frosty sloshes off. Jack looks like he's trying to muster the strength to start whatever it is that needs to be said...but he doesn't have to. Two women appear, from the floor. One bursts up in an explosion of stone and seems made of stone herself, her skin a dark red clay, her body crisscrossing lines of granite and sandstone. Her brown-red face is smeared with chalk. Her face is angular, with a strong profile.

The other springs up from vines that crack through the ground. She looks younger, her face softer. She is entirely green, her body made of vines, clothed in mosses, her hair scattered with flowers.

Everyone in mourning quiets. Many bow, curtsy, or incline their heads. The women don't introduce themselves. No myths ask them to.

"I wish we were all gathered for a better purpose," says Mother Nature, her vine hair writhing as it eternally grows. "It would normally do my heart glad to see so many of our kind that still walk the Earth, gathering in peace." She looks to Mother Earth. "My mother feels the same. But we are all here for something far more painful."

"An injustice that will not remain unanswered," says Mother Earth more sharply. "I have been assured by Jack Frost that if this 'Project Prometheus' continues to be a threat, it will be pursued. It is the will of the pursuers what they do with those they capture." A look makes it clear that she's perhaps judging that choice but also finds it fair for them to make it if they're the ones doing the work. "But we have been it will be pursued until the organization's eventual end."

Her voice softening, Mother Earth says, "For these efforts against such a vile group, we thank the Guardians. And we thank them for bringing us what we did not have: our loved ones or knowledge of what happened to them."

"And now we should attend to what must be attended to," says Mother Nature, "and do something we never should've had to do, at least at this scale, and especially for the reason we must."

The Mothers both raise their hands. The moon appears through a small hole in the ceiling below and shines down on the crystal. Between the three of them, it springs to life, projecting a massive moving illusion of many different myths. Over a hundred were killed in the facility over the years, either in front of the eyes of those freed from it, or found in their records.

Magical writing appears as an illusion of a myth flies into prominence. Even those who can't normally read will somehow have the knowledge of what the letters say passed into their minds. Even those who don't know each myth will read along.

"Now for the reading of the names." Mother Nature's tears start to drip down her face, as she looks at the illusion faces of many she's lived long enough to know. Where the tears hit the ground, plants spring up. "I wish it were not so, but this will be a longer ritual than any of our kinds have ever done."

Many of the myths hold hands or hold each other. Others throw themselves to the ground and weep, especially those listening to the names of the nymphs read off. A whole sisterhood is gone, but they left beloved friends and relatives in other sisterhoods behind. (When her illusion form comes up, Jack himself can't say her name, he can only whisper the name "Aesyle.")

Biggie (aka Bigfoot) held tightly by his bestie, Frosty, breaks down at "Abominable Snowman."

"You're my boy, AS!" he sobs out to his lost buddy, the one that rounded our their duo to a trio. "You're my boy!"

And through it all, the little Elves gather around, and in their infinite sweetness, they offer a soundtrack to the reading, something solemn enough to match the mood, bright enough to also be in celebration of those lost. They slowly move their heads forward and back, rhythmically jingling the bells on their little hats.

When it's over, when the far-too-long list has been read, the illusion over the crystal disappears. In its eventual final resting place, chosen and warded by the the Mothers, it will allow people to view all the lost myths or just specific ones.

The Mothers don't stay beyond the reading, disappearing into the Earth once more.

Their work is arduous and eternal. They must stoke the furnace of the Earth's core and move the tectonic plates, they must make the green things grow and maintain the brutal cycles of nature. And yet try to walk the balance of not allowing it to come to destruction: there are also fault lines to try to soothe into quiet, and storms to temper. The Earth is its own system that they simply try to maintain. They are its embodiments but not its makers. It has forces they must try to wrest in their place, created in its making. Equilibrium is difficult, now more than ever.

But others myths mill around, talking. Slowly winding down and leaving.

Jack himself walks off towards the workshop side of the Pole for a breather.

ELSEWHERE IN A DISCRETE HANGAR
There are a lot of facility employees that are being burned right now. Cut off, forced to deal with the consequences of appearing in secure facilities they don't have security access to. Their lives will be difficult but they'll still have them, they just will never have a place at Prometheus again. It's more expedient that way.

Others, those who evacuated unseen, or managed to talk their way out of more serious scrutiny when shoved through a portal somewhere secure, are waiting to be debriefed. Word is some people might even still keep their jobs. And their lives. But to be fair, there is a lot of word going around at the moment so who knows?

