Dustin Silver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quark_assassin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-06-19 01:23 pm
quark_assassin) wrote in revivalproject2022-06-19 01:23 pm
Stargazing
WHO: Dustin, Open
WHERE: Temba, on the roof of a moderately tall building on the northwest side of town
WHAT: Dustin is trying to handle a wicked case of interplanetary jetlag.
WHEN: Several nights in mid-June, post-Calibrations
WARNINGS: Language
To call today 'a weird day' would be one hell of an understatement. In Dustin's mind, he thinks it more accurate to call it 'a bust.'
The first few hours of his arrival felt like a blur. Wandering like a wild animal through the abandoned city, accidentally finding another person, getting some provisions from him, discovering another person and some spaceships; learning that life on other planets exists, interplanetary and interstellar travel is possible, the multiverse is a thing. On another day, Dustin would look at the flux of data the Agrii downloaded into his head by itself as a huge boon, one that he could spend the rest of his life investigating to its furthest reaches.
But this is not that day. His options to investigate his new world are woefully limited - in some cases intentionally so, if what Cal told him about the data points and expertises has merit. He's got no tools. No adequate facilities to operate out of. No materials to test with. Not even any documentation to base his studies off of. He is completely and utterly alone.
...Well, okay, none of those things are technically true. Other people that have been here longer than him almost certainly have tools and have restored some buildings specifically for experimentation and workshopping. They might even know of some alien plants and animals with unique reagents to study and apply, or have claimed an expertise to help answer some of his questions. Even if they didn't, Dustin has found the so-called 'Welcome Center' (he refuses to think of it using the Agrii's phonetic spelling) and knows he could at least try to request some of the things he thinks he needs, or take an expertise for himself.
And yet, he doesn't. Instead Dustin sits in a state of self-imposed misery, too suspicious of the Agrii to use their resources, too anxious of the other inhabitants to directly ask for help. About the only thing he has going for him is that he knows where he can find food, and he's been given clearance to wander in and out of that place as he pleases. He doesn't even trust the beds in the ship that eventually opens up for him; as soon as Dustin discovers that he shares a room with four other people, he goes to a locker, grabs all of the sheets and towels out of it, snatches a pillow from one of the least-slept-in-looking beds, stuffs all of it into a sling made out of his outer two sweater layers and gets the hell out of there.
As he searches for a more appropriately isolated place to sleep in, Dustin gets the first inclination that his circadian rhythm is fucked. He can't claim to have a perfect sense of time and is used to taking midday naps anyway, but he feels like it's been a very long day and the sun isn't in the right place in the sky to justify it. Perhaps he has confirmation bias from checking the clock app on his tablet, where he was surprised to find it reading 21:00 hours. The sun shouldn't even be out right now. Maybe they're at higher latitudes than the plant growth and heat would suggest? Maybe the days on this alien planet are longer than he's used to? Maybe the clock's just wrong? None of these ideas make Dustin any less tired. He finds a mostly-intact building, builds himself a nest of blankets and towels, and settles in to nap.
He wakes up again to find that not only has his nap turned into an exhaustion-fueled, full-blown sleep, but also that the clock app is reading 26:30 - which doesn't make any sense. At least the sun's set by now. However, now Dustin is very awake and still lacking in the materials that are directly at his fingertips, but he's unwilling to take.
So he does what would normally be the first thing he'd try if he found himself somewhere strange: Figure out where he is. In a sense, anyway.
Over the next few nights, Dustin goes through the motions of a project. He rotates what building he sleeps in, but always returns to the same, tall-ish building in the northwestern corner of Temba. He clambers up too many flights of stairs that were made for creatures much bigger than him with a makeshift pack of his sleeping supplies, a bit of food, and a bundle of large sticks and kindling, until he makes it to the roof. There he refuels the campfire he built on the first night, grabs a few pieces of charcoal from it, lights it up again in the far corner, turns his eyes skyward and watches. A few minutes of silent observation later and he starts drawing on the roof itself. By the end of the first night, the rooftop is covered in circles, dots, traced lines of movement and annotations - a crude charcoal star map. The following nights see him add subtle changes and pick out landmarks, like distinctive star clusters, what might be a nebula, the phases of the moon. Thankfully it's been clear enough the past few days to attempt this.
Perhaps unfortunately for Dustin, the cloudless summer nights also mean that the flickering light of his rooftop campfire carries quite a distance. He's definitely not staying hidden, and there's nothing stopping people from getting to the top of the building like he did to investigate. This little secluded observatory is not likely to stay so isolated for long.
