[So, aliens are cool. Lance is much more used to aliens than he ever thought he could be, so their presence is a curiosity more than anything else, and it doesn't both him other than prompting his usual wariness about an unpredictable situation.
However, he's aware that isn't the case for everyone, and there's definitely someone in particular he's concerned about. So it isn't long after the Thessyx's first arrival that he goes looking for Ian, hoping he might find him before he notices their new visitors but knowing that's probably unlikely.]
( Yeah, unfortunately not so lucky, Lance. Ian's definitely seen them, and he definitely almost shit himself, and he definitely peeled the hell away as soon as he could get his bearings. He's not hard to find, he's holed up in his Safe Place — the engineering corps, sitting at his workbench with a bouncing leg and a pen in hand that isn't actually drawing or writing anything. It's a rough day in the life of Fowler when he's got anxious energy in an unsettled limb even after having a drown-the-anxiety shot or two.
He so focused on what he's not writing, if Lance says something or appears too suddenly it'll startle the everloving shit out of him. )
[Yeah he can tell right away by that posture that Ian's already seen the visitors, and that he's not paying much attention to the world around him. Unfortunately, Lance's usual way of approaching someone who might be startled is to talk instead of getting close, so that might end up backfiring in his attempt not to surprise Ian. He does get within normal speaking distance though, mostly because he keeps his voice soft.]
( Why, whatever do you mean, Lancelot? Have a nice belated sup nod, and the most stock-standard half-smile anyone has ever given anyone in the history of ever. It looks perfectly passable, provided you haven't known him for more than six months. )
[The part of Lance that's so incredibly competitive makes it difficult to resist the urge to declare and then prove that he's a way better liar if he wants to be, but he's thankfully self-aware enough to cut that off. That's not the point right now. He can just win a bet later or something like he did when Nate doubted him.
Right now, they have a different issue, and he's not going to let them get distracted from it.]
Maybe to someone else.
[He steps over to the workbench, giving Ian space while still being able to pick up some gadget and begin looking it over.]
( Add that to their list of lowkey impending competitions - a lie-off. Odds are probably favoring Lance on this one. Only one person could be a suitable judge, really. Table it for later.
He sighs, rubbing his forefinger and thumb back and forth across either eyebrow with the same hand holding the pen; it juts out from beneath his knuckle into the open air. )
You mean the, uh... giant fucking aliens? Yeah, no, I... I saw those, yeah. They seem...
( Humanoid. Sentient. Like they have the home-field advantage. Like they have an ulterior motive. )
Lance keeps his eyes on the object he's turning over his hands, but he's watching Ian's body language out of his peripheral vision all the same as he asks mildly--]
Yeah, no it's... great. Friendly is a great thing. It's really... good.
( He nods as he speaks, voice light, eyes trailing back over to his workbench like he's preoccupied with the whole lot of nothing he was doing when Lance spooked him.
It really is good. God knows how he'd handle it if that weren't the case, if they wound up engaging in war with these things. They seem peaceful, he knows, and there were a dozen people back in New Amsterdam that weren't from earth. Technically alien, it's just...
They looked human.
He's trying not to be xenophobic.
But.
They're fucking aliens. Very, extremely, obviously aliens. Aliens with the home field advantage, and who can apparently enter your dreams and leave marks on your chest. )
[Incredibly convincing. Amazing. Definitely casual and nothing wrong here.
Lance concentrates a moment, and the object he's holding lights up a soft seafoam green color; it's both an extension of fidgeting and to give a small distraction for Ian to focus on, while Lance pries a little more.]
Better than the alternative, sure, though it's difficult to say what their actual intentions are.
[So if Ian's worried about that, or just otherwise wants to saying anything not delightedly welcoming of the visitors, hopefully that's enough of an open door.]
( He picks up immediately, wheeling around with the most mild, chilled-out version of conviction anyone ever saw. Totally belies the fact that he's been thinking on this with some depth or regularity. )
I don't think they're being particularly subtle about having ulterior motives. Plus, I mean, I think those are the things that visited people in their sleep. They left, like, a mark on people's bodies. I don't know, man, anything that gets in your head and marks you without permission at least doesn't have a sense of boundaries, who knows what else they consider on the safe side of the line?
I mean they were-- apparently, like... showing up in people's dreams, and they'd kind of... touch them on the chest and leave a mark behind. Not- don't get the wrong idea, I wasn't being... creepy, but you can see it on some people's chests in the showers.
( Once was unremarkable. Twice could be coincidence. The third one...
