Beside the Singing Fountain
Beside the Singing Fountain
Summary: Greje summons the voice of Apollo for guidance
Date: 22 ACH
Related Logs: None

Regas walks in behind a grinning Effie. This is the last place he looks comfortable. Running a hand along the front of his jacket, he clears his throat slightly and lets the hatch go. Not exactly seeing the CAG coming in behind him like JAWS. Do dum. Do dum.

Rue could indeed be JAWSing after Regas. She's definitely not got a prayerful look about her. Dressed in crisp uniform blues, she stalks after her CO. "Sir."

Bell slips into the chapel. In a non-sharklike manner. More of a mouselike skitter.

Effie wanders in with a grin on her face, patting down her pockets. You never know how long these things are going to go. Her pocket crinkles a little. Yep, she remembered a snack. The mostly-blonde Deck Crewman makes her way to one of the seats, not far from where she sat last time she was in here.

Regas feels the hair rising up on the back of his neck. Damn DRADIS is out of whack here for shark attacks. Hearing the dulcet tones of the CAG, his hand pauses and then lowers to his side. Looking over his shoulder, he notices her stalking and decides this is not the place for a chewing. "Major," he murmurs in a quieter tone and eases near her, moving her sideways in a crab-walk along the back row of pews. The fall out will be less on everyone else.

Craven slips into the Chapel, along side the limping figure of D'Artanion and after a brief look around, they begin to make their way towards the middle set of pews. Slipping within and then along the length of them to one end, they finally lower down to take a seat, hands folding together in their lap as they direct their attention towards the alter.

Eyebrow perking after Regas, Rue moves along towards that back row of pews. The crabwalk makes her crack a smile. Right before she says, "I was hoping to talk to you about St. Germain."

Bell sits near Effie. Totally Blonde drawn to Mostly Blonde. She offers the deckhand a rather nervous little smile as she situates herself. As if she's trying to figure out the proper way to sit in the chapel.

Effie seems to be dealing with a little bit of the seat fidgets as well. She returns Bell's look, nods, and crinkles the granola bar in her pocket a little as she kicks her legs crossed. She adjusts her dark framed glasses a little, and eyeshifts to Bell. "You ever been to one of these before?" She says this in what she considers a very quiet voice. So only… uh. The whole row in front and behind hear it.

Regas remains standing there a moment as he looks down and over to the CAG. Chapel. St. Germain. Then it clicks with him, "Ah," folding his hands in front of him and looking all somber within the holy place. His voice remaining low, "I charge extra for keys to the airlock."

The altar is set for Apollo's high rites, the center of the altar taken up by a stone approximately half the size of a football and mildly meant to resemble a beehive. The figurine of Apollo takes pride of place at the right hand, while his Dark Twin is relegated to third position, but still present for the rites. Incense burns at the base of each of the statuettes, and the priest kneels on the three-legged stool, the dark red robes illuminated by the candles decking the altar and the space behind it. Nothing of her flesh can be seen besides her hands, which work methodically and with precision, highlighted in the candlelight, laying dried laurel and barley over the top of a small bronze brazier set in front of her. She works in silence, but doesn't seem agitated by the ambient conversation. One or two of the leaves she's arranging are lifted into the darkness underneath her hood, and presumably eaten.

Bell shakes her head. "Nah. My folks were sort of…submarine temple-goers, my dad called it. We'd surface for major holidays, then go down again. I…wanted to come now, though." She whispers as well, but her voice is sort of shrill, so it carries to the row as well. She falls quiet as the priest gets to work, though. Watching with wide blue eyes.

"He's a competent pilot. It's his mouth that needs adjustment," the CAG says softly, eyes meeting Regas' and then facing forward towards the altar. "I'd like to reinstate his rank and decorations, conditionally. The condition: he ends up brigged again, he's out of the Fleet." She keeps her voice very low, eyeing the priest at the front.

Effie nods to Bell and says softly, "I know how that is," She smiles again. "Oh yeah, do I." She clears her throat and falls silent, her eyes focused on the dance of the hands of the woman leading the rite. She's somewhat mesmerized by this, and even sits, dare we say it, still. For a moment.

Regas watches the priest for those long, quiet moments. One ear on the CAG's words. It might seem after awhile he is ignoring her, as he keeps an eye on the candles and incense. His words come out in a whisper, "You may have his decorations, but he still had his Rank, that was up to you." His gaze shifts over again, watching her now instead of the front.

