They were too dangerous to keep. He had no idea of their value, those pulsating crystals that he'd gone out and bought on a whim. He made the right decision. Flare examined the money he had been given for his wares. For all of the pusating objects, he'd made a fair offer. For when he had given his entire collection of fresh and dried flowers for the crystals, not to mention the grass samples, they did add up to the amount he asked for in money. The silver coins were strung through the hole and tied together to avoid loss. The coins would go into his meager pile for saving up for things. That is if the person who was giffting him things stopped. He came back to his garden to find a pile of supplies, and a full set of mining gear. To expand his hobbies, they said. 51 11.20
On one hand, the generosity of this individual seemed to know no bounds. The same scripted writing in strange Common letters. The other hand, Flare didn't exactly...like this sort of generosity. Such generous folk in Tumai seemed to return later when the interest of the gift had built to the point of nonavoidance. To collect and make the giftee miserable. Nobles gifting a 'favorite' merchant then forcing them bankrupt later on with interest of buying their wares for nothing. Humans and ssa alike, ...'real' ssa, held a lot of worth in trade. The drake sorted through the supplies; it was everything he really needed to do any sort of gardening here in the city. Even to take care of his new bonsai collection. The teapots were positioned on a pair of sturdy produce crates, flipped upside down. One side had a hole torn out of it, for burrowing creatures. Like Monarch. 52 12.20
Life in the Pethian city revolved around being a monster keeper of one sort or another. Almost every humanoid he'd seen in his time here had a creature, or smelled of having one. Anything from the size or smaller of a mjusi, to a larger then cow-sized beast of burden that resembled a reptilian cow with a shield glued to its face. Rumors of something being bigger then that who ate the giant lizard-cows, one by air and one by sea. Flare didn't trust bodies of water. The lack of proportion in his limbs made it useless to try and kick his way around anywhere. No webs between his fingers or toes either. His wings were just that; useless and tatted. From what he'd heard from others muling around in the library, there was a massive building called a 'kennel' that seemed to endlessly expand for spaces for animals and people who couldn't afford their own land. He had enough for his needs; his tent, and his plot of garden. There was enough space for one. 53 13.20
The drake didn't show any desire to even BE a monster keeper. He'd no pets as a child, and no pets were allowed in the Core; Tumai didn't have service animals for the disabled. Most of his creatures were shoved at him or dumped in his lap. Or just caught at one point or another. However, he never said 'no, I don't want them'. Flare had a good guess what happened to strays here in the city; if it wasn't swift enough, they were thrown into the pit for the gladiators. None of his 'adopted' would survive in the pit. He'd been there. Only a trained gladiator would last more then a round against those unbroken sarane. He'd been away from the pit, and still held a smidge of guilt in his gut over leaving the raptor drake behind. He couldn't break the beast though. Physically Flare didn't seem capable. Not like this. 54 16.20
Too easy. The chaotic being mused while floating about in limbo, watching the drake putter about his garden, avoiding humans, avoiding the world, and avoiding IT. The pendant around his neck, the one with the tooth, an eye into the other world. If the drake pulled at it, or messed with the thing, he automatically forgot about it. Being like this really drove the thought of the mounting protests of safety versus freedom through his head. For his safety, he avoided everyone. For his freedom too, not once but twice regarded as a common Labs beast, or the mythical dragons of yore further to the east. Even managed to offend the Binder to sending her enforcers at one point. This wasn't a natural born ssashirk, and the chaos creature knew it in spades. Such menial tasks such as pulling weeds or clipping bushes or even rearranging those teapots with trees eating them... it would drive any sane creature mad. Right? 55 17.20
Not really this one; Eventually the seasons would turn and the plants who weren't winter tolerant would wither and die back. Their dried leaves and stems would be composted and used to make fertilizer for next spring. There was always something to do in the garden. That, and he had a plan to eventually find some rocks or something to make little raised beds. Or wood would work too. Some woods resisted burrowing pests better then soft woods. The woods that he could see outside of the labs walls were a mix of conifer and deciduous. Conifers were good hard woods but he didn't have the strength to saw down a tree of his own. There had to be a lumber mill somewhere in this city, if they had a quarry, there was certainly a lumber mill. I mean, look at what they do with steel! He assumed it was steel anyhow. 56 2.20
