Two Weird Planets

[quark_assassin]

WHO: Dustin, Felwinter, Tony, the Palm Cottage crew, and OPEN
WHERE: The Charcoal Star Map Roof in Temba, crew quarters on the Palm Cottage, various crafting guilds, the Eorzean wilds, and the Gold Saucer
WHAT: Curiosities, Crabbiness, Collecting, Crafting, and Cards
WHEN: First prompt is backdated to an evening in early July; the rest take place throughout the Eorzea event, July 17th - August 10th.
WARNINGS: Dustin is mean and uses mean words. Also, there might be violence/injury if monsters (or guards??) get involved on some of these quests.
NOTES: An outfit for the event!

1. Northwestern Temba Rooftops [Closed to Felwinter]

It's been a week. And, just like they'd agreed, Dustin is here - specifically, on the roof he and Felwinter had previously met. The familiar campfire has been lit to signal his presence, though its base is a lot neater than it has been; it rained yesterday, ruining the residual charcoal pile and washing away nearly two weeks of star map work in the process.

The boy who'd spent so much time drawing these maps is, perhaps, understandably perturbed - but not actually for that reason. Rather, as he paces agitatedly around the perimeter of the roof, the only thing going through his head is how he won't be able to keep up his end of the deal.

So fucking stupid. Dustin viciously kicks a piece of loose pavement in his path. Making promises I can't keep. Dumbass. I don't even know if he'll be pissed or not. I just wanna get this shit over with and go to sleep.

He pauses, casting a harried glance over the roof's edge.

Where the fuck is he?

2. Palm Cottage Crew Quarters [Closed to Palm Cottage Crew]

When the Palm Cottage and her crew slip into orbit around Eorzea and receive their directions for planet-side, Dustin does not leave the ship. Instead, he grabs the items the Agrii have left for him in his labeled chest, glances at the note with glassy eyes, stuffs it in his pocket and stomps his way back to crew quarters in silence.

In fact, Dustin's been pretty quiet the whole trip. Too busy sulking. His first time in space--fucking space--and he can't even enjoy it because the Agrii forced him here. They really do seem to have a knack for pissing in his cereal. So Dustin spends his time thinking about the best way to get back at them, and by the end of their journey he's settled on a protest of inaction. Any precious seconds he can spend not doing what the Agrii want him to do are victories, by Dustin's estimation. They can get some other sucker to go fuck around for their 'Seek Rats' or whatever. Not this guy.

He wastes the whole first day like this. A lot of it is spent just laying on the top bunk he's claimed, long since devoid of sheets that he stole on day one, tossing the bundled shawl of the outfit the Agrii provided him at the ceiling.

Thump. Thump.

That's definitely not going to get annoying.

3. Gridania Crafting Guilds [OTA]

Thankfully, Dustin's fit of petulance doesn't last long. By the second day he's on the ground like most everyone else.

He's surprised at how quickly he's able to find a place here. The concept of having to massage a population of strangers into giving him intel is daunting, to say the least, which is why Dustin immediately notices how ready the locals are to give him work. They peddle quests like merchants, flagging down passerby, talking loudly about their misgivings, never seeming to care about supply of potential applicants. They even have honest-to-god quest markers. To call the experience 'surreal' would be an understatement.

Dustin ends up having to turn down the first few requests, realizing quickly that he's not equipped to handle the monster-slaying or rumor-mongering needs of these people, but it doesn't take him too long to find something much more achievable: Apprentice woodworking. And from there, the whole world opens up to him.

The biggest hurdle is the tools. The Eorzeans don't use the same sorts of equipment that Dustin is used to for probably obvious reasons, though that equipment also appears to operate with different laws of physics, too. 'Magic,' apparently. All he knows is that this saw he's been given is too light and big to handle the whittling work he's able to squeeze out of it, yet here he is, gently shaping the curved end of a longbow with it like he's handling a precision carving knife. This shit just works and it's incredible.