For the most part, Craven is simply quiet, his eyes focused on the priest by the alter, watching her movements and actions. Every once and awhile, he casts a quick look over towards D'Art and then across the room towards that he can visible see. From there, it's back over towards the priest and the alter.

The lights are dimmed until they are completely off. Many shadows cast the chapel that is now solely lit by the candles around the altar. The door is closed and Dane Ramiro makes his way through the center of the room in his off-duty gear. Scar from the wound on his right arm nearly healed, he keeps his eyes serious as he carries a purified bowl of water to the altar. Kneeling before it, his mouth moves in quiet whispers as he says his prayer to the idols present. Breathing in the incense, he sprinkles some of the water over the altar as an offering. Remaining silent, he closes his eyes.

"Thank you, sir," Rue whispers out, hands folding in front of her. "I'll make it clear to him how thin the ice he's treading on." Then she goes silent, watching the priest intently. Or rather, she's silent for a few moments before she says, "This is the first time I've stepped foot in the Chapel."

Bell nods to Effie, leaning forward a little. Kind of mesmerized by the spectacle, herself. Her gaze roves back to Ramiro as he comes in. More curious. Blue eyes follow him.

"You'll earn it," Regas murmurs once more and then goes silent as the lights go out and he watches the Corporal moving up front and beginning the ceremony. It takes another few heartbeats before he comments on the last, with a simple: "Me too."

Eli is late as hell…slipping into the Chapel and standing in the back and staying there. You can't see her.

When the lights are dimmed until they are completed off, both Craven and D'Art shift their attention towards to emerging figure of Ramiro, where they watch as he moves over towards the alter with the purified bowl. There's a soft murmer, a nod of a head and then the silence takes over again.

Greje finishes arranging the leaves and puts both hands on the wooden handles of the round brazier, her voice emanating from the darkness below her hood as she calls for holy silence to be maintained, "Ha-su-cje…" she speaks, her voice light and wavering slightly. "Holy silence." It doesn't mean that talking is forbidden, it only means to make sure not to accidentally curse and render the rites tainted. When Dane approaches the altar with prayer and sacral water, she lifts her voice further, "May these offerings of fire and cleansing water be pleasing, Lord of the Navel-Stone, Pythian Apollo whose voice proclaims the highest will of Zeus. Bend your head in approbation, if ever incense has burned to honor you upon this altar, and be here, be with us, come to your rites and partake in them. We welcome you, raising our voices to bring you glory." She raises the brazier by its two handles, holding it toward Ramiro to light, and announces, "First Paean." There are hymnals provided for those who don't know the words, and a decent pause is given in which she lifts up an almost primal-sounding cry, wordlessly but with enthusiasm crying out the tune of the strophe while people prepare to sing.

Ramiro remains quiet before the altar as he continues to kneel. Lowering his head to the brazier, he produces a match from beside the altar and holds it to a candle. The candle ignites the long-stemmed match, and it is slowly brought to the brazier for lighting. Once lit, he rises and moves to sit at the side of the altar, the gathered people to his left and Greje to his right. Meditatively, he starts to sing the First Paean with his eyes closed.

Bell snaps her lips together. Saying nothing, so as not to risk tainting the with blather. So the hymnal confuses her for a moment. She looks at it, figuring it out, finally deciding that this must mean they can sing without being struck by lightening. She joins in softly. Her singing voice is likewise shrill, and has a limited range, so soft is probably best.

For her talk of not having been in this particular chapel, Rue doesn't seem to need the hymnal in front of her to start singing along. Eyes forward, so not looking aside at Regas.

When the signing begins, Craven offers a slight smile to himself and he begins to join in, without the need of the hymnal. His voice is soft, almost melodic, as if he's used to signing along in this type of environment.

Regas looks even more uncomfortable and there is that jacket fidget again. Another slight throat clearing. A hope for someone to beep him. When the hymns begin and that primal-sounding cry goes out, he presses his lips somewhat tighter together.

Effie does not sing. Effie watches, eyes on Ramiro as he sings. She reaches up, and quietly gnaws a fingernail, staring at the meditating marine. As voices of fellow crew join in, she hunches down a little in her seat, but remains silent.

Eli cannot sing. Or if she can she doesn't sing…she mumbles though, under her breath, head bowed and hand moving to cover half of her face. The half that has her mouth so nobody can see or possibly hear. Mumblemumblelalamumble.

