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.

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It's a strange thing. Donnie's never really had that problem simply because his siblings did not have the same interests as he did. Well, there was that one time he did experience the annoyance of having them go through his things without permission but that may or may not have been due to something he had done and the solution had been quite clear to fix.

The softshell looks up from his screen before recalling just what Dustin had been doing. He lowers his communicator, moving back towards the motor.

"Sweet, fire this baby up and let's see then!"

Given time to simmer and focus on something else does wonders for Dustin's mood, especially when that 'something else' involves showing off something he's built. A little bit of that enthusiasm he showed, back when the two of them had been talking about this project in the Agriculture building in winter, flickers across Dustin's face, glittering in his eyes and twisting the corners of his mouth into a small grin.

"Alright, give it some space," he warns, flicking his finger over his communicator to bring up the control GUI. It's not pretty, but that hardly matters - the only person Dustin expects to use it is himself, so he's the only one that needs to know how it works. "I've done a lot of fine-tuning to make sure nothing overcorrects, but I don't wanna take one of your arms off or something if it swings around too fast."

He doesn't wait for Donnie to actually move before he presses the button for 'startup.' Immediately there's an audible clicking noise as the motor cuts on and draws a surge of current from the wall plug Dustin has modified to accept it, quickly followed by a soft, persistent hum from the motor itself. A few mechanical bits outside of the motor proper spin up alongside it, but otherwise, the whole display is a little underwhelming. Too quiet for its size, almost.

Donnie knows that grin. It's a tiny reflection of his own whenever he's ready to see the results of something he's put some hard work into. Usually he's playing to an audience of himself, and while there's still always the satisfaction of a project coming to fruition, ultimately he still knows what should happen. Watching someone else's project come alive is a new dimension of eager anticipation.

He steps back, quickly estimating how much space will keep him well clear of the motor's range, a little more hastily with the added warning from Dustin. Talk about unpleasant!

A minor moment of disconcertment as the motor hums from the obvious activation and intake of power. True, it doesn't seem to display much, but nothing sounds like it's grating or threatening to overload, no telltale whine even from its small movements to suggest that something might overheat. The quiet is an acceptable quiet so far as Donnie can tell, and it's evident that he's listening from the slight tilt of his head, and the approval from the smile pulling across his face as his eyes rove across the motor in its entirety.

In spite of his better judgement, Dustin sneaks a look at Donatello to see what his reaction is. He shouldn't need anyone else's approval for his projects, and yet here he is, unconsciously seeking it out and feeling a rush of satisfaction at the subtle, but nevertheless evident curiosity and acceptance visible on the turtle's face. His smile turns into a grin before his gaze locks back on the control panel.

"Startup complete," Dustin announces. "Initiating calibration..."

With another button press, the motor's low hum transitions into a series of mechanical whines as, one by one, pairs of actuators come to life and run through their paces. Some of them have little test rigs attached to them to simulate the parts of the telescope that they'll move, while others are simply too big for this to be feasible and just rotate in place.

As it goes, Dustin settles into an enthusiastic ramble. "I want to add this into the startup protocol later, but I need to run some practical tests in its housing first to make sure my tolerance bands aren't too wide," he explains. "Most of it's being modified from the original spotlight casing, so. I can't be sure what the Agrii had in mind for its intended use and lifespan, but I'm pretty confident most of what I'm doing is outside of their specifications."

That's definitely where they differ. Donnie's never made it much of a secret to want approval or praise for what he can do. He's been more so fixated on getting it from adults, but naturally there's a limitation for that sort of expectation when you're a teenage mutant turtle whose only consistent interaction with adults aside from your father are perhaps eighty percent mutant and yōkai enemies.

Donnie straightens up as Dustin sets into the next phase of the motor test, his own grin broadening as he watches the continued movements. "Of course. But considering that it's stayed in relatively usable condition for however long this place has been abandoned and still holds up under your modifications? I'd say it's gotta be pretty durable at least. Looking good so far, definitely."

Dustin chuckles ruefully with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, you didn't see it when I brought it in here," he says. "First month was just cleaning the rust off so I could figure out what the different parts even were to replace them. Seventy-four percent of this bastard is brand new construction, and that's not including the peripherals."

