for the widows in paradise

Everest

"Are there any scents known to repel dragons..?" Everest asks skeptically as he pilots Mateo's skyship toward the Boondocks.  With clear skies and the boat still being above the ocean, keeping the skyship on course didn't require a good deal of Ever's attention, leaving him free to offer Mateo more than a few deeply skeptical frowns.

Having turned down Mateo's fuck around and find out approach to sailing into the Draig Cordillera, the strategy was now trying to find a way to use flora to keep the dragons away from the ship as it flew through the mountains. If certain scents worked against mosquitoes and bears, surely there must be something that would work against dragons? So the argument went, anyhow. The logic wasn't unsound, and yet Everest remained staunchly unconvinced.

"I wonder if your Dad's companion might know?" He suggests, beginning to angle the skyboat down towards where the Boondocks were slowly coming into view.

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

"Who, Sugar? Maybe she would know, but she is in the Cordillera," Mateo points out, gently swinging in a hammock he's set up on the deck of his little schooner. He's got his feet up and the seed catalogue open in his lap, the botanist absently turning the pages to check what is unfinished and if there are any leads they might find. "So if you'd like to go to the Cordillera to ask..." Flashing his friend a grin, he closes the catalogue and carefully sits up.

"I'm not sure if there will be a generic repellant, but I could be wrong. I thought that certain dragons might dislike certain scents or flora depending on their element. Like a fire dragon disliking a plant that squirts water, you know?" He snorts; he doubts such a thing exists, but now he's said it, it almost certainly does.

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

"Oh." Looking politely baffled, Ever frowns to himself. "That..is a very good point." Despite literally thinking about the Cordillera, it was all too easy to forget that Remi and Ronin were not in a place the pair could easily access them. Fairly certain that wasn't a detail that escaped Mateo, Ever hums a polite and apologetic sound before raising a disapproving eyebrow in response to his friend's suggestion. "Or we could just find someone else with a dragon." He suggests.

"Mmm. I wonder if sound works on them. I know when I'm shifted there are certain sounds that feel very wrong and make me want to stay away. Although...if the dragons realize that the sound isn't actually dangerous, they might associate it with being more like a dinner bell." Having talked himself out of his own idea in one breath, Ever sighs and opts to focus the entirety of his attention on the skyboat's descent.

Though the Boondocks were famous for running ships aground given the sudden shallow waters, such was not a problem for Everest as he gently coaxed the schooner down onto the shoreline. "Remind me again what we're after here?" Ever asks; he knows, of course, but it reassures him to hear the information more than once.

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

As they near the Boondocks properly, Mateo leaves the seed catalogue in the hammock and struggles to his feet to go and stand with Ever as he expertly coaxes the schooner down towards the ground. The botanist knows sweet fuck all about piloting his own ship, but he knows what bits of the ship do what, and so as he thinks about who they know who might have a dragon, he steers himself towards the anchor. "Well," he says, "if it comes to it, I wonder if I could go and bond to a dragon. Do you think there are seed dragons?"

Letting Ever talk himself into and out of the idea of a sound repellant, Mateo is already examining the layout of King's End to see if he knows where to find the flora they're after. "It's something quite new," he says slowly. "They call it Quicksand Moss. It looks like dead moss because it's brown, but it's carnivorous. So we'll have to be careful when we try to get a sample."

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

About to answering with a resounding no, Everest wisely keeps his mouth shut. This was Caido after all, and there was really no reason to think that there weren't seed dragons. At least Mateo wasn't asking about drug dragons. "Do you think you'd like a companion?" There is a rather small and complicated part of Ever that feels somehow threatened by the very notion of Mateo having a companion. It likely has everything to do with the botanist being Ever's only real friend, with the added strangeness of him acting like a companion more or less while shifted.

Trying not to mentally manage Mateo while he dropped the anchor on his own ship (the way he'd gone about it was perfectly but, but because it wasn't precisely the way Everest would have done it himself, it bothered him), Ever made sure the boat was safely enough moored before turning his attention back fully to Mateo.

"So it...looks dead, but...does it act like quicksand?" He frowns. "Or, oh, is that how it eats? You're engulfed in it because you think it's just a patch of dead moss?"

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

Okay but drug dragons though. "I don't think so?" Mateo says slowly of getting a companion, straightening back up after having dropped anchor, running his fingers through his curls and stepping back to join Everest as he puts the finishing touches on their descent. "If I came across one obviously I would not kick it to the curb, but... I don't think I need one. I have you."

In his clumsy wisdom (good job in comparing your best friend to a companion, Mateo) he's unintentionally given voice to the other man's thoughts, which is probably a good thing, because otherwise it's quite likely he'd be slapped. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Mm, I think the latter," Mateo says slowly, already moving to shove the gangplank across and down so they can get off the schooner. "It grabs onto its prey and covers it all up to digest it. I don't think it repels ddrahons, though."

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

Though Ever's anxiety about Mateo one day replacing him wouldn't go away, for today at least it would stay quiet even if there was more talk of seed dragons (or, gasp, drug dragons).

Helping his friend secure the gangplank in place, Ever makes his way down. With a bag slung over his shoulder with just about everything he could think to bring, everything else had been placed into Mateo's bag of holding. " That is quite clever. I wonder if Rae designed it that way, or if it evolved." The question of evolution was a fascinating one, at least to Ever. With so many species thoughtfully created, evolution was more of a response to a random mutation, than any sort of necessary advantage. Still, from what he'd seen, Rae wasn't much of a micromanager.

"Will we have to take the entire plant, do you think? Or will just a small clump do?"