Greje can sing. It's not gorgeous, but she's had some training in it. As she pulls the brazier back to settle it in front of her, it flares with flame long enough to light her face for a moment, catching a glance of her gazing at the altar as she sings out the paean, keeping pace until the chorus from the room catches it and carries it on. She puts the lid over the brazier, seven holes in its lid emitting seven streams of smoke in lines toward the ceiling, like the seven strings of Apollo's lyre, and, as if poised to play the hymn along, her fingers reach to the strings and the smoke coils about them before she bows her head, the smoke catching in the furrow of her hood and spilling around her fingers to trail in slow, almost sentient-looking spirals around the priest's hidden face as she inhales the fumes from the burning herbs, her singing growing fainter, then stronger as she guides the chorus into another repetition of the hymn once they'd reached its end.

Ramiro continues to sing as Greje starts the hymn up again, his voice at a medium volume, he's not troubling himself with the need to sing louder or quieter than anyone here. Looking a little pale, as if he's been fasting the evening, he breathes slowly as he continues the hymn until the Sister finds the voice of Apollo.

Rue 's singing trails off after a while. She looks down at her hands which are shaking and then up front at Greje, before shifting to the closed door.

Bell continues to sing along, though her voice gets even softer, wide eyes on Ramiro and Greje. Mostly Greje. Her nose twitches as the smoke streams up. Inhaling the scent it brings to the chapel.

Regas casts a quick glance as Rue sings. Not something he expected. Hands still folded in front of him, he does listen and watches the ceremony continue. When the singing pauses, he glances once more over to the CAG and notices the hand shaking. One of his own reaches over to clasp the warmth of his own over hers for a brief moment.

Must be the incense. For a second, Rue thinks the Space Nuns are playing tricks on her. She blinks and looks from the door back down at her hand, finding it clasped however briefly. Lips pursed, she stares forward intently. Side note: shaking is gone.

Eli is still in the back. Watching.

Greje eventually does leave the singing, for the most part, to the assembled, murmuring her way through most of it and only singing out the rejoining 'io paean paean' with a full voice. The smoke -is- quite a potent combination, and although the priest is taking the brunt of it (and was already quite doped by the time the ceremonies began, to boot) the scent of the burning herbs does begin to give the assembled a nice little buzz, which those who frequent these sorts of rites generally associate with the presence of the God. Greje, for her part, begins to cry 'Io Paean' at the strangest moments in the song, hunching further over the fumes and breathing deeply between the sacred cries as she invites the God to incubate her person, "Io Paean! Io Delie! Paean Paean! Io Loxias! Paean! Paean!"

Ramiro's eyes snap open when Greje's cry cuts through the song. Lifting his head, he turns to watch the display for a moment before making sure the bowl of purified water is close to him. Breathing deeply, he seems to be preparing himself for something.

Effie is wide-eyed and still, curls of blonde hair brushing her cheeks as she leans slightly forward and murmurs, under her breath, "That must be some good stuff…" Was that out loud? Oh right. Eyeshift.

Bell eyeshifts as well, looking from the Greje to Ramiro to Effie. She inhales. Speculatively. And blinks. Perhaps expecting to see pink elephants crawl out of the walls. She does not. She shrugs.

Greje spends 1 luck points on Summoning Apollo. Let's not mess this up..

<Trait Roll> Greje rolls Religion and achieves a degree of Good (4).

Regas watches this religious ceremony with neutrality, his eyes even go from the small statue of Apollo up to the ceiling. Maybe he expects smoke and mirrors now. There is another slight 'commandy' fidget as he checks the watch on his wrist.

Rue is quiet. Quiet and watching. Taking a deep breath, she holds it. Waiting for something, as it were.

"Io Paean! Loxias, Loxias! Oh, God!" Greje finally just shouts out, as the spirit starts to get a hold of her. It's pretty terrifying. Her heart races, her cheeks flush, "Oh, God, oh, God, oh God oh God OHGODOHGO——!!!!!!" she shrieks before her entire body jerks to a sudden rigidity, one hand flinging out to hold to the top of the beehive-shaped stone, neck snapping back and hood flying backward from her head. She hasn't showered since entering the period of purification, but she's kept herself clean, after a fashion, with oils and unguents. Her hair and face shine in the candlelight from the oils, and she almost seems to be giving off a light of her own as her back spasms, her mouth and eyes wide open as she gasps the holy auras with clenched throat, unblinking and, finally, unmoving, entering the Pythian trance. The God is in the house. Or, more specifically, in the priest.