There are so many of them they're piled in an empty vehicle hangar at another PP base, seated in groups on the floor. Two analysts are pressed against the wall, away from all the others so they can speak unheard.

"I'm telling you -" hisses Jerry Garrigan to his friend. They're both keeping their voices down so this doesn't get to management.

"I don't believe you," whispers his friend Seth Hartley.

They're analysts. Jerry cannot help but analyze the situation. Seth cannot help but analyze how insane his work bestie sounds.

"I'm. Telling. You. Vikash says Smithson got saved by a Spider-Man. Not...the. Just a. But still. Now maybe they're just tulpas but -"

"It was probably just - I don't know. There was probably something in it for them."

"Okay, but there was the guy on a horse, the giant wolf that didn't actually do more than bruise people despite being a giant wolf, the bug chick and the other striped wolf... Plus, the guy on the intercom apparently wasn't lying about people not being harmed if they surrendered. Most of them got chucked through portals and arrested for trespass but they weren't hurt." He adds, "And you said the little cat kid let you go."

"Yeah, after shooting how many of our guys from security??" Seth points out.

"But he still let you go. Because the weird, nebbish, English gentleman -"

"'Foppish.' I said 'foppish.'"

"- convinced him to. One of the security guys in Omega Squad said Spider-Man also chucked the cat kid away from them through a portal. Saved their lives."

"Look, there's a lot that went down, a lot of reasons they could be manipulating us, things that might have done more to benefit each other, and a bunch of them still killed people. I heard Hellboy helped kill at least one security team when he could've just run and he's supposed to be a good guy."

A raised eyebrow. "First name basis instead of prisoner number, huh?"

It's new for Seth.

"...I make no apologies, they were very good movies and I was a fan. Del Toro is a visionary and so is Mignola. It doesn't change anything."

"Hard to be a hero if a bunch of people shove you in a cage. And you know the security guys on that cellblock? Completely unprofessional."

"With talk like this, I should report you to HR," says Seth.

Garrigan raises both eyebrows, half in concern, half in challenge.

"...I'm not going to," Seth acknowledges, "Beth would kill me, especially since Pam's her best friend. But I should."

"I just think we need to maybe...think about some things. Maybe investigate further? The whole fictional character angle is new. Tulpas have never been like this before."

They're both quiet for a while, Seth sitting against the wall with his arms crossed.

Finally, Seth says, "Smithson really said he was saved by Spider-Man?"

"A Spider-Man." A pause. "I didn't know there was more than one, maybe I'm too old."

"There are a bunch of them now. It's, like, a new thing. My kid loves those movies."

"Someone said they saw Superman, too," adds Garrigan.

Seth rapidly turns his head, skeptical. "No way."

"Big Blue Boy Scout's honor."

Seth sits for a long time, very quiet, and then shakes his head, slightly distraught that doubt is now creeping in, and says, "Son of a bitch."

PROJECT PROMETHEUS HQ
The pictures are spread out across a table, printed out. (The Director liked physical copies of things.) Devastation. The building destroyed by ice. The empty pit after.

Two other analysts are analyzing.

"It was a nightmare blocking off the public and keeping the news away from the truth. We had to use class 10 hypnotropics, work our connections with the police to keep the air space clear."

"What's the cover?"

"Gas main explosion. Fortunately, no one saw the ice. It crushed the inside of the fake building front top-level but didn't breach much of the external walls. And it collapsed quickly enough."

"Did anything survive? Anything?"

"So far, nothing but remnants. The ice pulverized every inch of the facility, broke every wall and internal support. There's now way to properly recover the bodies of personnel, computer harddrives, or lab samples. We'd have to sift it through a sieve."

"We'll have to push Frost up the most wanted list, I think."

"He's already in the top ten."

"Still, we haven't seen any other proof of the major players recently, for unknown reasons. And children have been claiming it was Frost and some others that brought the presents this year. Some have seen him leave the tooth money." The analyst slaps down a few blurry pictures of some of the displaced myths. Most of the footage was erased or damaged due to the team's efforts but not all. "And he appears to have help. More help than we ever imagined. We knew some of the more powerful myths, especially the Big Six, worked in cooperation but this was unprecedented. The staff debriefs coming in so far..."

"We should ask around and then update the Unofficial Top Asshole List, too. And get it over to the Head of Security Forces. They love when they get new chewtoys. Makes them even stop eating crayons for a while. And they're pissed their guys got hit so hard."

"...that, too. That fucker over the intercom was obnoxious."