Dustin does most of his carpentry (and eventually leatherworking) outside, on the small terraces facing the large, dark forest that surrounds Gridania. People wander past, but they don't bother him. The locals go about their business with a silent dignity that Dustin appreciates; perhaps they, too, just want to be in their own head, appreciating the simple beauty of this untouched wilderness.

His fellow spies from Agra-10, on the other hand, are probably not so quiet.

4. Ul'dah Crafting Guilds [OTA]

Dustin does not find Ul'dah nearly so pleasant.

Yes, it has more crafting professions for him to volunteer at. Yes, one of those is motherfucking alchemy. But also it's loud, full of little greasy merchants, and his customers keep riding his ass about meeting deadlines and cutting material costs and other stupid shit that Dustin does not have the patience for. However, for everything that Ul'dah lacks in decorum, it makes up for in quality of information. Dustin cannot fault the locals for their respect in coin and their diligence to follow up on debts paid. His crafting quests here have paid out twice as well as the ones in Gridania.

That being said, he doesn't want to spend any more time around them than he absolutely has to, so most of his days in Ul'dah are spent in the guilds proper. He finds that the Alchemists' Guild calls to him moreso than the others. The underpinnings of basic chemistry spun with something else is absolutely mesmerizing, enough that it helps to block out all the noise of the bustling stalls outside. Or the fact that he's in the company of someone else from Agra-10. Face down over a mortar and pestle, partially-made health potion bubbling over a flame nearby, Dustin reaches out a free hand to where he knows he set aside that water shard. It's missing now. He frowns at the table and, not looking up, snaps his fingers in the direction of the missing ingredient.

"Hey. I need that. Give it back."

5. Limsa Lominsa Crafting Guilds/Markets [OTA]

Limsa Lominsa is a unique blend of exciting jobs and absolute chaos. Dustin settles into being both an armorer and a blacksmith very well - especially so with blacksmithing, a job that he doubts he would ever have the constitution to perform without the assistance of magical tools - however the company that he finds himself in when he tries to sell to the market, or find an isolated place to work by the docks, is...questionable. Something about being surrounded by pirates makes him feel nervous. Sure, they're all very friendly and helpful pirates that he knows are being strong-armed by the local government into cooperating, but they wouldn't stick with the name if they didn't at least partially adhere to the definition, right?

In any case, Dustin is very paranoid at all times here and he constantly feels like he's being tailed. Maybe he is? He hasn't been yet, but today could be the day. It's the primary thought running through his head as he deals with the vendor currently trying to haggle a price for the set of simple leather armor he's trying to sell them. Dustin knows he's being scalped at the current offer and he couldn't care less. He feels so many eyes on the back of his neck right now.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Dustin hisses at the hapless merchant, shoulders hunched as he quickly pushes the roughly-bundled armor over the booth's counter. "Just take it, would you? I'm--I'm in a hurry."

6. Eorzean Wilds [OTA]

Alongside crafting stuff comes gathering stuff, and Eorzea provides on this front, too. There are plenty of people Dustin finds that have quests related to finding unique items out in the wilderness, with just as many willing to let him keep any extra materials he comes across along the way. The related guilds even loan him specialized tools for the job. He supposes he should be thankful for all of this generosity.

But there's a catch.

All of the best gathering spots seem to be inevitably patrolled by monsters. It makes a kind of sense, Dustin has to admit - these materials wouldn't be so sought-after if there wasn't a risk involved in procuring them, else everyone and their mother with a basic pickaxe would go out and dig the mountains dry. Problem is, Dustin is one of those people; he has made plenty of weapons and armor, and is even wearing some of it right now, yet he has no confidence in his ability to protect himself if he's attacked. A couple of daggers and a studded leather jacket will only get him so far without any kind of combat experience.

The only real solution to this problem is to bring someone along that can fight. Regrettably. So here he is, at the edge of town, shuffling his feet and anxiously looking around for faces he recognizes that might be headed in the same direction. Finding one, Dustin meets their eyes and tries to wave them over as subtly as possible.

"Hey! You. Where are you headed?"

