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Gone But Not Forgotten [ Action / Video ]
Jun. 9th, 2014 10:52 pm[ For the past week or so, since coming back from the Draft, Kirk had been wondering what to do with what he had brought back from there besides the nasty feeling crawling up and down his spine almost every moment of the day. He had brought back dog-tags he had snatched off one of the sacrificed bodies, rubbing across the damaged names and possible dates. They were hard to make out, and he wished he could read them better, but he couldn't.
And somehow, in the deepest hours of the morning, he figured out what he would do. So he got up, tugged on his boots and got a few items to stuff in a small pack, and headed out into the nearby woods, painfully aware that said woods would never be haunted by Katniss again. Or, maybe they would, but no guarantee it was the Katniss he knew, had come to care for. Another dagger of sadness slid through him, making him blink rapidly as he trekked his way slowly, looking around until he found the perfect tree with the perfect crook, sunlight peeking through branches and smattering the forest floor.
He sat down, gathering up some broken branches and twigs, binding them together with string he had in the small pack, making something of a cross. It wasn't that he was particularly religious, by the shape was easy to stand in the ground and let it hold, easy to drape the tags over, happy to see that, through his guess, some time during the day they would get sunlight. It wasn't much. Some might call it pitiful. But this place was quiet, peaceful and even beautiful if you ignored the fact that if you walked long enough you'd run into a wall. But it was better than what those poor people had at the end, and far less than they rightly deserved.
Slowly he turned on the camera to the journals, letting his face linger for a moment before he turned it to show the tiny memorial he had made. ]
I don't know if anyone wants to, but... I put this up here. It's not far in, and I'll write out better directions later. But if you want to say respects for those people, and I wish I had even a name for one and I don't, but if you want to - well, you can do it here. Or yell at it, I guess, or what it is you feel you need to do or your culture says you should or your religions.
I just don't want what happened to them to be forgotten.
[ And with that the Captain signs off and sits for a little longer, paying respects to people he still believed they should have done more for. ]
And somehow, in the deepest hours of the morning, he figured out what he would do. So he got up, tugged on his boots and got a few items to stuff in a small pack, and headed out into the nearby woods, painfully aware that said woods would never be haunted by Katniss again. Or, maybe they would, but no guarantee it was the Katniss he knew, had come to care for. Another dagger of sadness slid through him, making him blink rapidly as he trekked his way slowly, looking around until he found the perfect tree with the perfect crook, sunlight peeking through branches and smattering the forest floor.
He sat down, gathering up some broken branches and twigs, binding them together with string he had in the small pack, making something of a cross. It wasn't that he was particularly religious, by the shape was easy to stand in the ground and let it hold, easy to drape the tags over, happy to see that, through his guess, some time during the day they would get sunlight. It wasn't much. Some might call it pitiful. But this place was quiet, peaceful and even beautiful if you ignored the fact that if you walked long enough you'd run into a wall. But it was better than what those poor people had at the end, and far less than they rightly deserved.
Slowly he turned on the camera to the journals, letting his face linger for a moment before he turned it to show the tiny memorial he had made. ]
I don't know if anyone wants to, but... I put this up here. It's not far in, and I'll write out better directions later. But if you want to say respects for those people, and I wish I had even a name for one and I don't, but if you want to - well, you can do it here. Or yell at it, I guess, or what it is you feel you need to do or your culture says you should or your religions.
I just don't want what happened to them to be forgotten.
[ And with that the Captain signs off and sits for a little longer, paying respects to people he still believed they should have done more for. ]
