Fern (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
laminae) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-01-01 07:59 pm
laminae) wrote in deercountry2022-01-01 07:59 pm
Keep a running list of all your doubts and your dead ends
Who: Fern laminae and open.
What: Catch-all log for January.
When: Early January so far.
Where: Around Trench.
Content Warnings: Violent death, fighting, post-death blues.
[Fern can't figure out if this is the best idea he's ever had, or the worst. He's hit a point in his desperation where any idea, no matter how unlikely or ridiculous-sounding, is an idea he's willing to try. He is, of course, being driven by his love for Varian, his desire to see the person he cares most about in the world stop spiraling into the abyss, and he's well aware that making decisions ruled by emotions generally isn't the best thing to do. But at the same time they've tried so many other things - those supposed anti-corruption cookies, taking Varian out to socialize and have more company, indulging in his love of science - and nothing has worked. Varian has steadily gotten worse and worse, and that's why he's out here today. Before leaving the house he sent his boyfriend a quick text, deliberately doing so to make sure he won't get it too soon and try to stop him before he confronts The Tower.
At least he's brought someone along. Dirk was the natural choice for him, what with his godhood and experience with cosmic beings and his willingness to put up a fight. Between the two of them they have more experience with gods than most people, so if he has any chance at all of getting a solution out of Varian's Patron Pthmuerian it'll be with him. And if he doesn't, well, at least he tried. He tried and he'll find some other idea to try. He'll keep on trying until Varian starts to improve, and not before then.
(The idea that he might just fail, that Varian might get so bad there's no coming back from him and he might end up the Lumenarium does occur to him, but he refuses to actually entertain that notion. He's risking even more corruption himself if he does.)
It was at least easy to figure out which Patron was Varian's. The hideout during November, as well as Varian's personality and love of science makes it clear to him that it could only be The Tower. From there it was only a matter of asking around to find out where the most recent sighting of the Pthumerian was - a little plaza in Gaze near the School of Mutter, the area circled by ancient, crumbling statues and gnarled old trees. It's creepy and ominous but there he is, standing starkly in contrast to the other statues, looking as if he's been carved out of smooth marble. Several ravens have settled themselves on his shoulders, content to be resting there despite the chilly weather.
Fern's hands clench into fists and he has to resist the urge to form a grass sword. The familiar weight would offer some comfort, but he's here to talk, not attack the guy. So he glances to his side, over at Dirk.]
Oookay, let's do this.
[Fern's crystallized grassy remains in the little plant pot for the next few days. They don't do much, no rooting or responding to the grow light Luz has set up. The grass remains suspended in the crystals, still and silent, until one night when squid ink begins to leak out of the shreds of plant matter, through the crystal and into the dirt. What follows is a fairly quick process: the crystal cracks and breaks, and from the grass Fern's squid body remains. It only remains that way for a few moments though, suddenly overtaken by a whole surge of grass as Fern regrows the rest of his body, a large lump of grass that ungracefully falls off the table and onto the floor.
Smooth.]
[It takes him a little while to fully pull himself back together and feel some semblance of normal, but eventually Fern manages. He thankfully doesn't have the deathflu to contend with, so all it is is general exhaustion from having been dead and literally regrowing his entire body. It means that for the first few days of being back, he sticks near the house in Cassandra instead of going out to his usual haunts in Ache and Willful Machine, not wanting to worry anyone about overexerting himself.
He can generally be found up on the roof, always accompanied by one horse-sized black wolf who happens to be toasty warm. There's one huge upside to having a fire wolf for a friend, Hazel's proximity is perfect in fighting off the chill of winter.
If anyone approaches the house and enters the yard Hazel's ears will perk up, though Fern will give the wolf a reassuring pat on the head before waving.]
[The flyer sounds a little sketchy, but Fern remembers some of the kinder parties in Deerington, and honestly, the idea of hanging out somewhere supposedly safe from corruption sounds nice. Exactly the kind of thing at least half the Sleepers in Trench need after the situation with Varian, and even though he had been dead at the time that includes himself.
He can be found at The Red on various nights, dressed up in his outfit from Madam Generosity, a style that's a combination of viking and barbarian with one very furry, very cozy-looking fur cloak. Early on in the month he's more commonly found curled up in one of the giant cushions, drinking some soda, exhausted and recovering from his time being dead.]
