C'est La Vie (Worm/MtG) #05.1
A/N: So yeah, this is the first in what will hopefully be a steady stream of updates. Also, did someone say slice of life?
—
Staring up at the dark, predawn sky, I slowly let out a held breath and leaned back against the tree.
I gazed out across the island at a faint lightening on the horizon; the sun, not yet risen.
It was almost a new day; a new start.
A new day to bring new problems.
OK, so maybe it wouldn't be as easy as just starting over, but I had to begin somewhere... I was going to try.
My eyes drifted shut and I breathed in until the bindings around my injured chest caught, then slowly let it out.
The demons were still lurking in the back of my mind, but I could live with them, had lived with them. It wasn't anything that I didn't know how to deal with, just a matter of acknowledging the problem instead of ignoring it.
Looking down I stared at the worn cover of my notebook, my new journal really, and the place held by my thumb between the pages. With a deft flick I had it open and resting on my knee, the cramped scrawl on the pages lit by the yellow light cast from my lantern.
I may not have felt comfortable speaking about what had happened. But I could write letters, even if they would never be sent.
It wasn't enough, but for now, it was all I could do… small steps.
Closing the notebook I turned off the lantern and looked to the faintly brighter horizon.
It was a new day; there were things to and places to be.
-I-
With the sun still now a sliver of light on the horizon, the brightest source of light atop the mountain was a mixing bowl of burning wood shavings and sticks Artur held in his gloved hands.
"Any reason you're not using your mask for this?"
Artur glanced up from the bowl, the lower half of his face obscured by a damp foot wrap. "No good. Wrong feelter vor smoke, eet vould clog." He shook his head and dumped another handful of crushed leaves and shredded instruction manual into the bowl. "Vill be vine. Cain keep breath."
'Keep'? I blinked, it taking me a moment to translate that into 'hold', and nodded. "Try to work fast, if I think you're taking lag too long you'll feel a pinch on your back. You feel that, get out. Ok?"
Glancing up he met my gaze and nodded once before getting back to it.
Eventually filling the bowl to his satisfaction, he stood and entered the bunker; metal mixing bowl full of fire held out before him. I monitored his progress through disposable bugs scattered throughout the bunker, including the piles of kindling, and on his person.
Starting at the back he shook out a bit of burning kindling onto larger piles of leaves, twigs, and a binder's amount of shredded instruction manual, waited until the wood had caught, then moved on to the next. Each fire was lit fairly quickly, taking thirty seconds approximately, but the time was adding up and he was only in the hallway with smoke already affecting my observers.
My attention was drawn away as the whiptail came up alongside me, my pack on its back after having tidied up my things. Though, before I could grab it, my attention was drawn to the dimmed veins of green visible in the gaps of a carapace and looking into my swarm I noted its presence was dimmer there as well.
I stared at the whiptail and sighed when the presence lessened, if ever so slightly, over several seconds. "It's that time again?"
I'd been hoping it would take longer.
The loss was minor, but if I had been asleep it may well have been dead when I woke up.
Digging the map out of the pack, I set it on the whiptail's back while I slung my arm through the shoulder strap before working my stump through the other. I took a brief moment to pull the straps tight before picking up the map, and tucking it under my whole arm I looked inward to examine the I the jungle covered mountain. The impression was only partially replenished from my depleting it in testing. Though, as usual, once I tapped into it the green smoke appeared around my missing fingers.
I let it resist for a few moments, reminding myself of what I'd learned about it the day before, and being mindful of its volatility touched the whiptail's hard carapace while focusing on the empty spaces. The voids, where the Green had been spent, were slowly propagating throughout its enlarged form even as I worked, but slowly, carefully, I replenished the pure Green that had seen it grow to its current size and been sustaining it since then.
For a few moments I feared there would be a clash between the two, but as I worked it was absorbed all the same. It was somewhat concerning how much it was taking to fill it.
The last time I'd had to do this the whiptail had been the size of a dinner plate, it had still been an experiment. Now though, the cost to sustain it was… I frowned as the impression dimmed and dimmed, but there were still gaps to fill.
