revivalproject | March Catch-All

Entry tags:

March Catch-All | Network/Action

WHO: Dustin, Barrys, various people
WHERE: Network, Sh'Ka, Temba, all over the place
WHAT: Dustin discovers some stuff and complains about it. Also, he's building things again.
WHEN: Through the first half of March
WARNINGS: Dustin. Will add as needed.

1. Network | Video/Text | OTA

[It's nearly impossible for Dustin to think of a situation where broadcasting his location, live, over an Agrii-monitored network, could possibly be a good idea. Nearly impossible. But this planet is always full of surprises.]

[This is one of them. The camera cuts on to show Sh'Ka's iconic palace - or where it should be, based on the unusually large patch of short grass growing here amidst the massive trees. What remains instead is a giant pile of rubble. The camera pans around it for about thirty seconds, in complete silence, to show the scale of the destruction before shutting off.]

[Captioning it, in Dustin's characteristic pithiness: ]

What the fuck happened here?

2. Sh'Ka | Closed for Barrys

The Palace had been an incidental observation on his way to a greater project - something that Dustin has had in the works since last fall, actually, and was forced to put on hold when the winter's snows kept him isolated to Temba. Barry intel.

The 'hive' of Barrys he's been focusing on seems to be an especially active one that lives in the walls of Sh'Ka's Agriculture Building, and Dustin is pleased to note that the colony's drones are still alive and stomping around after Agra-10's deep freeze. His offerings today are perhaps lackluster compared to the ones he's left in the past, but unfortunately he has to make due with the small winter and early spring berries he's scavenged on the way here, with a handful of dried summer fruits to supplement. The small pile is left next to a trail Dustin has observed the workers frequently using.

Then there's nothing else to do but sit back several feet away, crouched in the shade of a young fruit tree, and wait.

3a. Workshopping | Closed to Donatello

The lack of snow and warming temperatures mean that Dustin isn't nearly so restricted in where he goes and what he gets done, but that hardly means he's avoiding his typical haunts. If anything, his workshop requires special attention right now; his telescope motor needs to be finished and installed when the nights are still cool and clear, while still avoiding patches of ice or snowmelt mud that could hinder its transport. That window is rapidly approaching and won't stay open for long.

It's one of those days of harried work, when he's spent hours fiddling with the code on his tablet, napped, snacked, then coded a bit more, losing track of what time of day it is save the little streaks of daylight streaming in through the boarded-up windows of his shop, when Dustin gets a single knock on his door. He straightens abruptly from his shrimp-like hunch over his communicator and waits.

Three seconds later, there are two more knocks.

Ah. Dustin hops out of the chair behind his workbench - what used to be a checkout counter - and strides to the door. "I hear you," he announces, loud enough to carry through the thick masonry walls. "Gimmie a sec to unlock the door."

A few extra manual locks have been added since midwinter. There's a series of at least five clicks, scrapes, and pops, then the door cracks open and Dustin peeks around to make sure it's Donatello on the other side.

3b. Demolition | Closed to Link

Finally, finally, the motor is complete. That just leaves the part Dustin had been dreading the most: Getting this fucking massive thing installed back in the stadium light he took it from. Getting it out and into his shop last year had been a production in itself, which is a lot of the reason why he'd been anxious about repeating the process in reverse. At least then he didn't have to worry about breaking it in transport last time - the thing already didn't work. But now it's got all kinds of delicate bits on it for precision lens movement and rotation, and Dustin's spent a lot of time on the initial calibrations while pairing it to the tracking program he wrote on his tablet.

He could have moved it again on his own, yes. Though the more he thinks about that process now, the more he's thankful for Link's offer to help instead.

Link will get that call in the early morning, about an hour before dawn, in the form of a picture of Temba's map sent to his personal inbox. The intersection between buildings Orange 8 and 9 has been circled in bright red. This, rather than his workshop proper, is where Dustin waits for Link to meet him, leaned against the rubble of Orange 8's walls and shivering against the lingering evening chill.

3c. Construction | Amphitheater | OTA

Once he and Link have extricated the motor from his workshop, rolled it to the Amphitheater, and reset it in the modified spotlight housing he left behind last fall, that just leaves getting the newly-minted telescope working again. Dustin spends the next week more or less living here to get this done. A decent chunk of that time is spent just cleaning up the old observation room he stayed in last year, and scrubbing the rust and debris off of the spotlight after three months of neglect.