[Later on in the month, when he's feeling more like his usual self, he'll be taking a bit more of an active interest in the talent and fashion shows. He finds a seat near the stage, especially interested in the musical acts.
Maybe he's brought his guitar with him tonight, strumming it idly in between act. Or maybe it's another night where he has one very steampunk-looking flute in his hands, drumming his fingers along it anxiously. If anyone happens to take a seat next to him he looks over.]
They're pretty good, huh?
laminae and open.What: Catch-all log for January.
When: Early January so far.
Where: Around Trench.
Content Warnings: Violent death, fighting, post-death blues.
Let's fight a god (Closed to Dirk and Varian)
[Fern can't figure out if this is the best idea he's ever had, or the worst. He's hit a point in his desperation where any idea, no matter how unlikely or ridiculous-sounding, is an idea he's willing to try. He is, of course, being driven by his love for Varian, his desire to see the person he cares most about in the world stop spiraling into the abyss, and he's well aware that making decisions ruled by emotions generally isn't the best thing to do. But at the same time they've tried so many other things - those supposed anti-corruption cookies, taking Varian out to socialize and have more company, indulging in his love of science - and nothing has worked. Varian has steadily gotten worse and worse, and that's why he's out here today. Before leaving the house he sent his boyfriend a quick text, deliberately doing so to make sure he won't get it too soon and try to stop him before he confronts The Tower.
At least he's brought someone along. Dirk was the natural choice for him, what with his godhood and experience with cosmic beings and his willingness to put up a fight. Between the two of them they have more experience with gods than most people, so if he has any chance at all of getting a solution out of Varian's Patron Pthmuerian it'll be with him. And if he doesn't, well, at least he tried. He tried and he'll find some other idea to try. He'll keep on trying until Varian starts to improve, and not before then.
(The idea that he might just fail, that Varian might get so bad there's no coming back from him and he might end up the Lumenarium does occur to him, but he refuses to actually entertain that notion. He's risking even more corruption himself if he does.)
It was at least easy to figure out which Patron was Varian's. The hideout during November, as well as Varian's personality and love of science makes it clear to him that it could only be The Tower. From there it was only a matter of asking around to find out where the most recent sighting of the Pthumerian was - a little plaza in Gaze near the School of Mutter, the area circled by ancient, crumbling statues and gnarled old trees. It's creepy and ominous but there he is, standing starkly in contrast to the other statues, looking as if he's been carved out of smooth marble. Several ravens have settled themselves on his shoulders, content to be resting there despite the chilly weather.
Fern's hands clench into fists and he has to resist the urge to form a grass sword. The familiar weight would offer some comfort, but he's here to talk, not attack the guy. So he glances to his side, over at Dirk.]
Oookay, let's do this.
Post-death - For Varian
[Fern's crystallized grassy remains in the little plant pot for the next few days. They don't do much, no rooting or responding to the grow light Luz has set up. The grass remains suspended in the crystals, still and silent, until one night when squid ink begins to leak out of the shreds of plant matter, through the crystal and into the dirt. What follows is a fairly quick process: the crystal cracks and breaks, and from the grass Fern's squid body remains. It only remains that way for a few moments though, suddenly overtaken by a whole surge of grass as Fern regrows the rest of his body, a large lump of grass that ungracefully falls off the table and onto the floor.
Smooth.]
Post-death - OTA
[It takes him a little while to fully pull himself back together and feel some semblance of normal, but eventually Fern manages. He thankfully doesn't have the deathflu to contend with, so all it is is general exhaustion from having been dead and literally regrowing his entire body. It means that for the first few days of being back, he sticks near the house in Cassandra instead of going out to his usual haunts in Ache and Willful Machine, not wanting to worry anyone about overexerting himself.
He can generally be found up on the roof, always accompanied by one horse-sized black wolf who happens to be toasty warm. There's one huge upside to having a fire wolf for a friend, Hazel's proximity is perfect in fighting off the chill of winter.
If anyone approaches the house and enters the yard Hazel's ears will perk up, though Fern will give the wolf a reassuring pat on the head before waving.]
