Dustin Silver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quark_assassin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2023-08-10 12:57 pm
quark_assassin) wrote in revivalproject2023-08-10 12:57 pm
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!))
[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!))
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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--"
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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.
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"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.