Effie straightens and sits as far back in her chair as she can go. There's a tension in her body like she might bolt for the door at any moment. Crewman Logo has never really been to any rites before, and never seen this in person. Stories are one thing. But. Woah.

Eli takes another step towards the exit warily, eyes widening. But she keeps watching, cuz damn.

Eyes widening, Rue looks away from the Priest. The floor is interesting. Intriguing even. Under her breath, she comments to Regas, "I think that was the worst of it, sir." Worst, obviously, is a relative term.

Bell leans forward. Staring. Rather like one might at an accident, but she doesn't blink. "Whoa…" she murmurs. It's the only commentary she can come up with.

Regas is pretty sure there needs to be a medic, then he notices D'Art over in the other pew with a doctor. They aren't rushing to help the Priestess. He reaches one finger up to the collar of his jacket and pulls on it abit as he clears his throat after watching that screaming and heaving. He doesn't even try to speak at this point.

Ramiro blinks, but manages to not be taken aback in an apparent display that he's never seen this before himself. Blinking slowly, he turns to face the gathered people. "You…" He pauses, breathing slowly. "…you now stand in the presence of the voice of Pythian Apollo." He swallows. "One by one you may come forth and be anointed with pure water and ask a question. I have been given the honor of interpreting his voice. Please, the first approach and ask your question."

Rue looks up from the ground again as Ramiro speaks and let's out the breath she was holding. Stepping past Regas, she moves into the aisle. She doesn't bolt for the door, but remains in the aisle. It seems she has a question.

Greje barely breathes. One listening carefully might hear the faint wheaze of air past her clenched vocal chords, but otherwise she doesn't make a sound.

Eli looks to make sure there are Medics and the like at the ready, still mentally thinking 'Damn' okay? Wow.

Ramiro turns his eyes to look at Rue. Reaching out with one hand, he turns his hand to face palm up, and becons her forward with a crooked finger. Speaking quietly, he shakes his head to her. "It's okay. We're all here to ask questions. Please, kneel before me." He says, preparing to anoint her with the water should she decide to ask.

She did not step…a muttered sound comes out of the Commander as the CAG moves in front of him to get out of the pew. Regas releases a slow breath. His gaze finally follows the woman and then he looks back to the front. One hand reaches down to the pew in front of him and he lightly grips the hard wood there. (no comments!)

Rue bites her lower lip a moment, looking vaguely unsure of herself. But her feet betray her. Stopping before Ramiro, she sinks down to her knees and waits. While being anointed, she eyes Greje, chewing on her lip some more. The silence starts to get awkward. No question forthcoming until she blurts out: "Why do you take from us those whom we love?"

Effie's eyes go immediately to Rue. And they stay there. Yep.

Bell stands. Not that she goes up yet. She just holds herself there, watching the interplay between the CAG and the gods. Blue eyes wider now than one might think possible for a human face. It may cause her muscle strain.

Hektor's a pale presence in the back ranks. He's utterly silent, almost not breathing, prayer beads woven tightly into the long fingers. The pale eyes are alight with fervor, however.

Regas focuses on the front now and as the question is asked, it sobers him somewhat. His gaze immediately goes from the priestess to Ramiro, wondering what they'll come up with for this one.

Greje remains in the trance, silent, eyes fixed, dilated almost past the point of human capability. No wonder there are no lights on in here. If she hears the question, she gives no sign, and the moments pass. No awkwardness, however. Those who have been to the rites before know the need for patience, and the atmosphere remains one of expectation for almost ten minutes of silence and shuffling before the priest's mouth begins to move, and she begins to speak. Or, rather, Apollo does. The voice coming from the priest's mouth is most decidedly not her own, replaced by a deep and resonating tone, the simplest and mildest utterance of which echoes on the chapel walls. The voice speaks peacefully, the priest otherwise unmoving but to facilitate the voice. It speaks in no tongue known to man, though for those educated in the Kobolic tongues it has a familiar quality.

Ramiro closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the voices coming from Greje. A bead of sweat falls down his jawline as he fights to control his breathing. Even he is a little startled, but he perseveres. His eyebrow twitches as if he's trying to solve a math problem. "The Pythian Apollo says…that all people are consumed in fire. Fire that purifies." He opens his eyes, a confused look on his face. "But it is the souls of the brave who choose to leap into it."