Other times - well, most times really - Dustin lacks the patience to wait and tries his luck on his own. It works out well enough at first, as the simpler materials are not far off the main paths and the monsters he catches sight of are generally small and preoccupied with their own business. All he has to do is stay quiet and take his time so he doesn't draw any unwanted attention.

The first few solo ventures leave they boy emboldened. So when he goes out just a little bit further from the trail to park at an isolated pond, rumored to have rare fish in it that some merchant or other wants to cook for his fiance, Dustin is maybe a touch too confident that the local wildlife will leave him alone.

He is mistaken.

Diving out of the way from a swiped tail, Dustin abandons his fishing pole and scrambles for the rocks bordering the water. He's being menaced by some kind of giant, very angry salamander, either territorial or hungry or both. Honestly Dustin can't be bothered for those sorts of details right now.

Shit shit shit! He skids to a stop and presses his back to the cool stone, desperately trying to control his panicked breathing. Way too close. Fuck! How am I supposed to shake this thing?!

On the other side, Dustin hears the heavy footfalls of the salamander following his path up the slope.

Fuck!!

7. Gold Saucer [One thread for Tony, all others OTA]

For Tony

A casino is the last place Dustin expected to find himself. He'd never be caught dead gambling - it's a statistically ruinous waste of money, and the games that can be exploited are often a ruinous waste of time, besides. There are more useful ways for him to make money.

It's not until he gets some intel that the Gold Saucer is selling a few strange, wooden boxes as grand prizes that he starts to reconsider. Now this is something Dustin can justify sinking a bit of time into.

The unpleasantly loud and busy atmosphere is oppressive, enough to drive Dustin to look for the familiar. Scratch cards, racing, costume contests...nothing piques his interest at first. But then he stumbles on a small table in a corner, one of several like it, green-felted with a semi-circle of chairs and a dealer. Dustin slips into the crowd to observe a few hands and finds that whatever game they're playing works remarkably like blackjack. It only takes a round or so for him to memorize this foreign game's rules and card composition, which is enough for him to recognize that he could easily cheat.

Worth a try. Drawing his shawl further over his face in case this massively backfires, Dustin shuffles out of the crowd and takes a seat at the table, signaling for a hand by tapping two fingers to the velvet. As he unconsciously glances around at the rest of the contestants, one of them sees the writing on the wall (and likely his coinpurse) and returns his cards, scuttling away to the bar as the House scoops up his coin. Another man takes his place - some flashy asshole in shades. Dustin narrows his eyes at him briefly before returning his attention to the cards.

Don't need to focus on anyone else, he chides himself. Just count the cards and you'll do fine.

OTA

Later, Dustin settles on playing a game that requires a bit more hard strategy - without needing to cheat at it, anyway.

He's learned the rules of Triple Triad from various inhabitants of the three cities and, inevitably, won their cards off of all of them, so it's a pleasant surprise when he finds this deceptively simple card game being played in a tournament structure at the Gold Saucer. Easy money. It helps that the local custom is to give away one of your best cards if you lose a match, so each win Dustin accumulates makes the next one even easier.

It's starting to get a little boring, actually. Slumped back in his chair, Dustin waits for his next opponent at the gaming table, languidly scratching his head through his hair until he suddenly realizes--

--This is someone else from Agra-10. Dustin's expression shifts rapidly from boredom to surprise to blanket irritation. Looks like the fun's over.

Comments

[quark_assassin]

Dustin's head swivels around to the stairwell at the sound of loud footsteps. At first he's expecting a different visitor, having anticipated that Felwinter would just appear on the edge of the rooftop like he had previously, but he's surprised to find the man himself step through the doorway instead.

"Finally." Not that there was a set time that Felwinter could have been late for; Dustin's just been here for a lot longer than he needed to be out of sheer anxiety and nerves. He walks briskly towards the warlord, as fast as his short legs will take him, yet his head hangs. Not even a cursory attempt is made to try and look at the spot on Felwinter's helmet where his eyes should be. "You have the maps?"