"Let's get this batch of reports up to the Director. And the most recent casualty list. Hostile myths really tore into personnel, not just Security. I can tell he's close to flipping his shit from the last casualty report and it's worse now."

The two analysts gather up their reports and head towards the Director's office.

"How can you even tell? He always seems cool as ice."

"You know how he wanted to quit smoking? Saw him puffing like a chimney last time I went up there."

OOC DETAILS

Note: This is meant to cap off the plot with consequences of the actions people took within it. The group has made an impression on both the leadership and the rank and file Project Prometheus employees that will have future consequences.

Interaction: For the part that takes place in the Pole, you can choose to interact in any way you please. If you want to put up an open post to talk to others in the aftermath, during and after the ceremony you may. Or you can post an open locked to someone, or even noted as completely closed to comments if you want to just establish the way your character would pay their respects or contemplate the memorial.

NPCING: The only npcing will be in the open post I'm putting up for Jack, since some characters wanted post-plot interaction.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[nightmods]

Feel free to ask questions about anything including questions about the ooc effects of the plot, things you would like your character to know going forward, etc. etc.

JACK - OPEN

[letskicksomeice]

Jack doesn't quite escape the memorial service for a break without getting caught. It's clear as he tries to escape the crowd to catch his breath for a little while that there are some that still want to talk to him.

"Bro, I've been trying to find you before I bounce." Frosty the Snowman throws a snowy arm around Jack's shoulders. "Bro, you have no idea. Bro."

"Hey Frosty," says Jack, shaking his head a little, affectionately.

"Bro, seriously. Bro." The snowman is crying ice cubes now that clink to the stone floor, making something of a spectacle, but Jack doesn't look too bothered. "I was so scared in there, man. Like, there I was shredding the gnar on these choice slopes with these dope little groms I met on Mammoth Mountain, and then I go off-piste and blammo, get jumped by those totally beige hoedads and like. Dude, they were gonna try to melt me, dude. They were gonna try to melt me even with my hat on. They were like the un-broest bros. But you brought your dope new Guardians and they totally saved my icephalt. Thank you, man."

"I just...I wish we could've gotten there sooner. It must have been hard for you and Biggie, you two and AS were inseparable."

Here, Frosty nods a little, looking sadder.

"It's tough. Still, dude, look, don't be hard on yourself okay? You've got a lot on your plate right now, J-man. There's practically no way you could've found out sooner. Not everyone's like me and AS and Bigs were. Or like you and me where we meet up sometimes to yew it up on the slopes." He squishes Jack's shoulder with a snowy hand. "It's hard to tell when someone goes missing or whether it's just from naturally fading or what. I mean, let's be real, most of us are barely on Christmas card terms only, y'know? You did everything you could when you could and that matters, okay?"

Jack nods a small nod.

"I'm not much of a fighter, you've seen me try. But let me know if you need help with anything, okay? I've at least got connections and, like, I'll definitely tell you if I hear anything weird is happening through the grapevine."

"Thanks, Frosty."

Frosty pats Jack on the shoulder before sloshing off again and it seems like Jack was cheered up for a second but the way his face falls immediately after makes it clear it was just for show, for Frosty.

Finding a loveseat in a frozen-over window, hoodie up, he curls up with his back against the frame. And taps his fingers against the glass.

Multiple different forms spring up, etched in frost that spreads over the glass, women that look made of vines and flowing streams.

[credit_not_blame]

"Hey Jack."

Stacia has, unfortunately, more experience with memorial services that you'd think for a girl who never met any of her grandparents. She's been circulating through the crowd, joining in on various mourning rituals as invited and saying kind words when the rituals are closed to her. Her makeup isn't streaked because she has access to the good stuff now, but it's not unmussed.

"Remember that thing you told me not to forget, because if I forgot it, you'd have to go all the way to the other side of the Pole with me?" she asks, rubbing the back of her neck with every sign of sincere embarrassment. "Well, uh. I forgot it. Sooo..."

Jack absolutely hadn't told her to remember anything, nor was there anything that they should need to retrieve from the other side of the Pole. But Jack is clearly having a Time, and Stacia is willing to play the flake to get him a breather. Plus, she did promise to let him tell her about Aesyle and mourn with him when she was trying to talk him down from murder. Seems like as good a time as any to make good on that promise.

[millenyal_pink]

Elle sits next to Jack and watches him out of the corner of her eye. After a moment to settle, she turns to face him properly and reaches out her hand to gently rest on his shoulder.

Her brain is telling her all the ways she could approach this-- all the ways she could take Jack's grief and mold it into something sharp and useful-- but she pushes that calculation aside and tries her best to act without thinking first.

