#DPE

[frostgears]

gardening

you did something stupid and now you're here in your itchy twice-a-year dress uniform in this bright busy room in the regimental HQ trying to figure out if you're going to be yelled at, shot, or promoted. the room's full of folding chairs. apparently not enough furniture in here normally to contain all the suits and all the brass.

your "ops coordinator" ("we don't say 'handler', grunt, it gives the civilians weird ideas") got pulled off for a side conversation two minutes after you got here and you haven't seen her since. you're looking anywhere for a familiar face. you're coming up empty. at least the woman next to you looks equally stressed. she must be civvie, some consultant or other; soft face, masses of curly hair. she's wearing a blazer and slacks with big round dataframes.

"hey," you elbow her. "what are you in for?"

"gods above and below." she sighs. "everything. but today mostly Neryx-9."

"the ag research station. you were there?"

"hardly," she says. "just came up on my huge list of problems."

"creepy shit. i was front and center for it…"

she cocks her head to listen. you explain.

Neryx-9 had been a cluster of greenhouses on the surface. supposed to be vacant, powered down — actually they'd said "mothballed", then looked at you like you were stupid when you asked what a moth was and what they did with their balls. but not vacant. far from it. you went in with a miniframe. first thing you found was the bodies of the grid authority techs that had called it in. purple mold already growing over them.

"it was wrong," you tell her. "not like that white stuff you get when an open nutripak sits in the fridge too long. i mean, i don't know if that would have been better. i just, i don't know, i didn't want to get any of that stuff on me. frame or no. maybe there was some already on me, but didn't want to get it on anyone else. so i backed out, sat in the airlock, thought about calling for extraction. thought better. backed to the wall, cycled my flight jets until it was starting to get warm even inside the frame, thought maybe i'd cook it off me. my ha– ops coordinator asked me what the fuck i was doing. snapped me out of it, i told her, i need fire. incendiaries."

they'd found them, somewhere. support rigged another airlock outside of the main airlock after you'd yelled at them to keep that shit inside. a miniframe-scale plasma cutter for outside construction work, and some purpose-built low-velocity liquid pyrophoric agent rockets.

the woman in the blazer made a face. "we just have those sitting around?"

"starship boarding actions. when we don't want to breach the hull but we do want to use all the oxygen. splashes around, gets everywhere, but nowhere near hot enough to melt anything structural. only used 'em in sims, of course, not like we get a lot of star traffic. horrorshow shit. or i thought it was, before this."

the outside airlock door opened and you'd taken up what they'd brought you.

you stepped over the bodies of the grid techs into hell. purple and orange jungle everywhere. insane external humidity and particle count. dome after hallway after dome of the shit, growing over the grow lights, growing up the walls, into the vents. you could feel it through your frame, through your suit. it was hungry. it wanted in.

"ma'am, compared to that feeling, that pressure, the first giant critter trying to eat my frame was a relief."

six thick legs, triangular jaws, scales and plates all over, massive paddle tail. it had reared out of a pond and tried to drag you back in with it. it wasn't as heavy as you, maybe, but it was mad as hell and a fast mover, and fuck, what right had anything like that to exist in an abandoned greenhouse? you knew you didn't want to be in that filthy water. who knew how deep it was? it'd clog your exhaust, choke your radiators. you twisted around as best you could in its grip, armed your wrist weapon, and blasted a thousand flechettes directly into its face.

"and that stopped it?"

"well, wasn't much left to be stopped, but yeah. and that's when i found it that it had friends and they could smell blood in the water."

she wrinkled her nose in a way that was either a dataframe input gesture or genuine surprise.

"why not just depressurize the domes, at this point?"

"thought about it. i had breaching charges. but… like i said, this stuff felt like it shouldn't get out. there's not much out there, yeah, but i just couldn't. and i had the cutter, and the rockets. so i decided to make it too hot on the shore for them to get me so easy."

you'd turned the artificial jungle into curtains of flame. the big creatures dove back into the water, giving you a narrow path to keep going. in the burning canopy, smaller things flared and dropped; you hadn't seen them moving until they died.

your handler had been screaming at you to get clear, get back to the airlock, but the flames made that a losing proposition. so you kept going in. Neryx-9 was roughly linear. there was another lock on the far side.

"past the labs, it turned out. and maybe some of those corpses in there had been growing these things, but it looked like the shit got away from them and was growing on them. there were these ribbons of orange moss, growing everywhere, out of containers, branching into foam and fabric and dead flesh — i tried to pull it off someone, before i realized they were all dead, and their skin came off in sheets, brown-black and full of tiny holes. charred, but not. think it was acid."

"something like a lichen."

"yeah, maybe? i learned about those in school. you can see 'em out the windows in a lot of places. they grow on rock, right?"

"they do," she says. "useful. so what did you do then?"

"i set the cutter to max spread and i torched a path through to the far airlock. and i don't mind saying, when i noticed the cutter battery and gas cylinder were doing okay, i started spreading it around a lot more. i just. i had to burn it."

