![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[ video + action if you're near the shuttle bay? ]
[ the video feed is abruptly switched on to reveal Hotspur looking quiet and pensive. For once he's not in the cavernous shuttle bay but in the pilots rec room that overlooks it. At his back is a bank of grey lockers; clearly he's sitting on the floor and propping himself up against them, head reclined wearily back and upturned towards the fluorescent strip-lighting above. For those that are looking really carefully there's a thin cut across the bridge of his nose: the recurring broken cartilage that just won't stay in one piece.]
There are some of the Old Gods on board. Old Gods from Sol Earth. [ He sounds pensive, if a little tired, and his voice is low enough that he's on the verge of whispering. ] Gods - actual gods – are coming with us...
[ There's a sharp noise off screen from the dark reaches of the seemingly never-ending depths of the shuttle bay and Hotspur's gaze is instantly torn away from the device. A pipe creaking as it cools maybe, but the sound is sharp enough to echo in the cavernous room beyond where Hotspur is sitting. He shifts uneasily before slowly turning back to the device in his hand. ]
You see, people always reckon space is empty and barren and everything, but it's not. Actually, space isn't empty at all. Where I'm from the ashes of the thousands of humans that died during the exodus from the old Earth were cast out in to the stars. Plenty of other space-faring civilisations do it too. Sometimes there's no other way to bury your dead in space but to return them to the stars... And bodies are made of bits of carbon and space dust, right? So space is full of spirits. Mainly the quiet kind.
[ Mainly, he said. ]
And now the Old Gods are coming with us. Having them on board can only be a good thing, I think.
There are some of the Old Gods on board. Old Gods from Sol Earth. [ He sounds pensive, if a little tired, and his voice is low enough that he's on the verge of whispering. ] Gods - actual gods – are coming with us...
[ There's a sharp noise off screen from the dark reaches of the seemingly never-ending depths of the shuttle bay and Hotspur's gaze is instantly torn away from the device. A pipe creaking as it cools maybe, but the sound is sharp enough to echo in the cavernous room beyond where Hotspur is sitting. He shifts uneasily before slowly turning back to the device in his hand. ]
You see, people always reckon space is empty and barren and everything, but it's not. Actually, space isn't empty at all. Where I'm from the ashes of the thousands of humans that died during the exodus from the old Earth were cast out in to the stars. Plenty of other space-faring civilisations do it too. Sometimes there's no other way to bury your dead in space but to return them to the stars... And bodies are made of bits of carbon and space dust, right? So space is full of spirits. Mainly the quiet kind.
[ Mainly, he said. ]
And now the Old Gods are coming with us. Having them on board can only be a good thing, I think.