Eva's presence was the biggest comfort to Ronan, as the Irishman felt that her positive... everything very much counteracted the ghoulish behavior of the man in black. When her words wafted over him, he remained generally unsurprised. With all that had happened over the past year, could he even consider this the strangest occurrence? No, no he couldn't. "Should probably get familiar with the place." Ronan joked while he did exactly what Eva instructed, his body tensed because his higher brain functions literally had to force his muscles to act. His mind pushed through the fear, he'd have likened it to the first time someone got in line for a roller coaster or a plane ride.
When Brian appeared and began the technical side of the operation, Ronan again felt a wave of relief pass over his form, though this sensation would go unspoken and unknown to the British man, who could not ever learn he'd comforted Mars in any way. "Feel like yer gettin' yer wish, Braddock." Translation: Thanks, Brian.
Troy had winked at the Russian... just before a ritual meant to condemn a man's soul to the underworld - in a room covered in fresh blood. What a cutie... Illyana smiled and only squirmed a bit - then noticed her new formed tail had mindlessly waved back to the Native. She fought the urge to be embarrassed... mostly because her tail hardly seemed out of place here.
Nate had merely watched when Eva explained, in her own gentle but concise way. It gave the warlock pause, perhaps if he adopted a bit of her bedside manner... nevermind. Nate had quickly shut down that line of thought before it traveled too far. Eva was remarkable because she was able to muster that amount of caring and compassion. Nate was remarkable for other reasons. "I'll begin by hypnotizing you," Nate told the Irishman, whose head was nearest his triangle of the formation.
"Oh, okay." Ronan snapped back with enough Irish sarcasm to cause Kiernan to fall down somewhere. "Parlor tricks then?" He followed it up, eyes pointed toward the ceiling and lips curved into a smirk. "Suppose you'll find a quarter behind Jimmy's ear and saw Troy in half next..."
"Ronan, look into my eyes," Nate instructed, Caltrops' face hovered above Ronan's - mostly to shut the Irishman up. "Focus and tell me what you see..."
"I see a..." Ronan had begun then trailed off before he'd gotten to the best bits about Nate's crooked face. "What was I..." This room seemed nice, he thought to himself.
"Good." Nate straightened his spine and gestured for the others to move closer. He held out his hands and silently instructed the group to join in a circle around their victim.
"Isn't he going to be like... tortured and thrown in a lake of fire?" Jimmy chimed in, only slightly worried about the fate of Ronan's soul. "I mean... it's hell, right?"
Nate signed, "You're thinking of a Christian Hell, which doesn't really exist." Caltrops shot back with annoyance clear in his voice.
"Okay, but I didn't believe in Asgard a couple years ago and here we are so..." Jimmy answered and returned Nate's attitude bomb.
"We aren't sending him to biblical Hell, Jimmy." Nate confirmed, "though... he might get tortured." He added as an afterthought. Caltrops noted that didn't seem to stop Warpath's participation. "The spell, as I explained it," Nate instructed the group and then started to recite the ancient Asgardian words under his breath.
Ronan's mind had remained blank, peaceful even, for sometime. He couldn't remember exactly how long or what he'd even been thinking about. But when the Irishman awoke, the infirmary was gone. Eva, Brian, and the others were a distant recollection. The soft bed replaced by stone and jagged rocks beneath his back. He shifted uncomfortably and felt an odd numbness throughout his body. Until he remembered it wasn't his body... his body was still in Asgard, hopefully. His new surrounds were pitch black, a light seemed as though it would have suffocated here. Or he'd have guessed until he sat up and noticed a small fire which burnt in the distance. "Well, you did it now, Ronan," Mars told himself in a whisper. "Ye went and got yerself sent to hell."