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Post by Zenjesi on Oct 26, 2024 20:41:22 GMT -6
There was no time to delay. Zenjesi corrected their aim at the last moment, and buried the hoe in the pumpkin instead. The vine on their arm suddenly slackened, and so they repeated the attack again and again, hacking at the pumpkin with the hoe. The orange liquid was splattering wildly with each strike, though in their panic and frenzy, they did not realize the implications of this until it was complete. At last, the pumpkin fell still. The vines all collapsed to the dirt limply. The Wilde shook himself free.
Then Zenjesi felt something drip from their forehead to their cheek. Sweat? They swiped at it with the back of one hand. No. It was orange. A thrill of fear ran up their spine. Whatever this fluid was seemed to give the pumpkins life, but it had brought death to the other things it had come into contact with.
Zenjesi: 0.1
The Wilde: 6.2, 12.4
Investigation: 31
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Post by Zenjesi on Oct 27, 2024 10:47:23 GMT -6
Could they feel their skin sizzling beneath this substance? They could almost swear that they could see the edges of the smear on the back of their hand reddening and darkening and -- No, that was simply the color of the liquid fooling their eyes. They took a cloth from their bag and wiped their hand clean. There was no mark left behind. "I am no plant." They exhaled a sigh of relief. They had not intended to become the test subject for this mysterious substance, yet it had worked in their favor in this instance.
And what a benefit it was. Now they knew they only needed to mind the soil. They could become as filthy as required to complete this task. But... what was the task, exactly? Zenjesi began to work on piling the remains of the pumpkin into the wheelbarrow. It was to understand the pumpkin phenomena, was it not?
Zenjesi: 0.2
The Wilde: 6.4, 12.8
Investigation: 32
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Post by Zenjesi on Oct 27, 2024 19:58:10 GMT -6
It had not been said that they were required to resolve the phenomena by themselves. The wheelbarrow wobbled precariously as the satyr pushed it over the thick vines that criss-crossed the garden. With a slightly unpleasant splat, the shell of the pumpkin was deposited on the paved path. Zenjesi's eyes turned up and saw, now with greater context (and thus, dread), the sheer scope of the infestation. No, there was no way they would be able to contend with every one of these on their own. Not individually, anyway.
Though they had learned a few facts about them, the question of how these pumpkins were able to detect their targets so readily remained. That could be their next line of inquiry. Though, Zenjesi was going to exercise even greater caution with this third pumpkin. Each of the prior two had simply proven that they were easily underestimated. But first, the first pumpkin would also be extracted from the garden.
Zenjesi: 0.3
The Wilde: 6.6, 13.2
Investigation: 33
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Post by Zenjesi on Oct 27, 2024 20:06:05 GMT -6
That seemed like the least they could do, considering that many of the plants within the plot had been withered by the pumpkin's death throes. Working quickly, Zenjesi collected the pumpkin and its accompanying vines, piling them all along the walkway. While they worked, The Wilde stood guard as their sentinel. What a strange one he was. But they had felt a kinship with him the moment they laid eyes upon him; they almost believed now that he had felt the same.
There was no sense in delaying now. On to the third. With some careful experimentation, Zenjesi began to examine and test the pumpkins' senses. They did not seem to respond to visual stimuli alone. That was somewhat of a relief to the satyr. Touch did seem to be a factor, which made the second pumpkin's refusal to engage with their touch all the more unnerving. But it also seemed they reacted to sound.
Zenjesi: 0.4
The Wilde: 6.8, 13.6
Investigation: 34
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Post by Zenjesi on Oct 27, 2024 20:24:16 GMT -6
Zenjesi wracked their memory. Had they not been muttering to themselves or The Wilde in the proximity of each pumpkin? They pressed their tongue into the back of their teeth. There would need to be no more of that. But for now, they had a much more pressing issue: all of their experimentation had roused the ire of this third pumpkin. A wet, tearing noise followed from the pumpkin itself while another vine found their leg. Zenjesi was expecting another onslaught of seeds, but the opening that was splitting across the pumpkin was much larger. It cracked along the side like a jagged, carved smile.