I was going to need to test how much of the impression it took to replenish when the energy was at capacity, but I had a feeling this may be unsustainable with only one impression, and certainly so if I wanted to make use of it with plants.
I needed to get another Green impression, there was no other way of sustaining it if I wanted to keep it or others while experimenting more with the Green.
My creation was still capable of eating, and the caloric intake seemed to help sustain it, but only marginally. At this point, I imagined it was very much dependant upon the energy, particularly when keeping in mind the physical limitations of insect biology as a whole. Atlas may have been what I was aiming for when I set out enlarging the bugs, but my steed hadn't simply been an enlarged beetle, instead being a wholly new organism Amy had created with specialized organs and a unique biology suited to its size.
Not so with the whiptail; it was just a normal spider made bigger, and that was the problem.
More specifically, the issue was its book lungs. The organs were perfectly suitable for its original size, but they weren't now. Or they shouldn't have been, but they were still functioning, which meant that the Green was likely the cause and acting as life support for it in some capacity.
Maybe that wasn't wholly the case before I went out into the jungle and supersized it twice over, I hadn't been watching for it then so I couldn't say, but now? No, I doubted it would survive without the Green.
Its lungs aside, however, questions over just what would happen to it if it ran dry—among other things concerning the giant spider—were mounting. Would it simply die due to organ failure? Or suffocate from not being able to get enough oxygen to its lungs? Or would it come apart at the seams without the Green to hold it together?
I didn't know.
My initial run of experiments had concluded with the enlarged bugs simply reverting to their previous sizes, shrinking after being enlarged—though in those cases the changes done to them had been slight. Some had died from the size reversal, but most had lived with the difference between death and survival not being anything I'd been able to pick up at the time. With how big the whiptail was now, however, I would be surprised if it would survive running out, let alone whether it could even shrink back its original size. The Green simply seemed too intertwined with it at this point. The gaps caused by its enlargement seemed to have been filling in a little as the insects' cellular growth 'caught up' with its size, so to speak, but the issue came back to the fact that its biology was incompatible with its size.
My frown deepened as I drew my hand away from the carapace and released my hold on the green. There were always more problems to solve, questions to answer. It was a good enough goal, but, looking to the bunker as several more bugs died from smoke, something to think about later.
My lips pressed into a thin line as I stared at the entrance to the bunker. Artur was still in there.
He was still moving about, tending the fires and had just backed out of the rear hall, but at this point, smoke had filled the radio building to the point that it was now pouring from the air vent protruding from behind the front face of the bunker; having gotten into and followed the ventilation.
I glanced at my watch and the seconds ticked by even as smoke began curling out from under the top of the doorframe. Enough. The ant on his back gently bit him and he jumped, suddenly becoming more hurried, and upended the bowl of tinder over the remaining pile of firewood and rushed for the entrance. Head ducked down with a hand to the cloth wrapped around his face he emerged stumbling, throwing away the faintly glowing mixing bowl once clear before doubling back.
As soon as the doors were shut he ripped off his makeshift mask, doubling over spitting and nearly coughing up a lung.
"Shit."
I dropped the map and reached to the small of my back, pulling out a canteen as I moved forward. As quickly as I stepped up and knelt to offer it, however, he waved me off and spat again.
"Is—is vine. Only small amount." He pulled a glove off with his teeth and rubbed his neck then coughed again. "Took time to burn, ven bug bite I lost breath vor momeent."
I grimaced and made to apologize, but looking up the man waved a hand. "Do no vorry. You varn out of cone'cern, I jump. Is vine."
"I… alright." I stood, stepping back and skeptically eyeing his hunched over form. "You're sure?"
The man simply nodded and I replaced the canteen.
Indeed, true to what he said, within a few minutes of rest Artur had risen, gathered his things, and was shouldering his pack— empty, save for some cooking supplies, bedding, and whatever else he'd seen fit to pack with the rest stowed up in a tree. I'd only told him we would be out for the night over dinner, beyond that... nothing was set in stone.
Much of what I had wanted Artur's help for was less necessary now that I had an inkling of what the Green, and Blue, could do. I was left with free time that had once been occupied with using him as labor.
Whatever happened, happened.