More mushrooms though, as one day came and Flare cleared the leaves with his rusty rake from around the big old oak. Recently the temperatures dipped with a fierce windchill that swept through the city. Objects not tied down blew around everywhere. Pachee and not pachee scurrying away from the leaf devils that tried and failed to steal his bucket or his other supplies. The tree swayed and creaked, occasionally dropping small branches. Flare understood that wind could dry out your plants very quickly, which made sense for the drier plants up on the ridges of the red wall canyons. They got the painful drying treatment first. The only thing really to do was clear what came down. As long as no major branches came falling down, Flare didn't mind the work. Gave him an outlet to put his mind toward. Clearing leaves, clearing branches, depositing them into the compost crate. He peeked in there once, those fat pink worms that Castor seemed to love eating after somehow cooking them... 57 3.20
The fat pink worms made themselves right at home in the compost, eating and making more worms and repeating the process. As the composting broke down, the worm casings? castings? maybe even just droppings made excellent fertilizer to mix with next years soil. Occasionally it had to be turned over with a pitchfork, or with his hands. Hands did the job with the last resort; granted picking worm casings out from under your claws wasn't a thing he wanted to think about. Its just soil at the end of the day, and a good botanist shouldn't be afraid to get his hands dirty. Literally. More mushrooms were unearthed every now and then, broken off at the stem carefully and put into his produce box. The dark conditions let them occasionally propgate small fungi as well, but nothing sellable. The mjusi would eventually be ready to harvest, right? He glanced at the darting black lizard with pink growths. He couldn't imagine it. 58 4.20
Would it hurt the mjusi to remove their mushrooms? Would the mushrooms grow back? Might be a thing to hold the little thing still and snip off the mushrooms instead of breaking them. Were there nerve points? Perhaps he should start handling the mjusi to at least convince it to tolerate being handled and touched. Still scurried away from him each time he got close. But it never actually left. How curious. Perhaps the book the 'bonded bloom' he bought had a few things to say about mjusi. What did the Warden and the human woman at the tavern say? M...moo... see...man..dr. Mooseemandr? Mushroom lizard? Mushimjusi? Flare's expression pinches as he tries to figure out how to pronounce the species that the mjusi was told to be; eye ridges creasing heavily over his large eyes while grimacing his jaw in an uncomfortable fashion. Seriously, how do you pronounce that word. 59 5.20
Frankly it didn't make a difference today. The mjusi had no interest in looking around at him, and as long as the creature was healthy and alive, that suited Flare fine. He should be working on how to take care of these creatures more then let them run wild. Sharing fruit and a few bits of grass and such with the orbaru who found fences something of a hinderance but could climb over them. The fluff hid tiny little clawhooks to help her climb up and over objects. Thick and stubby, like a fingernail. Fingernails don't climb, human nails were just too weak. They broke so easily. His own claws were very thick, but not really for digging... or were they? He'd not tried to dig through stone. Last thing Flare needed to do was dig out chunks of sharp rock out from beneath the claw. There were quicks in those claws and they did end up hurting if pierced. 60 6.20
What really was with him and habitually being drawn towards cats? Cats, in his opinion, could care very much less about himself. But here he was, with another 'cat'. When sized to Pak the pachee, this small creature just looked... small. More like a mouse or a... rodent with a fluffy tail he could not recall the name of. Something that the merchants used to sell to young women who 'looked in need of a cuddling companion'. He'd recall the name sooner or later. The creature was brown, like Pak, with a leaf growing off its tail. Sleeps in the winter, blooms in the spring, and fruits about now. So take good care of it, the old woman had told him after taking his carrots and giving him his items. Likes nuts. Nuts? Flare didn't have any nuts persay. Nuts were a food you needed to crush and grind to eat, and the grinding part his jaws don't do. 61 11.20
Short of having a mouth, being smaller, no fern on the back or a segmented tail, someone could've told him that this was a pachee, and Flare would've likely believed them. The scatter freed itself from his grasp at last, hopping easily to the ground. Really was pretty small, almost like a young cat. Looking around, sniffing the earth where it landed. Several, several creatures live here. Not to mention the giant who had brought it here. Scatters are prolific creatures, and quite social, from what he was told. Would do to have more then one, but the woman reminded him that it was 'one per customer'. Which didn't make much sense. Why, he wondered. Why were these creatures withheld in quantity? You could have a pair of labs beast of each variant, from a rumor he heard. Any more then two of a variant, and they would get into a dreadfully deadly row. 62 12.20
Silver: Check out the updates thread for character updates! This should be a big bonus for almost everyone so check it out!
Nov 10, 2020 20:03:40 GMT -6
Morgan: You too, Riku!
Nov 9, 2020 16:36:39 GMT -6
Riku: I hope everyone is doing well.
Nov 8, 2020 16:27:01 GMT -6
Silver: Wishing Well has rolled over! For anyone who received late rolls (ie just got their last Oct. roll), please feel free to post in the well for October items if you still need them. :3
Nov 7, 2020 6:25:48 GMT -6
Kadin: Vote for an icon for the discord!
Nov 1, 2020 18:48:32 GMT -6