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

"I wonder if Rae designed it to be able to evolve," Mateo trills as he follows Everest down the gangplank, shifting his bag of holding on his shoulder and seeming cheerful enough as they hop down onto the Boondocks. "It seems just like them to make something that was intended to make its own way in the world, right?" He's not really a fan of any of the gods, truthfully, but of all of them, Rae and Frey do seem the most chill. (Or maybe it just feels that way because his fathers cover life and death respectably and he hasn't got as many negative Frey encounter tales).

"Mosses are really interesting," he says as he starts to lead them off on their adventure to... nowhere in particular, as it happens. "They grow in patches or clumps, but it doesn't really matter if we take the whole mass or just part of it. It should propagate well enough regardless, as long as it's given the right nutrients." Which in this case is, uh, meat?

"It usually lives in damp places, so I guess just be on the lookout for dead moss that isn't actually dead?"

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

Unsure about this but not willing to dismiss the idea entirely, Everest hums a noncommital note of acknowledgement. It's one of his most common sounds these days, especially while he's apprenticing at work. Many of the things he hears he thinks are absolutely false, but never one to argue with a (literal) pile of evidence, he's found that humming tends to appease the people around him looking for some sort of response.

'That is interesting.' Ever replies; despite his dead-pan tone, he really does find this interesting. 'I'll use my nose." He offers, removing his bag and setting it down. Shifting with ease now, Ever's canine shift is no longer an awkward poorly proportioned puppy. Now he's all sleek muscle beneath a shiny black pelt that shines blue in the light. Grasping his pack between his teeth, Ever offers a muffled bark before trotting off ahead of Mateo to find a patch of real moss that he might use it to differentiate it from what was actually a carnivorous plant.

If I told you that you'd do nothing with it
I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

"That's a good idea," Mateo says to his friend, shifting his bag on his shoulder and holding out a hand to take the backpack for Ever - but of course, the canine is already borking and trotting off with the item between his teeth. Allowing a small and private smile (it's always fun to see Everest in his shift, and sometimes the botanist can even persuade him to play ball), he sets off after the Attuned.

"If we do find some 'dead' moss, I've got some scraps of meat in my bag for us to throw at it, to see if it's the special kind or if it's just... dead." But first they have to find some, and Mateo picks up his pace until he's trotting after Ever through the Boondocks. To anyone watching, it's just a man and his dog journeying somewhere. Which is hilarious, because that likely paints Mateo out to be more competent than he is.

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

One day, instead of bat-sized dildo rods and the bones of his dead aunt, maybe Mateo will get a way for them to communicate. Until then, it's yips and barks, tail wags, and grunts.

Dropping his pack, Everest gives his tail a half wag as he lowers his nose. Sniffing loudly in the way dogs do sometimes, his ears are dark and sharp triangles on his head as if they might be able to lend a hand in this venture. Winding in circles, eventually Ever gives a loud hufff as his head shoots up and his tail begins to wag lazily back and forth.

At his paws is a mess of moss that looks entirely out of place. Roughly the size of a bird's nest, it was mostly round and seemingly unattached to the flora around it.

If I told you that you'd do nothing with it
I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

It's his dead grandmother, actually, but since they don't have that method of communication yet, Mateo will forgive his friend for his disrespect. He picks up the pack as Ever drops it, standing by to watch with no small amount of amusement as he snuffles around for their moss, and if he'd known the reference, he might have asked about little Timmy and if he'd fallen down a well.

As Everest pinpoints his discovery, Mateo tilts his head and steps up beside the canine, flashing him an approving grin. "You should have become a search and rescue Attuned," he tells him. "With a nose like that, you'd have been able to find anyone lost out in the Wilds."

But they still don't know if this is the moss, and so Mateo digs in his bag for the scraps of jerky he's brought, offering some out to Ever before tossing the rest into the not-birds-nest of moss. And it reacts instantly, snorfling up the jerky to start digesting it like some malignant sponge out in the middle of the grasses.

"Ew." Mateo smiles, reaching now for his sample equipment. "I think this is our quicksand moss."

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand

Everest

Dogs are quite expressive, and so one wouldn't be wrong in ascribing the flat stare that Ever gives Mateo as being one of genuine disapproval for his comment. Or, maybe he was just looking up. Not wanting the pressure of becoming a search and rescue dog, the mere fact that his friend had mentioned it made the attuned wonder if he didn't have some sort of obligation to use his canine abilities for the good of Caido. Was he wasting his potential on the skyboats? Was he morally obliged to do something more?

Ugh, thanks Mateo.

Sniffing for just a moment before accepting the jerky, Ever chomps it happily as the moss does the same. Instantly the shepherd's hackles raise as his ears flatten. Growling a low and feral note in the back of his throat, the canine lowers his head and bears his teeth, never taking his eyes off the pile of rather uninteresting looking moss.

If I told you that you'd do nothing with it
I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish

Mateo

Should'a seen what I wore
I had a cane and a party hat

While Everest responds with entirely understandable aggression and suspicion, Mateo is as delighted as he is repulsed by the new specimen. "Hey, it is allowed to like jerky," he points out, crouching down with his equipment and humming a jaunty little ditty to himself as he tries to capture some of the hungry, malicious flora.

"And once it is in the jar and back in my bag, you do not even have to worry about it any more." So saying, he makes quick work of snatching up some of the moss (it's trying to attack his hand, of course, which is wonderful) and setting it into a jar. Tossing in some extra jerky and a spritz of moisture, he packages it up and puts it away.

"That was easy," he says, straightening up. "Shall we head back?"

I was the king of this hologram
where there's no such thing as getting out of hand