With one last, simultaneous whirr of gears, the telescope motor homes its parts and then falls back into gently humming dormancy. A couple of error messages pop up on Dustin's communicator but he flicks them away - the primary rotators are expecting load from the casing, and without them aren't finding the correct, anticipated zero position, but that's a problem that he'll resolve once the motor is actually installed.

"-oh." Donnie's expression wavers into disappointment for all of a split-second before he gives a shrug of acceptance. Fair. "Well I guess I should have expected as much... anyway, congratulations, you have a functioning motor so far as I can tell."

He holds a hand out towards the structure, still well out of range to really touch it, but he's trying to see if there's any heat build-up since the thing had been turned on. That's something he can better gauge with his goggles, which he tips down as he directs his attention back towards the motor itself.

"Of course I do," Dustin says with a click of his tongue. As if that was even a question - he wouldn't have shown off something that didn't work, unless maybe he expected Donatello to help him fix it, and he's still on the fence about just how capable the turtle is when it comes to engineering problems. He's smart, sure, but practical? Hard to say.

This is something Dustin puzzles over with more scrutiny as Donatello leans in to investigate the now idle motor. It's definitely warm, even from a distance, though quickly bleeding off heat into the cool spring air; these kinds of electric motors tend to generate a lot of thermal energy very fast, and while Dustin anticipates that the small movements the telescope will perform won't increase that to dangerous levels, he's kept the design open to allow for as much heat transfer with the environment as possible. It could probably do with some extra heat sinks, though.

Dustin watches this analysis with an arced eyebrow. "...What are your goggles calibrated to scan for?" he asks several seconds later.

"Whatever I want it to," Donnie answers smartly. "But really, it picks up signals, energy and heat readings, has night vision and infrared, gives real-time analyses- well, that part would be better if I had a proper network hookup." He waves a hand dismissively as he resumes studying the motor as it cools down.

"Oh, and mystical energy traces. I know, not very scientific but it's been very useful. Also helps me see right through any mystic-based illusions. -well, doesn't look like it's overheating, everything's within acceptable levels provided adding the actual attachments won't build up stress or cause obstructions for proper ventilation."

Dustin's brow rises incrementally the more Donatello explains, and not because he's started to talk about magic - he's long moved past the idea that magic can't be real or explained in scientific terms.

"Why the different colors?" he presses, indicating both sides of Donatello's goggles with a point of his finger. The note about his motor overheating isn't commented on, but it is internalized for future reference. "The lenses, I mean. Are mystic illusions visible in anaglyph 3D?"

It's hard to tell if he's being serious or not.

Edited (repetitiveness bleh) 2023-04-06 14:21 (UTC)

"Completely unrelated to the mystic anything, those were part of the original design. Simple answer, red and blue make purple." His delivery makes it equally difficult as to whether he's joking or not, but that's all Donnie volunteers.

He flips his goggles back up, considering a moment as he glances back at Dustin before he actually slips the headpiece off and offers it over for him to try. Look, he'll let others play with his toys ~~sometimes~~. And indeed if Dustin tries them on, he'll find that things are very purple, and while the personal choice may be questionable, the readouts however are nothing to scoff at. Notably there's a few errors that scroll off to the side though it seems to be regarding the lack of a connection of some sort.

Dustin's expression flattens, even as he tentatively reaches out to accept the goggles for inspection. "Aesthetics, then," he murmurs, putting his communications device down on the workbench so he can turn the goggles over in both hands, then holds them up to his eyes - first the wrong way around and from several inches in front of his face, squinting critically at the lenses, before flipping them around so he can actually look through them (albeit from a half inch away; he still doesn't trust that they won't do something Weird if he straps them on). Some seconds go by while his eyes flicker, drinking in all of the readouts.

Then he passes them back without fanfare. "Custom software?"

"Of course! Most of my tech is built from scratch and programmed by yours truly," Donnie says, looking every bit proud of it as he takes his goggles back. Maybe just a tiny bit disappointed for the lackluster reaction, but then he supposes Dustin doesn't know that he doesn't normally pass his goggles off to anyone either.

