Podpop

[cityship]

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. Tag each other in groups of 2's, 3's, and 4's, to get some interaction to start with. If a thread doesn't already have 2 or 3 people tagged in, tag it with your character's podpop popping near the other people, rather than making a new subthread. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]


||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.

In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.

--

There was nothing. You were going about your normal life, then there was a bright light, and then? Nothing.

Then the world lurches.

The chamber here is humid.

Actually, "chamber" isn't quite accurate. You're in a cavern, half-lit by an eerie greenish light, going on and on as far as the eye can see. The light is coming from what can only be described as pods, glistening, round greenish-yellow things, glowing with a pale inner light, outlining human -- and not quite human -- forms. Each is rooted to the floor, to the walls, with something black, twisted, and unidentifiable.

They line the walls of the cavern, go up in maddeningly high columns, curling and corkscrewing up into the darkness, until the light from them is like that of the stars, glowing pale and mournful in clusters in the darkness above. Twisted walkways and stairs crisscross, traverse the platforms in front of the pods, wending their way back and forth, up and down through the chamber.

You just came from one of those pods, broke free like a butterfly from a (slimy, nasty) chrysalis.

Now you stand alone but not quite alone, naked, not knowing how you got there, who took you, or why you were taken.

As your body heats up again, you realize the air is warm -- just a few degrees too warm to be comfortable -- and muggy; it smells acrid and organic, like freshly spilt blood and sweat. Your mouth tastes of salt.

The floors are pulsing under your feet, throbbing...

Wherever you are, this entire place...is alive.

Oh, and also you're naked and covered in alien snot.

When you call out, ask where you are, a voice speaks to you, in your head. She tells you:

||You are here.||

When you ask who she is, she tells you that her name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but that you may call her Stacy. When she tells you who she is, there is a gush of emotion, love, maternal warmth. You are on a ship. She is that ship. Her name is Stacy and she loves you. Her voice is warm and motherly, even if these messages sound almost automated.

Glowing phosphorescent lights appear in pustules along the floor. They lead you up a massive spiraling walkway that gives you a view of what are possibly millions in stasis. At the top is a room with moving vines that clean you and clothe you in a plant-like body-suit--soft, but durable. After that, the lights lead you to a great cavernous room with a clear floor that lets you see all the holes and tunnels in the walls of it. When you reach the center, the last thing she tells you before whisking you away to gather your belongings and meet the rest of the crew is this reassuring thought:

||You have been Chosen to accomplish a Great Purpose. You have been Chosen to help fight the Ohm, a race of insectoid beings that are the destroyers of worlds.||

||You have been Chosen as champions of life, as protectors of the worlds and peoples that are left. The others are waiting for you. They will explain everything.||

She will tell you nothing more. Your answers lie with these "others" she speaks of.

Comments

Not bad at all~

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

For all his gentleness and slow wits, the essential tension still held--dim eyes burned sharp and garnet-bright with the purity of conviction that only the simplest, most sincere feelings could bring to hear. His tail snaked behind him, his blades held subtly differently--Jara hated to fight. He had never liked to see blood spilled. But it was obvious that he knew how, and that he was good at it--he would not hesitate, if he had to. If the Yeerks could use his body as a weapon, then he would use it as well, and turn that learning against them.

But he was certainly not mindless; he knew who his anger was directed at, and why. Jara took a moment to scratch at his chest and arms, gathering up tacky half-dried slime and rolling it between his palms. It wasn't a very good demonstration, and while the slime was solid enough to be worked, it wasn't as sticky as it should have been to hold together properly. Still, he managed to create a loose, lumpy shape perhaps two inches long, something that could very easily fit into one of Daniel's hands. "Yeerk is small. Small like this." He brought it closer so Daniel could see, movements carefully controlled as he offered it to him.

He didn't back away, once the gesture was offered--Jara stayed close, bent low to watch Daniel's face, one claw held up to point very purposefully at the human's forehead, right between his eyes. (Bang.) Maybe his obviously intimidating size was being used purposefully now, to impress upon his new friend how dire the information was, or maybe he just wanted to watch closely and make sure he was believed; either way, his eyes were fierce, and his voice low and serious, even as he struggled to find appropriate words to make his description.

"Yeerk get in your head, and head is not yours. Body is not yours. Voice is not yours." Jara moved--slowly, now. Jerkily, a puppet being tugged along by its strings, tail moving from side to side, arm lowering and raising, fingers clenching and uncurling by degrees.