Bell shudders a little at Ramiro's words. Closing her eyes. Fire. That brings a tear, which runs down to her cheek. Not a happy picture in her head.

Lips pressed into a thin line, Rue lifts her gaze to watch Greje as she responds, before flicking it to Ramiro for his Godly translation. She's silent a long moment before her jaw sets tightly. Pushing herself to her feet and she turns to head back down the aisle. Without looking left or right, she heads straight for the exit, shoving through it and out.

Gnaw. Gnaw, gnaw. Effie reaches a colorful hand up to her mouth, and resume gnawing on a cherry red fingernail (dark cherry red).

Eli is watching quietly, arms folding over her/his chest and she just looks a bit uncertain, moving out of Rue's way and then looking back to God of the Acid Trip and the translator with some trepidation. Questions are…scary things and hers? She ain't gonna ask in front of a bunch of people.

Regas watches and listens, then he follows the CAG's steps as she leaves the temple. A slight frown setting on his lips and then his head turns to look back to the front when the hatch closes. "The Gods help those who help themselves," he murmurs half to himself, "So Say We All." Then he turns out of the pew and heads out of the chapel. Back to work.

Bell opens her eyes, blinking rapidly, and turns to watch Rue go. Face scrunching up. She seems to consider bolting herself. But, after taking a deep breath, she steps into the aisle. To wait her turn to confab with the gods.

Ramiro watches Rue walk out with a hint of sadness in his eyes before turning to the aisle. "Please…another come forth and be anointed. Kneel before me to speak."

The line is forming. And Adrastos takes a deep breath, and insinuates himself into it, behind Bell.

Greje seems unaware of people coming or going, or of the interpretor giving answers beside her, or… really of anything. She kneels silently on the tripod, the smoke from the brazier connecting her to the altar as if with an umbilical cord. She keeps her hand on the omphalos, mouth open, unmoving.

Bell comes forward, kneeling, decidedly nervous. She doesn't look at Ramiro, but rather keeps her eyes on Greje. They're still wide. "What…what happened to them? Our family. Our friends. Now that they're…dead. What's happened to their…souls?" She uses the term as if not entirely sure it's the right one.

Again, there's waiting involved. Some of the others in the room take up the time with prayers, a few of them begin lightly to take up the first Paean again, joining hands in the presence of the God. But after a little less than twenty minutes the God begins to speak again, much like before, not disturbing the priest from her rigid perching. Her lips move and the strange words echo through the chapel.

Again, Ramiro pauses, letting the strange voice that could not possibly be Greje's fill his ears. He closes his eyes and tilts his head in Bell's direction. "Pythian Apollo has said to…" He again, tries to piece it together, trying to also keep his mind from over-complicating itself. He tries to repeat in the same style of speaking that forms from Greje's lips. "There is…a crossroad…in the sky…one finds…long lost…away." Ramiro looks up, looking tired in the brain from translating. He breaks out of the prose. "You will meet them again after finding a road with three forks alongside the sea." Ramiro blinks, a remorseful look on his face. "There you will cross the river and find answer that will suit you."

Bell looks distinctly uncomfortably during all the waiting. She just kneels there, fidgeting, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. As if contemplating following Rue in fleeing. When Ramiro listens she speaks, nodding, her lower lip trembling. "Okay…" she murmurs. Before retreating to a pew. Where she huddles.

"Please…the next come forth and be anointed." Ramiro says, wiping his brow.

Which would be Adrastos. He looks uncertain, but his tread is firm as he strides up, and then kneels with surprising grace. "Where should we go now?" he asks, simply.

Eli sighs and just edges forward…looks around for any fellow marines and sighs and edges forward into that line, scowling and keeping her head bowed the entire time.

Apollo's voice increases in volume in an almost immediate response. If at a mild tone it echoed through the room, now it crashes there like Zeus' thunder, resounding off of the bulkheads and making the candles flicker.

Ramiro trembles a little at the change in voice, purified water still dripping from his fingertips over the bowl. He furrows his brow softly. "He says: Sail to the water's edge, to where your mother lies unburied. Her bones will mark the hour of the breaking storm and sun-rain. The shades will lead you."

Adrastos doesn't flinch, though he's clearly tempted. The answer clearly doesn't mean overmuch to him, yet, but he nods. When he's waited for the proper amount of time, he heaves himself up, to return to his former place.