He sets them back into place on his head, raising a hand as though to tap something on his left wrist before remembering that there's nothing there to do so. With a sigh he drops his arms, looking at the floor clutter by his feet before he brings his attention back towards the running motor.

"So um...now what?"

Dustin doesn't seem to hear Donatello's question; he's still staring intently at the goggles now perched on his head, head titled to the side and hand pressed against his chin while he thinks. The motor is no longer at the top of his list of things to talk about.

"...I could connect them to the local network, probably," Dustin murmurs through his fingers. "Wouldn't have nearly the same functionality as a modern Earth-based internet connection, and you'd probably have to modify the software to account for limited access, but it's not impossible."

Donnie had thought that subject had moved on, so he's not quite sure what to think when he notices Dustin looking at him. It's a little unnerving, really.

When the older teenager finally does speak up again, the turtle blinks. He coughs. "Well, obviously the network here has much to be desired in terms of functionality and what it has to offer but..." Understandably he has his concerns about hooking his goggles up to something like that, but that's only part of it. Dustin would fully understand, maybe. After all, the other had been quite touchy about him poking through the stuff he'd made. Letting Dustin see his goggles was one thing, but having anyone do anything more is...well, quite frankly unheard of, although mostly due to no one really having the capacity to do so back home. ...save for that one time when he thought it would be a brilliant idea to make the rest of his brothers smarter but that's besides the point.

"I would've myself by now but I'm lacking in my usual hardware and am not so sure how much I trust freebie tablets..." he complains instead, though not necessarily shooting down Dustin's offer.

Understanding Donatello's reticence, Dustin can definitely do - getting him to intuit it without saying anything directly, however, is an entirely different matter. Without that context, Dustin sees Donnie's hesitation as purely practical.

"Fair," he huffs with a shrug. "Even with knowledge from the Communications data point, there's still a lot of dubious network security protocols that are hidden from me that the Agrii are using. I try to keep any wireless connections as brief as possible, so that I can see between pings if anyone is using my hookups to do something, or transfer information, that I don't want. Not foolproof, but it beats analogue."

Then - perhaps to Donatello's relief - Dustin changes the subject.

"--Whatever," he says, waving away the conversation with his hand. "The software for the motor acts mostly as a glorified controller with tracking, which isn't exactly practical to show off while it's on bricks. I'm in the process of creating an internal database of celestial objects based on my observations over the last year. Once that's done, it's ready for install."

"It'd be better if we made a separate network. How feasible is that?" Donnie starts to wonder. A lot of work, certainly, but he doesn't think it'd be impossible. "So the communications data point isn't simply used for...communicating then? Hm." Something to note, certainly.

While Dustin's knowledge imparted isn't anything he brushes off, the turtle's still good for a subject change, and as they round back to the motor, he casts a look at it again with a nod.

"Understandable. And impressive- I mean, perfectly sensible but still, impressive." He tries not to think about that timeframe. He's only got a couple months under his belt and not looking forward to adding more.

"Not infeasible..." Dustin murmurs. A whole, separate network, with its own security protocols and access channels? He's sure the Agrii could still access it somehow, given that he'd be piggybacking off of the existing network connections and hardware to do it, but it might catch others - like the Atroma - off-guard, at least for a little bit. The gears in Dustin's brain churn for a few seconds, working through plans for how to build and implement this idea, before he forces himself to shelve them for the moment. Another project for another day.

Besides, he's got Donatello's praise to worry about. "I...sure," Dustin says, glancing away as he rolls his shoulders. He's never quite sure how to deal with this kind of stuff. "Astronomical observations are important when we're on an unknown alien planet and its moon has a habit of growing a face and screaming at it, so. It needed to be done and I did it."

Donnie-praise is as rare as the praise he usually gets. Were they in reverse positions he'd gobble it up eagerly. The uncertain response from Dustin just baffles him.

"Right, the moon..." He makes a face at the reminder, glad he's not yet seen it for himself and hopes he never will have to. "You say it needed to be done and yet no one until you showed up has set out to do it. So take credit where credit is due." He grins. "This is no small feat. I hope I'm invited to the inauguration of your telescope."

