revivalproject | Plants are the Worst

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Plants are the Worst

WHO: Dustin and you!
WHERE: Somewhere in the northeastern quadrant of Temba and the Hangar.
WHAT: Dustin does not take plants seriously until they make him. Later, he tries to talk to some mushrooms.
WHEN: Where the Wild Things Grow event, August 11th - September 8th.
WARNINGS: Someone needs to wash this boy's mouth out with soap and make him go to his room.

1. Northeastern Temba [OTA]

Dustin had plans. Key word, 'had.' He'd come back from Eorzea with a wealth of new tools, unique chemicals, some potions - hell, even some clothes that were more tolerable in the heat and actually seemed to fit him! It's more of a haul than he was expecting and it leaves him returning to the ship genuinely optimistic about his projects back on Agra-10.

...Well, okay, most of those warm-and-fuzzy feelings end up being constructs of the Agrii and their incredibly effective compulsion abilities, but even after Dustin comes to this realization he finds that they're not totally foreign. For the first time in several years, he has a place that he wants to go back to and improve.

That feeling is what he's trying to focus on now.

It's hours later, back on the surface of Agra-10, Temba. What should have been the road south from the hangar. What it is instead is a miserable slog through too-tall grass and prickly bushes encroaching on just a bare sliver of exposed, cracked asphalt that winds through towering trees blotting out the summer sun, forcing him on a winding route with no static landmarks to speak of. The leatherworking knife he brought back along with his crafter's gloves help him slice through the more onerous vegetation in his way, but it's like he's brought a pocket knife to the heart of the Amazon. The walk is slow, hard, and annoying.

Maybe I can mix up something more effective back at the shop, Dustin considers, grimacing as he pushes aside a blanket of vines dangling in his face. Some of them are as thick as his arm - twitching like one, too. He has to step carefully over their piled-up and tangled mass in the middle of the road. There were a few reagents that had endothermic reactions with each other. If I can isolate the most efficient ingredients and find a way to amplify the cooling effect, maybe I could freeze out some of these irritating plant fuckers from the roots. That'll show 'em.

Something moves next to his ankle. Dustin glances down, just in time to see one of the vines suddenly start to tighten around his leg. He gasps in surprise and hops out of the way--

--Only to feel his feet drop out from underneath him as a mesh of thin roots masquerading as solid ground gives way. This was likely a natural depression made from rubble blocking the road that he just didn't notice under all of the plant cover. Interesting, he thinks, numbly, just before landing in a heap on the leaf-littered dirt at the bottom. The fall isn't far enough to injure him, but the shock and impact still leave him dazed for several seconds.

Then, Dustin looks up. The roots are growing back.

"--H-Hey! Hey!" he yelps in panic, stumbling upright on unsteady legs to scrabble at the edges of the pit. It's about eight feet deep and the sides (or at least, the side he's currently clawing at) are too crumbly to get a good grip with his fingers. "Wait! Fuck!"

2. Temba Hangar [OTA]

Several days later, Dustin returns to the hangar feeling a lot more prepared than when he left it. Not only was he able to make it back to his shop (eventually) and find it relatively unscathed from the storm, but also he has done something he never thought he'd consent to and picked up an expertise. These little mushroom guys - Funfronds, according to the 'Dictionary' - clearly have some kind of negative effect on the overactive plant life around them, and they're intelligent enough to be communicated with so they can discover why, potentially. Dustin feels confident he could have picked up their language with enough patient observation and time, however he is finding himself woefully lacking in both time and patience at the moment. Desperate measures must be taken.

So here he is, sweaty and exhausted from yet another long walk through the aggressive forest, back to where he remembers seeing the Funfronds when they disembarked the ships. There was a crack in the wall, surrounded by glowing moss...but surely he's not the only one chasing this clue here.

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Once he's got a grip on her, Lauri-Ell starts to haul him up. She rocks back as she does so, rolling her legs under her so she can move to a sitting position and get him higher up. And then he was free and beside her. Which led to her smiling at him.

"Are you alright? I am a medic. I can assist you if you have injuries."

