The Mark of the Atlas

[atlasmods]

THE MARK OF THE ATLAS Into the heart of the city you go. Down below the lowest levels of the city, somewhere beyond the twisty maze of passages, several of the paths converge in a huge underground cavern. Here the air is blissfully cool compared to the desert above. A single shaft of light shines down from somewhere on the surface; motes of sand drift lazily as if suspended in the light. Elsewhere, the cave is lit by small clusters of glowing fungus that live off the moisture collected down here. Dim but navigable for most. But perhaps the most striking items in the area are the monoliths. Great fragments of stone over three meters long, too smooth to be natural but too jagged to be whole either. Several of them glow from the pulse of energy running through them. Others, while dark, have recessed notches large enough for a person’s hand. And still another group seems nearly shattered, a larger fragment surrounded by smaller ones. All of them react when the interlopers draw close enough... LIGHT Upon closer inspection, the lit monoliths have a curious pattern worked into the tone. The symbols are rather arcane, but perhaps they make sense if one tilts one’s head and squints. This one has strokes that resemble tongues of flame. That one is covered in cascading, fluid lines. Another … well, that look more like a warning sign than anything else. Interacting with these monoliths results in a warning crackle and the scent of ozone before the monolith opens. Something comes pouring out of it in response. Gushing water is the most common, matching up with the cascade monoliths; others open to flame or greenery or other odd things. And one definitely opens up into a vacuum. Careful with that unless you want to have something sucked out into space. Whatever connection they make is brief and non-traversable, but whatever comes through stays on this side. DARK The unlit monoliths aren’t nearly as flashy as their glowing brethren, but they have their own stories to tell. With the help of a little light (and the suit), the interlopers will find that these monoliths are covered from top to bottom in alien script. Most have at least one solid crack or chunk in them - at the juiciest parts! - but there may be enough left to be intelligible, given a little luck. VISION The last set hum with an ominous energy that belies their dilapidated appearance. Interlopers who approach these monoliths trigger strange images that float in the air. No two visions are alike, though they all share common themes. Silhouettes descending to the surface of the planet and spreading out across it. Exploring and interacting with an alien environment. There’s something deeply familiar about these shadows despite the variety of body types represented by them. The shape of their clothing is reminiscent of your own suit... Other snippets are set in space. Here the silhouettes are a darker patch of black against the darkness of space. The mood in these images is strangely pensive, somewhat tense. These figures are searching very desperately for something. There is one, though, that’s different from all the others. No silhouettes, no searching, no space. Only a shaft of light starting from a point beyond this planet’s moon. At first it’s a too-bright star; then, a solid beam stretching down to the planet itself. The light increases in intensity and breadth exponentially until it impacts physically with the surface of the planet itself. The eruption kicks up huge clouds of dust that race towards the city with all the heat and speed of a pyroclastic explosion. It rises up like a wave...and then crashes down, burying the city. Eventually, each of the images go dark once again. BROKEN Amidst the myriad of strange monoliths and now-flowing water? Is some sort of chassis. The ruined frame of an old robot of some kind, easily as large as a cement mixer's chamber and just as tall. Most of it lies buried beneath the sand, stuck near the far end of one particularly large chamber within the caves' network. It takes a bit of walking to get there, but there's a reward to be had for those who find it: The room is not empty. Standing in the exact middle is a strange, hulking figure. It stands at eight feet at least, a massive frame encased in black. Whether it's carapace or suit is impossible to tell, and whether or not it's alive is another story altogether. It stands perfectly motionless, skull-like face staring ahead at the robot's husk as water pools in through cracks and recesses, giving the ground a glass-like appearance through which tiny grass-like eels can be seen rising from tiny holes in the sand. For all intents and purposes the figure seems nothing more than a statue. Eerie. OOC There will be an 24-hour event encounter which runs from Nov 26th at 8:00am EST to Nov 27th at 8:00am EST. Feel free to let characters toy around & thread in the innermost areas of the city before the main event! Sections will go up in this entry and will be linked here when they are ready.

Comments

[anewhope]

[ Clark immediately bottles down his instinctive response to that. I don't get hurt. It is no longer the truth as recent events have demonstrated he can be hurt and no matter where he goes, certain hurts are bound to follow. Power and fear follows Clark's footsteps as he tries to move closer to the dream his parents had; to help, to lead, to show that he can be their hero.