I stared past Artur to the bunker face as he buckled his pack and fiddled with the chest straps. For a moment I examined the window, looking for any sign of the fires within through the mud that had been slathered over it as a last minute precaution, but there was nothing. After a moment however my eyes were drawn down, to the smoke just beginning to curl out from beneath the heavy double doors and the glowed red.
Artur stepped and without comment I handed him the map as we turned away from the bunker, trying not to think of the worst that could happen to the place now that the fires were lit. If something unexpected happened… I didn't want to worry about it, especially now that I had a map of half a dozen other "emergency" bunkers as backups, but I had cleaned this place up, I had reclaimed it. It was mine.
Everything toxic or useful that could be easily removed had been. All of that had been stowed in the airlock gate; desk, chair, filing cabinets full of water, miscellaneous parts from the hallway and more. Now, all that remained was to leave the wood to burn and clean what was left when we came back.
The concern did linger somewhat, however. Going through the effort of making it habitable only to inadvertently make it the opposite? That would be embarrassing.
Mostly though, I hoped the fire didn't cause too much damage to the framework that had held the old drop ceiling tiles.
My slowly growing population of orb weavers had once more been scattered across the mountain, them and the egg sacks. Once the broods were hatched, the hope was that the framework could be used for them. It would save me time coming up with something if nothing else, but the framework would make a good scaffold for clothes.
As we passed through the airlock gate and began making our way down the dark dirt road with the whiptail securing it behind us, Artur partially unfolded the map and looked to me. "So, 'ave decided on direction?"
"I need seawater for my poncho, so the coast."
He nodded once and opening the map brought it close to his face, squinting as he read it in the dark for whatever reason. I reached into a pants cargo pocket and rummaged about the various bits I'd stuffed in it before pulling out and offering him a pilfered penlight.
He muttered his thanks and scanned the map, eyes tracing the roads and coastline. "There is much coast," he drawled and I shot him an exasperated look at the same time he glanced my way.
"I was considering the east docks," I clarified, prompting him to hum and fold out another section of the map.
A few seconds passed and another noise from him made me glance over to see him shaking his head. "Do 'ave partick'yoular reason for dock? No security. Is open location, no shel'tar."
"Hmm. I had thought there might be more there, but if that's the case…" Trailing off I thought back and recalled the map I'd nearly memorized over the past two days. There wasn't much along the coast, at least not on this side of the island, nothing more than sheer cliffs and beaches, which was something. "The beach might be nice then."
That earned me a surprised look, but he turned back to the map just as quickly.
I shrugged. "Why not. The dye will need to sit for a while but beyond that though I didn't have anything else in mind. Might be nice to relax a bit."
I needed sea water, but it didn't matter where I got it from. Maybe the beach wasn't as secure, and maybe I would have to run cover the entire time were there, but that was trivial and thinking about it the idea of just spending the day at the beach was surprisingly appealing.
"No shel'tar on beach, no protect'tion."
"I'll handle that."
Artur nodded and went back to looking at the map, scanning the coast. "Vich beach?"
When I rattled off the grid coordinates Artur was quiet as he examined the spot.
"Is plan to sleep on beach or vant to retorn by night?"
I shook my head. "No, stay out for the night."
Instead of elaborating directly, I landed a small, pale grey moth on the map to draw his eye. "I was thinking to make camp at the Veterinary Complex tonight." I glanced over as he homed in on the location; a loose cluster of boxes; rough representations of buildings situated near an intersection of service roads leading to the East Dock, and positioned near the river leading into the interior of the island.
"If anywhere is going to have thick walls and solid doors beyond the emergency bunkers, then that place would be it. If they can hold the animals, they can keep them out. At the very least it ought to have some strong cages." And if I had the right of it, there were probably some things I could scavenge and make use of.
Artur cocked his head and sucked his teeth as he shuffled the map, following the road from the beach to the veterinary building, muttering to himself—counting, I thought. He was quiet as we rounded the switchback and headed toward the first washed out section of road.
"No pro'test. Plan is vine, but is danger." The soldier tapped the wide, estuary river near the veterinary complex as we came to a stop at the break. "Some note say large animals linger near river. Is salt, boot maybe." He shrugged and handed the map back.