As soon as his feet touch the ground outside of the hole, Dustin is doing is best to wiggle away from his savior and dust himself off. Some dignity must be salvaged.

"I'm fine," the boy snaps back, though he finds himself unable to meet Lauri-Ell's eyes to add any extra heat behind his words. Obviously this isn't true - his ego is quite bruised, but medical knowledge probably won't help fix that. "Fall wasn't that far. I'll live."

Oh. Very sharp. And quick. Like a stingbeast. Interesting. So many dangerous young men these days. Still, he doesn't need help so Lauri-Ell rises to her feet and starts to dust herself off.

"That is good to hear. Caution should be taken for walking here, the plants hide much. They are not worth trusting. Perhaps there are Cotati here now, causing this."

"Yeah, no shit," Dustin grumbles, although the fight is rapidly leaving him without anyone rising to the bait. Instead he simmers in silence. He'd like to just stomp off and pretend like this never happened, but Lauri-Ell has a point; this new forest is more dangerous than he gave it credit for. A longer fall, or a few spiky branches at the bottom? That could have ended poorly and with very little preamble. Maybe a second set of eyes and some muscle is what he needs to get back to his shop.

Grudgingly, Dustin turns to look Lauri-Ell in the eyes - pauses when he finds that he's roughly level with her chest, cranes his neck back - with a deadpan, albeit somewhat deflated expression.

"Where are you headed?"

Bait? She might not even notice bait. Besides, Tony had suggested she should not engage with aggressive behavior. So she just picks back up her hammer, massive as it is, and looks ready to go before he speaks up.

"I seek the origin of the things that attack. I wish to deal with them."

Dustin's brow crinkles. That's...somehow an extremely direct, yet also very vague answer. He doesn't doubt Lauri-Ell could do something to whatever is responsible, especially after she picks up that absolutely massive hammer like it weighs less than he does, but something tells him that she lacks some critical steps to get there.

"...Right," he says, slowly. "I think we all do. Do you have any ideas for what that is?" A beat. "--You said, uh. 'Cotati?' What are those?"

"The other species from my people's homeworld. They are evolved from plants, and can control them."

To her it was completely logical that the Cotati were responsible here.

...That isn't a totally unreasonable extrapolation. Dustin is willing to take Ga Re's explanation of a storm at face value, but it's also entirely possible that there's an intermediary - maybe the storm affected a local animal, which then gained the ability to control plants and is now using them to hunt, something like that. Maybe the storm drew on the echoes of Lauri-Ell's memories of her home for the sake of the transformation, like how he's heard they do to create phantoms of the people they know. All well within the realm of plausibility.

Dustin regards Lauri-Ell seriously, resting a hand on his chin. "What do they look like?"

"Bipedal plant people. They are as varied as plants themselves," she admitted. So sadly she cannot give more detail there. WHich is a failing. She sighs.

"If you see a walking, talking plant, it might well be a cotati."

Dustin is equally disappointed. "Noted," he sighs back, frowning. It's not much to go on, but then again, when was the last time he ran into a sentient plant that could talk? Never, that's when. The event should be distinct enough to draw his attention, no matter what it ends up looking like.

This doesn't mean Lauri-Ell doesn't have other, more useful details to give on this potential enemy, though. "How many would have to be involved to influence plants on this scale?" Dustin asks, accompanied by a small jerk of his chin to indicate that he wants to take this conversation on the road. No need to stick around the grippy vines and pitfall roots. "I would imagine at least two - one per city, given the distance."

No, it is not much to go on, but in Lauri-ELL’s mind, a Cotati is a very obvious figure. How many sentient plant people are there in the universe? Not many in her experience.

Granted, she realizes she’s not home anymore, which could mean things were less like he expected.

“On this scale? A collection from their mages would be the most reliable. More if it is only warriors. I imagine the Priests of Pama could do it more easily, but they are pacifists.”

"Enough to be noticeable, then," Dustin murmurs as he starts off down the road. He figures Lauri-Ell's engagement in the conversation is enough to get her to follow him, but picks up his voice anyway in case she doesn't. "Have the storms ever resulted in something like that before? Bringing in whole groups of entities from the same universe?" A beat. "Or at least, facsimiles of them?"