WHERE: Temba, on the roof of a moderately tall building on the northwest side of town
WHAT: Dustin is trying to handle a wicked case of interplanetary jetlag.
WHEN: Several nights in mid-June, post-Calibrations
WARNINGS: Language
To call today 'a weird day' would be one hell of an understatement. In Dustin's mind, he thinks it more accurate to call it 'a bust.'
The first few hours of his arrival felt like a blur. Wandering like a wild animal through the abandoned city, accidentally finding another person, getting some provisions from him, discovering another person and some spaceships; learning that life on other planets exists, interplanetary and interstellar travel is possible, the multiverse is a thing. On another day, Dustin would look at the flux of data the Agrii downloaded into his head by itself as a huge boon, one that he could spend the rest of his life investigating to its furthest reaches.
But this is not that day. His options to investigate his new world are woefully limited - in some cases intentionally so, if what Cal told him about the data points and expertises has merit. He's got no tools. No adequate facilities to operate out of. No materials to test with. Not even any documentation to base his studies off of. He is completely and utterly alone.
...Well, okay, none of those things are technically true. Other people that have been here longer than him almost certainly have tools and have restored some buildings specifically for experimentation and workshopping. They might even know of some alien plants and animals with unique reagents to study and apply, or have claimed an expertise to help answer some of his questions. Even if they didn't, Dustin has found the so-called 'Welcome Center' (he refuses to think of it using the Agrii's phonetic spelling) and knows he could at least try to request some of the things he thinks he needs, or take an expertise for himself.
And yet, he doesn't. Instead Dustin sits in a state of self-imposed misery, too suspicious of the Agrii to use their resources, too anxious of the other inhabitants to directly ask for help. About the only thing he has going for him is that he knows where he can find food, and he's been given clearance to wander in and out of that place as he pleases. He doesn't even trust the beds in the ship that eventually opens up for him; as soon as Dustin discovers that he shares a room with four other people, he goes to a locker, grabs all of the sheets and towels out of it, snatches a pillow from one of the least-slept-in-looking beds, stuffs all of it into a sling made out of his outer two sweater layers and gets the hell out of there.
As he searches for a more appropriately isolated place to sleep in, Dustin gets the first inclination that his circadian rhythm is fucked. He can't claim to have a perfect sense of time and is used to taking midday naps anyway, but he feels like it's been a very long day and the sun isn't in the right place in the sky to justify it. Perhaps he has confirmation bias from checking the clock app on his tablet, where he was surprised to find it reading 21:00 hours. The sun shouldn't even be out right now. Maybe they're at higher latitudes than the plant growth and heat would suggest? Maybe the days on this alien planet are longer than he's used to? Maybe the clock's just wrong? None of these ideas make Dustin any less tired. He finds a mostly-intact building, builds himself a nest of blankets and towels, and settles in to nap.
He wakes up again to find that not only has his nap turned into an exhaustion-fueled, full-blown sleep, but also that the clock app is reading 26:30 - which doesn't make any sense. At least the sun's set by now. However, now Dustin is very awake and still lacking in the materials that are directly at his fingertips, but he's unwilling to take.
So he does what would normally be the first thing he'd try if he found himself somewhere strange: Figure out where he is. In a sense, anyway.
Over the next few nights, Dustin goes through the motions of a project. He rotates what building he sleeps in, but always returns to the same, tall-ish building in the northwestern corner of Temba. He clambers up too many flights of stairs that were made for creatures much bigger than him with a makeshift pack of his sleeping supplies, a bit of food, and a bundle of large sticks and kindling, until he makes it to the roof. There he refuels the campfire he built on the first night, grabs a few pieces of charcoal from it, lights it up again in the far corner, turns his eyes skyward and watches. A few minutes of silent observation later and he starts drawing on the roof itself. By the end of the first night, the rooftop is covered in circles, dots, traced lines of movement and annotations - a crude charcoal star map. The following nights see him add subtle changes and pick out landmarks, like distinctive star clusters, what might be a nebula, the phases of the moon. Thankfully it's been clear enough the past few days to attempt this.
Perhaps unfortunately for Dustin, the cloudless summer nights also mean that the flickering light of his rooftop campfire carries quite a distance. He's definitely not staying hidden, and there's nothing stopping people from getting to the top of the building like he did to investigate. This little secluded observatory is not likely to stay so isolated for long.