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
"Comfortable? Hardly. Just familiar."
Much like the last terrain, Rey knows the jungle. She would prefer to know it a little more, but being able to use the planet to their advantage is the first step. After that...? Well, she'll figure out the rest.
She nods down at the stalking feline. "Seen a couple of those around. Probably better to keep a distance." So Carlisle's current position might not be such a bad idea, all things considered.
no subject
And more importantly, if they can, can she deal with it?
no subject
Rey would really rather not have to hurt an animal just trying to get by unless she has to. They're not that desperate for food and supplies at this time for her to really justify it.
no subject
He pats the side of the limb he's sitting on, an offer for her to join him. "Do you recall the last time we were in a jungle, Miss Rey?"