revivalproject | Hypocrite Hours

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Hypocrite Hours

[text | A few hours before sunrise]

[So Dustin doesn't get out much, which means that the fact that he's been missing for about two days probably hasn't been noticed by anyone (except maybe Tommy, who is likely wondering why he hasn't been around to swipe more food and do the dishes). The signed notes delivered via Funfrond might have raised a few more eyebrows. But when Dustin is permitted to leave the Warrens so he can grab his possessions and bring them back for safekeeping, and he notices that his communicator has a connection to the Network again, he is uncharacteristically loud about it.]

I fucking hope all of you are awake right now to read this
get up get up get up
pack your shit and get the fuck out of here
No time to argue, just fucking listen

[A minute or so later when he actually emerges from the mines and gets a whiff of the sulfur in the air: ]

holy shit
this is so much worse than i thought it would be
WAKE THE FUCK UP AND GET UNDERGROUND

[And then about ten minutes later - deciding that just caps-yelling over the comms isn't good enough - there's a piercing BEEEEP from everyone's communicator as Dustin's impromptu emergency alert app that he's just made pushes a notification across the Network. At least it links to his post so people woken up by it can yell back at him.]

[Action | Up until eruption, southern Temba]

Meanwhile, Dustin is not taking his own advice.

He'd told himself while he was writing those notes - pack light - that he would be strong enough to make sacrifices. Items could be rebuilt; wasting his time, emotional resources, and possibly risking his life over something replaceable was not only reckless, but also extremely stupid. Only idiots would act on such sentimental impulses.

Except, Dustin has vastly underestimated just how much of a sentimental idiot he can be when it comes to his own projects. At first he resolves to only take his exosuit and a satchel full of high-energy, nonperishable food. Then he adds a couple of backpacks of Replicator-rationed tools into the mix. Then, estimating that he still has some hours left, he decides to try and secure what must be left behind as best as he possibly can. The Telescope in the Amphitheater is first on that list, removed from its housing and hauled to the most secure-looking room on the bottom floor. After that, it's back to his workshop to further board up the windows and doors, move everything against the inside wall, make a casement around them with furniture and non-volatile metal. Maybe he can dig a temporary basement? He's trying that now, too, the sounds of an improvised jackhammer ringing out from an otherwise nondescript shopfront in the southeast.

It's getting very close to the point of no return. But Dustin is committed now, and although the tremors are growing frequent enough to make him stumble and the air hurts to breathe, he can't leave. Not yet.

((OOC: Also good for Dustin to run into anyone already parked at the entrance to the Warrens when he comes barreling out of there, or any other wildcards people have in mind!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He doesn't need to breathe, he can survive the most extreme of climates, so of course he takes it upon himself to do last minute sweeps.

He hears the unusual sound before Felspring points out thw blip on her radar- someone still out here. Felwinter makes a beeline for it.]

It is time to leave!

[He shouts, a note of uncharacteristic urgency in his voice as he pounds a fist on the shop door.]

[Oddly - though Felwinter probably isn't aware of how unusual this is, having never visited himself - the door is unlocked and unlatched. It swings open as soon as Felwinter puts any force on it.

[Inside is an absolute mess. This, unlike the door, is not unusual, but it's a lot more of a chaotic mess than Dustin normally allows. He's roughly sorted things on the floor into attempts at triaged piles, most important to least, with some bags already packed of the most critical items, but his priorities keep changing. What if he actually needs that pile of pre-tempered scrap metal for something?? He can think of so many uses for it. Surely it can't go to waste.

[Dustin himself is, as the sounds from outside suggested, in his exosuit at the far, inside corner of the shop, makeshift jackhammer just now winding down as his wide eyes fix on Felwinter in the now open doorway. The hole he's managed to dig is respectable, but not nearly good enough.]

I--ten more minutes!

[With nothing barring him entry, of course Felwinter steps inside. He isn't sure what to make of the assortment of things that fill the shop, optics roving over them, but not his priority.

