middaeg | ( CLOSED ) where the fields are painted gold

(( AEFENGLOM FARMS; 10/11; noon ))

[ The first farmhand he talks to tells him about an infestation that has hundreds of teeth, I'm tellin' ye, and shows him -- almost a bit too eagerly -- exactly what those teeth did to his finger. Geralt presumes a living creature. A natural assumption. Which means he's wrong. They are not, as the next woman he talks to shows him, creatures. Not exactly. Though they are living.

When they show him the problem, the vines are everywhere. They curl across the patch of farmland, twisting into gnarled knots that sprout bright orange bulbs. As he studies them and tries to decide how best to proceed, a sparrow lands on one gourd. It opens up its fleshy orange maw and promptly devours the bird in a spray of blood and feathers.

Geralt crouches down by the vines. Is he getting paid enough for this? Feels like he's not getting paid enough. He should've asked for more.

He picks up a feather. About the only thing remaining of the bird. ] Unfortunate choice of perch.

Edited 2020-10-11 05:52 (UTC)

[Not much really surprises Maria anymore. She's been here long enough to get a feel for the oddities, magical and otherwise, that tend to pop up. So when there's a little problem she's pointed to, and she finds a patch of - Well, they're somethings. Somethings that like to eat birds. - she isn't exactly surprised, but she also isn't pleased, either.

Guess that's what it meant, when they'd put up the help wanted ad.

She's not alone, though. Geralt's voice rumbles out into the air, and Maria turns toward him a bit. They're plants, so they're not exactly mobile, so she's not expecting them to be able to lunge and attack... even if she's had experiences with plants being able to move surprisingly swiftly before.]

That it was. Quite a bad infestation. I wonder if they waited too long to call for help, or if these things are particularly virile.

[ Bad is an understatement. They're curling through most of the pumpkins. It's obviously not a job for one, which seems to be the case for most problems around these parts. These days, he's gotten a little more used to having company on a contract. Even if it's not his preference.

Still, Maria gets a nod in acknowledgement. They've only spoken once, and he deliberately hasn't asked about how much she knows of his previous existence. Not his concern. He's learned more than enough from Ciarán. ]

My estimate? Both.

[ He gets up, letting the feather flutter to the ground. The gourd looks innocent with its teeth tucked away. Aside from the small splatter of blood. ]

Woman I spoke to said they grow back twice thick when they're cut off.

[If he doesn't ask, she won't tell him. She just wanted to know if he remembered his last time, and that doesn't seem to be the case, so... moving on with life.

Actually, they seem to get along better this time. Even if he's still as gruff as before. She'll take it - much as she doesn't care for the concept of... companions. That she admits to.]

Sounds, then, like simply yanking them out will not be enough. We'll need to burn the root system. [Luckily, she is a fire Witch. That'll make it a little eaier.] But we should probably cut out as much as we can first. I doubt they grow back immediately. [She eyes the gourd, the rivulet of blood leaking from the corner of its "mouth"]

... I hope you brought nice, thick gloves.

[ If it can't be killed with a blade, then fire would probably do. A simple but effective philosophy. ]

Mm. [ He does, in fact, have gloves on him. Along with a hunting knife, which he pulls out and begins slicing through the first vine. The fleshy bulb opens its mouth. Rows of teeth flash in a soundless scream.

Mildly unsettling. He sniffs the plant now that its limp in his hand. Nothing unusual. Just blood and a hint of pumpkin. ] Carnivorous gourds have always been on my dining list.

[ He hadn't planned on weeding when he took his job, but here he is. Where the fuck did these even come from? They can't have sprouted naturally.

Then again, he's long suspected some witches here have been experimenting with the flora and fauna. Given the blind badger bushes he'd come across not too long ago, either. ]

Edited 2020-10-20 13:35 (UTC)

Well now you have me curious what they taste like.

[Surprisingly matter-of-fact voice for as surreal as the statement is, in some ways. Still, she has one of her daggers - the one Fugo got her the previous winter. That should work just as well as a knife to start untangling the thick thatches.] I'm going to start working this way. We can make a bit of a perimeter so we don't burn good crops. Once we get a bit of a clearing, we'll just take out the center.

[Well 'we', but it's mostly Maria.]

I've yet to have supper.

[ Like Maria, it's difficult to tell if he's being serious or not. He gives a nod, getting to work without further ado.

He starts in the other direction, so they cover more ground. It's a quiet, steady task, which suits him just fine: each time he grasps one of the plants, its maw opens with its rows of dozens of sharp teeth. At one point, a field mouse is swallowed whole just like the bird.

Eventually, he reaches Maria again, with a good chunk of the hungry vines having been separated. He eyes the field. It's been unspoken between them, that she'll do the burning. Only one of them is a witch. ]

You can control the flames? [ He doesn't want to go back to the farmers with their missing toes and fingers and tell them that while the problem is technically resolved, their field's been scorched to shit. ]

[And she works just as studiously, and just as silently, until they meet again in the center. She tosses a handful of dying vines into the center of what will likely be quite the conflagration once she gets it going.

His question is a fair one, and she nods.] I should be able to control it. Still, we created a buffer zone in case anything gets away from me, and I'll start... in a section rather than all at once. We'll work quickly, though, to prevent what is left from spreading.

[She motions.] I'll be concentrating on the flames, though, so your attention to make sure nothing strange happens would be appreciated. And that nothing wanders into the path of the fire. [She may be the Witch here, but a second set of eyes wouldn't hurt.]

Stranger than feasting gourds?

[ Fair enough. Guess he'll let her take care of it. It's irritating his own signs have no effect here. As much as he's grown used to it, it's still a part of his arsenal that's permanently missing.

He leaves the toothy gourds, but a few of the severed vines go in his pocket. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that plenty of researchers exist around these parts. They like their odds and ends.

Straightening up, Geralt tips his head: an invitation for her to get started. He follows along to keep an eye out. In theory, the vines will burn. Simple. But there's every possibility they'll sense a threat, grow more vicious. ]

Strange for fire. [She says that with the tiniest hint of humor; The kind that would be easy to miss in the span of a blink.

Because Maria hasn't really shown much of a sense of humor to this point, and really, she doesn't actually have much of one at all. What little there is tends to be like this.

She works in sections, to ensure she can keep full, proper control over everything. Starting with one portion of the patch, she burns into the thick of the infection (lamenting the loss of whatever good crops may be under them; but the farmers likely want the gourds out more than they want what little may be salvaged of their regular pumpkins), and slowly works more and more fire into it, and lets it spread back and deeper into the patch. Once the burning starts to taper off a bit, she moves around some more, slowly circling.

It's more difficult than she anticipated. The lack of a Monster on the other end of a Bond to help her concentrate and control it is working against her, but she sets her jaw and resolves to see this done.

Eventually, she has the entire thing burning, and most of it is working its way inward, where it'll isolate and burn itself out naturally. She can afford to step back a moment and see if Geralt is seeing anything she's not. Anything he can't handle himself. She assumes he knows how to toss some dirt on a small fire.] How did it fare?

( CLOSED ) where the fields are painted gold

lady maria.

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