"Yeerk in your head, and make you do things; you do nothing. Can do nothing. Only scream! Scream in head, and nobody listens. Nobody hears. You are nothing. Then only for Yeerk." As non-vocal as his species tended to be, pantomime seemed almost more appropriate than the explanation; his head jerked to one side, his tail to the other, taking a step back and abruptly rearing to his full height. Sharp, purposeful movements now, the imaginary puppet strings snapping.

Finally, finally, he lowered himself again--the gesture was almost like a bow, as he planted his hands on his thighs, shoulders bent and neck arched to display the top of his head to Daniel. Along with the three sharp horns sprouting from it, a thick, ragged scar curved from his forehead to nearly the base of his skull, marking a blow that looked like it should by all rights have left his head in two pieces altogether. The anger had bled out of him at some point during the explanation; his voice was calm now, steady, crackling with intensity of purpose. "Jara Hamee has his own head. Jara Hamee will free other Hork Bajir. Jara Hamee kill Yeerks, or die. Never again."

Re: Not bad at all~

[hi_there_aliens]

Jara looked like he was managing to keep that anger in check for now, to keep it focused on these Yeerks and Vissers and not on anyone else. The agitation remained, made that tail lash jerkily, the blades stiff with barely concealed energy. Daniel kept very still just to be safe. Jara's eyes looked like burning coals, a hatred that he knew too well seething behind them. There was something so personal about it, a rage there that was familiar, and then Daniel found out just why. The Hork Bajir clawed at his chest, at the slime there, and clumsily molded it into something small. Then he dropped it into Daniel's palm. The archaeologist looked down.

Daniel's mouth went dry. It was crudely made and not perfect, but he had a pretty good idea what it was just by the size and general shape. It looked like it could've been a larval stage.

The Hork Bajir indicated the archaeologist's skull with a talon, a move that reminded him suddenly of an an oncoming bullet. That wasn't quite how the Goa'uld worked. They wrapped themselves around the spine, then wove filaments into the brain. But they didn't just settle directly onto the brain itself. It was possible that Jara's people didn't have a word or concept for a spinal cord. They probably just combined it and the brain to mean the thinking mind if they didn't specify those body parts.

Jara remained too close, right past his personal space. Red eyes glared into his as he did his best to explain it in his broken English. He explained what Daniel was already familiar with. Worming their way into you, destroying your free will, of everything you were or stood for, a complete perversion and violation of a person while some damn snake walked around wearing your body and voice. Jara spoke of the watching, the way a host was forced to watch and the screaming into a void. Something of the host survived. And they saw everything. Daniel was barely aware of his hand trembling under the slime model.

It looked like words failed him, because Jara seemed to change his mind, instead focusing more on portraying it another way.

With a growing horror, Daniel remained where he was as he watched Jara's pantomime. Not because he thought Jara was going to lash out or go crazy, but because of what this other language represented. It was frightening accurate. It was like watching what Sha're and every single host was going through. English wasn't exactly Jara's strong point here, but his skills at non verbal communication were absolutely perfect. Daniel could only watch as Jara convulsed and spasmed, jerked around as if drawn by someone else. Like a puppet on strings. Jara would try to move one way then get jerked the other. It reminded him of a gruesome dance, and it showed him perfectly what it was to be to be taken, as if from personal experience. He could see Sha're's deadened eyes looking back at him and that thing laughing behind them.

Daniel didn't realize he was breathing raggedly, on the verge of hyper ventilating, until the Hork Bajir finally slowed. Jara then squatted back down. He showed his head to Daniel. Even with his nearsightedness, he could see it clearly enough at this distance. There was a nasty scar marring the Hork Bajir's head. Daniel couldn't tell if it was from a blow or if someone had tried to perform a brutal idea of brain surgery on him.

"Goa'uld. You were a host," he whispered. His voice was hoarse. Out here? Wherever 'here' was, but he didn't know of any other species that took people over like that. The same thing, just different words for them? 'Visser' must be their word for 'System Lord'.

The question was burning in his mind. How had Jara survived the removal? They hadn't been able to safely remove it from Kawalsky and they had better equipment and science back home, at least, better than what Jara's species appeared to have. There couldn't be Thor's Hammers lying around all around the galaxy. And yet, Jara had survived it somehow.

