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.
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no subject
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?
no subject
How did you know that?
no subject
Uh. Would you believe me if I said I read about it? Ages ago.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
I wouldn't believe everything you read.
no subject
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.
no subject
( 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.
no subject
Here, Clark has been the only thing that’s given him hope. Not the simple sort that comes with surviving and making it from the day to day, the honest kind of hope that actually makes everything worth the energy put into it. Maybe it’s because his past is meaningless here, no one is the wiser, and the Red Book may as well be a fairy tale. Regardless, Bucky knows that Clark’s efforts are hardly fruitless, especially if it has already had such an affect on Bucky without the other man realizing it. And none of that came from Clark’s powers. That was all heart.
His head dips a bit, that casual front of a ego slipping back into something far more earnest as he offers a faint, sincere smile.] I think you’re more impactful than you realize. Not a lot of people would even try for me. Not that I’d blame them.
no subject
. . . I've been on that side. I know that there are a lot of people who wouldn't do the same for me either. If I met someone - like me. Like you. How could I not?
no subject
But that’s why it’s so important that someone shows those people the right way to be, y’know? Lead by example. So long as you don’t forget who you are, anyway.
[Because he knows all too well what happens when someone loses sight of who they were and becomes what everyone expects them to be. There’s no joy in living if it’s only for others, he thinks, though he dismisses the notion with regard to himself.]
no subject
[ He had been so muddled by everyone's opinions. ]
Who do you want to be?