unfinishedlibrary | I'm not saying that it's aliens

Entry tags:

I'm not saying that it's aliens - TAKE A LOAD OFF, LOG 2

Who: Readers and Actors
What: Beta Story final log
When: November 28 - December 11
Where: Woodhurst (UK) and the SS Radiance (in space!), 2019
Content warnings: Please tag warnings in comment headers!

In Woodhurst:

There is quite a bit of confusion in the village as the weeks pass by- by now it is clear that some people are very much not themselves, and there are multiple theories as to why. Aliens, obviously- the really weird bit is that it’s not just certain edgy teens purporting this theory, but since there’s been some (alleged) activity previously, maybe they’ve come back! Some tourists (and perhaps some locals) have made signs of the ‘Take me with you!’ variety, mostly loitering in the town square or in the park, whenever they get chased out of one or the other.

Suffice it to say, those people aren’t being taken seriously by those in charge- though even they have to admit that something strange is going on. Prevailing theories amongst officials are ‘gas leakage’ and ‘water contamination,’ neither of which are suitable explanations but no one seems to want to think too hard on it. As a result, the friends and families of those acting out of sorts are in a strange position. Do they try to seek medical help? Wait and hope it sorts itself out? Or do they join the crowds bidding welcome to their potential alien guests, demanding their real loved ones return?

Visitors of all stripes might find themselves a bit more scrutinized, as a result. Didn’t a bunch of weird people show up just as people seemed to start changing? Readers and aliens alike had best be on their most normal behavior, or it’s possible they’ll get cornered by someone asking what’s happening, or… a fanatic who wants to be taken up into their spaceship. Some of whom have some weird questions about probes. Good luck figuring out what that’s about.

On the IMW Group Supply Ship: Radiance

Things are not all well further up in the atmosphere, either. The staff have had to deal with much more pushback than they were expecting, including some people who seemed to not enough understand the concept of mental health (which was not in the briefing- shouldn’t they have at least heard of it before?). A few cases also seem to be quite severe, involving a level of intervention that they weren’t really prepared for- but of course, they’re here, so they’re going to do the very best they can to get all the humans the help they need! Hopefully legally.

Most alarmingly, however, it seems there have been some kidnapping attempts! …Kidnapping attempts that didn’t involve them! Someone, or multiple someones, have managed to get the patients off the ship without first filling out their discharge paperwork, and that simply will not do. As a result, security is ramped up on the ship… sort of. There’s very little in the way of a security crew, after all, and it’s not like they can call in reinforcements. So mostly this means that there are some very tired counselors who have been put on hallway shifts, and everyone has been assigned a little name badge that they MUST wear at ALL TIMES.

(There are actual people guarding the shuttles now, but again… there’s only so much security. The real question is, do you really want to beat up the aliens who are just trying to help?)

To their credit, the various Group members are trying to listen to the concerns of the patients who are here… less than willingly, and are beginning to filter some cases back to the planet by request. But they are going to do it properly, which means the proper forms. A wrap up visit with their counselor, a form agreeing to be finished with treatment, a politely worded request to maybe not tell people about the aliens (it’s not an NDA, because the Group has never needed those, it’s really just a form asking if they’re going to talk about it so management can figure out how badly this is going to go). Oh, and would you mind filling out this survey about your experience?

Of course, not everyone is in a hurry to leave- or at least needs something to do while waiting for bits of paperwork to approve. All the regular classes and sessions are still going, and they even retrofitted one of the spas to have water instead of… whatever it was before. Now certified safe for humans!

[Information on what's available on the ship is in the first log; info post is here.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. Sarcasm counts as emotional regulation

Charles was, for the moment, playing along. So far, nothing had been nearly as harrowing as his admissions in his first session with Min'a- he was generally cooperative but also unable to be serious overlong. After a not-so-casual suggestion that he try yoga, undoubtedly in an attempt to burn some of his ridiculous energy for mischief, the teen was settled on one of the mats amongst the class. Was he doing the stretch being described? Absolutely not- he'd chosen something silly and ridiculous that he'd seen in some movie or another once, pretending at serenity as he was wobbling dangerously one way then the other on one foot. That peaceful expression was ruined by one eye peeking open as he offered a grin towards another student as he barely keeps from overbalancing and eating floor.

