Dustin Silver (
quark_assassin) wrote in
revivalproject2022-08-16 04:00 pm
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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]
2. Temba Hangar [OTA]
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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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."
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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.”
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“Not those in truth. But the storms always bring in facsimiles.”
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This much she has heard.
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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!"
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She does watch his struggles, a bit intrigued and wondering if it was okay to offer him more assistance.
“Do you require assistance?”
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"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.
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"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?"
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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."
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And she does'nt think it's fair judgement.
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"...How many data points do you have for that trend?"
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"How many storms have you experienced that immediately followed an otherwise exceptional event? Just those two?"
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"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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"Does seem consistent, yeah," he murmurs. "Would need to get a number for total storms since the first arrivals, contexts..."
Information that Lauri-Ell has made clear that she doesn't have. Dustin tucks the end of that thread away, instead tugging on another one.
"...You heard about the boxes? The sealed wooden ones?"
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"There was talk of them," she agreed. Not that she knew just what they were or meant. "Are they important?"
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"Yes," he says carefully. "I mean, I think they are. No one on Eorzea could explain what they were, and they were found in multiple, unrelated locations."
A beat. Dustin's mouth is left hanging open for a minute as his paranoia fights him on giving more details. But Lauri-Ell did save his ass earlier, didn't she? And she seems trustworthy enough - or at least, she's too blunt to be deceptive. He owes her some directness back.
"...And the one I found opened on its own when we landed in the hangar," Dustin eventually admits. "Why would something found on another planet respond to triggers here? Too much of a coincidence."
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"This is interesting. There were things hidden on other worlds before. I understand that the replicator came from a world called Risa, where a woman of the 'Vulcans' gave us a map."
So it was possible that this was like that. One of the scattered secrets.
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"The replicator," he repeats in a murmur. Dustin doesn't recognize the phrase, but he can infer that she's probably talking about the machine on his ship that makes food. Aside from noting that the 'Hero Supplies' box exists and not trusting it enough to use it, Dustin has not tested what the actual replicator device next to it does. That connection, therefore, isn't made. "What sort of map?"
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"And the Map on our Communication devices. Apparently it did not have labels before. The lady gave them to us. But that was before my time."
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Naturally, he's missing the mark here.
"...Lauri-Ell," Dustin starts, brazenly ignoring the fact that Lauri-Ell has not formally introduced herself to him, "do you have an Expertise?"
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"Yes. I am currently Medical. I have previously been Security."
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"How are you able to reprogram the replicator, then?" he asks incredulously. "I can't get into the one on the Palm Cottage at all."
This, said with the baffled tone of someone that definitely doesn't think Lauri-Ell is as technologically savvy as he is. If he can't do it, then clearly an Engineering Expertise is required to achieve a higher level of genius. Obviously.
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