"If you need get away from this right now, don't feel like you have to stay. If not-" she takes a breath and doesn't think about all of the people (strangers-- threats?) she's showing her back right now.

"If not, remember that you're not alone," she purposefully echoes what she said that night they talked in her room, when he told her that he's dying with no hope for a cure and she held him while he cried.

[kemonookami]

Oh hey, it's the frosty one who wanted to take revenge over everything and everyone.

Garurumon shakes his head, having seen him from afar...but somehow he didn't just walk away. Instead, he lumbers closer to Jack Frost, until Garurumon just sits beside the love seat, keeping his distance.

"Is any of this making you feel better?"

A very direct question, really. Now that a memorial happened and Jack has gotten to speak to people around, Garurumon approaches and asks that, mostly to see if in the end taking revenge would have been better for Jack Frost.

[arthropoda]

Taylor saw Jack Frost talking to the other myths and decided it was best not to interrupt him. In the end she only approached when he was by himself, although he seemed melancholic.

He brought a couple mugs of cocoa.

"Here, have something. I don't know if you prefer it warm or cold, but I have one of each. I'll take whatever you don't want."

Supposing he even likes cocoa.

Looks like Taylor has decided to do her usual thing of trying to take Jack Frost under her wing to some extent. She saw someone who seems to be grappling with complicated things, so she tries to help.

[not_your_mary]

As much as she's aware that Jack is the enemy, Maria still gets that icky feeling she gets when kids are sad. Mary was hoping to adopt Laura, and that trait did apparently stick with Maria. Huh, so that's why? Because of Mary, that's it? Well, let's screw up this stupid kid, then.

She will not lose sight of the objective, and she will be a literal fly on the wall to spy on the group's movements. Right for this reason she should be on her best behaviour.

"Jack, right?"

She won't sit next to him, but lays her back against a nearby wall.

"I heard what happened. I'm sorry it had to go like that."

Is she?

"I know it's hard, but...Don't feel too guilty, okay? We are all here to help you, we are a team, right? So...Don't take all the burden to yourself. It's too much responsibility for anyone, let alone a kid like you."

[hallelujahjunction]

"Bad time?"

Dan's awkwardly navigated a memorial where plenty of people don't know who he is, plenty of people are down to thank him for his work, and plenty of people resent him for being one of the people to push hardest for the staff - the torturers, the kidnappers, the murderers - to be shown leniency. One of the people who had to swallow the most shit was Jack. Dan knows that. He's waited until he's run out of people to talk to (explain himself to), and done his own little memorial rites for the dead. Back home, those rites keep a ghost from attaching to the place. Here, it's just an acknowledgment of the tragedy of a life cut short, a way to mark the grief out loud.

Now that people seem to have left Jack alone, Dan wants to just check in, knowing he might be brushed out and being open to just leaving Jack alone.

"Thank you for listening, earlier. I know it weren't easy."

Stacia OTA

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia has a lot of experience with memorial services. Turns out that you end of having a lot of them when you're part of a warrior culture fighting a losing battle against the end of the world. She'd made sure to apply her makeup light, with extra care and a good setting spray for the occasion. And she's been circulating through the crowd, offering condolences and occasionally joining in with the ritual mourning when invited. She's even transformed into a wolf a couple times and let people cry into her fur or pet her or get themselves a little squished underneath her because sometimes pressure is good.

Right now though, she's taking a break and grazing on the potluck. There's a lot of new foods to try here, and she needs to drink some water if she's going to cry with people again. She nods in greeting at her fellow Guardians.

"Pretty heavy, huh?" She asks. The sort of meaningless small-talk opener that can either be dismissed with a single word answer if the other person isn't up for talking, or can sprout into a fuller conversation as needed.

[kemonookami]

"Guess it is. Hadn't seen one of these...memorials before."

It's not like he's stranger to death, but to him mourning seems to be a very human thing to do, really. Garurumon isn't sure what to think about it, but it doesn't seem like all that good of a thing.

"Maybe it's because I haven't really mourned before but it seems like a way to depress yourself more. Is this really how this goes...?"

All he sees there's a lot of people who are trying to deal with the heaviness of the situation. Kemonogami don't really have mourning in this kind of scale, so he has been wandering around a little awkwardly.

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia hums a little as she assembles her thoughts into something articulate. She's used to explaining things that, to her, are normal, to people to who they're abnormal; so she's had practice doing so without sounding judgmental. Usually to people who were born wolves, and Garurumon is pretty close to that.