He's fallen short of that. But that doesn't mean he's ready to stop. ]

Some hurts are worth the experience. They're worth the trouble, the bruises and the difficulties. But they're also worth getting up in the morning.

[ His death was worth the world he lost. Because Lois was still in it. ]

Sometimes you do. I have. But that doesn't mean I'll make that decision today.

[lefthandfree]

[With the punctuation of the last word, he looks up, gaze meeting Clark’s again. There’s something so different about the way Clark frames it that he needs a moment to run it through his head a few more times. Another moment and the gears click in place.

He laughs quietly in moderate disbelief.]

Not today, huh? [A smile breaks out, a real one that feels like his face might split in half.] You’re really something, Clark. [He nods with the remark and lets the smile fade.]

Yeah. Not today. [He tells himself this time, and suddenly it’s not so hard remembering who Bucky is.

But all of this isn't what he came over for. He makes a quiet sheepish noise and tries to activate his communicator with his chin again.]

Uh. There’s another message too. [A small beep follows. The first one plays again. Bucky makes a face and tries again.] Well, if I can get it to play for you...

[Another replay. But after the third, it decides to cooperate.]

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[anewhope]

[ Clark listens quietly before speaking up. ]

Something about . . . power being offline. And panels.

[lefthandfree]

Panels? Like solar panels? [He tries to think of anything like that having been around with the new tech, but nothing directly springs to mind as being similar.

He huffs quietly after a moment in defeat.]

I thought I'd be okay with just knowing bits of it, but now it just makes me even more curious about what the hell is going on here. [Which he says mostly to himself, so after a breath,] Thanks for giving it a shot for me anyway though, Superman. Sorry that they weren't more useful.

[anewhope]

[ Clark blanches a little at the name. Superman. He never felt he fully stepped into it. The name had been Lois' idea, not his.

Carefully, he moves away from that. ]

It might mean control panels. This ability is . . . improving. The more I hear, the more fine-tuned it becomes.

[lefthandfree]

[That's...not the reaction Bucky expects when tacking on the silly nickname. He files the information away for later and removes Superman from the list names to call Clark.]

Well, there've been lots of those around, but it ain't like any of ’em really work as it is.

Does it help if it's repeated? Or does it need to be a new clip entirely?

[anewhope]

I don't think the repetition makes a difference. It's probably the influx of new words that forces the technology to react.

[ He's guessing but it's an intuitive guess. ]

[lefthandfree]

Too bad I can't just try making up words for ya and seeing if that works. [And he grins at that because, hell, if that worked? It'd be genius. He's already tried saying another language and realized that he can't remember what parts are actually another language or not though, which is crazy enough on its own but probably not worth mentioning since his language skills aren't useful unless he can make sense what makes the languages in his head different when he tries to use them. Oddly enough, it's like they aren't even really there anymore.]

Guess we'll just have to hope something else comes up.

[anewhope]

[ A faint smile appears, full of genuine humor. ]

That would be more convenient. But we're not doing too badly. Considering we can make some of it clear is a decent start.

[lefthandfree]

That's true! Definitely better for us to have pieces than nothing at all, eh, Clarky? [Nope.] C-guy? [Nah.] Clark-o-clock?

[Eh. Passible.]

[anewhope]

[ His grin splits his face as he chuckles. ]

Don't strain yourself.

[lefthandfree]

[He laughs himself and gives a slight shrug as he beams.]

Slow day today. I’ll try think of something better for ya.

[He gives Clark a friendly nudge with his arm.]

Now, I don’t suppose you could teach me how to do that flying thing you do, can you?

[anewhope]

[ The nudge doesn't register, but Clark acts like it does, shifting his arm away. He's had a lot of practice in faking it. ]

I don't think if you'd want me as a teacher. I crashed into a mountain the first time I flew.

[lefthandfree]

Oh. Really? [He laughs in surprise.]

I mean, I guess I probably wouldn’t be much better the first time. You gotta start somewhere, right? And anyhow, I ain’t seen you careen into anything quite yet, so it’s not like you didn’t get a lot better at it.

[anewhope]

[ Clark nods, his expression thoughtful. ]

I had to get a lot better at it. I am more at peace with my powers, but I don't think I fully enjoy them.