[Lance scrunches his nose a little at the story--and at the reminder of the lack of privacy here, he sure loves that--but okay, that's weird, though not unheard of. Of course it's something that would've been totally unheard of for him three years ago, but things change.]
( He murmurs, and it sounds a little bit deescalated. There's an unspoken thank god written in there. He's already high strung enough, no need to add that to the list. )
No mark on Nate either. I'm not really sure how they picked who they picked, but... The point is, they picked them. What exactly do they plan on doing with the ones they singled out?
[Hm. He frowns a little in thought, remembering how the gods in Hadriel didn't always affect everyone with their actions, and how it had felt almost random; he wonders if it really was, and if that is--or isn't--the case here. There's probably some reason to it, because there almost always is.]
I don't know, but it sounds like they have some particular interest in at least some of us, and it would be best to figure out why.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
backdated to right after aliens showed up w/e
However, he's aware that isn't the case for everyone, and there's definitely someone in particular he's concerned about. So it isn't long after the Thessyx's first arrival that he goes looking for Ian, hoping he might find him before he notices their new visitors but knowing that's probably unlikely.]
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He so focused on what he's not writing, if Lance says something or appears too suddenly it'll startle the everloving shit out of him. )
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Ian?
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Fuck.
( Jesus, okay, get it together, man. He huffs an exhale, then immediately rolls into playing it off with a slightly breathy; )
Hey, man.
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Sorry, I was trying not to surprise you.
[He says it with a faint hint of humor, because obviously that didn't go well. And speaking of things not going well--]
I'd ask how you're doing, but...
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I'm good, man. How are you?
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Great. I think I'm acclimating to the hammock lifestyle.
[He absolutely is not but if they're going to obviously lie about things...]
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He pulls an almost-identical face. This is, he imagines, what older siblings feel when younger siblings do annoying shit. )
At least mine was believable.
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Right now, they have a different issue, and he's not going to let them get distracted from it.]
Maybe to someone else.
[He steps over to the workbench, giving Ian space while still being able to pick up some gadget and begin looking it over.]
I presume you've seen our guests.
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He sighs, rubbing his forefinger and thumb back and forth across either eyebrow with the same hand holding the pen; it juts out from beneath his knuckle into the open air. )
You mean the, uh... giant fucking aliens? Yeah, no, I... I saw those, yeah. They seem...
( Humanoid. Sentient. Like they have the home-field advantage. Like they have an ulterior motive. )
Friendly.
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Lance keeps his eyes on the object he's turning over his hands, but he's watching Ian's body language out of his peripheral vision all the same as he asks mildly--]
Isn't friendly a good thing?
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( He nods as he speaks, voice light, eyes trailing back over to his workbench like he's preoccupied with the whole lot of nothing he was doing when Lance spooked him.
It really is good. God knows how he'd handle it if that weren't the case, if they wound up engaging in war with these things. They seem peaceful, he knows, and there were a dozen people back in New Amsterdam that weren't from earth. Technically alien, it's just...
They looked human.
He's trying not to be xenophobic.
But.
They're fucking aliens. Very, extremely, obviously aliens. Aliens with the home field advantage, and who can apparently enter your dreams and leave marks on your chest. )
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Lance concentrates a moment, and the object he's holding lights up a soft seafoam green color; it's both an extension of fidgeting and to give a small distraction for Ian to focus on, while Lance pries a little more.]
Better than the alternative, sure, though it's difficult to say what their actual intentions are.
[So if Ian's worried about that, or just otherwise wants to saying anything not delightedly welcoming of the visitors, hopefully that's enough of an open door.]
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( He picks up immediately, wheeling around with the most mild, chilled-out version of conviction anyone ever saw. Totally belies the fact that he's been thinking on this with some depth or regularity. )
I don't think they're being particularly subtle about having ulterior motives. Plus, I mean, I think those are the things that visited people in their sleep. They left, like, a mark on people's bodies. I don't know, man, anything that gets in your head and marks you without permission at least doesn't have a sense of boundaries, who knows what else they consider on the safe side of the line?
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What do you mean about visiting in dreams and leaving a mark?
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( Once was unremarkable. Twice could be coincidence. The third one...
He had to ask, and he got the story. )
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Did you have one of those dreams yourself?
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( He murmurs, and it sounds a little bit deescalated. There's an unspoken thank god written in there. He's already high strung enough, no need to add that to the list. )
No mark on Nate either. I'm not really sure how they picked who they picked, but... The point is, they picked them. What exactly do they plan on doing with the ones they singled out?
my brain is mush omg I'm sorry for the delay
I don't know, but it sounds like they have some particular interest in at least some of us, and it would be best to figure out why.