Dustin's shoulders stiffen and he pointedly doesn't look up, but the way his face reddens and the corners of his mouth twitch gives away the fact that Donnie is having an effect on him, in spite of Dustin's best efforts to brush him off. By the end of it, he's actually, physically trying to wave the turtle away.

"Okay--enough," he groans. "There's not going to be an inauguration and you'd better not make one. I'll...send you the program to automate its controls when it's installed, or something." Dustin glances up with a look of sharp skepticism. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Figured as much. Private party's not bad, at least we don't have to plan out a canapé spread."

Donnie blinks and then grins at the apparent offer Dustin's making then- to which he then flinches back from when the other turns that look towards him. What is with this guy??? All these emotional whiplashes are really draining to deal with.

"What? No! I wasn't even thinking of- look, it's your telescope. I figure you'd be the only one who wanted to be able to operate it, and I totally understand- I get a little bitey if anyone tries doing anything my stuff."

Dustin is unconvinced, obvious by how he impatiently bobs his head and rolls his eyes several times as Donnie backpedals.

"Yeah, yeah, nothing but pure and innocent scientific curiosity of course," he tuts. Unlike the last time Dustin heel-turned on their conversation, his tone is just tired - exasperated, even, like he's trying to explain something that a child should know. "Everybody wants shit out of everyone else, Donatello. You don't have to pretend like you're above that or whatever. It's just easier if we toss the pretense."

The softshell looks stunned for a moment before he outright glares, clearly offended.

"I've been there, I know. Get all buttered up and then they steal your cool gadgets and threaten to toss you into another dimension for entertainment.

"But how dare you accuse me of wanting to take advantage of someone else like that. One, I don't need your brains or whatever you've come up with, I can probably do anything you've done myself. Two, I never had my sights set on building a telescope. I've got more important things to do like work out how to get back home."

Betrayal hurts, and unfortunately he doesn't know how to deal very well with it. He's not the greatest with the whole emotions thing, and in this instance his instinct is to lash back out in response.

Donnie shuts his mouth before he can throw any more gasoline on the fire, stalking his way back towards his stuff by the door. He really, really liked being able to be on the same page as someone but clearly he can't even do that on an alien planet.

Dustin, for his part, is genuinely surprised by the severity of Donatello's reaction; he's used to his more blunt assertions causing people discomfort or annoyance, but the turtle is taking this a lot harder than that. As for the reason, he says it himself - it's personal. Dustin can empathize, even. Maybe, if he was in Donnie's place, being accused of the same things, he would have reacted exactly the same way.

But Dustin's emotional comprehension has always been too reactionary for his own good. His momentarily confused expression warps into one of indignance, then seething anger.

"You think I'm doing all of this for the hell of it?" Dustin snaps at the back of Donatello's head, even as he retreats for the door. He doesn't make any effort to follow him. "Well I'm sure as fuck not doing it to impress you, or anyone else. Fuck you, fuck your empty praise and your sanctimonious horseshit, and piss off!"

He's...he's already leaving, but. It's the thought that counts.

"I KNOW WHY YOU'RE DOING IT!" Donnie snaps back. "You're just a different kind of jerk."

He grabs his jacket and his tech-bō, not bothering to put the former on as he glares down the door. He could just blow this thing open. He feels like it'd be justified, but that's the emotional chaos talking and he's trying to shove it in a box because no one's here who understands him to help him deal with it.

A button on the length of the staff pops it open to feature an impossible amount of gadgetry that's been somehow jammed into it, compacted and yet still somehow able to function. A gout of flame puffs from an apparent flamethrower, but he retracts everything in favor of a single buzzsaw. And applies it to one single lock on the door of many.

Petty.

The metallic clink on the floor seems to satisfy him to some degree (no it doesn't), and he compacts his staff completely before swinging the door open and stepping outside. He yanks it closed again with all his might because a door slam seems a necessity in this situation.

Edited 2023-04-21 03:05 (UTC)

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quark_assassin - 2023-04-23 21:25 (UTC) - Expand

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