Then, testing. Hours upon hours of testing. Some of this Dustin can do during the day, where he calibrates the motor and lenses by sighting in distant objects at the edges of Temba, but a lot of it has to wait for nightfall. Then he can start combining his mental star maps with his makeshift tracking software to have the telescope follow stars across the sky. This is a more passive process, where he sits back, takes measurements of the telescope's current position, checks the sighting scope and compares it to the observation piece, sometimes makes adjustments to one or both, then breaks to scarf down some dried Baconroom and wait for another thirty minutes in silence. It might seem like tedious work, but the entire time Dustin is practically vibrating with excitement, even if someone unexpected shows up in his workspace. Eight Agra-10 months of planning and naked-eye observation are finally paying off.

5. Spores | Various Locations | OTA

Dustin's final task for spring is one that happens between all the rest, generally when he's going from one location to another. The shortest path is always the preferred one, of course, but this month he's been going out of his way to take odd routes, circling areas that people don't frequent often, where he spots new plant growth starting to sprout with the warming temperatures. And where he goes, Dustin carries a jar with a sieved lid, filled with a powdery, partially aerosolized red substance. He pauses periodically to tap the jar over these islands of greenery, makes sure that a fine mist coats wherever he stops, and then, apparently satisfied with his work, continues on his way.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Barry, who had been about to leave Dustin to his task, expecting the Gifter to figure it out and then bring the offering to the usual place, was definitely given pause by the request to stay. So it sat itself down, thorn-sword at its side, as it waited and watched.

Unfortunately for Dustin, his attempt seemed fruitless. The prodding and batting wasn't causing any of the fruit to fall.

Well, damn - looks like he'll have to engineer an answer to this after all. Dustin scowls briefly at the stick in his hand before shoving it into the edge of his satchel, then he crouches down to the patient Barry nearby. He could tap a response with his feet again, but he doesn't trust his ability to communicate finer points with his toes over his fingers.

[Will return. Have a better solution.]

[I should wait?]

Because maybe it should, but really, does it have to? There are other things they should be doing.

Dustin is bad enough at reading social cues when it comes to humanoids; trying to discern the Barry's impatience is, therefore, totally out of the question. Thankfully for the little soldier, he's also very preoccupied with his task and doesn't actually care if someone is around to supervise his progress.

[You don't have to,] he taps with an impulsive shrug of his shoulders (and also his fingers, somehow). [Won't take long. Before sunset, at the latest.]

Well that made more sense. Taking a while would be reasonable. It took them days.

[Bring to place gifts have been given. Will have watchers waiting for you.]

Dustin taps a curt acknowledgement of these instructions, but doesn't waste any more time on pleasantries or other such unnecessary drivel; he promptly stands, verifies that nothing has fallen out of his satchel or pockets while poking around the trees, and then walks quickly away from the Agriculture center.

The idea Dustin has for a more appropriate tool isn't complicate enough to warrant returning to his shop in Temba, thankfully, so there's no need to catch the train or flag down Echo for a shuttle. He already has plenty of basic tools packed in his bag, he knows where the best locations for scrap are in Sh'Ka, and an image in his head for what pieces he needs from them. The longest part of the whole process, then, is just travel and construction, taking the better part of a couple hours and interrupted by a snack and nap break between them.

Dustin arrives back in the Agriculture center right as the sky is starting to redden at sunset, as promised, except now the stick used as a bludgeoning instrument earlier has been modified with various bits of rope, levers, and salvaged metal clamps in order to act as a makeshift fruit picker - or rather, the stick is now bracing two pieces of metal pipe drilled into it, since his spot welder is a little too big to move cities with him, but the concept still works well enough. The contraption easily adds another four feet to his extended arm and has a decent grip to it. Hopefully this is enough to pluck one of those ripe, golden fruits off of the higher branches of this tree.

Indeed, his contraption would be well suited to collecting the higher fruits. The first he would try to grab would sadly rupture, bursting into golden goo. But repeated attempts would lead to the proper delicate touch to collect a number of the riper golden fruits.

So the first attempt ends in disaster and some of the fruit goop clinging to his shoulders and hair (which he anticipates will be an absolute bastard to wash out later), but Dustin's abilities are at least good for helping him quickly learn from his mistakes. Soon enough he's collected his bounty: Three ripe, golden fruits for an offering, an additional one intentionally burst into a glass flask and stoppered for later analysis, and a less-ripe fruit tucked into his satchel to see how it behaves off of the tree. The makeshift fruit picker is threaded through the loops of the bag's strap for easy transport, then Dustin collects his haul and makes his way back to the predetermined Barry meeting location, a little stickier than desired, but triumphant.

