Carlisle Longinmouth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tongueamok) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2019-04-20 01:36 am
tongueamok) wrote in hadriel_logs2019-04-20 01:36 am
Entry tags:
Surveying
Who: Carlisle Longinmouth (tongueamok), OTA
What: A catch-all for late April/early May in which a skittish clergyman decides that collecting some new plants from the local selection is a good idea
Where: Outskirts of the city
When: Late April - Early May (feel free to either be affected by the events going on or not!)
Warnings: Lots of plants and a guy being pedantic about plants.
For the second time since he'd been spirited away from Bear Den, Carlisle found himself in a jungle. Having spent his entire life in the mountains, he hadn't been ready the first time: no amount of reading could have prepared him for the sweltering heat, no books having accurately described how the atmosphere was so wet and stifling that even the shade of the canopy above brought little respite. Despite that, even he had to admit it was, thus far, better than the camp near the Tranquility, as the river wasn't acidic, the jungle wasn't inhabited by insectoid natives (that he knew of), and the citizens weren't being psychically attacked by a living abomination of a ship every minute of every day.
Of course, being put through the wringer by the gods on a regular basis wasn't that much of an improvement, but Carlisle was willing to take what he could get in this circumstance. He still had his house, and that house had a bath. Unlike the makeshift camp near the wreck of the Tranquility, he could wash away the sweat and grime of the day with ease. The value of that luxury was absolutely immeasurable.
He also still had his garden, and though it no longer needed the magical dome to keep out the chill, he found it still helped regulate the temperature inside, keeping it comfortable for his plants -- and himself when he was in there. As much as he didn't like to venture too far from the familiar safety and relative comfort of his garden, he was curious as to what flora this new world had to offer, particularly when it came to what he could grow for himself. It wasn't that he didn't have plenty to tend to already, certainly not with how fast the coilers grew; however, the colorful leaves and vibrant flowers that dotted the landscape around them were painfully enticing, even to someone as cowardly as him.
And so he took to venturing out on rare occasions, carrying with him his pruning shears and a few supplies in his satchel. Though there was plenty of heat and sun to go around, he stubbornly refused to wear anything less than long sleeves and slacks, his worn-out tabard left behind for a change. Maybe he felt it'd get in the way, or ruined further, or maybe he'd just decided his poor tabard has seen enough of a jungle for one lifetime.
The brush is dense, too overgrown for him to travel far, but anyone wandering might find him scavenging, stooped near some peculiar flowers, collecting bark and branches from nearby trees, rolling leaves in cloth and storing seeds in bottles. Others might stumble upon him trying to encourage a gaudy beetle to walk into a jar, the bug refusing to budge and him frustrated as he nudges it with a twig. Or perhaps they come upon him that time he's stuck high in a tree as what appears to be a large cat, its brown fur peppered with patches of silver and grey, stalks the ground below.
But no matter what finds Carlisle doing, he's sure to be snitty about it. The heat will do that.
tongueamok), OTAWhat: A catch-all for late April/early May in which a skittish clergyman decides that collecting some new plants from the local selection is a good idea
Where: Outskirts of the city
When: Late April - Early May (feel free to either be affected by the events going on or not!)
Warnings: Lots of plants and a guy being pedantic about plants.
For the second time since he'd been spirited away from Bear Den, Carlisle found himself in a jungle. Having spent his entire life in the mountains, he hadn't been ready the first time: no amount of reading could have prepared him for the sweltering heat, no books having accurately described how the atmosphere was so wet and stifling that even the shade of the canopy above brought little respite. Despite that, even he had to admit it was, thus far, better than the camp near the Tranquility, as the river wasn't acidic, the jungle wasn't inhabited by insectoid natives (that he knew of), and the citizens weren't being psychically attacked by a living abomination of a ship every minute of every day.
Of course, being put through the wringer by the gods on a regular basis wasn't that much of an improvement, but Carlisle was willing to take what he could get in this circumstance. He still had his house, and that house had a bath. Unlike the makeshift camp near the wreck of the Tranquility, he could wash away the sweat and grime of the day with ease. The value of that luxury was absolutely immeasurable.