"If you laugh at me falling, that counts as therapy progress," Said in a cheerful sort of stage whisper, Charles only straightening into the correct pose when the instructor is coming down the rows, and the second their back is turned, he's back to a silly sort of balancing act, brows screwing up in playfully exaggerated concentration. "They called this one Warrior Two, but I'm more a Slightly Startled Civilian. What about you?"

II. Don't tell the stars I'm afraid of the dark

It had been over a week now on the ship. Charles' behavior hadn't shifted especially- he still laughed and joked like nothing was wrong, got into whatever mischief he thought he could get away with, dodged gentle probing questions about feelings as well as he was able in the group sessions. He wasn't quite so evasive with Min'a but even there he was cautious about what he said now that he had a bit of a better idea what to expect.

But that didn't stop something being off. Anyone who spent time around him might notice the signs of something bothering him. More fidgety than energetic, the way he would often rub at the back of his neck, or jog a foot when left still long enough. The way his smiles edged a bit too bright, faded a bit too quickly. Laughs that shaded a bit too long. And while Charles was naturally chatty, especially when he was looking to be a bit of a menace, there was something about how he was chatting lately, as if to avoid letting silence linger too long.

Not that he was about to admit anything was wrong. No, at the moment he was settled on a console table near the wide window that showed the view of the stars and Earth, munching on some weird alien granola as he peered out at the view.

He looked nearly contemplative a moment, surely pondering some deep important thought after his last session-

“Did you know this tastes like nothing… but also slightly like everything? D'you suppose that's on purpose?”

Or not.

III. If being late counts as an art form, I’m a master

It had taken longer to get back to Earth than some of the others, Charles had noticed. Plenty who had been picked up at the same time as him, or after had gone back before he had. Min'a had assured him that he'd be let home soon enough, that they just needed to make the proper arrangements. Paperwork and the like.

By the time he was considering sneaking past 'security' and trying to figure out a shuttle, he was finally sent home, only to find... a lot had changed. His double had seemed to avoid his father well enough, and hadn't roused any suspicion in his mother- it seemed he'd spent most of his time out in Woodhurst proper when he wasn't required to be home. Safer that way, and it eased something in Charles. He still thought the aliens were ridiculous, but he didn't want the poor sod hurt because he'd been mistaken for him.

But... Paul Rowland was gone. He'd packed up a suitcase and swanned off after a shift apparently, without so much as a goodbye. His wife was devastated. Charles was... conflicted. Did what he could to comfort his mother, before giving her space to go through the motions. Calling Paul's friends, relatives, anyone she could think of who he might have spoken with before leaving, anyone she could think he'd go to stay with. But Charles was fairly certain she wouldn't find him.

Charles had a feeling that his da hadn't just left town like everyone was sure he had. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the relief that washed through him as the concept settled in, really sank in.

Normally on a day like this, when everything at home was calm and peaceful, he'd be home. Spending time with his mum. But there was a part of him that was afraid that she'd see the relief in him, would realize what had happened. Or at least that he wasn't sad about his da. Not really, not like a son should be. But then he hadn't been a proper father. But Charles didn't trust his ability to keep that emotion under wraps while his mother was still caught in that mix of emotions of her own, so he lurked around town instead. Not nearly so furtive as he sometimes was in his rambling, but there was still something uncertain in his gaze as it slid across the area, as if keeping watch. And maybe he was- it would take some time for the idea that his da was really gone to sink in properly.

Anyone who knew him would recognize that tension in him, the uncertainty to the little glances here and there when someone new moved into his field of vision, or a car rolled by.

IV. Wildcard

((Want to do something else? Feel free to poke me either at atomic_kiwi, or Atomic_Kiwi and we can plot something!))

Edited (I can count to 4!) 2025-12-01 07:49 (UTC)

"So he's really gone."

Akira Tsukuda - but you can call him Mitch, old friend - rolls up in his motorcycle, helmet under one arm.

"Do you really think he blasted off on his own, or..."

"Yup."