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

"Goa'uld is Yeerk?" Jara questioned, but the other term was indeed familiar to him; he nodded decisively as he stepped back, resuming a more comfortable distance and position to speak in. "Yes. Jara Hamee was host. Ket Halpak was host. Head voice tell Jara Hamee run with Ket Halpak from Yeerks. Run and have Toby. Toby born free. First, in long time. Jara Hamee and Ket and Toby hide in valley for safe, start fight Yeerks. Free other Hork Bajir for live in valley, and help fight, help free more."

"When Arn come to valley, ask for 'DNA' for make new Hork Bajir. Want make Hork Bajir on Hork Bajir home again, for fight Yeerks there. Toby say, is small gift for ask. We all give for harvest. Toby go in ship with Arn, for helping to find weapons hidden, so new Hork Bajir can fight. Not come home yet, before." The explanation about Yeerks--Goa'uld?--was considerably more than Jara was used to talking at a stretch; it was exhausting, trying to figure out ways to put such things into words when everyone around him already knew so personally and intuitively what he was talking about.

Only once he stopped to catch his breath did Jara realize how upset Daniel looked; he immediately felt bad. It was important, frightening information that Daniel needed to know for his own safety, but he didn't want to hurt his new friend! Had he already known about the Yeerks, if he had a different word for them? Had he been a host too, or someone he knew? Maybe someone was still infested. Dealing with Controllers you knew was the hardest.... Jara reached out to settle a gentle, apologetic hand onto Daniel's shoulder.

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel slid down to sit on the edge of an empty pod behind him. "Goa'uld," he repeated, unconsciously emphasizing the pronunciation for Jara's benefit. "Y-yes, I think so. Maybe."

He buried his head in his hands and just listened to Jara talk. He tried to get the scene he'd just witnessed out of his head. It didn't work at all. That image of Jara as a host, every host, Sha're and Skaara was playing over and over across his eyelids, and he just knew that he was going to be seeing this every time he lay down to sleep. The Hork Bajir was a master of non verbal communication in ways the Tau'ri couldn't even begin to approach.

Eyes closed, Daniel tried to concentrate and get his breathing back in order. Jara's words flit in and out, ungainly and rough after that dance, and he had to focus to make out just what he was talking about. Something about the 'Arn', but he was too distressed to wonder what it was. It slid over him like a wave passing. Both he and his wife had been hosts, they'd made a break for it, had a child, maybe the first Hork Bajir born free of slavery. Something about DNA and a harvest.. They'd started a rebellion, and like the Jaffa, were trying to free themselves...

Daniel's mind kept going back to that display. All those hosts, Sha're and Kendra. All conscious and aware of every single thing the Goa'uld forced them to do, maybe even every single moment without rest. The enormity of the violation hadn't fully hit him until now.

He was so stupid. Daniel knew what she was going through. Sort of. You could guess, sort it out. Intellectually you could figure it out but to see that representation of it, everything behind it. The only way it could have hit him harder was to become a host himself.

Daniel was coming close to losing it. It wasn't going to do anyone any good if he did, least of all Sha're or SG-1. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried to school himself back into somewhere he could be more useful. He felt Jara's hand settle on his shoulder. Daniel kept himself hidden behind his hands for a few seconds longer before finally returning the contact. Reaching up, he gave Jara a pat across the knuckles.

He sat up straighter a moment later, dropping his hands back onto his lap. He needed to get his act together. Try and be useful here, he thought.

Daniel's voice wavered faintly when he did speak. It got stronger as he went on. "So you were able to make that decision to rebel even when you were a host. How did you trick your Goa'uld into it? Did you find one of these?"

He reached out, and on the condensation of the pod surface, drew a simple shape.

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

Jara echoed the name carefully to set the pronunciation in his mind, offering a few almost dove-like coos of reassurance as he squeezed Daniel's shoulder. What could he say? What could he do? Something must have happened. Daniel shouldn't be nearly this upset unless something had happened to him with the Yeerks, right? With the Goa'uld? He didn't know what he was supposed to do. How did you help someone in that situation, how did you protect them? How could you do it except promise to fight with them like a brother, when the Yeerks weren't here?