He also still had his garden, and though it no longer needed the magical dome to keep out the chill, he found it still helped regulate the temperature inside, keeping it comfortable for his plants -- and himself when he was in there. As much as he didn't like to venture too far from the familiar safety and relative comfort of his garden, he was curious as to what flora this new world had to offer, particularly when it came to what he could grow for himself. It wasn't that he didn't have plenty to tend to already, certainly not with how fast the coilers grew; however, the colorful leaves and vibrant flowers that dotted the landscape around them were painfully enticing, even to someone as cowardly as him.
And so he took to venturing out on rare occasions, carrying with him his pruning shears and a few supplies in his satchel. Though there was plenty of heat and sun to go around, he stubbornly refused to wear anything less than long sleeves and slacks, his worn-out tabard left behind for a change. Maybe he felt it'd get in the way, or ruined further, or maybe he'd just decided his poor tabard has seen enough of a jungle for one lifetime.
The brush is dense, too overgrown for him to travel far, but anyone wandering might find him scavenging, stooped near some peculiar flowers, collecting bark and branches from nearby trees, rolling leaves in cloth and storing seeds in bottles. Others might stumble upon him trying to encourage a gaudy beetle to walk into a jar, the bug refusing to budge and him frustrated as he nudges it with a twig. Or perhaps they come upon him that time he's stuck high in a tree as what appears to be a large cat, its brown fur peppered with patches of silver and grey, stalks the ground below.
But no matter what finds Carlisle doing, he's sure to be snitty about it. The heat will do that.
no subject
"Ah, Doctor," he greets, turning his attention back to the flowers he has dissected before him, each set on their own sheet of paper as he takes notes on their makeup -- and particularly their methods of reproduction, given he's hoping to grow a few of his own. "I saw some colorful flowers out here from my garden and thought to myself, 'Ah, wouldn't it be nice to have just a few new specimens for my garden?' I have found a few seeds, but I might have to transplant a..."
Realizing belatedly she's not moved any closer, he looks over his shoulder again, motioning for her to join him.
no subject
Alphys pauses a moment, realizing what she was about to say. There... isn't really going to be another move, is there? This is it. She tries to keep a smile on her face as she corrects. "N-Nevermind, uhm-- I'm sure it'll look really pretty! You could probably just take one, uh, right? I don't think these would uhm, belong to anyone..."
no subject
He leans aside so Alphys can get a better look at his notes and drawings; his art is somewhat clinical in nature, a sterilized look at the plants rather than an artistic one, but his renders show some degree of talent. "I'll need more than one, however. I wouldn't want to bring the seeds back, only to find they won't grow. Reproducing the growing conditions for plants used to such an atmosphere is not always easy. Which, ah. I'm sure you know, as a scientist."
no subject
"Well, I'm no botanist uh, f-for sure. I tend to work more in like, metal and code and stuff, but-- I mean, I get that introducing unknown variables is dangerous no matter what, right?" Alphys grins at him, attempting to diffuse any nervousness on either of their sides. It's not... perfect, but god is she trying. "Maybe we can try them in a couple different places? Or uh, if we get to explore more of this planet, we can see if they're growing other p-places, too. Maybe they're sturdy types."
no subject
"Now there's a suggestion. I haven't unlimited space in my own garden, but I know a few people with their own. Perhaps they can help with this, each caring for a different type of seed. It would help keep the groups isolated, controlled as opposed to the rampant growth beyond the city's borders. Perhaps we can then figure out the exact rate of growth, maybe even alchemical properties. Testing what is and isn't edible would be important to determining if it should be grown in the orchard. Wouldn't want one plant to overtake the others -- or worse, poison them."
He may have only been tangentially aware of the problems the orchard dealt with when it came to all those boats on the islands, but it doesn't take a genius to know that ruining the orchard would be bad.
no subject
"Yeah! That could really work! Especially in this world, m-more people can keep space without, uh, without much extra work! I know we could keep some in the lab, we've got lots of space now and I could totally build them a safe place to hang out." She'd offer to put some in her house, but even Alphys knows that above ground plants don't do well without sunlight. At least this is still something she can help with. "And if anybody needs uhm, boxes or something, I'm sure we can help with that too."