"happens that was the right move," she said. "good instinct."

"please tell me someone did something about that shit."

"well," she smiled, "there's you. you know, you're refreshingly simple. like a cat that somehow had the sense to eat an invasive lizard. and since you didn't drag the bits all over, i tasked a solarsat to finish the job. can't beat a pass with an X-ray cloudpiercer beam for that kind of cleanup."

she wrinkles her nose again, and the general murmuring of a dozen conversations in the room changes as people look to the main wall display, which now shows a collection of greenhouse domes sagging as if collapsed by an invisible weight. the rock under them begins to glow.

"what's a cat?" you blurt out, before the words "i tasked a solarsat" have a chance to sink in. like, her, personally?

"an animal. a dumb little predator that associates with humans. from Terra, way before the Catastrophe. we're not ready for them just yet, but maybe someday."

a door opens to your side, and you both turn to see your handler, looking about at the end of her rope, and next to her, her boss, the major, who reports directly to the colonel.

"shit, there you are. look. you're gonna have to answer some questions. and it's not guaranteed you're going down for this, not yet, so just be honest, but for fuck's sake be brief, don't try to understand or interpret—"

both of their faces blanch. like, almost completely bloodless. eyes wide.

the curly-haired woman in the blazer smiles widely. "don't worry," she tells them, "she already did. she's been very helpful. in fact, i think i might like to keep her." she puts a hand on your knee.

"i'm not sure i understand, ma'am?"

"pilot," the major says, "is there a reason you've been occupying the time of the Director of Planetary Ecology? the woman who keeps this entire planet breathing oxygen and eating something other than rocks?"

and now your face must be bloodless too. the DPE? even you know that position. but you can't remember ever seeing a photo.

"oh, she was just telling me how she improvised containment protocols to prevent someone's experiment with Araukan imports from getting out of hand. clever girl. or lucky, at least."

you risk a glance to your side. she's still smiling. the woman who can steer any bioscience research on this planet, cut off power and water and air to anything she deems anathema to the coming ecosystem, commandeer keystone orbital infrastructure and burn habitats like you burned trees.

"i don't think we can possibly say no, Director," your handler says, carefully.

"no," the Director agrees. "you can't." □

[yamasakiko---ji]

果てしなく巨大な風船の中にいる細胞レベルの生物が風船の外から全体を見ることは永遠に出来ない。

[pembrokewkorgi]

The PnJ Cartoon Podcast - The Ant and the Aardvark

In the newest installment of the Pemmy and James Cartoon Podcast, we take a look at DFE's The Ant And The Aardvark, because we're a couple of kooks. https://youtu.be/RH9jMWgZpx0

Posted using PostyBirb

[observatoiredumensonge]

DPE : les propriétaires sacrifiés sur l’autel de l’écologisme

Bientôt, en France, devenir propriétaire sera mission impossible

Temps de lecture = 4 minutes Encore une aggravation pour les propriétaires sacrifiés à cause d’une idéologie très mauvaise et ringarde. Par Sarah-Louise Guille Continue reading DPE : les propriétaires sacrifiés sur l’autel de l’écologisme

[redstonedust]

love characters who are like "this is how the world works. this is how it has to be (because if i'm wrong i have to face what i've done // if i'm wrong i have to face whats been done to me) "

[plan-tq]

Watched parrot's new video yesterday and all i could focus on for quite abit was just squiddo and blockfacts talking about the most random things in the background chat while parrot quite literally is dying

[skunkes]

i dont care about playing fighting games but my favorite thing ever is alt color palettes for characters... this + like cosmetic skins in some games (im thinking about overwatch lmfao) + neopets paintbrushes.... I wish i was good at design so i could make several different versions of my ocs in all these ways cause i loooove that shit so much i love when something is different but the same 🫶

[frostgears]

nose goes

you rubbed the scar on the underside of your columella for the hundredth time that evening and the millionth time in the last three weeks. fucker still itched. some tiny splinter of a dissolvable suture slowly working its way out of your nose, and you'd know no peace until it was ejected. though afterward wasn't looking great either.

---

"hey, newbie," Emerald had said. "we have pretty good health care. get your nose unfucked. i'm tired of looking at it."

"oh," you'd said, dumbfounded, "i can get that fixed? regimental medics said not to bother." it had been bent since you bashed it against the inside of a miniframe with a bad jump booster. they'd said there was a line for operationally necessary care and your nose wasn't messed up enough to even get in it.

the director's raptor of an assistant had cocked her head to the side. you were still learning the specialized biology vocabulary you weren't sure if you'd live long enough to need, but "raptor" seemed right: skinny, sharp features, unclear if she blinked, probably ate lizards.

"military healthcare is shit. don't exceed three gees while healing, don't shove anything up there, don't miss work," she'd said, and flicked a net address to your handheld. a civilian medical appointment.

you should have known that it had been too easy. you'd woken up in a room that hadn't been the one you'd gone to sleep in. more blinking lights and display screens than a frame maintenance bay. and your boss was there. sharp suit, curly hair, looked like she was in a hurry.

"good news, everything went well," she said. "and volunteering saved me a bit of time, so thanks for that. here."

you were still incredibly out of it, but you accepted the vase of mixed flowers. the smell almost put you under again. you'd never smelled anything like this. or maybe you had, but you were suddenly smelling a hundred things on top of it. an incredibly rich roiling blend of scent. grassy, floral, faintly acrid, notes of emergency sealant, hangar moonshine, the smell of the taste of the filler in shipping containers…

"bwuh?" you managed. she'd put something up your damn nose. had to be.

"olfactory and recall augment. it'll adapt with you, to some extent, but it's also pre-biased with hundreds of thousands of Terran and CEZ biochemical presets. one of these flowers doesn't belong. show me."

you'd taken a big sniff, which was stupid and hurt. then you took a few smaller, more careful sniffs. one of the yellow-orange ones was off. not bad. off. like you'd tasted a dozen red Nebula Chews in a row and the last one was supposed to be purple but the factory fucked up the dye.

you plucked the flower from the vase and showed it to her.

"you're probably right," she said. "one of the marigolds is infected with a hybrid xenopathogen. doesn't have a name. something that evolved on one of the CEZ DNA worlds after Terran life was introduced, and that doesn't really get along with our soil bacteria — the CEZ nearly lost that planet. its metabolism produces a volatile compound that'd be useful for detection, except that i can't smell it, nobody else on staff can smell it, and more importantly, our current generation of mass-production biochips can't either. but now you can."

she turned to go, heels clicking on the floor. then she looked back over her shoulder.

"you look a little spooked. you shouldn't be. it's a knockout, can't reproduce without an excess of a dextral amino acid that nothing outside of our labs makes," she said. "keep the flowers."

---

"stop rubbing your fucking nose, newbie," Emerald said from across your restaurant table.

"i have a name," you groused, putting your hands back in your lap, where you could fidget with the edge of the expensive-looking tablecloth instead of decking the barely field-competent backup posing as your dinner date.

"i don't care. people are looking. or they might. so quit it. you find anything yet?"

"not yet." you'd noticed a few unusual scents on the air, but so far they'd all been strictly known compounds and the most noticeable one at this table wasn't exactly mission-related.

the waiter turned up, finally, and presented the next course. you lifted a spoon to your lips. rice. you'd had that plenty of times. several different mushrooms. a rare treat, but just because you couldn't really afford them. and an accent of… cassia, cheap shampoo, hot paint? your new nose wasn't sure what to make of it. but you'd smelled it before.

there was a sample terrarium running Celeq Corporation's proprietary synthetic biology in one of the library labs. Celeq, the Director had said, like many synthetic biologies, was fine. perfectly stable. if your planet didn't have seasons. or weather. or humans. worked fine on her parents' homeworld, because they could never leave the domes.

"i think we're going to want to talk to the chef," you said.

"damn. can i at least finish dinner first?"

"probably. but you can have my risotto. smells like Celeq."

she shrugged and reached over the table to pull your plate over to her side. "not toxic, then, just unsustainably high maintenance. and better you than me with that augment. i already have my nose the way i like it."

"thanks for volunteering me, by the way. all these wonderful things i can never unsmell." you paused, smirked. "you ever read the specs? you know the breadth of the Terran biochem recall?"

"do you have a point."

"yeah. you can relax with the bitch act. i can smell how hot you are for me."

she dropped the fork.

"as if!"

you scratched your nose again. "doesn't lie."

"fuck you," she said. "i'm not hungry any more. let's do this." she stood up and pulled a badge from her slacks, screamed at the waiter: "Directorate of Planetary Ecology! take me to your chef!"

you pulled your pistol. wasn't a frame, but the enzyme pellets were a lot safer inside a hab. "god. you really are out of practice. gun first, threats second…" □

[yamasakiko---ji]

2022-12-7 リブログされた自分の過去記事がたまたま流れてきた。 "眼で見えている現実の世界はカラーなのだけれど、心の中のリアルはモノクロームだということ。" らしい。 相変わらず心の中には何かそういうモヤモヤとしたものがある。

[mleprae]

have you ever draw a creature based on tuberculosis or leprosy

YES YES FOR BOTH

my entire oc lore is just anthrophormophic spec bio bacteria living in the rotting guts of a dying god...

their names are Q'wilqilth-óó and O'bloodus (they're siblings)

[alivehouse]

everytime i remember how they butchered the ending of the descent (2005) for the american release i want to attack people

[razzle-zazzle]

My favorite flavor of teen to young adult creek is when they're so down bad for each other that it makes them insane. Stupid, even.

[wo1vespack]

WHO DID THIS.

i am never clicking on the daylist every again