She does indeed follow. If a conversation is joined, she is not likely to let distance remain between it.

“Not those in truth. But the storms always bring in facsimiles.”

"Right - the shadows," Dustin clarifies, brow crinkling slightly with concern. He's only heard of them, but even the idea makes him nervous. "Do they have similar abilities to their true forms? Can they interact with anything?"

“I have not seem them interacting with anyone, save for the time they ran through me and they inflicted… bad memories of my past. But they do try to trick people.”

This much she has heard.

Dustin shakes his head. "Then I doubt some shadow apparitions of the Cotati are responsible," he determines. "Obviously the storms had a lot to do with this, but--"

He cuts himself off and abruptly jerks to a halt. One of his feet has sunk precipitously into a pile of underbrush, nearly halfway up his calf. Dustin shoots it a frown and tugs. His boot holds fast, like it's caught in thick mud.

"--maybe not with--" He kneels to give his shoe a firmer pull with his hands, growling with the effort and rapidly increasing frustration. "--extra-universal--summons--fuck!"

“Yes, it is obvious that it was the storms,” Lauri-Ell said, indeed because she believed in the Agrii no matter what others might think at times regarding them.

She does watch his struggles, a bit intrigued and wondering if it was okay to offer him more assistance.

“Do you require assistance?”

Images of Lauri-Ell hoisting him up by the underarms flash through Dustin's mind, moments before he quickly and vigorously shakes his head at her. Not doing that again. He'll starve to death stuck rather than be pulled out of danger - literally - for the second time in less than half an hour.

"I've got it." Then, as if he's not still almost knee-deep in plants, Dustin continues their conversation where they left off. "So, if not caused by a specific entity or group of entities, what else could the storms have affected to cause such significant overgrowth? I've heard of the shadows, mass hallucinations...chemicals? Atmospheric ionization causing some kind of flora response?..."

There's a beat. Dustin has stopped struggling and started scoping out his surroundings, and at this point located a sturdy-looking fallen branch. He grapples for it with a precarious lean sideways and awkwardly pushes himself back with his free arms and leg.

Yes, it is better to not require saving in the first place, is it not? Though one should not find their pride harmed when one must be assisted. Or such is her opinion on things. Which she supposed is not the opinion of most.

"The Storms might well have affected the plants themselves. Like... a strange sort of fertilizer? I think that is a thing. I am more familiar with the look of flowers, not the growing of them. I was not trained for a garden world. But minerals can be dissolved in water, can they not?"

"Sure they can," Dustin answers. "Although it would have to be..."

A beat. Dustin prods the end of the branch into the ground near his free foot, finding that the ubiquitous plant cover doesn't sag there like where his other leg is trapped, presses firmly on it and slowly leans backwards. A few seconds later his foot pops free in a shower of compost - and the rest of him stumbles back with it, flopping onto his ass.

"--Ah! There." Hurriedly, Dustin hops upright and brushes himself off. "Anyway--it'd have to be a fuckton of fertilizer for something like this to happen. Feels intentional."

"The storms come when we do things," she says after a moment. "When we learn things. There was a storm when we returned from Coruscant. When we investigated Sh'Ka. The storms seem to be judgement."

And she does'nt think it's fair judgement.

Dustin passes Lauri-Ell another one of those Looks - the one that says she might be onto something, and that concerns him.

"...How many data points do you have for that trend?"

"I am not certain I understand your question," Lauri-Ell admitted, frowning. WHat could he mean by such a statement?

...And the look's gone. It's replaced by one of exasperation, accompanied with a long sigh as he carefully steps around the sinking pile of leaves.

"How many storms have you experienced that immediately followed an otherwise exceptional event? Just those two?"

Don't be exasperated by a woman who doesn't know how to take these comments.

"Well, I have been here less than others. But there was one after Coruscant. One after we investigated, and then another after the Ren Faire. And now one while we were gone, which is interesting because it came after we found those boxes that people spoke of."

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