Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 6, 2010 12:50:20 GMT -5
Day 15-Open
It's taken several days for Botanica to decide to leave the Event Horizon and even more before she was was willing to chance a trip to the planet's surface. The memory of almost dying-twice -because of losing her connection to her green is still very fresh, after all. But if she can't go planetside, then her use to the Autobots is limited quite severely. She must try, at least; she should be able to survive a shuttle ride and back, if things turn south.
Just in case, however, she's added a few extra vines and flowers to her look, ones carefully- and with many apologies- culled from the biosphere gardens. They'll live as long as they can draw strength from her, and she, in turn, can draw some strength from them.
At least there is no force shield that must be dealt with. This is just a proximity issue.
She traded a few lilies for enough credits to make the round trip. She'll not have much in the way of funds once she's below, but that doesn't concern her. This is merely an exploratory excursion, after all. Just to see if she can handle the distance. Botanica disembarks, moving out of the crush. A breath, two, and everything seems fine.
Then she is bent almost double with pain that is not her own.
No one pays her any mind of course, and she moves further away from the crowd. She leans against a wall, trying desperately to quiet the pounding in her head and the bile rising in her throat. She can't, and soon finds herself vomiting quietly into a nearby wastebasket.
Eventually, the nausea passes, and she straightens, wiping her mouth. She'd like a drink of water, but her senses tell her the water in the drinking fountains will just make it worse.
//This planet...is very, very ill.// she says on the broadband.
|
|
|
Post by SceneMod on Apr 11, 2010 16:20:43 GMT -5
There are some trolley-cars running in this part of the street, that follow set rails in the road and overhead wires. The rails don't look in great condition, and a fair number of of the electrical wire overhead have shoes and bottles of cleaning detergents thrown over them. The trolleys themselves probably looked grand and dapper, when first made, but their brass and wood are mostly just unidentifiable now.
It starts to rain. This is a first rain, so it's bringing down all the soot and other pollutants in the air. By the time the fat raindrops hit, they're almost black, with all the contaminants they've picked up.
Umbrellas go up, quickly.
None of the pidgeonoids or gullics drink this rain. They know it'll burn if they do, acid from the industries has made it up into the very clouds.
The scrappy little survivors of plants here are all acidophiles, the astute will note.
|
|
|
Post by Rodimus Prime on Apr 11, 2010 16:37:54 GMT -5
Rodimus isn't too far from the source of Botanica's signal, but getting there proves a little tricky as some of the roads are clogged. Rodimus manages to navigate them without too much trouble - he's pretty maneuverable, and on top of that, on this world he's a lot smaller than the standard vehicle.
It still takes a few minutes for the young Prime to arrive in the park and transform back to robot mode, and a bit longer than that to actually locate the area of the arrival terminal where Botanica is. He glances around - she has, fortunately, managed to slip out of the crowds - then walks quickly up to her. He pauses as the black rain starts to fall down, leaving dark trails on his armor as it splashes onto him - because he had been in vehicle mode, his new clothes are currently subspaced. He makes a face - Primus, but he hates this world - and then kneels near Botanica, the black rain trailing down his face like tears.
"Botanica? How're you... no, nevermind, stupid question. Do you need to go back?"
|
|
Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 11, 2010 21:03:45 GMT -5
She felt the rain before it started, catching the anticipation in what little plantlife there was in the area. The rain should help. It should be a refreshing thing, should clean some of the filth away....
The rain makes things worse.
Rodimus finds Botanica as she is pressing herself as flat against the wall as she can, trying to utilize what little overhang of shelter there is. Automatically she reaches out to try and grasp his arm, seeking stability- but not stability of body,
"Rodimus, thank you. Go back? No, I don't think so. I think- I need to be of more use, and I can tell I'm in no danger of expiring. I'm just wilting a bit, due to the pollution and sickness of the planet's heart. I will adjust." Her expression says she isn't looking forward to the process.