He didn't like this, not at all. The bitter scents of adrenaline and heightened distress stung his nostrils, and he could hear how rough and uneven the human's breathing was, the unnatural quickness with which it came. He could feel Daniel's shoulder shaking under his hand. His tail flexed and swayed slowly behind him, restless with energy that had no direction to flow; such signals of upset made him want to run and leap and climb, to snatch up his comrades and push them into the highest branches and help them all swing away to safety. It made him want to step in front of him and dig in his talons and brace himself to meet whatever the oncoming threat was, bristle and leap and slash until they fell down in a heap and the Taxxons rushed to feast and devoured them all.

But the Yeerks were not here. Nobody was here. Nobody except them, except the Flowers and those shades within them, except Mother Sky and the humans and few not-humans that had bloomed. Nothing to hide from. Nothing to protect from. It was disconcerting.

But Daniel seemed to be recovering, somehow, lowering his hands, sitting up straighter, touching the Flower..... Jara dropped into a loose crouch, head snaking forward to study the shape, before shaking his head; he hadn't seen anything like that before. "Can think, even when host. Can know. Can feel, can see, can hear. Not do." That seemed the simplest matter to clarify--after all, even if he had been a host for a good three-fourths of his own life, he still had that life experience, if.... second-hand, so to speak.

"Not find that. Yeerk come out head, go in Yeerk Pool. Must go in Yeerk Pool, must eat. Must eat before three days." Jara carefully held up a four-fingered hand, folding his thumb down. "If not eat after three days, starve. Yeerk die. Is much painful, other Hork Bajir say. Must tie other Hork Bajir up, watch for three days. Watch always. Must wait for Yeerk die, for other Hork Bajir free. Jara Hamee hear head voice say run, when Jara Hamee Yeerk go into Yeerk Pool. When Ket Halpak Yeerk go into Yeerk Pool. Jara Hamee take Ket Halpak, run away. Run away before Yeerk done with eat, before other hosts lock Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak in cage."

[hi_there_aliens]

He could do this. He had to. The alternative was just break down and give up and that wasn't going to happen. It didn't get Sha're back. It didn't help the SGC and Earth. Daniel gave his kneecaps a squeeze to anchor himself and looked at Jara. The Hork Bajir leaned over to inspect the drawing. His head tilted at the shape, studying it for a long while before finally giving a strange shake of his head that he guessed was a 'no'. The archaeologist's shoulders drooped. It looked like Thor hadn't come to his section of space, or if he had, then he hadn't left one of those. He really shouldn't be that surprised. Cimmeria could've been a one-time deal. Otherwise Teal'c might have mentioned more planets with Goau'ld keep out signs on them.

He listened very carefully at what Jara had to say next. Kendra and now Jara already proved beyond a doubt what the host went through. He knew that. He just couldn't see how they'd taken the Goa'uld out without the Hammer.

Was he hearing this wrong? He didn't think so, but Jara wasn't making any sense. Well he was, but not the way he'd expected. They'd never come across anything like a pool they had to eat from. The symbiotes they'd seen seemed to eat just fine with their host's mouth. He'd never heard of anything quite like what Jara was saying. Where were the Jaffa? He couldn't imagine a Goa'uld, even if they had to eat like that, leaving their host unrestrained while they fed.

Daniel didn't say it but he was quietly impressed by the Hork Bajir. From the sounds of it, he'd waited for an opportune moment and made a break for it. Jara had kept his head after being a host for how long and not only that, had acted quickly and intelligently under pressure, and he'd managed to save his wife.

"That was some quick thinking. You're very lucky to have escaped," Daniel didn't try to hide the admiration in his voice. He was glad something good at come from it. His wife, Toby. Jara's actions sounded like they may have helped pave the way for others of his kind. It was lucky that he hadn't been shot or injured, or worse, re-taken, in the escape. He could think of so much that could go wrong.

Daniel stared down at the pod thoughtfully, considering what he'd heard. He rubbed at his cheek. "See, that's weird. The Goa'uld we've seen don't operate like that. They don't have to leave the body for nutrients every three days."

They didn't ever.

Didn't they? Suddenly Daniel wasn't all that sure. Sure, they all knew more about the Goa'uld than most of their own subjects, but there was a lot they didn't know about their society, their biology and needs.

"I mean, these guys can live up to thousands of years if they have a.... " Daniel sat up straight suddenly. "You didn't happen to see anything like a sarcophagus when you were a host, did you?"