I considered the point for a moment, the risk of encountering the wildlife, before dismissing it. It wasn't something I had even thought about due to it being a non-issue, but to him it was.
Shaking my head I handed the map off to the whiptail which in turn stowed it in my pack. "I've already encountered the Tyrannosaur and I'm ready for it. If the documents you had on the island's species were accurate, then anything we might come across won't be a problem."
Artur stared for several seconds as we came to a stop, his face inscrutable before shrugging. "Zen vy not beach zen?" He then smiled slightly, "It vill be nice I zink, ave neever been."
As he looked down the partially broken trail we'd made the day prior, my mind was caught on his wording, the statement that he'd never been to the beach. It was a small thing, insignificant, but an incongruity that didn't jibe with what he'd told me.
Maybe it was paranoia, but... "I thought you spent a month acclimating on the mainland?"
Artur looked back and nodded, his pulse steady. "Da, but vas inland— in inter'rior. In vilderness. Never be to beach, not nee'cessary. See in helicope'ter ven arrive, see vhite sand and clear blue vahter boot no go to."
He stared off into the aether for a moment. I understood. Business before pleasure; something could be right around the corner, but it may as well be on the other side of the planet if something more important came first.
I shot him a small smile. "I guess that settles it. The beach it is, it has been a while since I've been to the beach myself, so it will be nice." I blinked as I recalled the idea I had had before things had been turned on their head. "I might be able to get us some lobster while we're there."
Absently I heard Artur ask how you were supposed to cook lobster, but my thoughts were on the strip of white I could see from the top of the mountain.
A day at the beach.
It would be pedestrian, but pedestrian… that sounded nice.
-I-
"So there's another island with dinosaurs on it?"
I didn't bother keeping the incredulity out of my voice and Artur let out a full-bellied laugh.
"Da, big in vorld news some year back, imposs'ible to mees. More animals zen are 'ere. Vas plan to take to some to America vor zoo, but big predator break out and kill many people in California city."
And they wanted to try turning this place into a zoo again?
"So if that island wasn't a zoo like this one was, what was it for? Storage?"
He waggled a hand. "Eet vas ver most of animal ver made. Somme of note show picture of beeg come'plex. Mainy moore zan here, boot danger'ous."
The size of the lab suddenly made more sense, as well as the feeling I'd gotten when sensing the Bue; theater indeed.
"Is 'nat'yure pre'zerve' now," he said, making finger quotes. "Amerecan govorn'meant pass law, but in notes is plan to move animal on ozer island to here."
"They're going to try to relocate an island full of dinosaurs to another island?"
"From island two time as large as dis vone, and da. Moore animal, more type, moore pre'dator. Fly'ing too."
I blinked. "And how do they plan to reclaim this place? The dinosaurs here have been running loose for years. How do they expect to find them all and not get killed in the process?"
"Zey use money I ex'pect. New owner is beeg buisi'ness, veery beeg. Zere vas basic of plan in note, soome military method use. Make vorward base, secure, expand, repeat. Zey track and secure animal as progress."
It was better than no plan at all, but given what had happened to Artur's team, it still sounded seriously dangerous. If they went slowly, methodically, and found some way to detect the dinosaurs, they could mitigate the risk, but it would still take time, and the expense… I held that thought for a moment, there was something there, if I stayed on the island…
Artur didn't continue as I mulled over the vague beginnings of a plan.
I wasn't entirely sure how we had ended up just talking, it had just… happened. A comment leading into a question, a question leading into an answer and so on with each response getting longer and longer until it became an actual conversation leading from one subject to another.
The casual conversation had come easily, surprisingly so.
But then, when was the last time had I actually casually spoken with someone?
There had been the book club, pleasant as it was to just talk about something I enjoyed that wasn't related to capery, but moments like that had been scarce.
Unbidden I had thought back to meeting Nilbog in his 'court'. Imprisoned behind walls, cut off, isolated. Nilbog had only his monsters to keep him company, and as a result, he'd become starved for real conversation, for human contact.
Was I like that, or nearing that state? Had I really been so starved for contact? No, not really. However, if I was being honest with myself, without something to ground myself I could see it as a possibility.