"But, if we can get out of this poison rain-" her eyes cast about for a cafe or some such, some place where they might sit until the rain passes or she feels more balanced, whichever comes first.
|
|
|
Post by Rodimus Prime on Apr 12, 2010 7:33:07 GMT -5
Rodimus, on seeing Botanica's distress in the rain, automatically moves to try to shield her as he, too, looks around. This near the arrival terminals, there are plenty of restaurants and the like, so Rodimus gestures to one cafe. Luckily, the scale here means that the young Prime won't have (much) problem fitting in - if anything, the chairs are rather large for Botanica.
"Think that'll work?" he asks. If she agrees, he moves with her to the cafe, trying to keep as much of the rain off her as possible. As he approaches, he mutters, "I hope this isn't a clothes-only establishment."
Rodimus has become quite bewildered over the cultural intricities surrounding robot clothes.
|
|
Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 13, 2010 9:47:53 GMT -5
Botanica allows Rodimus to shelter her as much as he likes. But, oh, she does so hate feeling helpless! She tries not to visibly show her discomfort as they move toward the cafe and take their seats.
She promptly begins using the napkins in the table dispenser to wipe herself off, starting with her face. Luckily, this place being so close to a drop off, they don't have a clothing policy; after all, newbies often don't know the custom.
"Ugh. It's so acidic," She touches a newly tender area on her arm, "I think I shall have to make future excursions in my robot form. It may handle the pollutants better. Though it won't help me with the planet's own illness."
Botanica shakes her head, "And I though my Cybertron was out of balance, before the reformatting. This place... it feels similarly wounded. But..that does not make sense."
|
|
|
Post by Rodimus Prime on Apr 13, 2010 20:31:56 GMT -5
But if Cybertron is unbalanced, does that mean Unicron prefers unbalanced meals?
Rodimus frowns as he considers Botanica's words, then shakes his head. "I've never felt anything remotely like this on Cybertron," he says. He rests his head on his right hand and allows, "Well, my Cybertron, anyway, but I guess it does have a different history."
"I, uhm, didn't even know how to describe what I was feeling, really." He looks down at the table, his finger tracing circles on it. "I... I'm not sure we can even do anything," he admits miserably. "Or... should."
|
|
Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 14, 2010 10:32:21 GMT -5
She nods. "Well, that is not surprising, really. There is nothing that says my Cybertron and yours share more than a name and some history. And...unbalanced may not be the best word on reflection," she muses.
Finally clean (well, as clean as she'll get without a shower), Botancia settles a bit better into her chair. It's a bit oversized, but at least the open ironwork allows room for her vines. Her secondary hands grasp the chair arms while she balances har chin in one of her primaries. She sighs.
"It feels...lost. Forgotten. Like a seed kept in stasis too long. It needs the right conditions to germinate, but those conditions have never occurred," her eyes close, and she looks very sad for a few seconds before she opens them, "Even without the damage the people here have done, if it could all be healed, the environment made whole, I don't think the planet will survive terribly much longer. It's heart...feels stifled."
Of course, "terribly long" can be a million years, as far as Transformers are concerned. But when talking about a planet's life, that is a short time indeed.
"As for helping, we should be careful about upsetting a universe that is not our own. It pains me, but...sometimes worlds are meant to die." This doesn't mean she won't help, if she can. But what she can do as one individual is not going to do more than but it a handful of extra days.
|
|
|
Post by Rodimus Prime on Apr 14, 2010 11:47:52 GMT -5
"No world is meant to die like this!" Rodimus exclaims vehemently, drawing confused glances from other patrons in the cafe. He looks around and covers his face with his right hand, then sighs and calms himself.
"Sorry," he says, lowering his voice. "I just... it's not easy on me to turn my back on... on, well, anyone. I know there may be nothing we can do. I even accept that. Well, mostly. But beyond that..." he sighs again and lowers his hand.