Something in him eased a bit seeing Mitch. And while he agreed casually, especially given they were out in the open where anyone could eavesdrop, the other teen would see something in his gaze that hinted that Charles was fairly certain that the story was a lie. Not with how insistent the aliens had been about keeping him on the ship even after it had become clear that therapy wouldn't be solving his problems.

"He was always complainin' about everything, no surprise he finally swanned off yeah?"

"Figured out getting what he wanted was impossible, I suppose," Akira said in a deeply skeptical tone of voice. "Good for him. Healthier than taking it out on other folks."

"Good riddance." Charles huffed, unable to help the flush of guilt that had him glancing around, as if seeing if anyone overheard that particular comment.

Not that anyone who lived in Woodhurst would begrudge him that sentiment at all, but... he also didn't want it getting back to his mum, about the only person in town who was actually upset that Paul was gone.

"Yes," he agrees. "It is."

And, unusually, he holds his arms out wide. The offer is implicit.

Something in him eased at the offer there. Charles tried not to make it anyone else's problem, but he was a very affectionate sort. Casual sling of an arm around shoulders, pats to the shoulder, shoulder-to-shoulder bumps, hugs when he could get away with them. It was one of the ways he showed he cared when he could, so it was likely little surprise that he was just as keen for affection back, a little half-smile on his face as he steps in to fling arms around Mitch in a tight sort of bearhug.

"I'd say mine's a Sleepy Night Watchman," grins Festival, yawning wide and arching backwards--and back and back, until his balance shifts too far and he puts his hands out over his head and behind him to land with a painful-sounding thump in something like a Reverse Bridge.

Charles can't help but burst into giggles at the sudden flop backwards, which has him wobbling precariously, one way, then the other, overbalancing and promptly going down in a heap on his own mat.

Did it startle a yelp and an even more boisterous laugh from him? Absolutely. Did he seem to mind it? Not at all.

Festival grins at Charles upside-down, still holding his pose--though this one has even him trembling a little in the arms.

"And what's that one called, then?"

He's in an awkward tangle for the moment but flashes a grin back at the other from between his arms before he's flopping onto his back to straighten out, going for a headstand instead. That? That he could manage.

"Arch Nemesis of Gravity seems like a good name to me!"

"It seems, sir, as though gravity is more your arch-nemesis than the other way around," Festival points out...for all that he finally gives up on his own awkward pose and lets himself flop onto the mat for a breather.

No laughter is forthcoming, but K does seem to consider the question as he holds the assigned pose with almost textbook precision and little apparent effort. The display might suggest a deep familiarity with yoga, while in truth he's a novice and just exceptional at imitation, and has the advantage of being in peak physical condition. Because he was manufactured that way.

"Discombobulated robot," he replies wryly after a moment. You know, because he's an android. Not that anyone else has realised that yet. And probably it's safer if they don't, but he couldn't resist some dry humour. "You look like you're having fun."

Charles, especially as he is now, a living 13 year old boy? Had no clue that the other was anything other than a particularly physically skilled man. Even if he was more himself, he'd likely not clock it overtly, as androids weren't a thing back home other than in media. Whatever the case, the dry tone earned a short laugh from him regardless, a grin flashed the man's way as he wobbled precariously on one foot as he leaned back without real concern for whether that was a well-balanced pose he was going into or not.

"Gotta get my giggles somewhere mate," He replied cheerily. Was he actually as cheerful as he sounded? Absolutely not, but this was a teen who'd had plenty of experience putting a happy face on things. Fake it 'til you make it and all that. "Pretty sure if I was all 'quiet and serene' like the teacher's hopin' for out of us I'd bust somethin' soon enough."

At least one of them is (seemingly) having a good time. And the grin is surprisingly infectious, prompting a look of amusement from K.

"I'm not entirely sure what the purpose of this is," he admits even as he's moving to copy the instructor's next pose, wondering if he looks as ridiculous as he feels. Serenity? That would be difficult to achieve while surrounded by so many humans. Then again, the ones he's encountered here have been pleasant for the most part, certainly a far cry from what he's accustomed to.

As a man-made being who will never look older than his manufactured age and is barely a few months old chronologically, K sometimes has a hard time accurately gauging human ages. This boy's attitude makes him seem even younger to the android than he actually is, which begs the question...