[tyrants_son]

Not much of a greeting, but Felwinter isn't much for them either. He watches Dustin cross the rooftop towards him, head tilting just a touch. It's not quite the look of a teenager eager for an exchange.

Rather than say anything, he reaches into a pocket of his greatcoat, removing a small roll of several pages. He's never transcribed things before, but with Felspring's helpful data, it had not been difficult, and Felwinter had managed with a careful hand. He'd been pretty proud of the results.

"I have marked where they should be adjoined. I did not have a sheet long enough to compile as one."

[quark_assassin]

Dustin stares at the bundle of paper with a heavy, conflicted frown. He wants them. He wants them so bad. Felwinter didn't even ask for anything in return when he'd offered them - maybe he still doesn't? Maybe he's forgotten?

...No, not doing that. "I can't accept these," Dustin mumbles with a resigned sigh.

[tyrants_son]

Felwinter waits. He's good about waiting. It's interesting to see this side of the boy. He'd been so confident in their first conversation, cautious and knowing what he wanted and unafraid to speak his mind when he wanted to. This hesitation is a little different than the shades of what he's shown before.

And then he finally comes to a decision, a response. The warlord finds he is not surprised.

"Have the terms of our agreement changed?" he asks.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin is quick respond with an emphatic shake of his head. "Not the terms," he says, flustered, tightly folding his arms. "The outcome. I was supposed to make you a navigational aid, and I couldn't. I can't accept your end of the deal until I fulfil mine."

[tyrants_son]

If the warlord himself is disappointed, he doesn't show it, and it would have been difficult to tell even without the helmet. Instead Felwinter hums thoughtfully, nodding. He simply adjusts the papers in his hand before returning them to where he had them first stowed.

The silence that settles then is perhaps a bit awkward. Felwinter turns his head towards the fire, watching the flames licking towards the night sky.

"Unexpected complications?" Materials don't seem to be too much of a problem, and Dustin seems clever enough to be able to figure out things he can use. This sort of admission can only mean that the problem is something more out of his control.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin allows the silence to hang. It's preferable to being berated for failure, or pressed to accept something he feels he doesn't deserve. Even Felwinter's lack of expression is a slight mercy; it gives Dustin the freedom to eventually glance up, where he doesn't find a look of judgement or pity. Just cold acceptance.

...Or maybe he's experiencing a bit of pareidolia. Whatever the case, Dustin's feeling less self-conscious when Felwinter follows up for details.

"Yes." He gives a single, firm nod, jaw set. "Made a compass. Doesn't work. It...might be easier to explain if I show you?"

[tyrants_son]

Trial and error. Felwinter looks back at Dustin once the teenager speaks up again. He's accepted that things have not worked out as they had been expected, but this is the way of all plans. There's nothing to be gained by drawing anything out, and truthfully the warlord doesn't feel too strongly in any case. It's mostly because he's not quite sure what he should be feeling. There haven't been many instances where he has made such deals.

But Dustin's actually made something. His time wasn't wasted, not that Felwinter could see him as one for not making good use of time. He nods. "Show me, then."

[quark_assassin]

Dustin nods again and holds up a hand, gesturing for patience while he adjusts his sweater-turned-backpack to rifle through it. He only needs a few moments to locate and pull out the makeshift compass. The device is deceptively shabby in its construction; it's a bit bigger than palm-sized, with an outer casing that's a single piece of bent scrap metal crimped together and no glass protecting the crudely carved needle in the center of a draft-printed compass rose. In reality, Dustin had gone through a lot of trouble to build it. He'd needed to manufacture a tool to shape the scrap metal casing, for one, then find a more permanent source of ink for the backing. Getting up the nerve to wander even a few extra yards further into the beachside cave for the magnetic rock used for the needle was a feat in itself.

But none of that effort mattered in the end, because the stupid thing doesn't work. That should be obvious when Dustin holds it out to Felwinter, as the needle in the center has not stopped spinning wildly in every direction this entire time. Dustin glowers at it.