[ He pauses and amends. ] Except for flying. That's still perfect.

[lefthandfree]

[Bucky makes a quiet noise of approval.] Well, it’s good to hear that flying is exactly all it’s cut out to be.

What other powers you got though? I mean. I don’t know many people who have what I’d call “powers”, so. Please enlighten me.

[anewhope]

[ His carefree expression slips a bit. ]

I rather not. But . . . most people have already seen that I have enhanced strength, vision and speed. Along with heat vision.

[lefthandfree]

[Well, good job ruining the mood, Barnes. You and your damn curiosity...]

Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—

...

Wait, did you say heat vision? [He only knows that phrase from one thing, so it sticks out like a sore thumb.] Do you maybe know how to see through walls and stuff too?

[anewhope]

[ His brows crossed together. How would he know that? Clark doubts Lance has told other people about his x-ray vision. ]

How did you know that?

[lefthandfree]

[Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.]

Uh. Would you believe me if I said I read about it? Ages ago.

[anewhope]

I wouldn't find it very believable.

[ But there are different realities. Different worlds. Kara's existence proves that. Unease still filters in his expression, but Clark doesn't take it out on Bucky. ]

I try not to let people know what I can do. What I'm capable of.

[lefthandfree]

[Admittedly, it’s probably not so believable, especially if this really is Clark Kent like he thinks it is. In Clark’s world, it’d be a big deal to connect the dots between Clark Kent and Superman. But it’s the truth for Bucky. He has some difficulty trying to figure out the best way to word his reply.]

Well. Yeah. ’Cause you have that whole secret identity thing, right? [Not that acknowledging it might help so directly with the situation, but acknowledging it also means that Bucky understands the sensitivity of the information.] I won’t tell anyone. For whatever it’s worth. I mean, I wasn’t trying to freak you out or anything either with asking, it’s just...

[He takes a breath. May as well just. Get it over with.]

Back where I’m from, you’re sorta more fictional? In comics and on the wireless, I mean. And not like a real guy. I guess that probably sounds even crazier, but, uh, hell, I think it’s pretty crazy meeting you in person too. Erm. You always seemed like a really swell guy, so, y’know, it’s kinda a real honor having made your acquaintance too. [He tacks the end on quite sheepishly, looking to the side and rubbing the back of his neck.]

[anewhope]

[ Clark watches him warily. Bucky's ramblings and his heart-beat seems to confirm his words, but Clark still feels strange. He's never sure what to make of people who have certain impressions of him. Even the positive kind. Clark doesn't want to be a God or a hero (or an illegal alien, a walking threat) ]

I wouldn't believe everything you read.

[lefthandfree]

[He draws in his lower lip into his mouth with his tongue as he gives a faint snort and nods pensively. He knows not to trust what you read better than anyone. Not long ago, the papers were saying he bombed a civil conference. Top it off with the fact that some part of him still thinks of Superman as the fiction he knew, he can’t very well make the one-to-one correlation in his mind either. How does one even reconcile such a fact? Something that is unreal, beyond the notion of possibly existing in what he considered the real world, being something very much tangible now in front of him?

If he had to imagine the guy in the comics coming to life, standing in front of him and talking to him, he doesn’t think he would have imagined the person in front of him now, especially as someone who would remotely trust him. He’s done too much wrong. Superman would probably turn him in, knowing the threat he poses so long as the Red Book exists. Wouldn’t that mean Clark should do the same?

He sighs.]

I don't. [He looks up to look at Clark again, solemnly. The only Clark that matters is the one right in front of him now. Not the stories or the hero. The person who believes in him without even knowing him.]

But I don’t need to to know that you have a good heart.

[anewhope]

[ Clark purses his lips, conflicted. He does not believe, in any shape or form, that he is a bad person. He died for humanity, for people who held up signs and protested his existence. And . . . they weren't all wrong. They were scared. They were lost. Even Lex was pitiful in his own way. Even when Lex Luthor had a hand in his demise, Clark found him hard to judge

( except when it came to his mother )

But taking in Bucky's expression, Clark softens, looking warmer, more real around the edges. He isn't Superman. Superman is him, even the parts that no one sees. ]

It's more that I bring a power imbalance to the world. I make them question. Wonder. My parents . . . my birth parents wanted me to bring hope.

I try. It may never be enough. But . . . I try. And I'll try for you.