Breathing deeply I looked at the trees and foliage on either side of the road, felt the critters in the underbrush and canopy then glanced to Artur plodding along with his walking stick.
If he and his people hadn't come along, how long might I have fumbled around blindly? Playing with the energy for want of nothing else to do until the people who owned this place showed up one day. What kind of state might I have been in at that point?
How would I have reacted then, if I hadn't known anything about this world and seen people arriving with weapons?
The broad strokes of our situations weren't dissimilar and the image my mind conjured was a frightening one.
Staying to explore the capabilities of the energy power was a tantalizing option, but I hadn't really considered the prospect of being alone. Now, though…
I sighed, weary at the lack of progress on whether to leave or stay.
Indecision.
I almost snarled at the word put to the feeling. Fuck indecision. I clamped down on that thought.
Channeling my frustration into anger wasn't constructive, but neither was running myself in circles. I just didn't know what I wanted to do, and I didn't yet have enough information to push me in either direction, nor an immediate time limit to force me to make a choice. The actual realities involved in leaving didn't help either; just walking up to Artur's pick up with him had a high likelihood of being an issue in and of itself.
"You said six months the other night, do you remember anything more than that?"
"No, and even zis vas…" Artur spun his hand in thought until he snapped his fingers, "is vluid." Zere ver some report note issue vith vehicle and material. Six month is schedule, moore or less. April ate latest."
"April."
"Da, to dodge rain. Is most dry month of year." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Do plan to stay on island?"
Perceptive.
He had put the question forward though, and he was the one who would have to explain my presence to whoever picked him up. I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know, there are some things I need to—"
I stopped to peer into the dense foliage on our right and Artur continued forward for a few steps before noticing I'd stopped. He turned in place, free hand going to the knife sheathed on his belt. "Ma'am?"
We had been walking parallel to the beach for a few minutes now, and I could feel the occasional hermit crab or beach critter. However, between the jungle and the beach, there was a step-down; a sheer drop nearly fifteen feet high where the jungle transitioned into the beach. I'd been looking for an easier way down, and now I had it.
Searching through my swarm I mapped out a route to and along a dry creek bed that led right to what I had wanted.
"I found a way down," I told him, glancing to him before turning off the narrow dirt road and breaking trail through the dense underbrush.
"So, April?"
"Is as I say, a dry month. Aevter April, zer is rain."
Rain.
I immediately thought back to the storms that had rolled through one after another. Yeah, it made sense if they would want to avoid something like that.
The conversation tapered off from there, neither of us speaking as we wove through the foliage and a minute later we reached the dry creek; from there it was a direct path to the collapsed ledge from there.
I stepped down into the shallow gully at the top of the ledge and carefully edged out to the where the ledge had given way. There was now a slope of broken rock and clumped dirt, young plants growing up in the loose earth. Maybe the creek had undermined the soil stability when the storms had rolled through?
Sending the whiptail ahead I found the soil loose, giving way in a few places where the spider's legs sank in. Overall however, it seemed stable. I descended carefully with Artur following in the footsteps I made, and from there it was a short walk through the thinning underbrush as the soil became increasingly sandy and the foliage transitioned from lush tropical plants and trees into lofty palms and underbrush more suited to the sandy dirt.
Quickly enough we could see the surf breaking between the gaps in the trees, and a minute later we broke through the treeline onto a white sand beach speckled with black rocks, pink flowering ground cover that struck out toward the surf in places, and a few windswept trees.
A cove, a gently curving crescent of beach edged in by a jagged, towering rock on the right that turned the surf into foam as it hit rocks rising from the water, and a toothlike ridge jutting out from the island on the left.
A cool wind blew over the beach, tossing up bits of sand and rustling the palms as we stepped out onto the beach proper.
"Is bright."
At his comment, I glanced up to the sun shining down on us and absently pulled my cap down over my face. "Unfortunately." The downside to coming out here; I'd need to be mindful of how long I spend out in the sun, or on the sand for that matter.
A sudden tremor felt by one of my monitoring bugs had me looking back to Artur to see him squinting as he looked out at the ocean some fifty yards away. He was also leaning on his walking stick rather heavily.
