Darth Jadus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jadus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2020-04-03 04:25 pm
jadus) wrote in maskormenacelogs2020-04-03 04:25 pm
Entry tags:
Seedlings, Sanctuary, Solitary
WHO: Darth Jadus, whoever dares
WHERE: Multiple cities, some of them vague
WHEN: April
WHAT: Jadus goes to a plant sale (yes really), does ominous things, and does ominous things at night.
WARNINGS: none yet but it's jadus
1. Seedlings
Some imPorts blend in well with the daily life of their temporary home. Though their faces are known to those who pay attention to the tabloids, they can often pass unnoticed.
But the hulking, faceless man at the spring plant sale stands out.
He moves between the tables of young plants, standing almost a head taller than anyone else. He doesn't push others out of the way so much as they naturally and unconsciously gravitate away from him.
He is quiet, for the most part, examining the plants. When he speaks, he seems entirely focused on technical questions for the staff. What will this plant do to the phosphorous levels in the soil? Was that one grown with a full complement of mycorrhizal fungi? What is the biosequestration efficiency of this seedling?
2. Sanctuary
Heropa was not a public concern of his. Many of his public appearances were in Jeopardy, some still in De Chima. But that did not mean the city had no use to him. And so, he had endeavored to shape a piece of its outskirts to his design.
Out of sight of the city, away from the trails and waterways the natives made use of, he had found a suitable location. A plant-choked offshoot of a nearby lake, the water stained black by organic decay.
He had meditated for several weeks at the lake's edge, occasionally allowing his followers to accompany him so that they could carry the materials he needed. They professed to find the results beautiful. He sent them away once they had completed their tasks, never to see his creations completed.
He now walked on the surface of the lake, the water glimmering now with the metallic skeletons of the plants he had induced to grow there. Despite the rigidity of the metal, the lattice still moved beneath his feet as if only loosely tethered to the murky bottom. In the lake's center, the lattice curved up into a ragged sphere on thick central veins of metal, almost touching but leaving treacherous gaps above and below.
The life within the lake had continued to thrive since he had begun his work, but the water had taken on the faintest tinge of red.
He took his place within the sphere, kneeling in meditation. Opening his mind to the false Dark that had permitted him to create this refuge.
3. Solitary
The night is reminiscent of Nar Shaddaa in miniature. The lights barely stained the sky, the scents less cloying, the emotions of those around him less starkly divided between euphoria and misery.
But the humming. This was something different. It reminded him of the Imperial Intelligence laboratories he had made use of to prototype his Eradicators. Key stages of their development had been moved to the Smuggler's Moon as well, though he had not been present then. Perhaps this was what it had felt like.
He moved his main operations to Jeopardy soon after the city arrived, and he still sometimes takes to the streets late at night. Sometimes for a specific task, but more often to wander, mask dully reflecting the city lights. Eventually, he will stop and stand, unmoving. Sometimes for hours.
Until something catches his attention.
WHERE: Multiple cities, some of them vague
WHEN: April
WHAT: Jadus goes to a plant sale (yes really), does ominous things, and does ominous things at night.
WARNINGS: none yet but it's jadus
1. Seedlings
Some imPorts blend in well with the daily life of their temporary home. Though their faces are known to those who pay attention to the tabloids, they can often pass unnoticed.
But the hulking, faceless man at the spring plant sale stands out.
He moves between the tables of young plants, standing almost a head taller than anyone else. He doesn't push others out of the way so much as they naturally and unconsciously gravitate away from him.
He is quiet, for the most part, examining the plants. When he speaks, he seems entirely focused on technical questions for the staff. What will this plant do to the phosphorous levels in the soil? Was that one grown with a full complement of mycorrhizal fungi? What is the biosequestration efficiency of this seedling?
2. Sanctuary
Heropa was not a public concern of his. Many of his public appearances were in Jeopardy, some still in De Chima. But that did not mean the city had no use to him. And so, he had endeavored to shape a piece of its outskirts to his design.
Out of sight of the city, away from the trails and waterways the natives made use of, he had found a suitable location. A plant-choked offshoot of a nearby lake, the water stained black by organic decay.
He had meditated for several weeks at the lake's edge, occasionally allowing his followers to accompany him so that they could carry the materials he needed. They professed to find the results beautiful. He sent them away once they had completed their tasks, never to see his creations completed.
He now walked on the surface of the lake, the water glimmering now with the metallic skeletons of the plants he had induced to grow there. Despite the rigidity of the metal, the lattice still moved beneath his feet as if only loosely tethered to the murky bottom. In the lake's center, the lattice curved up into a ragged sphere on thick central veins of metal, almost touching but leaving treacherous gaps above and below.
The life within the lake had continued to thrive since he had begun his work, but the water had taken on the faintest tinge of red.
He took his place within the sphere, kneeling in meditation. Opening his mind to the false Dark that had permitted him to create this refuge.
3. Solitary
The night is reminiscent of Nar Shaddaa in miniature. The lights barely stained the sky, the scents less cloying, the emotions of those around him less starkly divided between euphoria and misery.
But the humming. This was something different. It reminded him of the Imperial Intelligence laboratories he had made use of to prototype his Eradicators. Key stages of their development had been moved to the Smuggler's Moon as well, though he had not been present then. Perhaps this was what it had felt like.
He moved his main operations to Jeopardy soon after the city arrived, and he still sometimes takes to the streets late at night. Sometimes for a specific task, but more often to wander, mask dully reflecting the city lights. Eventually, he will stop and stand, unmoving. Sometimes for hours.
Until something catches his attention.