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

"Am much lucky." Jara agreed, pride and pleasure welling up to help wash the unsettled feelings away; he remembered their harrowing escape very well, and just how close they had come to losing their lives multiple times during their flight. "If head voice not send guide, Jara Hamee not make it, Ket Halpak not make it. Would have Yeerk in head still, or dead."

Quite frankly, he would prefer to be dead by far. After having spent so much of his life as a Controller, and then having had a real taste of freedom, it seemed like the kinder option. Thankfully, Tobias had made that a moot point.

But he gave Daniel a curious look as the man sat up straighter, realizing that he must have thought of or remembered something important. Were they making some sort of progress? Had he figured something out? "What Goa'uld you see do? What meaning, sarcophagus?"

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel grinned. "Very very lucky."

He knew that look too well, the one that clouded Jara's eyes for a second. Death was better than being a host, but still, if the host could be saved...

Daniel had the impression he was losing something in the translation. A head voice send guide? Telepathy? This sort of thing wasn't a strong point of his, it felt like it was more of Sam's arena, and he didn't think Jara would be up for explaining it more clearly. He wasn't even sure he'd understood him right. He might be talking about something else entirely.

Jara was looking at him curiously. Daniel had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. A sarcophagus is part of a tomb. A box." he tried to indicate its rough shape and dimensions with his hands. "Ancient Egyptians would put their dead in them and seal it. They did it to to preserve their bodies from decay."

There was more to it, like the threat of grave robbers or the mummification process, as well as the fact that the Egyptians weren't the only ones to make use of sarcophagi, but he was trying not to overwhelm Jara while he was at it.

"The Goa'uld have their own version of them, except theirs is like a machine. Their sarcophagi can heal a person, even bring them back from the dead. A System Lord with a sarcophagus could live for hundreds, even thousands of years."

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

"Box." Jara agreed readily enough; he knew what those were, though he frankly had no idea what a tomb might be, much less who the Egyptians were or why they would want to prevent decay--Hork Bajir burial practices mostly involved digging a hole beneath a tree so their fellows could be laid to rest amidst its roots. Spiritual aspects of the tradition aside, it tended to be very good for the trees they depended on, and that was something they'd never be able to accomplish if they put a box around their dead to keep them from being restored to the earth. Nevertheless, he brought his claws up to mimic the gesture thoughtfully, sketching the sarcophagus' dimensions and shape and considering. Most of the boxes he had handled as a host were square or rectangular....

"No sarcophagus." Jara concluded, after a period of thought trying to remember all the cargo he had hauled. "No sarcophagus at Yeerk Pool. But Vissers have ship for self. Blade ships for Visser own use. Might have sarcophagus on Blade Ship?" His own Yeerks had never seen fit to explain a great many things to him--or really talk to him almost ever, honestly. Short of being in the chamber himself to see it, or hearing other Controllers talking about it, he would have had no way of knowing it existed or not.

The thought was a little troubling, though; Jara had always thought that when a Yeerk was dead, it was dead. What if they could get brought back to life? What if the others in the Valley were to get captured again? Maybe it didn't matter. After all, if only Vissers had a sarcophagus, then the only one on Earth would belong to Visser Three. Visser Three would never stoop to taking a Hork Bajir host again if he could help it. But if he was able to come back to life....

Well, then they would just have to kill him again, if they could manage the first time. Again and again and again, until he couldn't be gotten back tot he sarcophagus. Until the evil creature stayed dead, where he belonged. That was all there was to it--nothing else would do.

[hi_there_aliens]

Blade ship? The term wasn't familiar. Ra's ship had looked like a pyramid engulfing the sky and disrupting the air, not really all that blade-like. 'Blade' wasn't quite the word he'd have used to describe it.

"Maybe that's why they would need a Pool. The Goa'uld too low-ranking to have a sarcophagus might have to turn to something else to prolong their life," he mused. Daniel sounded doubtful. Was that really the answer here? He wasn't too sure. His gut instinct was telling him there was more to it. He could find plenty of areas in that theory to poke holes through. Having to rely on a Yeerk pool every three days seemed like a huge weakness. Maybe they'd never heard of it because the Goa'uld would go to such great lengths to cover it up. They did masquerade as Gods, after all. But Teal'c, as First Prime to Aphophis, would've been one of the System Lord's most trusted guard. He should've seen something like that and he would've mentioned it if he had.