"Yeah…" I glanced down the beach, to the closest of scraggly beach trees.
"How 'bout we set up somewhere in the shade then?" Gesturing to the tree, he looked to where I was pointing and stood a little straighter.
"Da."
My boots sank in with each step I made, dragging as the sand spilled over them. As we trudged through the soft sand, I began to feel the missing fingers on my right hand grow cold and tingle ever so slightly, and the vague sense of something massive loomed in the back of my mind, an unstoppable force crashing down on me then vanishing.
Hairs on the back of my neck rose and I looked around before another chilling tingle prompted me to look down and see the faintest outline of blue beside my hip. Little more than a heatblur, but the Blue mist was there.
I wasn't tapping into the impression of the lab, so… was there a local energy? A source strong enough that it had tripped whatever process triggered my passenger to draw on it?
Artur knelt down in the shade of the tree once he reached it, slowly pulling off his rucksack. I just dumped mine when I caught up.
"I need to take care of something, would you get everything together?"
Artur's head snapped up and he paused in opening his rucksack. "Ma'am?"
"The dye. Will you put my poncho on to simmer for me? I'll have the whiptail bring you wood."
He blinked and hesitantly nodded, then his eyes flicked down, widened a fraction, and snapped back up to mine and he nodded more quickly. "Yes, ma'am."
I didn't give thought to what he may or may not have seen, I didn't need to. Instead, I focused on seizing the opportunity my passenger was giving me. As quick as I could I pulled off my poncho, belt, and boots, then set the whiptail to cleaning up after me before setting out along the beach with the sand pushing up around my costumed feet.
Turning this way and that, I felt the cool tingling in my fingers wax and wane before the force returned and they prickled with ice cold pins. When the presence vanished I was left looking out at the ocean, and I made a beeline for the surf.
I shed more layers as I went, the whiptail following along to retrieve the pants, over-sized shirt, and my costume when I stripped out of it after a few moments consideration. By the time I neared the water, I was only in my bike shorts and chest wraps.
Soft and warm sand turned stiff and damp as I reached the water's edge, the smell of the ocean the strongest it had been since I'd awoken here. Then a wave crashed, cold sea water washing up around my feet for a brief instant, and the looming force solidified, blocking out everything but myself and it. I could do nothing but stare back back at this embodiment of force and movement, this unbearable weight.
Then it was gone and I was back on the beach.
The sense of what I'd felt lingered though; waves crashing, the tide coming in and receding endlessly, tearing down cliffs and eroding coastlines, ever shifting and ever… changing.
I blinked as the force came and went again, that word sticking in my mind: Change. It had been the concept of creation that I'd felt in the lab, what had been crystalized in the impression. But creation, that was just an aspect of change as a concept, and that word put a term to what the Blue was, and from that pieces clicked together.
The colors were conceptual.
A smile pulled at the corners of my lips as the realization sank in, the implications of it growing.
But, as was more immediately relevant...
I looked down at the receding water. I'd wanted more Blue to work with, hadn't I? More Blue, and more water.
I slowly knelt, thinking about what I was going to do, and sank my hands into the receding water, feeling it running between my fingers and dragging sand out with it, and when the water came back I my fingers closed around it.
I stared down the force that had shaped the continents and pulled.
—
5.4k... I swear, this was only supposed to be 3k max.
A/N: Happy Belated New Years everyone!
Now, sadly, this isn't an update as intended since 2018 decided to give me one last gut punch and have been laid out for the last few days.
BUT! While not a story update, it is a story status update. So here we go.
Being entirely honest, I didn't have too much of a plan in starting this out beyond the broad strokes and C'est La Vie has just been slowly trundling along since then, I've been working on it and updating when I can (ignoring the unintended hiatus). That said, over a year old now and after working on the outline these past few weeks, I've managed to finish off the overall outline for C'est La Vie and parsed that out into an update schedule. One snip every two weeks over the next year, or one snip every 18.25 days to allow for hiccups, and this story will be finished by this day next year.
Yeah, my update schedule up till now is, generously put, atrocious, but by god I will finish this fucking thing one way or another.
That said, I wish all of you a good year and hope to see what you think as things progress.
PseudoSim