The Red - Rest and Recovery
[The flyer sounds a little sketchy, but Fern remembers some of the kinder parties in Deerington, and honestly, the idea of hanging out somewhere supposedly safe from corruption sounds nice. Exactly the kind of thing at least half the Sleepers in Trench need after the situation with Varian, and even though he had been dead at the time that includes himself.
He can be found at The Red on various nights, dressed up in his outfit from Madam Generosity, a style that's a combination of viking and barbarian with one very furry, very cozy-looking fur cloak. Early on in the month he's more commonly found curled up in one of the giant cushions, drinking some soda, exhausted and recovering from his time being dead.]
The Red - Music Jam
[Later on in the month, when he's feeling more like his usual self, he'll be taking a bit more of an active interest in the talent and fashion shows. He finds a seat near the stage, especially interested in the musical acts.
Maybe he's brought his guitar with him tonight, strumming it idly in between act. Or maybe it's another night where he has one very steampunk-looking flute in his hands, drumming his fingers along it anxiously. If anyone happens to take a seat next to him he looks over.]
They're pretty good, huh?
no subject
Sketch? [he echoes, rubbing absently at one arm. Already itchy again.] Oh! Suspicious. I don't know it's so bad. At least they tell you about how to stop it this time.
It can be, I--we think, but only if it's really a, a better fit for you somehow. [He looks directly at Fern, biting his lower lip.] It's not, it wouldn't be wrong if it is, right?
[Wow right into the heavy philosophical stuff off the bat.]
no subject
They do? [That's a bit of a relief. Usually this stuff just happens, and everyone has to deal with it.]
I... I think it's only wrong if you didn't ask for it, or if you don't want it. [He makes a noise like a sigh.] People change, that's normal, but when something makes you change it... it's not great.
no subject
[Which means he could make this permanent... Or at least make it last a little longer. He looks down at his arm again, and stops rubbing at the dry patch.] ...No. It's not great. It's the worst, when someone changes you into something else.
[Serious frowning at the ground ensues.] But when it's not because anyone did anything wrong, I guess it's not so bad. Maybe. He thinks so.
no subject
I usually use water for that, but grass sheds off of me all the time. Maybe it doesn't work for grass boys?
[Who knows, but he's kind of hoping that's the case. At any rate, Fern raises an eyebrow at what Illarion says.]
'He'?
no subject
[Speaking of, he definitely didn't come over just to share his own woes! Though--he looks away at Fern's question.]
The other me. The one who got old and turned into a monster and died. He thought so much about this stuff it's all still, [he gestures around his head with taloned hands,] crowded in here.
no subject
[And he already knows Varian doesn't respond especially well to him getting changed away from just being Fern.]
He - ... [Hold up, he turned into a monster and died? This is new to Fern and he pauses, taking all of this in, for once taking time to think about his words.] ... D'ya think talking about it and getting it out of your head might help you feel less crowded?
no subject
[...Ah. Uhm. Larka blinks at that offer. (Get dunked on, kid, other people worry about you too.)] ...M, maybe. I, uhm.
[He takes a deep breath.] I mean, I would like to talk about it very much. But before that I must s, see to the reason I'm here. [Then, with less rigid formality:] I brought food! And some things for you.
no subject
It does feel like a good idea to offer. After learning Varian's corruption grew because he kept everything down, and his own bad experiences with his mental vault talk about your problems is a fantastic idea.]
Oh, uh. [The sudden formality!! Fern blinks at that, then grins a little. Food is always welcome.] Okay, cool. What did you bring?
no subject
Hard to just be a kid, with all that baggage.
He breaks into an answering grin and tugs his bag down off his back (thankfully, not the much bigger satchel Illarion's usually carrying).] Cookies! And a couple of meat buns.
[He rummages out a cellophane-wrapped package of wafer cookies covered in incomprehensible alien script, then two paper-wrapped lumps--one in green, one in white.] They're chocolate, I think, and this is pork with mushrooms, [he shakes the green one,] and this is without mushrooms, [the white one.
He'll press all that on Fern so he can dig out the rest of the goodies.] Then there's this neat rock I found, and this, [he holds up a perfect little ball of dried spikemoss,] uhm. This comes back to life when you get it wet.
