revivalproject | Hypocrite Hours

Entry tags:

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

Radley is alarmed by the damage and is grateful Dustin was wearing the exosuit.

“Sure.” He grabs a heavy pipe and stands, trying to use it as a lever.

There's not a whole lot of room to work with, but it's enough. Dustin braces himself with a few quick breaths; he knows this isn't his real leg, this shouldn't hurt, and yet he can't help wincing at the sudden release of pressure and spike of static up the back of his knee when Radley levers the rubble off of him.

"--Okay--okay, stop stop stop," he pants, raising a hand. "You'll shift the whole thing if you keep going. I-I've got it. Just--fuck--"

Dustin pulls himself forward with a groan, arms trembling. The thought briefly crosses his mind that it would be easier if he just ditched the suit entirely, but he discards it just as fast. After his whole shop has collapsed, and he's forced to leave behind so much already - Dustin refuses to make any more compromises. The suit comes with him.

After a bit of pained wriggling, Dustin finally manages to pull his leg free, quickly twisting onto his back so he can get a little more distance between him and the offending rubble. "--Okay. We're good. I'm fine. Shit, that was close. Fucking hell."

Radley stops, still tense, waiting to see if Dustin can really get out. When he does, he relaxes some.

"Close is an understatement," he says. "We have to get out of here before anything worse happens!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dustin grumbles. It's stupid that he's so self-conscious about getting stuck, about having all of Radley's attention on him, about wasting time because he was too dumb to know when to leave. He's grateful, at least, about how the dim light is probably masking the flush of his face. A quick scrub with his soot-covered palms hides anything else.

But enough of that. "Give me a--just a minute," Dustin insists. "Thinking."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to ignore how the ash and dust disturbed by the falling roof is clinging to the inside of his throat, the groaning of the rubble overhead. Then his eyes dance for a moment. Mentally, he's reconstructing each section of the ceiling, calculating based on what he saw during the collapse where the largest chunks have landed and what might still be above them. Then it's a matter of estimating shear forces, simulating outcomes based on moving different sections...

About thirty seconds of silence later, Dustin suddenly twists to his left and points at a section of rubble at the edge. "--There," he says, rolling onto his knees. "You push on one side, I'll get the other."

Radley waits worriedly, studying the area and wondering himself what the best exit point is. He nods slowly when Dustin comes up with something, not planning to argue right now. He goes to the section and moves to push.

Dustin shuffles his way over as well, clearly wincing with every drag of his leg. The phantom pain from the suit is getting a little easier to isolate, at least, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to deal with.

On the plus side, Dustin's calculations are spot-on: He and Radley give the rubble a firm push and, in spite of its size and apparent weight, it topples backward in a cloud of ash. Dim light streams in through the gap. The workshop - what remains of the workshop - is in absolute disarray, consisting now of mostly rubble and some remaining standing walls surrounding the perimeter. Dustin is suddenly relieved that he left his bags of unambiguously important items on the outside rather than by the door.

He scoots backwards, gesturing for Radley to go out first. "I can hold up anything that shifts out of place," Dustin explains. "Should be safe, though."

Radley is so relieved to see the light. He sighs happily, but then frowns a bit at Dustin, giving him a searching look. "... Alright," he says slowly, only agreeing because of the suit and assuming it grants such strength. He steps outside and then looks back, waiting for Dustin.

Dustin holds that look with absolute, stubborn confidence. He knows what he's capable of, and he's...reasonably sure that opening up that hole hasn't significantly disrupted the stability of the rest of the pile of rubble they're under. Eighty percent. It's good enough.

He doesn't give Radley any room to doubt that, though, staying silent as he exits first without issue. Dustin follows suit a moment later with a stagger and a breath sucked in through his teeth when he stumbles upright. The air is thick and oppressive, motes of dust clinging to the inside of his nose. He can see the shimmering shield overhead starting to flicker ominously.

Dustin turns to give Radley another quick glance over and assess his posture. "Sure you're not hurt?" he asks. "We need to get out of here. Quick."

All notes of doubt have been thoroughly scrubbed from Dustin's voice. Something about nearly being buried alive, probably.

Radley relaxes much more when they're both out.

"I'm fine," he says, not about to mention the knock on the head or the bruise. Hopefully they won't be a problem. It's not a delay they can afford. "Let's go."

He moves to start off.

Dustin is not a doctor and Radley seems more than eager to leave, so he doesn't argue. "I'll be right behind you," he calls, quickly limping in Radley's tracks.

Yet, still, Dustin pauses after they vault what's left of the front wall. He has a few bags and boxes of gathered materials waiting - everything that's left to salvage from his shop. If he leaves it all here, it'll be destroyed, for sure. Dustin twists a couple of times in uncertainty, winces. Then hurriedly starts hefting backpacks over his shoulders, trying to juggle boxes. He can't let all of this go to waste.

Radley pauses when he doesn't hear footsteps immediately follow. "... Can you really carry all that?" He doubts it, and he's not sure how much more he can carry when he has lots of supplies as it is, but ... maybe he could take one box....

"Yeah," Dustin says on reflex. Then he looks over the remaining two boxes, and the fact that he's barely able to juggle the ones already draped in both his robotic and actual hands.

His face scrunches in a wince. "...No," he admits a bit quieter. "Okay, fine, I don't--I guess I can leave...ugh, but this one has all the glass--"

Radley winces. "... I might be able to take one box, but probably not the glass...." That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen when he's loaded down as it is.

Flustered and desperate as he is, that's all Dustin needs to hear. "--Okay, fine," he says, taking the box currently in his real hands and shoving it towards Radley. "I can carry more anyway. This one isn't delicate."

Radley takes the box and tries to balance it with his supplies. He thinks he can make it okay. "Alright, let's hurry and get going!"

"Okay, okay--" Dustin hurriedly picks up the box still on the ground, wincing at the sound of shifting glass against metal. Paces a quick circle.

Am I really ready to leave this all behind? There's no guarantee that they'll ever come back, or that if they do, there won't be anything left for him to try and salvage. The last Agra-10 year, for nothing. It fills him with such a bitter rage that he could just sit down and cry.

But another flash from the sky and rumble of the earth through the soles of his suit's boots gives him other ideas. "--Yeah. Going. I know the way."

Before he gives himself more time to brood over it, Dustin spins on his heels and starts jogging towards the mines.

Radley is really hoping the whole place won't be decimated. He wants all of their beloved things to pull through.

"Good," Radley says. "I haven't been there yet myself." And he hopes he won't get lost, but it would definitely help to have someone there who understands the place already.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hypocrite Hours

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject