[CLOSED PLAYER MINI-EVENT] Citrus Quest: The Search for Citron

[amourtician]

Who: the people who signed up, plus Lev/Lyubov, Anzu and also Darcy
What: an expedition to gather citrus, and other tropical fruits
Where: Paradesium
When: vaguely backdated to the last week of September

(OOC: feel free to set up prompts during moments not explicitly described, but that would've logically happened — like descending into Paradesium from the caves. There'll be additional prompts going up later, as the expedition progresses.)

Day One: Departure
On a foggy morning in late September, the much-delayed Paradesium expedition is finally ready to set off.

At 5 AM, Anzu is at the arranged meeting spot on the Town Green — just in front of the fountain — along with the camping gear leased from the town hall and from Dr Coldwood. He's pacing around, tense and full of nervous energy, eager to get going ... and besides himself with impatience, since the actual departure is scheduled for after the sun begins to rise. He's turned up early (way too early) to make sure everything is ready, and is now waiting for others to show up.

Lev/Lyubov is dozing in a deck chair they borrowed from the beach, the straps of the tfiln still wrapped around their head and their right arm, and a siddur and their husband's tfiln bag in their lap.

As the sun begins to rise and everyone has gathered and a headcount has been taken, the expedition sets off towards Crane's Ridge. The day is shaping up to be chilly but clear — the sun's pale rays have dispersed the fog.

Anzu falls back and wanders around the ragged column of explorers, checking in with everyone and introducing himself to those he's not had a chance to meet face to face before. He's relaxed some, and the nervous energy has been replaced by frank excitement. He's curious about what Paradesium is like ... and maybe a little too quick to dismiss any potential dangers. After all, how dangerous could a subterranean forest be, in comparison with everything else on and around the isle?

Day One: Setting Up Base Camp

Once the expedition has descended into Paradesium and gotten to a clearing, Anzu calls for a brief halt to take a second head count, and satisfies himself that everyone is accounted for. Compared to his exuberance early that morning, he seems a little subdued and a little awkward — it has finally sunk in that he's going to have to take some charge of the expedition. Leadership is not his forte, after all.

Seeing his hesitation, Lev/Lyubov lays a hand on their husband's shoulder and bends down so they're more or less face-to-face. The height difference, usually quite glaring, seems particularly egregious in that moment, as Lev/Lyubov has to fold themself almost in half.

They briefly confer in Yiddish. Satisfied that they've got both permission and blessing, Lev/Lyubov raises their voice just a little — and oh, does their voice carry, even without the acoustics of a shul.

"Oy, may I like, have your attention, if you'd all be so good? Right. I think like, we ought to establish a base camp here, rather than farther in. Once it's up, anyone what wishes may explore further, but I suggest that we stray not too far from here, at least the first day. I'm sure that like, Phil shall go find anyone what gets lost, but getting lost would be embarrassing, and the wrong way to start off."

They look around at the assembled, and awkwardly clear their throat, ducking their head.

"After lunch, we can meet to figure who'll go scout out potential routes, and take a vote on how to proceed. Or like, at least have a big argument about what to do and like, have to find a compromise on purpose, instead of waiting for one to materialise out of the aether," they pause, bite their lower lip, and clarify, "sorry, like. Been to too many workers' council meetings. The argument is like, optional."

Anzu raises an eyebrow at his husband, then squeezes their hand, and whispers something to them. Lev/Lyubov blushes brighter.

"Well, darlings! Any objections?" Anzu says. "If anyone here's got the relevant experience, they ought speak up before we all blunder into a mandatory ghost convention."

Day One: Evening/Night Watch

The camp is set up, the expedition members have all had enough time to meet each other and ascertain that there's no deadly grudges among them; Anzu is more or less satisfied that things are going well, but he's restless. Mindful that he shouldn't wander off alone, he contents himself with wandering around the base camp's perimeter, still technically within the camp itself ... but at a little distance from where most of everyone else is congregating. It's less that he can find nothing to do just now, to mitigate the restlessness, and more that he needs some time to think, to plan the next move.

The day moves towards evening. He notes down several likely directions in a notebook, and casts one final look around, before conceding to himself that he ought to call a meeting.

Once everyone has gathered, he's brief and to the point: "I've identified three possible routes from here. I suggest we break up into groups, nu? With sending stones and our, ah, aerial division," he nods at Phil, "it should be little trouble keeping in touch."

He pauses, double-checks the notes he made and adds, "ah, the last route ... it's one I'd prefer to explore myself. I've found a trail that leads, as far as I can ascertain, to a cave system. There may be a passage deeper into the underground. A second level, of sorts. Anyone what minds not some proper spelunking, I'd appreciate the assistance, darlings."

Day Two: Morning Recoinessance
Coming soon (along with prompts for the other days).

Comments

[saltwaterlungs]

It's not a long hug, Darcy separates after a moment, but there's a feeling like another barrier has come down between them, another thing they have in common. Their dad is gender-weird too. They struggle to remember if there was ever a dream where he was a lady, but if there was one it isn't one they've circled over enough to commit to memory.

When they separate, Darcy squats down by the caterpillar.

"Monsieur Wiggler, that's Phil," they introduce her, "she's my dad."

[goodweather]

Ah. Oh. Oh.

Muttering it to himself in the mirror just to try it on is one thing. Hearing Darcy say it with the whole of their voice is--he's not sure what he's feeling, to be honest. Embarrassment? Hesitance? Delight? All three? He--she can't stop smiling. That's got to be a good sign, right?

"I'm really gonna have to get used to that," she says, fingers loosely curled over her lips.

[saltwaterlungs]

Yeah, that'll be the gender euphoria, that feeling like cracking open a boarded window to let the light in, all the dust that kicks up and seeing things you haven't seen in a while. Darcy grins in turn, the strangeness of the jungle already somehow feeling less hostile. Weird can be good. They like being Phil's kid-son-daughter and they like Phil being their mum-dad and it's... good. Feels like something they were denied in their old life, the joy of experimenting and testing things out. When they came out back on the ship, it was something that they thought had to be already resolved, but Phil's offering the chance to be a part of it while it's still new.

It feels nice to be trusted with it. Even if Darcy feels entirely unequipped to help with any part of femininity.

"Well. I'm going to be annoying about it. You can tell Dimitri and Ruby when we get back, then we can all use it around the house. If you want, I mean, just while you're trying it out."

[goodweather]

"Uh-huh--uh--yeah, um. Yeah." He said himself that he's still the same person, and he still stands by that, but even realizing he was bisexual didn't feel like this big of a shift. And it's not even that big of one. "She" is a sometimes food. He's--she's been settled in her selfhood for decades. It's just that something like this is just... there's going to be some growing pains, for sure.

"Yeah," stunned like a broken record, "yeah. Um. Go ahead. Do whatever you want." She's my dad. She's my dad. "We'll tell them when we get back."

She looks back at camp, then at the way they came, and thinks, inanely, of underworlds. How throughout all of human history, the world beneath has been used as a place to delve for secrets, or dredge up otherworldly treasures, or to hide and protect what is loved and what is hated. The journey below is one into an alien place. They even made a word for it: katabasis. Orpheus came out changed.

It's a ridiculous thought. This has had absolutely nothing to do with the underworld or caves. All of the work was done above, at home. All she's done now is tell Darcy. They're not even that deep down. They've only just got here. And yet.

Call it a metamorphosis, and the sheltered senseless jungle a chrysalis. Call it shedding one more old skin. Call it Phil losing her mind because she has to justify how massively weird she feels. This would never have even been a spark of a thought in 40-year-old Phil's empty skull.

[saltwaterlungs]

And in the Underworld, always, there is psychopomps and guides who have walked this way before. Maybe that's weird to be doing for someone as old as Phil, but Darcy is practically her trans elder, even if that's only by... what, a year? Darcy's road was much easier comparatively. They'd been feeling like a mutant among girls for years prior to the ship, and then eventually hit a point of 'fuck it' where they didn't care what anyone else thought. It's a journey that has been worn in by Darcy's time, there were plenty of people their age who transitioned, even if they only saw them online.

So they're happy to lead her through what will probably be more difficult comparatively. There is always another underworld, another thing that turns you from what you could imagine yourself to be.

"I think I'm going to name the next bug we find after myself."

[goodweather]

"And become the bane of entomologists everywhere who can't remember what the bug does because it's named after a person, I see."

She mostly knows this from listening to the frustrations of a medical student about the amount of things called "[Name]'s Syndrome", but she figures the same idea applies in other fields, too.

(She. She. She.)

Phil tugs Darcy towards her for another quick hug and a ruffle of their hair. "C'mon. Let's go find a big one we can scare people with."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Only if you carry it," Darcy quips back, because yeah no, ghosts and dead bodies are one thing, bugs are another. If it has too many legs, they're out.

As they're walking-

"Has this... is this recent or have you been thinking about it for a bit?"

[goodweather]

"Deal."

She looks up in thought. "It's been a while. I've been thinking about it since... since April? On and off. I only got more serious about it when I slipped up and called myself your mom last month. So it's definitely... new. Just trying things out."

[saltwaterlungs]

'slipped up'? Not like Darcy's going to point that out, but. They guess it is kind of weird, with her the way she is and all. God, they hope she doesn't ask for tips on make-up or anything, she probably won't because there's a hundred people on the island better at any semblance of femininity than them, but the part of them that wants her to ask knows they won't be any help. She's already better with clothes and that sort of thing than they were before Avery got to them.

"I guess it would be weirder if I was calling you mum and you didn't at least think about it. Gender is weird."

[goodweather]

"Yeah, it is weird. Really weird."

She scratches the back of her neck.

"Like I said, I'm still a man. I don't have any wardrobe plans or anything. Maybe I'll feel differently later, but right now, I don't expect things to change that much. I thought about it, and I think I only like 'she' and 'mom' when... when I'm how I normally am? Being a big dumb ol' guy who wears suits and has the regular guy haircut and needs to shave. I don't think I want to be a woman. Or in between."

She glances at Darcy. "Is that--is that too weird?"

[saltwaterlungs]

Flatly, "I'm dead and you have owl wings. The station for 'too weird' was like five hours back. We've crossed the border like ten times and are probably somewhere in like, whatever the weirdness equivalent Eastern Europe is in this metaphor by now. Definitely not in fucking Kansas."

Which is all to say,

"I didn't change my name, I'm not on hormones, and I'm growing my hair out. By some people's judgement I'm doing a shit job at being trans, but also like. Fuck those guys? Who gives a shit. If you stay like this forever, good, if you wake up tomorrow wanting to be a woman or something else, good, you're still my mum-dad-thing or whatever."

[goodweather]

There’s a deep, breathy chuckle that comes out of her chest. Okay, good. Good. It’s a good sign if Darcy is getting prickly and defensive over her against the world.

“Yeah, yeah. I am. That’s good, that’s good, I just wanted to be sure.” She kicks a piece of loose rotten wood down the path. “And you probably already know this, but the same goes for you.”

[saltwaterlungs]

"Good. I didn't drag your ass out of the ocean for you to get a better offer on another kid."

...

"Sorry, I had leftover indignant-ness."

They pause after Phil kicks the wood, just listening for a moment. It's probably not louder than them talking, but just in case it hit a snake or something. Or worse. With no apparent danger spotted,

"I... I've been meaning to talk to you about- actually that's stupid I'm just going to say it. I want top surgery and I think if I'm already being useless over winter I may as well get it then and spend the months that recovery will take just, you know, hibernating."

[goodweather]

“Oh, yeah.” She thinks for all of three seconds before deciding that all Darcy needs from her is approval (frankly they don’t even need that, they’re an adult) and if there’s anything that might complicate, leave it up to the actual medical professionals.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I bet Watson would be more than capable. And he’s proven more used to the tools available here. Or, y’know, Hawkeye specializes in chest and general? And is from further along? But—well, either one should be fine.”

[saltwaterlungs]

Flatly, "I don't want that guy seeing me with my shirt off."

Qualifies, quickly- "he's fine. He's just trying really hard to be nice whenever I see him in a like, 'please think I'm cool' way and I don't want jokes made about being cut open. I don't like doctors at the best of times."

Considering what they both went through and Darcy's own past, the fact they can be okay around doctors is half of a miracle.

"Watson's fine. Watson's cool. He was always nice."

[goodweather]

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought.” They’re both more familiar with Watson in a lot of ways. The Hawk suggestion was mostly just for options. (Is he really trying to jazz up her kid?)

“He is cool. We’ll get into contact after this trip, ehn?”

[saltwaterlungs]

"I'll do it," Darcy corrects just slightly. Obviously they wanted Phil support, but they want the feeling of independence by doing it theirself. Organising a doctors appointment is something they're going to have to work out for theirself for real, and not just in this weird detour of their life.

"It's not a big deal. It'll be, like, a two second phone call."

[goodweather]

“Stone call,” she quips, but that correction is noted. It’s weird, becoming a parent to someone who is already trying to become independent. Sometimes it feels like she missed out on something. Other times, she’s relieved that she never had someone entirely dependent on her to be alive, or their development as a whole and sane person. Phil still doesn’t believe she’d have done as well as people seem to think. (In some ways, Darcy made it easy; in retrospect, she can’t have done worse than everyone else they picked up as a dad.)

“So, two pieces of gender news to bring home. Think Rubes and Dimitri are gonna wonder what was in the water down here?”

[saltwaterlungs]

At the pun-

"I will make sure neither of us make it back from this walk, I swear to God," there's no teeth behind it.

And then a dry snort.

"Obviously the conservatives are right. It's contagious. Dimitri's next."

That's like 90% a joke.