Jara had gone quiet. Daniel wondered what he was thinking about. The Hork Bajir's face wasn't as mobile as a human's, and he was finding it difficult to guess what was going on behind those eyes.

Daniel pushed himself up off the pod.

"Come on, we should keep looking."

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

Well, he supposed that made sense.... Though that was a very strange way to say it. Eating to prolong life? That was like getting hurt to hasten death. It was obvious, it was true.... but it wasn't the way he would have chosen to explain such a thing, even disregarding the fact that he had a hard time saying things to begin with. Eating to avoid starving to death was the absolute least someone could do to live longer.

Jara nodded uncertainly at the theory, but sprang to his feet readily enough once Daniel motioned to move on; even after knowing the man for less than an hour, even with the discrepancies in size and strength and visual sharpness, even in such a strange situation, even after finding himself lost and alone with strangers.... it was obvious that he was already willing to follow him. Ready to trust him and his judgment as a leader. Perhaps it had been ingrained into his personality and habits from the many years spent as a Controller, perhaps it was some vestige of dominance instincts recognizing a superior set of skills that was more useful in this situation, but he would follow orders if they were given.

Even so, it didn't keep him from offering a suggestion, based on his own observations; Jara glanced at the pods again, at the still and silent shadows within, before letting his eyes skim over the empty pod and back to Daniel. After all, they had come from ones that had already started to open, right? So it must make some sort of sense.... "Daniel friend, Jara Hamee think maybe better look for friends not in Flowers. Other Flowers not open yet, maybe not ready, not here yet. Mother Sky only have people for come to be with her."

[hi_there_aliens]

Huh? Flowers? What was he talking about? The archaeologist didn't see anything in here that looked remotely like a flower. A lot of coiling shapes that looked organic, the sickly lights, a lot of naked people and even more slime, the pods--- oh.

He guessed they could look like a flower. Maybe if you turned your head, squinted, and tried very hard. Daniel wasn't quite seeing it himself. He'd have equated those things with falling out of huge rotten egg. Minus the smell, but that's disturbingly what the experience was like like once he had the time and the coherency to think about it more. The slime felt like the same consistency. Yeah, not flower-like at all. Unless Jara was talking about the act of waking in those things and getting... birthed out. He obviously couldn't see what it looked like when he'd come out, but maybe they did look like it. Like petals unfolding?

Daniel still wasn't quite seeing it but he was going to try anyway.

"Flowers?" Daniel touched the pod at the same time, watching Jara to make sure they were on the same page.

Jara didn't think it was a good idea to search amongst the unopened ones. Would it be dangerous to try and open them early? That was assuming they could figure out a way to even pull that off. Maybe he just believed in signs.

"I'm sorry, Mother Sky? Is that a nature spirit for your people?"

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

Jara nodded encouragingly at the question, touching the pod delicately with the tips of his claws. The gesture was gentle and almost reverent; he tipped his head and let it fall back a fair bit, pointing with beak and eyes directly above them, to the gleaming stardust specks of far-distant pods rising high into the sky.

"Mother Sky, kalashi for Father Deep." He spoke more quietly now, bringing his hands up to his chest to clasp them and twine their fingers together. They slowly parted again, fingers lifting and curling as his hands spread. It was a silently poetic gesture, the best he could do to adequately explain two lovers coming together, and the blossoming life that followed such a union. "Hork Bajir kawatnoj of Mother Sky and Father Deep. In Mother Sky, much flowers blooming on Great Tree--Mother Sky is dark, they bloom. Much flowers, much bright." He motioned upwards again with his head.

"Hork Bajir die, and go be with Mother Sky always. Must climb Great Tree to find Mother Sky. Must become flower."

He looked back at Daniel more seriously now, and reached to pointedly caress the nearest pod with his knuckles, tracing the outline of the silhouette within. "Jara Hamee and Daniel friend come from flowers. Mother Sky speak to Jara Hamee. Flowers not bloom yet, is not time. Not climb Great Tree yet for to bloom. Must wait for flower friends come to Mother Sky."

He didn't know what else he could say, didn't know the words--he had no words for it. None to explain the importance that they leave these flowers alone, to grow and shine and wait, until they were ready to usher forth their new souls into the afterlife. None to suggest how important this situation was, or how precious these things were, the bare hints of life not yet lost cradled within them. Nothing to suggest how lucky they were to be able to see this, to be able to experience a goddess' love.