[That's a little on the nose, Larka.]
no subject
Cool, glad I can eat. [Thank you, Martin, for the most important magical item ever. Especially when it comes to cookies!] These aren't going to waste.
[He'll take the rest too, the rock, and the spikemoss, examining both curiously.]
The rock is sick. It'll look great on the mantle next to all the skulls. Does the moss thing need a plant pot and dirt so it doesn't die?
no subject
You've got SKULLS on your mantle? [His eyes get even bigger with excitement.] Did you hunt them all yourself?
Oh! [AND,] You could put the plant in one if you, if you cut the top off, since it just needs water. The lady I got it from said to let it dry all the way out sometimes, so it doesn't rot.
It would look like the skull's got feathers!
no subject
Yup! Killed and skinned the monsters myself! Most of 'em were from Deerington, but I've gotten a few here when I've been out doing Hunter junk.
[This wouldn't be the first time he's used a skull as a flower pot, and he turns to head inside, gesturing.]
Let's go pick one out. And if this thing will look like it has feathers then we should give a bird-y name, huh?
no subject
Realistically, he's got memories of growing up to be exactly that cool but then he turns into a monster and dies which Fern clearly has not done.
(Oh, sweet summer child.)]
I want to do that. I'll, [he's almost certain he can't stay like this,] I'll stick around and grow up and be a Hunter too and keep skulls.
Or, or make him keep more skulls.
[He hugs his bag to himself for a moment, expression dimming. Then he shakes his head fiercely.]
You name all your plants? ...I mean, of course. If you talk to them, they have to have names.
It definitely needs a bird-y name. Or a dragon-y one, if it's really big!
[The literally difference between birds and dragons to an elf: How big are they.]
no subject
We could go monster hunting together sometime. Whichever version of you you end up being. [That would be all kinds of fun.]
Yeah. I mean, I've got enough of 'em that they need names now. I think they like them, from what I can tell. [There are at least happy feelings he gets from them when he uses their names.]
Hmm... how 'bout Neddy? That's PB's brother back home, he's a gum dragon.
no subject
It's a little bit of a struggle for him to keep up with Fern when he keeps getting distracted by odd-looking gadgets or weird bones or bright-colored pieces of Luz's collection. This is a wonderland.]
Really? [He's not used to people agreeing with his mad dreams like that! Blame it on the one person with veto power on what he could do.] We--we could. We should! A real monster hunt.
[He chews his lower lip at the suggested name, giving it all the serious consideration it's due.] Neddy sounds like it's round, just like the plant. I like that. You should call it Neddy.
What makes a dragon a gum dragon? Do they eat gum trees?
no subject
Cool, we'll do it, then! [He's always down for some good ol' hunter bonding.]
Okay, Neddy it is. [He looks down at the moss, and there's a little burble of feelings in response.] I think it likes it.
- Oh, nah. He ate tree sap, but it wasn't a gum tree. He was made outta gum, same as Bonnie.
no subject
Though he comes v e r y close with a particularly cool and spiky skull, stretching his hand out to hover over it briefly.]
That's--oh! That's good, that's right. You can hear it. Is, uhm. Are things quieter now with the mushrooms? Sorry I forgot to ask sooner...
[December was a weird month and they'd last seen each other during the disaster around Falco and the Silence.
He blinks slowly at he was made outta gum.] How??
no subject
They're better. As long as I'm not surrounded by mushrooms it's okay, and I'm getting used to their, uh. Their emotions.
[It's still rough sometimes, but he's inching back towards normalcy, for the most part.]
I dunno, dude. There were all kinds of different people back home, like candy people and fruit people. That's just Ooo.
no subject
That's--that's good. That sounds good. Does having happier plants around help?
[He pokes at one of the skull's spikes.]
I s'pose it doesn't really matter what people are made out of if they're people. We've got all different kinds, too. Even plant people, though you're lots nicer than they are.
[Can't even live on the Iron Steppes for all the plant people having a massive civil war.]
no subject
It does, sometimes. Sometimes they're like a huge foghorn of happy. It's a lot, y'know?
[He isn't a very happy person, so often it's very overwhelming.]
Am I? What're the ones in your home like?
[He's curious!]