"They brought you up here alone?" he wonders, concern creasing his brow. "Without a parent?"

That seems curiously irresponsible for a group that's allegedly seeking to help humans.

Charles' own good time? Becomes a bit more genuine with winning amusement out of the stranger.

"Pretty sure it's some sorta inner peace thing? Like... you're focusin' too much on this to be frettin' over whatever's got you needin' it in the first place." He gave the instructor's pose a try, gamely, but wobbled something fierce before he swung his leg the other way to counterbalance with a quiet snicker.

He's not surprised by the question really. He was one of the younger humans to be brought up apparently, maybe even the youngest, though he didn't really track that. An idle shrug offered at the concerned question, something in his amusement sobering slightly.

"Yup," Confirmed easily, as he teetered, tottered, managed to stay up on one foot still. "Da's an utter prat, so not surprised really."

Understatement of the year, that was.

The intended purpose of the yoga class would be more effective, then, if he actually was the human the Group mistook him for. Because having a supercomputer for a brain meant being able to fret over a great many things simultaneously, even while the rest of him is physically engaged in an unrelated activity. And now he has an additional worry. As far as he knows humans this young should not be unattended.

He observes the boy's attempt, deciding against offering any advice. Let him have his fun where he can find it. The comment about the boy's father does nothing to dispel his concern.

"You think the Group may have intentionally left him behind then?" Just how bad might the father be if the Group thought it best to separate them? "You're just awfully young to be on your own. I haven't actually seen any other human children here." Making the boy's presence here even more unusual, in his mind. "Is there anyone taking care of you?"

"They've got some way to keep an eye on me," He commented, breezing right past the idea of his father for the moment. Because really? He was fucking awful. But that wasn't something Charles was going to talk about with a literal stranger. "Tried sneakin' off, avoidin' curfew, skippin' meals and the like, and always someone popped up to help me back to wherever I was supposed to be."

Was he especially bendy? Nope. Was that going to stop him trying to imitate one of the poses pictured on the walls that required at least one more joint in the legs and about a dozen extra vertebrae? Also nope.

"I mean... Mitch is here. And Shadow. They're both older, but they're still teenagers too."

K notes the avoidance of the subject and has to remind himself this isn't an interrogation. The kid's family is none of his business if he doesn't want to talk about it. It's good to know the Group is actively keeping an eye on him, though.

When the boy starts attempting one of the physically impossible stretches K sort of just stares in silence for a moment, eyebrows raising. He doesn't laugh, but it almost looks like he wants to.

"Those your friends?" he guesses. "I ran into someone I know here too, and he looks almost like an entirely different person now. Healthier in a way a little yoga doesn't explain." He's still puzzling over that one. The wonders of alien technology.

Nara'a just looks over at the boy and grins. He seems a lot calmer now that he's away from his home... and honestly he doesn't blame him. So he won't bring it up and instead just goes with the flow - he wants silly? He'll show the kit silly.

In answer he does a backflip and lands on his hands, lifting one up and grinning at the other. "Dunno. What would you call it? Reverse hunter? Startled cat? Maybe upside-down fool?"

Charles' eyebrows lift, and he can't help the bark of delighted laughter at the display of agility from the other. Only stifling the sound to giggles once he notices the teacher looking his way, though from the quiver of his jaw it's a herculean effort to keep a straight face.

"One-Handed Menace?" The boy offered cheerfully, even as he tried a trick of his own- and promptly fucked it up, eating mat. Not that it stopped a spate of giggles. "An' this one's Look Ma, No Balance!"

He chuckles and easily lands on his feet, stepping off of his mat and going to help the boy up. "Excellent, I'm glad we've established that one."

His tail would be swishing if he had it here, but alas... "Here, let's get you back up before the lecturer notices."

The 'lecturer' has already noticed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not saying that it's aliens - TAKE A LOAD OFF, LOG 2

Charles Rowland | Actor

III (we've had first thread yes, but what about second thread)

Delicious second thread

Re: Delicious second thread

no subject

no subject

no subject

I

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

I

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

I

no subject

no subject