Most of the Barrys were gone by then, Dustin's offering gathered and taken away. Only a few warriors remain, talking with quick stamps of feet and taps of thorns as they wait. The one who had set Dustin to the task turns to the Gifter as he approaches.

[Did you manage?]

Dustin pauses to gently tap out his answer with the tip of his shoe. [See for yourself.]

Then he kneels down, one-by-one picking up a golden fruit from the sling created from his outer sweater layer and depositing it on the ground. He tries to wipe his hands off on his jacket before trying to communicate again, but that only makes them tackier, so he gives up and just accepts that he'll have dirt stuck to his fingertips until he can shower in the shuttle later this evening.

[Can get more,] Dustin elaborates. [Have a tool now, not difficult. Might be able to make something similar that your people can use, too.]

Indeed he had managed, and for a while there was a looking around amid the warriors. It was not normally their task to carry things back to the colony, and this was a silent power struggle. At last a small collection of them gathered the fruit and started off, leaving behind the one that had been speaking to Dustin and the smallest of the Warriors.

[Come now to speak to the Queen,] stomped the one that had been dealing with the Gifter until now.

[If you can make a tool for us, the Queen will like that more,] the smaller said with quick steps before starting forward with the first speaker. Clearly Dustin was getting an honor guard now.

[Adding it to my list,] Dustin taps, before using his talking hand to push himself back off the ground so he can follow. This is, from his perspective, hardly a priority - the fruits appear to be some kind of luxury good rather than a necessity, and he's got plenty of other, more critical projects to work on instead - but it's not an idle promise either. Plans for a sort of lift-and-pulley contraption that can be remotely operated without marring the tree itself are already churning through his head, keeping his attention split as he carefully trails after the two Barrys.

What list that was they didn't know, and they really didn't care. Instead they focused on their walk, which led them and Dustin to an area between the greenhouse and the distant estate. In time the Barrys came to a stop by one of the buildings and most of them disappeared through a hole in the wall.

[We made walls secure against many things. We will bring Queen to you. Wait.]

Dustin makes a mental note of their location before he settles into a kneel on the ground, with the apparent intent of waiting for the Queen to come to him. It might save some time to come here directly when he next needs to speak with them - and he's sure he will - but he can't be certain that the Queen actually lives in the walls of this specific building, or if it's just a protected corridor to somewhere even more secure. The chances of him figuring that out without provoking suspicion, retaliation, or both are slim.

It takes another twenty minutes, but soon the Warriors are coming back out in mass, forming a protective cordon around another Barry. This one is larger than all the others, and wreathed in a crown of colorful woven grasses.

[You are the Gifter. You have made the cold season easier upon us. And they say you brought the fruits. We are told you brought questions.]

The events that unfold are all within expected parameters - the extended period of time to fetch the Queen, the large assortment of escort Warriors that accompany them, the Queen's appearance. Dustin doesn't do anything special to greet them except to quickly snap out of his idle, pondering meditation when the first of the Warriors start streaming out of the hole in the wall.

No, what actually catches him off-guard is what the Queen says to him. Dustin had simply assumed that 'Gifter' was a hastily-coined name the Barrys near the Agriculture building gave him when they realized he could talk back; the concept that it was assigned a whole season and a half ago, because his petty gifts of dried fruits actually made a tangible difference on the health of the colony? Somehow that possibility had never occurred to him. An odd feeling swells in Dustin's chest, momentarily delaying his reply as his speaking hand wavers on the ground in front of him.

Then he quickly shakes the errant emotion away, forcing himself to focus. [Yes,] Dustin taps hurriedly. [Many, if you have the time for them. Spoke with the Eldest Tale Dancer of the Frond-brothers. They mentioned your people's history goes back further than theirs.]

[Far further, and more accurately,] the Queen confirmed. Even as she spoke a portion of the honor guard warriors broke off with almost impossible unity and fluidity.

Perhaps the Dictionary wasn't entirely wrong on calling a group of Barrys a hive. This close to the Queen the ones that moved did so as a single, fluid mass. They were, perhaps, responding to an unspoken cue, or a mental order.