"All these people would be depressed anyway," she says. "These people all decided that it's better to be sad in the company of other people who know what they're going through than it is to be sad and alone. They may have lost someone they cared about, but it can help to know that they're not alone in feeling the way they're feeling. Does that make sense?"

[arthropoda]

"Sure is. Think Jack is going to be fine?"

Apparently that's who is in Taylor's mind right now. She has been sneaking glances at Jack Frost, seeing him talk to the myths around, Taylor on the lookout for the chance to approach. She intends to not leave this memorial until she has made sure Jack Frost is alright.

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia makes a noise that's mostly a hard exhale through her nose. Could be a laugh or a scoff, or either, or both.

"Depends on how you define 'fine', I guess," she says, matter-of-fact but not unsympathetic. "He's been fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional since before we got here. Understandable, really; anyone would be in his position. Is he going to recover from this particular incident?" She shrugs. "I think he's got a better chance with us around, and because we stopped him from going full vengeance-mode back at the facility." She sighs. "I think we -- not just you and me, but 'we' as in the whole group -- are going to have to be a assertive in the emotional support department, until he actually believes he's not still doing this alone."

It's not great that he was willing to risk his relationship with Jamie. Given that he was relying on the kid to say who's trustworthy enough to be a good-enough Guardian, a disconnect there seems bad.

cw: illness

[not_your_mary]

"Yeah..."

The feeling that comes up in Maria's heart is not one of mourning or solidarity, rather envy. Triggers some hatred. Because before ending up in this place she was right there, on the roof of the Lakeview hotel, was waiting for James while shapeshifted as Mary because it's her who James is mourning, not Maria. So this memorial hits on a nerve.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this."

She channels her rage in fake attachment to the mission, in order not to raise too much suspicion. If Stacia sensed any bad mood radiating from her, this shall be the explanation. What she may notice that Maria isn't taking into account is a particular smell from some cells in her lung. Canines can be really sensitive to it...

Hellboy OTA, CW: smoking

[armagettingpancakes]

Hellboy ends up having more than a few myths come to thank him. After all, if it hadn't been for him and Little Cato, nobody would've what was happening.

"You're welcome." "I'm glad I could help." "I'm sorry I couldn't do more." The responses are genuine and sympathetic. He knows what it's like to lose people in terrible ways and knows what a kind ear can do to help. Hugs are graciously accepted when wanted or needed.

During the memorial itself, he quietly rubs his father's rosary between his fingers, He's not the most pious or religious person out there, but in this moment he silently prays that the myths killed by Prometheus rest peacefully.

At the end, as everyone trickles out, he heads outside himself and find a quiet spot under an awning. Rifling through his pockets he finds a match and a cigar and lights it. He idly considers flicking the match off into the snow as he takes his first puff, but decides that doing that here of all places is just a little disrespectful

[arthropoda]

Taylor notices Hellboy once the memorial is over. She sees him and decides to approach.

"Oh, you're one of the myths that used to be trapped. Are you going to stick around?"

Will this one be part of the team? Taylor hardly would blame anyone for wanting to leave, and truthfully this is a question she didn't ask a lot around, but...yeah. That this one is here instead of sent to a safe place via a snowglobe seems promising.

[demonicmiracle]

There's an elephant in the room that he unfortunately needs to address, mostly because he's worried if he doesn't do it, Aziraphale might take it upon himself to handle the situation and that's not a reality that Crowley wants to live in. Satan knows what nonsense might come out of the angel's mouth if he tries to discuss the whole demon thing. It isn't something he wants to do in front of a crowd, not only because it's clear that Hellboy is busy with the other myths, so he waits until the memorial is over and Hellboy has wandered outside to make his approach.

As soon as he sees the cigar come out, he fishes a cigarette from a pocket, lighting it with a tap of his finger.

"They weren't exactly going for subtle with you, were they?" They being somewhat vague, but likely referring to Hell. He has no idea what vibes Hellboy might be capable of picking up on from him, not when he's likely from another reality, so he's prepared to offer an explanation, he'll just wait to see if one is actually necessary.

[hallelujahjunction]

"I'll take that for you."

Dan comes out, holding out his palm in his biker gloves, an unlit menthol already in his mouth. He's quite used to, at this point, tucking used cigarette butts and used matches into a regularly-laundered pouch in his jacket, out of respect for the many wild places that he ends up working as well.