"Here," he huffs. "Either Agra-10's magnetic field is in too much flux to have a stationary pair of poles, or there's a stronger field that's being picked up on the local level. Whatever. It's no fuckin' good."

[tyrants_son]

Crude as it is, Felwinter knows there's only so may tools available to others. He hadn't expected anything fancy to begin with, and so as far as resources and Dustin's ability goes, he's impressed that something has been cobbled together at all.

The warlord takes the broken compass, staring down at the spinning point. "Hmm." Experimentally he puts a finger in the needle's path to stop it, if momentarily, once again removing it to watch as it picks up again.

"I see," he says. He can't say that he's completely surprised. An alien world with alien properties. At the very least, they've discovered something, although it doesn't at the moment seem very helpful.

With his free hand he once again pulls out the papers containing the mapped out tunnels, holding it out.

"You said you would see about what you could do regarding a compass, Dustin Silver. Technically you have upheld your part. It is not your fault that it has not performed as expected. If anything, it suffices as a reminder that we cannot always apply our knowledge of the workings of Earth." His helmeted head tilts just slightly before looking to the stars. "Perhaps we will have to rely on the skies after all."

[quark_assassin]

Dustin resumes staring at the ground, scuffing his feet on the rooftop as Felwinter assesses his work. Personally speaking, he has never missed an important deadline before, nor has he been given a task more critical than, say, homework projects. But he's heard what happens to people on his adopted mother's team that missed the mark. Part of science is finding out what doesn't work, Dustin can imagine Rose telling him. But when you're given a job, that's not the time for science. Your bosses will want results - find them.

So when Felwinter appears to go out of his way to justify a job completed, the boy is understandably surprised. He glances up sharply at the warlord, squinting at the use of a full name that he's still getting use to himself, trying to assess if this is some kind of trick. But Felwinter is as inscrutable as always behind that helmet. Eventually, with utmost caution, Dustin reaches out and carefully accepts the maps.

"...That was my backup," he says, unrolling the papers and shuffling through them with a quick, but thorough scan of his eyes over each. "Would've taken at least a year to get enough accurate data to make anything useable, though. And that's assuming this planet isn't on some kind of highly eccentric orbit that takes multiple years to complete a single cycle, or its star isn't being flung out of the galaxy it came from or something. There's a lot of weird shit to consider."

By the time he finishes talking, Dustin has gone through each page and rolled the bundle up the way he found it. He offers the papers back to Felwinter.

"Here. Technically I don't need to keep these." A corner of his mouth twitches into what might be a wry smile. "You should hold onto them in case anyone else needs them for future expeditions."

[tyrants_son]

Felwinter offers nothing more, waiting until Dustin finally takes the maps. If he regrets anything, it's that he hasn't thought to observe the movement of the stars for the time he's been here. His attention had been more focused upon the unnatural that might come from the skies, but that threat has not followed him here, though he still can't help but watch for the potential. He nods.

And then Dustin hands back the maps. Felwinter's helmet only moves but a few degrees as he looks from them to the boy holding them. He takes them, his unseen gaze resting upon Dustin a little longer before he nods.

"Very well." He puts them away, stepping back. "Then our business is concluded."

[quark_assassin]

Dustin nods back, that faint smile still lingering on his lips morphing into something a little more confident. He can't deny that he's starting to enjoy working with Felwinter. The guy is hard to read, but his no-nonsense demeanor, willingness to compromise, and desire to press on the bounds that the Agrii have put on them - it all resonates quite well with Dustin's own personal goals here. Time will tell if all of that's a well-crafted ruse and the warlord actually plans to stab him in the back later. He hasn't completely ruled out that possibility yet.

"Sounds like it is." Taking Felwinter's cue, Dustin disengages by walking over to the campfire on the other end of the roof. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me. Hopefully whatever I make next time won't be a complete piece of crap."

[tyrants_son]

The warlord looks over the broken compass again. Since Dustin hasn't asked for it back, he's going to keep it.

It seems to him Dustin can only improve after tasting failure. He quietly notes the offer with another nod, and turning, he ventures towards the closest edge of the roof to make his exit.