He couldn't speak any of his thoughts, so he didn't speak at all. He simply looked at Daniel quietly, expression soft and wistful, waiting and hoping that the human would understand.

[hi_there_aliens]

Flower. He was getting Jara. He hoped. Daniel listened carefully as Jara began to explain.

Kawatnoj? Jara was unconsciously letting out new words in his native language, but Daniel didn't interrupt him this time. Could that imply a general word for off spring? Maybe something to indicate chosen ones.

Jara was again moving to illustrate his point. This time it wasn't nearly so horrifying but it was just as raw. Jara didn't seem to think about it, he just seemed to pour out what he was feeling into just his body language. A faint feeling of tranquility settled over Daniel as he watched Jara explain. The Hork Bajir moved with a grace that he hadn't displayed earlier, showing what his English couldn't. Jara's hands lifted and twined, a singularly elegant movement, giving off a feeling of coming together and lifting, a deep rooted connection, right before blossoming into something new.

From what Daniel could follow, he was saying this Father Deep and Mother Sky's union had either created the universe or maybe, at the very least, created the Hork Bajir. Something about flowers in the Great Tree in the dark Mother Sky. Bright flowers in the dark.

Is he talking about stars?, Daniel wondered.

It wasn't that uncommon a belief. Maybe Jara's people thought the dead only continued their journey in another form, that their life force became stars when they died. Hork Bajir dying and climbing a tree to their Mother Sky, to become a Flower. Daniel looked at the pod that Jara had just labeled.

Sudden realization washed over him. "You think this is the afterlife. That we're dead."

[hashisownhead.livejournal.com]

It was only natural to supplement words with action, to express what was in his heart, to give voice to what his voice could not; there was no way to separate it all from each other. Each had their different uses, each had their own meaning, and each had their proper place right by the others' sides--all part of a whole, the desire to reach out and touch someone, to understand and be understood, to form a connection. There was no need to think about what seemed so obvious and natural and right; interactions were meant to be about what you could give to each other, and to do that, all you could do was offer what you had, what you knew and felt.

You didn't always need much to make yourself understood; sometimes, words weren't even necessary. And Jara was pretty sure that Daniel had understood him, that he was summing up in few words what he hadn't been sure how to explain. Jara nodded his confirmation, hand settling to curve his palm over the pod they stood near. That was exactly it--they had died. Something had happened, and he had died, and they had climbed up to Mother Sky, even if he didn't remember doing so. They must have, because why else would Mother Sky tell them they were here, and how much she loved them? Why else would they be standing in the sky, surrounded by the stars?

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel hated to break it to Jara but he didn't think they were dead. Or if there was an afterlife, this probably wasn't it. Waking up slimy and naked didn't fit with anything he'd ever heard.

There was also the fact that he was more personally acquainted with dying and coming back to life than he'd ever wanted. Jack liked to get smart about it when he was worried about him and trying not to show it. Daniel remembered Jack starting out a firefight on a planet like that once. They'd nearly gotten shot up, barely gotten cover. Sam rattled off their chances of surviving a frontal advance (zero) and then Jack turned to him, forced a grin, and then promptly told him 'don't worry, Daniel's an old hat at it, he'll give you pointers'. The dirty look Daniel gave him could've frozen hell over. There was a ring of truth though.

So Daniel liked to think he had a pretty good idea what to expect when you died. For one, it hurt. It hurt a lot. Sometimes it was short, sometimes it was a lot longer and you wished death would hurry up. Then blackness. When he came to, there was no going to the light, no journey to the sky. No slime pods.

Granted he'd either woken up to the inside of a sarcophagus or to the Nox. Still, he was pretty sure this wasn't an afterlife.

And after all they'd seen, everything they'd been through, still had to do, how embarrassing would it be if he'd ended up dying, and that was it, because of that ramp? Dr. Daniel Jackson, Ph.D. Responsible for Unlocking the Stargate, Partially Responsible for Killing Ra; Death by Ramp. Broke a new speed record while he was at it.

Daniel kept his mouth shut for once. He was sure he was right, but it obviously meant a lot to Jara, so maybe he could find another way of breaking the news to him. Or later.

So the "Flowers" were off limits. "We'll leave the pods alone, just keep searching among those already out. Is that okay?"