He locates Dustin easily enough, weaving his way over and around the boy's collected detritus.]

It is unwise to remain any longer than necessary. What are you trying to accomplish?

[He's not being judgmental, he is genuinely asking, of course. Dustin never does anything without reason, although Felwinter questions his timing. He suspects it is to do with last minute preparations, but they are running quickly out of such minutes.]

[Not trying to be judgmental, but the question still manages to get Dustin's hackles to rise on instinct. A lot of that has to do with the fact that he's been asking the same question of himself and doesn't want to answer it.]

Cellar. Storm shelter. I-If I can just make it deep enough, I can--it should protect from the worst of the eruption. I can come back for all of it later.

[Said like he's trying to convince himself of this excuse more than Felwinter, because he is.]

There is not enough time. Your safety is more important.

[He could theoretically clear out quite a bit with a Nova Bomb, but as the name suggests, it isn't something one used for delicate operations.]

I can carry some things if you absolutely need them, but we must go.

I can't.

[Dustin is surprised (and a little embarrassed) at how much of a petulant whine that comes out as, but he can't help it. He struggles for a moment to try and figure out how to explain it away.]

You want me to pick stuff? My whole life is in here, Felwinter! I found and made all of this for a reason, I can't just leave it!

[He gestures, flustered, at a pile of assorted tools.]

Like--I can't leave the tools because I won't be able to work the supplies. I can't leave the supplies because then I won't have use for the tools. You know? They're connected, that's--that's why I have them.

[The warlord is silent, but Dustin has his full attention. When the teenager gestured to everything around them, he looked, trying to see more than piles of random objects.

Things take time, and Dustin has spent a considerable amount of it here. What is all that if it is suddenly wiped out in the blink of an eye? Starting over... He knows how overwhelming that is. He knows how overwhelming it is not to know what purpose you have either, when you have nothing.]

...I understand. But all of this will be of little use if you do not preserve yourself.

[He turns his head back towards Dustin, removing his helmet.]

You made a life for yourself. You wish to protect what you can of it. But you can't forget that you are the center of it, and without that important piece, this is all nothing.

If the tools survive and you do not, there is no guarantee that someone will find the same use of it as you have. If you must start over, then at least you will have something to start with, and you don't have to work alone.

[He steps towards the space that Dustin has been desperately trying to dig into.]

I can't condense the Void into something that won't be guaranteed to obliterate everything in its path, otherwise clearing this would be simpler. Even if I managed to control it tightly enough, you would still have a very large hole.

Do you believe that creating a cellar is feasible with the time we have? You must choose. I know it's difficult. But I am not going to leave you, whichever it is you decide.

[At first it seems like Dustin isn't willing to listen. He tsks in annoyance, turns away and practically stomps his robotic feet as he stubbornly hefts the jackhammer back upright. But he doesn't get back to work. Felwinter never removes that fucking helmet unless he has to - unless he's trying to prove a point.

[Dustin listens. Answering Felwinter's question feels like he's stabbing himself in the gut.]

...No. It isn't.

[He's going to have to leave it all to rot. A sudden wave of emotion crashes through Dustin's chest; he knits his teeth and sucks in a breath, quickly scrubbing an arm over his eyes to wipe away the tears that have welled up in their corners. Sadness, frustration, anger - it's like he's committing to losing a part of himself, and it hurts. But it's better than dying under a ton of ash with it.]

Okay. Okay. [Deep breath. Dustin clenches his jaw as he tosses the jackhammer aside.] Fine. What can you carry?

[Felwinter waits. He's good at waiting. In whatever subspace Felspring occupies, she is silent, knowing the Exo won't budge until this matter is resolved.

And then Dustin finally makes his decision. Internally, Felwinter is relieved. Still, he waits until Dustin readies himself as best he can, and when prompted, the Exo looks around.]

If you have a large enough container I can carry whatever you can store in it, and perhaps a separate piece of equipment besides.

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