The pumpkin began to urge Zenjesi towards this makeshift mouth, more of its vines seeking and tugging. While Zenjesi was taking up the hoe once more, The Wilde acted. He threw himself atop the pumpkin, and with a few well-places hoof beats, he punched through its hide and flattened it.
Zenjesi: 0.5
The Wilde: 7.0, 14.0
Investigation: 35
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Post by Zenjesi on Nov 1, 2024 21:30:09 GMT -6
Well, that was not their preferred outcome, as now this garden's soil would be tainted as well. But it was equally if not more so the truth that they would not like to be consumed by a pumpkin at this time. They hoped that the garden's owner would forgive them this. "Good work, Wilde one," they whispered to him, lowering the hoe before it was able to be applied. At least this had been educational.
Once the remnants of this pumpkin were relocated to the pathway, Zenjesi paused to consider their options. It certainly seemed as if the orange liquid within the pumpkins was somehow activating them, but where had it come from? Was it naturally produced by the pumpkin as it grew? That still failed to explain how they had all arrived here, evidently overnight. Still, that did lead them to another thought. Zenjesi glanced around, a movement that was not at all not suspicious.
Zenjesi: 0.6
The Wilde: 7.2, 14.4
Investigation: 36
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Post by Zenjesi on Nov 1, 2024 22:37:32 GMT -6
There did not appear to be any witnesses, but they were not certain they could be a good judge of that. After all, the pumpkins were listening. But... They glanced down to the remains at their hooves. This one was not listening. Zenjesi crouched, pulling a second vial from their bag. Carefully, they extracted approximately one dozen seeds from the shell and slipped them safely into the glass. This was what they had been told to do, was it not? They were meant to conduct research. Surely their supervisors did not expect that all of their answers could be acquired in the field alone. The satyr tucked this vial neatly into their bag once again.
Now that they were aware of some of the basic properties and strategies of these pumpkins, they ought to press further. They and The Wilde would surely exhaust themselves if they attempted to remove each one.
Zenjesi: 0.7
The Wilde: 7.4, 14.8
Investigation: 37
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Post by Zenjesi on Nov 4, 2024 22:54:13 GMT -6
The satyr opened their mouth, hesitated, closed it again. Though their voice was only ever a whisper, it was evident the pumpkins were quite sensitive to even those soft sounds. Instead, they extended a hand, gently resting it upon The Wilde's shoulder, and urged him forward. He fell into step beside them with a sharp exhale of acknowledgment. Reflexively, Zenjesi glanced to the pumpkins nearby. They were motionless. This was inconclusive. Still, they were moving on.
Could the pumpkins communicate? Could they speak to one another like mushrooms? This was a thought that had not occurred to them until now, and what a question it was. Their mind shifted to the vial of seeds in their bag. Perhaps not all of them would be brought to their employer's attention.
But as they and The Wilde picked their way deeper into the garden, they discovered their path was becoming hindered more often than not.
Zenjesi: 0.8
The Wilde: 7.6, 15.2
Investigation: 38
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Post by Zenjesi on Nov 5, 2024 23:19:34 GMT -6
Avoiding contact with the malevolent plants was presenting an increasing challenge. Nearer the outskirts of the garden, the pumpkins had largely been contained within the plots. Now, the vines were spreading and creeping across the path and between tree branches overhead. The further they walked, the denser they became. Farther still and the vines were not at rest, but moving, twisting and slithering along the ground like serpents. It seemed somewhat sinister, as if they were seeking out their next prey, perhaps, or even patrolling their territory.
Still, the two carefully proceeded. Once, Zenjesi plotted where they would place their step, glanced to the side for a mere moment, and heard an alarmed snort from The Wilde. They turned back in time to see their hoof about to enter the open, jagged mouth of a pumpkin that assuredly had not been there a moment before. The satyr gave the Gallor an appreciative pat.
Zenjesi: 0.9
The Wilde: 7.8, 15.6
Investigation: 39
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