The Swarm: Stay

[atlasmods]

Who: These Interlopers
When: IC Day 5.5-6
Where: The Boneyard
What: The Swarm Event

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.
OOC	IC Days 5.5 - 6 (Oct 26th - 28th)
This log starts during the afternoon of IC day 5.5 and continues on until the morning of day 6 (with the rest of that day being the aftermath/conclusion). There will be a time-sensitive event which will run for 24 hours starting on the 27th at 8:00AM EST. It will conclude on the 28th at 8:00AM EST. This time-sensitive event cannot be "failed" by running out of time and will affect the lore of the game. Please direct any and all questions about this event here.

Comments

[ceruleo]

Well no, but...

[ Clark's right. People make bad choices when they're scared—Lance would know. ]

You're a good guy. I'm sure anybody would figure it out if they just gave you a chance.

[anewhope]

I try not to linger.

[ His expression is wry. ] Being an alien and all that.

[ceruleo]

Hey, you're not a Galra. You can't be that bad. Plus...you really do look human. That's gotta count for something, doesn't it?

[ You never did answer why you look human tbh. ]

[anewhope]

I don't know if it does. I've never looked human to the people of Earth. Too strong, too fast, too powerful for their peace of mind.

[ He shrugs loosely, a strange motion for Clark who holds himself close and limits himself. ]

[ceruleo]

[ He remembers having this conversation with Ahsoka not long ago: what he'd said was the farther away humans are from space travel and the Galra, the happier I'll be. He'd meant it, too, knowing what he does now about what's out there—but then he thinks of species like Clark's, who were ostensibly out to kill humans, but comprised individuals like Clark himself. ]

Why do you protect them, if they hate you so much?

[anewhope]

[ He's quiet. The sun beats down on him, but Clark has never felt its oppressive heat. For him, the sun was his strength, his power.

Be their monument. Be their angel, his mother had said, Or be none of it. You don't owe the world a damn thing.

But he did. Clark owed the world. He owed them for giving him his quiet birthdays on the farm. His prize at the Science Fair. His father's love as he held Clark close and said, you are my son. ]

Because I am human.

I'm human when I go to work on my bicycle. Or when I bring flowers to my girlfriend. I'm human when I call my mother in the night, looking for answers.

I'm human because I am part of their experience. And they're part of mine. They may not want to share that world with me, but I can share mine with them.

You . . . and people like you are my world.

[ceruleo]

[ Images flash into his mind as Clark talks, of telephone cables overhead and rusty bicycles on sandy backstreets and bougainvillea spilling out of windows. For one brief shining moment, he feels like he might be back on Earth, like he could run home and hold his mother in his arms, bask in the love of his family. And when Clark talks about his own life, Lance can't help but feel a burning pang of frustration, that anyone should have rejected this kind of goodness. ]

You don't—[ He's choked up, face screwed up, cheeks and nose burning red. ]—you don't even know me.

[ Still, the protest is weak. He's never been so acknowledged, never felt so intensely the focus of someone's consideration, and he bends into Clark's space, trying and failing to find stillness, to calm his quivering shoulders with deep breaths. ]

[anewhope]

[ Gently, he cups Lance's face, his fingers warm and solid but always tentative. Clark gives choices and personal space is always a choice he gives others as well, making sure that his gestures are never overbearing. ]

I know you like I know myself. And I know you'll be better.

[ceruleo]

[ Lance's hands lift to curl around Clark's wrists, not to push him off but just seeking stability. His chest swells with longing, with the want to become who Clark thinks he can be, and yet struggling against the knowledge that he's so, so far from that. ]

I--okay. [ Because what else can he say to that? How else can he respond to that kind of expectation? You'll be better. He thinks of Shiro, his idol, of trying and failing to make his place, of acting confident when he doesn't feel confident. ] I'll try.

[ He breathes out, shakily, eyes full of water despite his best efforts. He lets his head tip forward until his forehead bumps against Clark's chest, letting the tension in his shoulders drain out. ]

Thanks.

[anewhope]

[ He keeps his hands together, a steady weight against the foreign background they find themselves in. Clark can understand loneliness and homesickness, like a second skin that he cloaks himself in. He feels the pressure of belief too (the hope that Clark will change the world), but he also knows the beauty of it, of someone who can see you for more instead of less. ]

Then try. It will show the best in you.

[ceruleo]

[ It's a long moment before he's calm again, and he manages to swallow thickly. ]

I dunno. [ His nose wrinkles. He doesn't look at Clark when he speaks. ] I'm just some kid who wanted to fly, you know?

[ Clark's the kid that actually could. ]

[anewhope]

[ Clark shakes his head. ]

Not everyone wants to fly. Or tries to. No one knows what they're capable of until they walk into the sun. It's something we all have to do. Even me.

[ceruleo]

[ He thinks of Blue. Thinks of seeing her for the first time in that cave, that indescribable feeling of safety and belonging, of knowing exactly where he was meant to be. ]

Everyone should want to fly. Flying's awesome. [ He smiles, even though it's shaky. He's recovering from all the emotion. ] But...I get it.

[anewhope]

It's definitely worth it.

[ Clark remembers his first flight, even when it involved crashing into mountains. But once he got the momentum right - everything was perfect. The howl of the wind in his ears, the freedom to speed through the world and think, this is what I can do and it was beautiful. ]

[ceruleo]

[ Lance laughs softly, because the expression on Clark's face is one he knows intimately, remembering the rush of flight, engine humming, controls alight under his fingers, Blue's roar making his soul quake. ]

Yeah.

[ He disengages, feeling much better for the memory, grinning outright up at Clark. ]

You're pretty good at this, you know?

[anewhope]

[ He smiles softly, his teeth showing. He's not but he won't belay the point. ]

I'm working on it. Like you are.

[ceruleo]

[ Lance ducks his head, flustered again, and spots his wrist communicator in the movement. Suddenly, he's looking back up sharply, eyes wide. ]

Quiznak! Before I forget—did you get one of those strange messages, too?

[anewhope]

[ He blinks quizzically. ]

I did. My suit translates parts of it for me.

[ceruleo]

Only parts? [ Better than nothing. Still a little disappointing. ] I got two messages. We should probably check 'em out...

[ If he can even get his communicator to work. ]

[anewhope]

It might not help us much . . . but every little bit counts. Can you replay them?

[ceruleo]

Maybe? I haven't tried yet.

[ He lifts his wrist between them, and with some fiddling, manages to play back his two communications. ]

[anewhope]

[ Now those sound interesting. His brow furrows. ]

Atlas detected. And something about a Kharas section.

[ceruleo]

[ Lance sighs. ] Well, these are useful.

[ Not. Still. ]

'Atlas detected', huh? Maybe we're not on such a wild goose chase, after all.

[anewhope]

Atlas . . .

[ On a whim, he looks at the symbol on their suits. ] I wonder if we're a part of Atlas.

[ceruleo]

But if we're a part of it, why do we have to find it?

[ He frowns, tilting his head. ]

What do you think Atlas is?