THE SWARM: STAY
PRELUDE.
Five days have passed since you, The First, woke on the strange and barren planet of Kharas. Four days since the pods housing you exploded when tampered with, and Three since the strange Trilobite-like sand crabs began hesitantly crawling their way into and around the boneyard. At first there was only a few brave specimens to be found, keeping mostly to the shadows and scuttling this way and that. Now, however, at least a hundred of them can be found in and around the boneyard in various placed, commonly grouped together in batches of two or three, sometimes even four.
Notably they do not interact much with one another despite their groups and are much more interested in scouting out their surroundings for fibrous materials. On the odd chance that they manage to obtain any scraps they will begin to wander back towards the tracks your
counterparts began following earlier. Odd, isn't it?
As the softer morning sun overhead slowly begins to heat up with the encroaching afternoon more of the Trilobites begin to fill the area. Only unlike their predecessors these ones do not wander around aimlessly, and instead beeline their way to any Coral stalks that remain in the area. They bury into the sand beneath them to avoid their harsh shells and attack the roots until they topple and collapse under their own weight. Once this happens they practically swarm, working to segment it into pieces with their mandibles. When the Coral's shell cracks the Trilobites pry all vegetable matter from within and begin dragging it into the desert.
And that's not all: these new Trilobites seem
much braver and more interested in you than their predecessors. They will openly wander up to characters and gnaw uselessly at their ankles or feet, chittering and chattering. If enough of them happen to get together around an individual they will form a tiny ankle-gnawing mob intent on clambering all over you.
As the daily eclipse nears their numbers will begin to grow even further. Odd tremors can be felt beneath the ground, even in spite of all the sand, but characters won't get much of a chance to look into the matter before their wrist communicators begin to emit that same strange static from the mist.
...Only there's none to be seen in
any direction whatsoever.
![[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}
no subject
[ Maybe not literally, but that's what it feels like right now to him right now during his planet. This is how he's going to die, hundreds upon hundreds of legs crawling all over him, pincers turning his body numb until he can't move a damn muscle. ]
no subject
[ He can tell, with rising frustration, that Inui is tensing up. In the moonlight, Inui's expression is glassy and chilled. If Shiro were here, Lance tells himself, he'd know exactly what to do. Lance can only keep pulling, and pray to whatever saints can hear him that they make it through this. ]
no subject