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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Good enough. [Still,] Dustin directs. Then, slowly, he removes his communication hand from the ground so he can better maneuver the strip of paper into place. He doesn't want to alarm the creature - based on his observations on their first meeting, he gets the impression that the Funfronds sense vibrations through the ground much better than the air, or seeing movement in general, so removing his primary connection to the earth might disorient the little fungus. Not much other choice, though. At least Dustin has careful fingers, used to working on tiny parts; he's surprisingly delicate and precise.

Disorientation is definitely a good description. The little Funfrond flinched away at the contact, and then clearly has to work to stay still. Afterward it remains very, very still, because that's what a Funfrond does when very scared and not sure they can run.

But it has to try. At last the Funfrond starts to dance a bit.

That's a decent enough start. Dustin's quick about getting the paper stuck and sitting back, giving his Funfrond companion some space to get situated and recover. Then he waits.

...The Funfrond still seems kind of uncomfortable. This is understandable, but Dustin finds himself feeling a little awkward just watching it try to dance anyway - like he should be encouraging it or something. The dance is one that he understands shouldn't be done in isolation, or so stiffly. It's like watching someone lecture to an empty room.

So Dustin contributes in a way that he thinks is appropriate: He stands his hand on the ground again and mirrors the dance.

Well, that seems to hearten the little Funfrond some. Sure, it's not quite possible for Dustin's hand to properly pantomime the performance, but it puts a bit more energy in the Funfrond. Though it does, from time to time, seem to shudder.

It's the sensation that makes it feel awkward in this, but in the end it does finish and comes to a stop. If it is still, perhaps the other will remove the paper.

Good enough.

[Still,] Dustin directs again, and reaches forward for the little strip of paper. He doesn't waste any time checking to see if there are any visible spores on it - any excess exposure to the elements risks blowing away his sample, or worse, inhaling it - instead quickly depositing it in his empty flask and corking it shut. Only then does Dustin indulge himself a glance from the outside before storing the whole thing safely back in his satchel.

His hand goes back on the ground. [Should be all needed,] Dustin assures the nervous Funfrond, before addressing the other part of the colony's proposed deal. [You had danced, 'teaching of where putting spores?' How?]

The Funfrond seemed to stand straighter when it wasn't having paper stuck to it. The whole thing shuddered and a small cloud of spores rained from it. A different sort of course, meant to convey the specific form of its disgust over how what had happened had felt.

[Show you where we have done spores. You help put other places.]

One day, Dustin resolves, he'll get samples of all the different Funfrond spore types so he can communicate perfectly with them. Today is not that day. He's got priorities, and this particular Funfrond has clearly suffered enough.

[Yes. Wait.] His other hand goes into his satchel and retrieves his tablet, which he places on the ground so he can single-finger swipe his way to the Temba map. [Can show here?]

That would be hard, as there was theoretically no limit in what the spores could be like.

The Funfrond comes closer to look.

[What is thing?]

Dustin can't be too surprised that the little alien mushroom creature doesn't know what a map is - or potentially even what a tablet is. Maybe both? Dustin's brow furrows as he realizes that this could take a while.

[Shows places from up high. Here--] He points out the Greenhouse. [--Big Sun Box. Here--] This time, the large mine entrance north of town center. [--Where talking now.]

And so on and so forth. Dustin goes through all of the major locations he thinks the Funfronds might find relevant, including things like the Hangar and the Memorial, giving them names that translate the most effectively in the creature's dancing language.

Oh yes, a very long while. The little Funfrond moves closer to inspect what it's shown, and seems very shocked and pleased at what it finds. Though it clearly needs detailed descriptions of places for it to recognize locations. After all, it's used to seeing things from a very different angle. With each description the Funfrond tries to explain where work needs done.

Given enough time it can finally piece together the areas for Dustin, showing that the work of its colony had mostly worked the area around the greenhouse and city center but hadn't spread far from there. There was so, so very much work to be done.

Though when the Memorial is indicated the Funfrond stops and shakes its cap.

[Histories there. Safe. Always keep safe. Sacred place.]

Dustin is surprisingly patient, with a few hiccups where he gets exasperated with repeating himself and starts reaching for increasingly more esoteric descriptions to try and work around the gaps in his Funfrond communication skills. But it's worth it in the end, to see the scope of the colony's work - and to hear more about the Memorial. Dustin allows himself to indulge his curiosity.

[Pictures there, Funfronds on them. Did the colony make?]

[Rememberings of us. Make and keep. Broken, before these Animals come.]

Which was met with a very sad posture to announce.

Dustin does not meet that revelation with sympathy, but rather with interest, tilting his head while his hand rests.

[Found some. Put back, others missing still. Who took them?]

The little mushroom wilts a bit at that, the whole cap sagging around its stalk.

[No knowing. Happen in wrong storm.]

Curious - that would imply that either something came during a storm and took the pieces, or the storm itself spread them to Eorzea (at least, the ones they found). This is a whole other can of worms to open, and Dustin's curiosity only grows stronger the more he looks into it.

[Remember what kind of wrong storm?] If the Funfrond mentions a screaming moon, Dustin is also going to scream.

[Wrong Storm.]

No amount of prompting would draw more answers than that from the Funfrond. There were only wrong storms and correct storms. Classification was not this little one's goal.

Dustin attempts a few more dance combinations before giving up and moving on to explain other parts of the map. It was worth a try, but this likely happened well before this particular Funfrond's time anyway; trying to pry it for information it and its colony didn't experience first-hand would be uninformative at best and a waste of time at worst.

Once they go through all of the points of interest in Temba, Dustin closes the map and stows his communicator. [Colony works out. Animals work in,] he determines. [May take some moons before false spores built. Contact as needed.]

[So we fix this, you help later?] the Funfrond asks, looking confused. Apparently it hadn't expected such large things to move so slowly.

Dustin frowns in consternation. [Yes,] he replies; whether or not his agitation for being called out about the speed of his work comes through his dancing hand is debatable, but that's definitely how he feels. [Unless you have a faster way. Synthesis takes time. Much studying needed.]

Ah, yes, there is that. The Funfrond droops a little then bows its cap in a clear gesture of disappointment. But that can't be helped.

[Must return to colony. Much work to be done for wrong plants. Need ... dancing.]

Dustin's frown grows deeper. Unrealistic as it might be to get this done any faster with the resources he has available to him, Dustin still looks at that obvious disappointment in the Funfrond's body language as a personal failure. He's been tasked with a project and it cannot be delivered in the timeframe required - this is unacceptable, but sadly, also unavoidable. Maybe if he just puts a little more time into it than he'd originally planned, works a bit harder...

Disappointed in himself, Dustin sends the Funfrond off with a curt dance of parting, abruptly stands and wanders away, taking the precious jar of sample spores with him.

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Plants are the Worst

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