"I just don't know how much time we can even afford to stay here, and I'm not just talking problems with the rental fees at the space station. Lithone was destroyed by Unicron. In my universe, that was done on the way to Cybertrone." He leans forward, putting his elbows on the table and lifting his hands to either side of his forehead. "The timer may already be counting down, and we can't even get a look at the clock."
|
|
Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 14, 2010 16:42:21 GMT -5
Botanica quirks up an eyebrow at Rodimus's outburst, then reaches across to try and lay a quieting hand on his arm.
"So protests the Sacrificed One," she murmurs softly. In that at least, their realities are similar; Primes are sacrifices, in one way or another.
"It is no easier for me to consider such a thing." she says, tone gentle, "Even now, even in such a state, I do what I can, send little ripples out to try and heal, to test the water and the soil to see how they might best be purified. Once I'm adjusted, I will seek out any ecological groups there might be- provided neither you nor Xaaron have any objection- and offer them my expertise if they will have it. But as you say, we've little enough time, and all we can do is attempt to make things slightly better and to keep our war from these people as much as possible."
She sighs and pulls back her hand, "As for what may or may not already be in motion," she looks past Rodimus, seemingly studying the other cafe goers, "We were always a well-known race, even in times of limited off-world explorations. Yet, I understand we are not known here, despite it being a melting post of sorts." Botanica can't quite give voice to her worries, worries that have been in place ever since a certain rock pile was started.
It's why she avoids rock watch whenever possible.
"What can you feel of this place?" she asks, looking back up at Rodimus, "I am curious."
|
|
|
Post by Perceptor on Apr 14, 2010 17:30:03 GMT -5
"An incredibly diminished Ph level in the aqueous precipitation," an erudite voice complains from just beyond the awning. A moment later, Perceptor ducks under beside their table, his expression quite cross as he pulls a pair of protective goggles off of his optics and slides them up to rest on his forehead. Unlike Rodimus, Perceptor has adopted clothing in the form of what had obviously once been a bright white lab coat. The garment is now dingy and covered with the dark splotches of polluted rain, some of which have actually thinned out into holes, the weak synthetic fabric eaten away by the rain.
"Faugh! The levels of noxious effluent, carcinogens, and free radicals bombarding the inhabitants here from their own atmosphere is astound--" Perceptor breaks off as he notes the new holes eaten into his clothing.
"Oh for the love of quantum thermodynamics!" he hisses, reaching for a handful of napkins as well to begin trying to mitigate the damages, pausing for a moment to wipe the lenses of his scope dry, too. "This is even worse than what the humans did to their own atmosphere in the midst of their love affair with hydrocarbon fuels and petrochemical derivatives! I've already formulated a dozen pharmaceuticals for respiratory ailments, purely based upon what I have observed today alone!" Giving up the lab coat for lost, he tosses the napkins into a heap on the table and flings himself down onto another chair with a disagreeable scowl.
"The soil that I have sampled is in as dire a condition as the atmosphere," he observes, turning that scowl upon Botanica, and adding a sharp, worried edge to his frown. "WHY are you inflicting this upon yourself?! You should remain on the Event Horizon, within the safety of the environmental systems there, and away from this..." he flaps a hand at the rain and the sky and the ground. "Faugh."
|
|
|
Post by Rodimus Prime on Apr 14, 2010 21:36:21 GMT -5
Rodimus does have clothes! He just took them off to drive around in alternate mode, and didn't put them back on because of the rain!
He frowns at Perceptor's approach, and narrows his optics at the other's words. "Why are any of us subjecting ourselves to this, Perceptor? Because we all want to help those down here who need it." He could just be talking about the Autobots who crashed here. He's probably not. He then snorts. "If you're suggesting that the plant should stay potted, I'll point out that it's not like acid rain's the best thing for any of our systems." He glances towards the sky. "Actually, I've seen it worse on Cybertron."
After all, acid rain on Cybertron is bad enough in some realities to shut some realities' Transformers down! That hasn't happened to anyone here yet.