Ramiro looks up, scanning his eyes from Effie to Eli. "Do we have another that wishes to ask a question?"

Eli does step forward, looking around to make sure nobody else is in the line!

Motioning for Eli to kneel, Ramiro dips his fingers in the purified water and anoints her for purity. "Ask your question as you please." He says quietly.

A question for a God. A question… for a God. Effie does a little eyeshift, then scoots over one from her seat toward the aisle. The granola bar wrapper in her pocket crinkles quietly. Crinkle. It's a it of a lateral move, and it gives Eli time to get on up to the altar.

Eli sighs and looks around before moving forward to kneel before Ramiro, grimacing at the water and just clearing her through. "Uh…okay, gods are all knowing so err, your honored godliness you'll know the context of why I ask why I ask…but…" She trails off. "Even if my father might not walk the mortal world anymore…or if he doesn't ya know…if he is dead, will he finally get the son he wished for to make him proud?" = Very complicated question.

Greje is starting to drool some, with the force of the voice shoving itself through her clenched vocal chords, her mouth open as she stares off blankly, continuing to breathe the God and let him into her as her own saliva rolls down her chin, marked with streaks of pink where the voice has left her vocal chords raw and bleeding. It isn't long before the voice echoes once more from wall to wall, however, answering the question in firm, strong words.

Ramiro pauses as the words echo, taking a few slow breaths before he looks up. Tiring as well, he lets the words flow through him, trying hard not to analyze. "Pythian Apollo says the following words." He lifts a brow and then lowers it. "In peace and in exodus, Pythian Apollo watches all with his bow and arrow. Zeus became man when he took the throne of his father. From behind the mists a father is proud of those who take up the bow." Ramiro looks up to Eli. "You are watched and honored."

Bell remains huddled in her pew. Processing. She tries not to look at Greje or Ramiro. Though she doesn't flee. And she still listens.

Eli bows her head as she listens and is she tearing up? Maybe. But she'll never admit it as she takes a deep breath and then finally gets to her feet, turning around silently and covering her face with a hand before offering a firm. "..thankyou." And then she returns to where she was standing before.

Ramiro looks to Effie quietly, taking up the bowl of purified water. "Please come forth."

Effie sidles her way into the aisle. There's a moment when it seems as if she might bolt. She could bolt, she probably, but no. The mostly-blonde shoves her hands into her pockets, and makes her way to the altar. She glances between the various tools of the trade and Ramiro. She crouches, then very carefully settles on her knees by the man. She opens her mouth to say something, closes it again. Effie takes a breath. "Is it, um." She takes off her glasses, and brushes curls out of her eyes. "Is it um… can I survive this war without hate entering my heart?" She swallows, and stares very hard at Ramiro as her dark eyes fill with unshed tears. "Will I have to choose between my duty and my—" The chubby Crewman pauses, tears sparkling in her eyelashes, yet to fall. "Clarity."

There's a long wait. Nearly fifteen minutes. Perhaps the God is giving the priest time to swallow or soothe her aching throat. Not that she's doing either, simply remaining upright on the tripod, though her mouth closes slightly. When the voice returns, it has returned to its mild, evenly echoing, vaguely musically resounding tones.

Hearing the words of Apollo, Ramiro locks eyes with Effie, smiling softly. "Pythian Apollo says there is nothing, even in the deepest ocean, worthy of your hate." He says softly, giving her a comforting smile.

Effie nods once, her eyes straying the altar, passing over Greje's face. She studies the priestess for a quiet time, and then full eyes return to the marine very nearby. Effie looks at Ramiro for a long, silent moment. Tears do not spill, but they threaten. Oh, how they threaten. She doesn't sniffle, but there's one of those looming, too. "Was she…" She pauses on the eve of a question she doesn't know how to ask. Effie shakes her head, and stands, sliding her glasses on again. She takes two breaths before she turns, ready to bolt. Make a hole, cos any second now the Deck hand is gonna be hurrying out. Wait for it…

Ramiro then closes his eyes and exhales. Dipping his fingers in the water, he anoints himself and then rises. Turning to face the altar, he sets himself down on his knees before Greje. Swallowing hard, he takes a long moment. He doesn't raise his eyes. "Pythian Lord, I would like to know the answer to this question…" He swallows again. "What is the answer to the question in Sister Greje's heart, that she cannot ask this evening?"

