Lars got outta there as soon as the gems around him started to reform. He wasn't so great with crowds back on Earth (wait, no, he was on Earth again, he couldn't say that anymore!), but spending most of his time on Homeworld as a fugitive really didn't help his social anxiety. The golden sun (Earth's single yellow sun!) was peaking out above the sand dunes, letting Lars see the structure they'd landed at. Ships kept coming and going, and a few gems were already wandering about to explore the new planet. Seeing Fluorite from a distance, Lars waved and shouted happily, but he was too far off. He soon lost her again in the quickly-reforming crowds.
Avoiding as many gems as possible, Lars climbed to the towering new structure. A banner on the front was filled with cheesy party balloons and streamers and a Comic Sans "WELCOME GEM FRIENDS," which Lars guessed let the new refugees know what they were in for, having Steven as their ambassador.
The place seemed entirely unmanned, though. Like all the actual political folks were still on Homeworld trying to sell the place, and letting visitors fend for themselves. Sure, there were signs and more of the robot gem lady's voice offering help to anyone needing it, but no sign of Steven. Or any other humans. Which was probably a good thing, actually. Ease the gems into human interaction. Most humans didn't have an indestructible zombie body.
Lars tried the public communication ports, but they seemed to only be connected to Homeworld and other parts of the Refugee Center. There's nothing like frustrating technology to ruin your mood, Lars decided by the time he'd finished screaming at the piece of junk every variation on "SIRI, CALL BEACH CITY" and "TALK TO OPERATOR" and "GIVE ME DIRECTIONS TO BEACH CITY" that he could think of. He swore he could figure the crappy thing out if he'd had more time before a zircon walked by, giving him the stinkeye and making him decide to give up the endeavor.
Ok. All wasn't lost. "Right, so…" Lars wracked his brain, trying to remember his Earth geography. "Uh… The moon rose over the ocean on Beach City, and it rose in the east, so we must have been… facing…" He held his hands in the air as he sat on a dune in the blazing sun, pink fists trying to symbolise the moon and his hometown respectively. "East. Which is… that way. But, wait, we were by the Atlantic, so… yeah! Okay. Ocean's here. Beach City's here." He shook a fist emphatically.
"And the Sahara was in… Asi-No, Africa. And Africa's… here. So to get to Beach City, I gotta go west. Toward the setting sun. And hopefully run into some humans who can give me actual directions," he said to himself decisively, standing up. "Or a boat ride. Boat ride would be good. I'm not sure I can swim all that way." Like, sure, he couldn't drown , but he hadn't actually been around bodies of water after he died. Maybe he'd sink like a stone. He snorted to himself. Yeah, which would make him an actual gem. He wished .
Maybe being back on Earth, he should take back that sentiment. But spending however-many years in a gem society, even among the outcasts like the off-colors, he was an outsider. A weirdo. And no matter what planet he was on, he always would be.
Lars could feel his face getting redder and blamed it on sunburn.
About a month into his refreshing stroll (as he'd decided to wryly call it), Lars discovered that he could walk on salt water.
Just like… some guy whose name he forgot.
Oh yeah, the Flash.
He took a break now and again, mostly to do some odd jobs as a migrant worker. Of course all the humans pointed out his skin, like he'd just woken up pink this morning and hadn't realized so thank you very much for your concern, buddy, let me change my skin back to default human setting right away . Some of the people he met didn't care. Some people he met cared a lot .
Sorta like gem society too, he guessed.
On the upside, those odd jobs meant he could afford actual clothing instead of gross rags with just enough of a skull visible to make him look like a punk rock wannabe. Though if he didn't change every so often based on where he was, the clothes got him weird looks too. Lars had no idea if clothes styles had changed enough to make his taste old-fashioned, or if the countries he stopped in just didn't happen to be fond of pro-wrestling t-shirts.
After a couple weeks of walking, Lars knew he could probably have gotten to Beach City faster. Hitched a ride with someone, or saved up enough for plane tickets, or stowed away on a boat.
But he'd been away from the Earth so long, and even when he was living here, he hadn't seen nearly this much of it before. And it wasn't like he got tired or sore from all the walking.
So sue him for enjoying the view.
Once he reached the coastline, around three months into his little walk, it didn't take long to find Beach City. He'd thought a lot about what to do when he got there. Talking to Steven was technically priority numero uno, but… His mom and dad and Sadie and everyone else in the town. The years on Homeworld had numbed him to idle thoughts of what they were up to, but now that he had the chance to find out for real, he wasn't going to pass it up for a second.
The place wasn't deserted by a long shot. But it wasn't as busy as he'd remembered it. Houses of loved ones were empty, or occupied by strangers (as he'd embarrassingly found out when he got an elderly lady instead of his mom answering the door. He'd been gone a long time butnot that long. And no amount of time passing would make his mother suddenly turn Korean).
But of course Steven's place was still standing. Still shaped like a giant rock woman. Still on the beach, right where he'd left it.
Lars climbed the stairs, trying to force the nervous trepidation running circles in his mind to just shut up for a second. Think about nothing. Just the stairs he was climbing and the wooden screen door and the sound of his knocking.
A woman answered the door. Familiar, but not too familiar.
"Oh, uh." Lars cracked a grin, shoving his hands in the pockets of his new tin-foil-looking jeans (kids these days and their weird fashion trends). "Hey. Pearl, right? Is Steven in?"
Pearl's face was blank before a polite smile graced it. It looked strained around the corners, and her voice was a little too loud. "Oh! Oh, HI, LARS! SO NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"
She stayed standing at the door, frozen and looking expectant, for a good twenty seconds or so. Lars stared at her.
Pearl opened the door a little wider after a period of time that she apparently deemed was enough of a polite wait. She turned her back on a confused Lars as she hollered peevishly further into the house.
"GARNET? Garnet, can you come here? Because I'm approximately ninety-nine percent sure that this isn't how humans are supposed to work!"