"I think you got ripped off on that coat, though," he adds, voice gentling to a more conversational tone. "I mean, they've got to have stuff that resists this stuff," oh, Rodimus, so eloquent, "around. They don't seem rain-shy or 'naked.'"
He leans back in the seat, absently looking towards the cafe's overhang. "Anyway, Botanica, to answer your question, I already pretty much told you what I'm getting. There's something off, something wrong... sick here. Like... like there's something missing." He shakes his head and looks towards the table. "I can't really... that's all I have words for."
|
|
Shanodin
Major
The Chamberlain, Her Chivalrous Immensity, Lady Botanica. The Unyielding Vanquisher of Weed Killer
This is NOT her field of dreams
Posts: 700
|
Post by Shanodin on Apr 14, 2010 22:40:10 GMT -5
Botanica at first just rolls her eyes and gives a long-suffering sigh at Perceptor's grumbling. Then the scientist basically tells her she's should be kept in a bell jar like some porcelain doll, and she visibly bristles. She's about to give Perceptor a piece of her mind when Rodimus beats her to the spunch quip.
Then Rodimus makes the "potted plant" comment, and she switches her glare from scientist to Prime for a few seconds before settling once again on Perceptor.
"Perceptor" she begins, tone a shade frosty, "I am not some delicate species that must be coddled to be kept vibrant and healthy. My unique physiology may make me more fragile then those who are completely inorganic in nature, but I am still a Transformer, and still possessed of a healthy constitution. The only question in my mind was my ability to make the trip at all; the pollution itself is bad, but not nearly so bad as what Megatron did to my Cybertron."
Her tone softens, "It is not my nature to sit by while others work. I can assist our cause as well as any other in our company, and perhaps can help this world a bit as a I do so."
Her lips quirk. "But I don't think spending more more than a handful of hours down here until I get used to the toxin levels is wise."
She turns back to Rodimus when he speaks again, "Ah, I am sorry. I thought you were speaking in generalities. My mistake. But yes- something missing."
Botanica chews on her lower lip, "I...I might be able to get more detailed information from the planet's spirit itself. But...what that will require-" She spreads her secondary hands; doing the Green Mother Earth Meld with something so poisoned is not an idea she finds appealing.
|
|
|
Post by SceneMod on Apr 16, 2010 18:12:18 GMT -5
Outside the little cafe, trolleys go by, set in their routes. They can bee seen through the window, in the street, beyond the bustle of pedestrian traffic, alongside the motorised traffic.
The rain is filling up a pair of empty bleach bottles that had been tied together and thrown over an electrical line.
The line is sagging.
One trolley loses contact with its electrical line and gutters out, powerless.
There is another trolley coming, and the first should not still be here.
|
|
|
Post by Perceptor on Apr 20, 2010 3:14:53 GMT -5
Perceptor is, not to put too fine a point on it, sulking. "That is not what I meant," he grumbles to himself as he picks the napkins back up and continues trying to blot up the dark stains out of the formerly white fabric. "And it was all that I could afford, at the moment. I have not yet had an opportunity to formulate those pharmaceuticals for sale to assist in procuring funds for our use." Even Perceptor can tell that he's being sulky, though, and heaves a bit of a sigh as he tosses the napkins down once again. "There are certain elements missing from the samples I have taken," he offers. "Energon, for one. Not even trace amounts of naturally occuring forms. And the pollution here is dire. This planet," he begins, shrugging as he shifts his gaze out toward that toxic rain, "it does not..." Why isn't that trolley moving? That does not appear to be a regular stop, and-- "Rodimus, look!" he interrupts himself - a first, even for him - to point at the inbound trolley, even as he is tumbling out of his seat to rush back out into the rain toward the stricken conveyance. ooc: he had been addressing both of them before he noticed the trolleys, but he's just used to thinking of Rodimus as his CO, hence why he only shouted for Roddy. He's not intentionally ignoring Botanica there, it's just habit for him, and, yes, perhaps a little desire to protect her from the rain. She can feel free to get irritated at him for it.
|
|