[It comes from written language of course. Our records can be more static, and possess greater details than the Fungi-species dances. But each does their own thing. Some of our flowering kin record their histories in the very genomes of the plants they tend. It's an intriguing method, but one could argue that genetic degradation via natural mutation and all.]

Workers were arriving now, pulling with them mounds of tried needles. They sat down and were soon weaving what would prove to be a chair. Another one brought a great staff for the Queen, so that she could speak while seated, the thing specifically made to allow her to create all the needed percussive tones.

[Sit, we will speak. I would offer you nutrients and hydration, but the colony could not support a meal for you. Forgive us.]

It's one thing to read about something and anticipate how it works in real life, but it's another thing entirely to actually see it in action; that thought is one of many spinning through Dustin's mind as he watches the Queen's Warriors and Workers function as an unspoken, fluid unit to carry out her will.

Pheromones, most likely. Telepathy? Have we seen examples of their writing anywhere? How many replicator rations would it take to build a gene sequencer? Dustin's eyes widen and his pupils dilate like a cat's. They have fucking genome editing tech?!

Wordlessly, Dustin rocks off of his knees and folds his legs in front of him, barely giving himself enough time to get his fingertips back on the ground before trying to tap a response.

[I brought my own food,] he says, almost as an afterthought, then nearly trips over his own fingers in his excitement to ask, [Have they noticed accelerated degradation of genome records following storm anomalies? Specific species of plants? Have you been able to reverse the process?]

Ah, good. The Berry Queen nodded her approval of the Gifter having brought his own food. It will make it less awkward.

[I cannot speak to their changes with the anomalous storms. Storms make the journey between colonies and settlements very difficult and dangerous. It is a rare thing that the Queens allow a mission between great different places. But I understand the Storms do not affect plants too far outside of the changed zones, as there are less non-native species to be affected.

As for us, we don't manage our charges quite the same way, so reversal is not our ends.]

Dustin's eyes glitter with interest. He'd theorized that the non-native species present in Temba and Sh'Ka would only radiate so far, considering how few of them are shared between locations (and how drastically they're affected by the storms, according to the Funfronds), so the fact that the flora outside of the cities do better is not surprising to hear. Something to keep in mind when he and Felwinter finally go exploring later.

What is surprising is the realization that the Queen is talking about a whole other species of sapient plant. 'Flowering kin' wasn't just a reference to a specific Barry tender - that's an entirely different civilization somewhere outside of the cities she's talking about, and apparently has collaborated with at some point. How many...?

With a start, Dustin realizes that he shouldn't just be speculating about this internally. [--How many others are there?] he asks, then quickly elaborates, [Civilizations native to this planet, I mean. We cannot travel far, either, so we've only encountered your people and the...Fungi-species.]

[It is presumptive of me to suggest a number, for my people know only those that we either share lands with, or who are nearby.]

So it's not really something to be offered to him.

[I know of four, including ourselves. You may not wish to interact with our flowering kin. Their speech is by scent, and you do not seem equipped for this.]

Dustin's face falls, though he can't be too disappointed. Long-distance transportation and communication don't seem to be any of these plant-based civilizations' priorities, so it makes sense that they'd only have knowledge of their immediate neighbors. On the other hand...

[Something I can fix, maybe,] Dustin taps with a shrug. He's already been ruminating on a spore-interpreting device for better understanding Funfrond language - it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to build one for pheromones as well. Adding it to the list. [And the fourth?]

The workers finish their weaving of needles and the queen Barry perches on the low chair. Finished with their task the workers leave once more.

[Needle-kin. They mind the trees that do not drop leaves to the north. We trade regularly with them, but they do not like animals greatly. Too much nibbling at their shoots and bark.]

Dustin nods slowly and his hand mirrors the action in a sort of rocking bob of understanding. Coniferous forest of some sort - the description sounds right for it, anyway.

[And you?] he continues, electing to shift the conversation away from the other sapient plants. As the Queen has already pointed out, there's probably not much more she can realistically tell him about them anyway. [What have your interactions been like with animals, before me? The Elders of the Fungi-species mentioned a disruption to your people near the beginning of their history. Tunneling?]

Really? That was the question he would ask? She gestures to her warriors as if to say 'what do you think our history with animals is?'

[Yours are the first thinking animals we have encountered in my generation. But yes, there are stories, written histories of when the tunneling happened. It altered things greatly, but we are not a people who settle below, so we cannot speak to it as much. Only to what was written.]

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