The memorial's been awkward for him. He feels for the myths dead, feels just as much for the myths tortured and trying to heal from being brutalized. But he went in to save their torturers, and some of them don't want anything to do with him for his trouble, and he respects that.

"You doing okay? This been rough," he says, flicking his lighter and getting a cigarette going.

glenn | OTA

[rheeliable]

[ The more things change, the more they stay the same. Which is, for the record, the weirdest possible understanding to have as a guy standing in the North Pole with a ton of definitely-not-human people who Glenn was pretty sure were definitely-fictional a few hours ago.

Not that it stops the understanding.

He's not new to death. Used to grief. Used to funerals. He's helped dig graves, put together markers for them. Been standing there while people he barely knows or doesn't know get the worst news of their lives. Same song, different language.

He gives all the mourners space, not exactly keen on inserting himself into their grief or accidentally messing up their rituals. Glenn mostly does circuits of the room's perimeter-- checking exits, equal parts scanning the crowd for potential trouble and for familiar faces, anything that feels like it can keep him occupied.

No one from home jumps out. So he settles into checking in on familiar faces from the mission, people he remembers were prisoners, who look equally kinda lost here. And he broadens from there to fellow (fellow????) Guardians, eventually. ]

You were with the rescue party, right?

[ Best way to get a feel for a group is to start getting a feel on the ground floor, anyway. ]

[antigravboy]

[The man that turns to face him definitely cuts an image of "not-normal" but it's in a very different way than the whimsical mythical beings grieving around the Memorial. It's in more sci fi way, from the futuristic uniform to the mechanical implants sticking out of his face and threaded through his right hand.]

[The uniform may not be identical to more familiar ones on capital ships, and is definitely updated compared to some of the more classic uniforms of famous ships past but it's still definitely got some familiar lines.]

[The rank pip and Delta are even more distinctive.]

[Recognizing him from the earlier chaos, Boimler nods.]

Ensign Brad Boimler, of the USS Cerritos. You can just call me Boimler.

[He holds out a hand to shake, the one without implants.]

You're one of the people we brought in, right? Have you been settling in okay?

[kemonookami]

[Very non-human and with an appearance that definitely shouts 'fictional', Garurumon is. He turns his head just enough to look at Glenn]

Yeah. You were one of the people trapped, right?

[Garurumon didn't pay much attention at who was trapped in the cells, but given how there are myths here that are just...humans, he doesn't rule out Glenn was one of those.

But for all he knows this human guy also can transform into a wolf. That's a common thing around here, somehow. Lots of wolves]

[bestbrotherever]

[Loki inclines his head in acknowledgment.]

Indeed I was. [Glenn probably won't recognize him visually from the rescue, but maybe might match his voice to the Helpful Warning.]

You were not one of the ones who sent the distress signal and alerted us to the prison. Are you a myth native to this world, or were you dragged here and captured before we could reach you?

Re: glenn | OTA

[armagettingpancakes]

Not exactly.

[Cato had mentioned a Big Red and this guy certainly fit the bill. If anything, that nickname was an understatement.]

I'm one of the guys that got caught. The name's Hellboy.

Dick | OTA

[forceforlight]

Dick does his best to watch the memorial, but it doesn't take long before the images start giving him a headache. The flash blindness is one, but strong lights are going to be a problem for another day or so, he thinks.

Still, there's a kind of comfort here. The Titans have a Hall like this. So do the League. And he's heard that the Legion has one in the future as well. A memorial to those who had been lost, a way to grieve, and a reminder of why they keep fighting.

He heads out of the room once the Mothers are gone, shoulders relaxing slightly once in the slightly dimmer interior of the workshop. He heads for the food, running his fingers back through his hair. "Might need to talk to the yetis about getting some darker lenses for a few days."

[mostdangerousbird]

The memorial is - fine. It's lovely, really, and Tim can tell that the fallen myths were loved not only as myths, but as friends. That's what makes the cavern feel close, so many connected in grief and love and memories. When Bigfoot breaks down nearby, close becomes suffocating when he recalls memorials he's attended. They'll always sting, and experience doesn't give him anything more useful to say than I'm sorry for your loss. The pool of comforting filler words is woefully shallow. He doesn't believe in an afterlife or know if myths would be let if there was.

When Dick quietly leaves, Tim follows out of concern. He would've thought Dick would stay until the crowd began to drift apart. Maybe he feels like he's intruding. Maybe he's upset. (Maybe he's just looking for a convenient excuse to flee the emotional scene as well.)

Or maybe he's toughing through an injury. (Again.) "We could ask if they can turn the lights down in the meantime."