Another pause. Even longer. The priest begins to waver as the fumes from the brazier begin to wane thin. But at length, the God speaks, a low grumbled reply, rumbling darkly in the stomachs of those who listen, as if the bass were turned up too high.

Bell looks up, wide eyes watching Effie bolt. The blonde Marine looks tempted to follow. But she's rather numb to be moving now. Besides, she's curious as to what Apollo'll say to that one. She goes back to *staring* at Greje.

Going quiet, Ramiro raises his eyes to Greje, repeating the answer delivered to him. "The text is a darkened mirror held to the lips of those who don't know whether they are alive or dead." He replies calmly, watching Greje closely.

Greje is not at home. There is only Apollo. And then, the questions posed and subsequently answered, the brazier burns out, and, the fumes being done, the God escapes the priest's body with a sudden slackening of her limbs, and she slumps, falling sideways off of the tripod and landing in a crumpled pile on the floor.

Springing up, Ramiro rushes over to Greje and brings forth the purified water. Crouching down beside her, he takes a moment, not knowing what to do. "Sister?" He asks, putting his arm on her shoulder over her robes, careful to not touch her skin.

Effie does not flee, something in her wishing to see the remainder of the ritual. It's nicely distracting as well, giving the blonde a moment to pull herself together. She shoves a hand into her pocket, and fishes out the granola bar. If any time were a time for shoving something into your mouth, the time is now!

Greje nnghs weakly in reply. She's alive. It takes her a moment to try to come to her senses, and she blinks her eyes forcefully a few times. "Glory to Apollo— may he bless you all," she weakly manages to complete the rite in its most abbreviated closing formula, presuming that it worked since she feels like she's been run over by a train. A train named Apollo.

"So say we all…" Ramiro replies, getting a knee underneath Greje and helping her up to a resting position. Taking the water, he offers it to her. "Water…" He says softly, letting out a relieved breath. "Sister. The text is a darkened mirror held to the lips of those who don't know whether they are alive or dead." He says to her softly.

Effie resumes a seat at the aisle, just watching Greje and Ramiro from her spot outside of the aftermath. She leans forward, arms on the back of th eseat in front of her, chin resting against her crossed arms. She considers the evening in silence.

"So say we all," murmur several others as people begin to mill their way out, speculating on the replies given by the God that evening. Greje, no longer under the restrictions of ritual purity she'd been under in preparation for the rite, lifts a hand and puts it on Dane's shoulder, helping shift herself upward as she furrows her brow, trying to make sense of the words Ramiro's saying to her. "… what?" she wonders if she's hearing correctly. She takes the bowl of water and looks down into it, murmuring a few words of thanks to the Loxian God and then taking a sip.

Ramiro looks to Effie and the others that are leaving and smiles quietly. Locking eyes with Effie finally, he nods slowly to her as if to tell her that he's happy for her in a way. Turning to Greje, he speaks to her quietly. "It's the answer to your question." He says softly.

Apollo has nothing on Dane for talking in riddles, and Greje just shakes her head, confused at his reply, "I didn't… I…" she trails off, rolling the answer around in her mind and seeing if she can make it fit into any sort of context. "Did…?"

Effie blinks a little as Ramiro looks up from what he's doing, namely making sure the priestess is alive, to look to her. She takes it as indication everything is as it should be, and she nods back. She straightens, sitting back in her seat. "Ok then," she murmurs, entirely to herself. Though she didn't know she had a question when she came to the Chapel today, one has been answered for her. She rises, after a moment, and quietly makes her way to the hatch, gnawing on a granola bar. Crinkle.

"I didn't ask a question for myself. I asked a question for you." Ramiro says quietly, letting Greje get the water back into her system. Running a hand through his damp hair, he lets out a cleansing sigh and shakes the frustration from his itching right shoulder. He turns to watch Effie leave, frowning a little at her body language. He makes a mental note.

Greje sits in quiet, staring back at the altar and then at Effie as she goes, her face too tired to smile or make much expression at all, her mind too tired to try to puzzle out the riddle or even feel much in reply to Dane's most gracious gesture on her behalf. "We… you ought to write out the questions and answers. We should keep them on file." Her voice is sort of dead and a little wheazy, her head spinning. "I… thank you. For everything. I couldn't have done this without you."

Effie slips out, and turns her feet toward the Deck. Though she's off duty, the Crewman has a mind to disassemble an engine. Some viper's about to get gutted.

"Anytime, Sister…" Ramiro replies. "Anytime."

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