ARTIO

THE PLANT MASTER

By either fantastic or terrible luck, the next group to which Artio drifted was Fahl's. She arrived, pausing at the edge of the forest with a deliberate air of mystery. Maybe she'd been attempting some sort of mystique--something to enhance her impression of omnipresent power--but it quickly dissolved upon her seeing what was happening to Fahl. She winced, and hurried her way into the Monarch's shade and to Fahl, sparing barely a nod for Calamity's cast of magic. Her concern was obviously with the large reptile who'd just stripped part of his own flesh.

The Master swept into a leaf-rustling kneel beside him, reaching out a bark-brown arm with caution. She pulled back before touching, her expression one of consternation, before the hand dipped into her forested robes. Whether those were clothing or body was hard to say, but it seemed that they had pockets, or at least medicinal plants, for a moment later (with another expression that said she was thinking over what exactly to use), Artio withdrew a gob of green goop. This she reached out again, slathering it--if allowed--over the fresh and jagged white wound.

"Here. Do not move. It ought to help the pain, and speed some healing, if you do not return to your gemstone," she offered gently. And if he allowed it, it would be a brief sting and then a cooling, numbing sensation, doing exactly as described. It seemed to be some sort of sap mixture, perhaps.

Then she stood, brushing her hand off on her own leaves, and looked around. "Are you all right? I must see to the other groups."

There was a cold distance to her concern, a practicality, but Fahl had proven useful once before and she was hardly about to let him suffer here, while he was aiding her again.

Current Scores:
Rift, Titanite & Clementine: 60
Maw, Larkspur & Marigold: 46
Fahl, Chorus & Calamity: 44

The next and final GM post will take place on September 14th!

Clementine watched carefully as Rift split fruits and showed her the ferns the flowers. This all sounded much more her speed and very much less strain on her already aching spine. She grinned brightly, "Yes, please! That's very kind of you." She didn't know what to expect from meeting others after leaving the machine. Yet, she was very quickly learning that others were kind, that they were sweet and always ready to teach.

Not even her aches could dampen her mood, her little tail wagging as Rift moved at check Titanite. She approached a bushel of ferns, and gave the plant a good shake! They were much lighter than soil and dirt, less straining. So, rather than stopping again, she found herself prancing from bush to bush; giving them all a good old rustle!

Admittedly, she was getting a little carried away and not watching where the seeds were landing, or if they were being released at all. But, its with bright, childish enthusiasm that she set upon her task.

The Master's attention had drifted away, Marigold noted with panic, as Artio disappeared into the greenery to check up on the rest - they weren't working hard enough. They were losing.

The idea was mortifying, even to Ms. Gildenleaf, who at this point had nothing left to lose. They stirred to action, clawing up more mulch so hard their nails threatened to break. Thankfully, they did not, and Marigold was close to doubling the hole count around The Eyes - watch your step!

He watched over the other two working, nodding to Clementine and then stepping over to watch the Titanite work. Mushrooms were growing up from the earth - perhaps not plants, but as part of a healthy ecosystem as anything. They would help clear out the dead plants that Mother had left behind. "Thank you," he replied to Titanite, warmly. "That's a good idea, keep a balance of growth and decay in the area." He looked at the creature for a moment, marveling at its make. It looked as if it had been carved out of wood, an imagery that made him happy. "Have you always been living here? I know this is a strange thing to ask but...what are you?" He wondered if it would let him touch him, if only to feel if he were real bark or not. Fascinating...

But he still had a job to do, of course, and as he talked, he worked. Over the areas that Clementine buried fruits and seeds, and where he had pulled plants to emerge, he now encouraged them to flourish. Ferns and bushes and glowers began to grow rapidly, the magic spread out over the area to bring as many up as he could - they were not full-grown, but far enough aged to be thriving.

As the magic released, he stumbled back, a wave of exhaustion overtaking him. That had been...a lot.

Concerned with their own growth, the Chorus didn't initially pay much mind to Fahl, it was only a mental nudge from The Consul that they realized something was awry. Looking through their familiar's eyes, the sang sympathy through their network. The rat could smell blood in the air, and the sight of blood and exposed flesh beneath scales was a grizzly sight.

But there was nothing else they could do - Artio had it handled. They continued to spread beneath the soil, their work mostly invisible at the moment, but it would accomplish three goals: encourage more mycelial growth to bolster the local ecosystem, give them a monitor of this area over potential interference by Order, and, of course, their own selfish goal of growing larger and larger.

They made good work, expanded themselves quite far in this time. All while helping - everybody wins!

Their stillness had not gone unnoticed—someone's eyes had fixed on them, staring blankly. Expectantly? Raindrops began to fall from the air, and Larkspur abandoned their efforts to summon water to acknowledge Marigold's attention instead. "Looks like someone beat me to it—was gonna try to water the plants," they laughed, shrugging off the failure.

No time for dwelling on that when there was more gardening (and competing) to do! The moistened, disturbed soil would be perfect for new seeds to grow, and Larkspur could even help make more. They pushed a surge of magic into an already-blossoming shrub, watching with almost light-headed satisfaction as it developed clusters of hanging berries before their eyes. Whew! They deserved a little treat after that, surely. A hop and a flutter and a precise tug, and Larkspur enjoyed the tangy-sweet flavor bursting in their bill as they took a first taste for themself. Mmm, one spell for twice the reward: feeding the community and producing the next generation of plant seeds. Just another glimpse into Larkspur's creative and genius mind!

CALAMITY

so all the things can grow

It would observe for a while as Artio tended to Fahl's wound. Artio fascinated it, and it wondered if she was some kind of animated tree or simply had a personal garden similar to Calamity's own. It wasn't too keen on starting a conversation with her, though- she was rather intimidating, and it wasn't sure if it wanted to risk the effort on such a unsure target.

It would continue to use it's magics to coax seeds into sprouting, minding the areas already crowded with The Chorus's fruiting bodies.

Fahl's throat and jaw were tense from the effort of holding back any pained noises. Teeth ground against each other, some scraping against the soft inside of his mouth while he remained rigid and staring at the wound marring his foot. Artio arriving at the scene was a whisper compared to the static filling his mind at the moment, so her offer of aid was just barely registered by a slight shift of his eyes in her direction. Paralyzed by a potent combination of shock and disgust, her instructions to not move proved for the most part unnecessary; other than a small jolt at the first touch of the salve against flesh, the iguana remained rooted to the spot, still processing the injury his slip of competence had manifested.

A few seconds passed before muscles loosened. Then another few went by before Fahl swallowed and mustered the willpower to speak. "I..." He hesitated, but determination to not be seen as one so easily weakened by a minor wound forced further words out. "I'll be fine. Ah... thank you."

He repressed the sigh building in his chest and pulled his gaze away from the now coated injury. It'd be an idiot's idea to execute an encore for this fantastic gory blunder. Maybe he'd try fetching water again later on, but for now, sticking to his element was a comfort he dearly needed. Injured front foot set aside for the moment, the intact one pressed its claws into the dirt. Gentle warmth rippled out where it hopefully might settle far enough into the soil to stimulate growth.