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"Biomass does not sound appetizing." Bea objects but with a laugh. She looks to Phylax "What's a tucker btw"? Rhys gives Beatriz a lopsided grin. "Tucker! You know, a sanga; snag; brekkie; chook; bikkie! We could run to Maccas if you like. For food."
Rhys thinks about the logistics of grabbing a few burgers and making their way to his underwater lab. "Yeah, we can do takeaway and go to the lab, as long as the tucker is wrapped up watertight." He debates inwardly about choosing between inviting Beatriz to join him in his lab or following Vitória's lead. "...Or we could check out the Fruit Club. Sounds like they got food."
Rhys wrinkles his nose when Beatriz mentions food. "That rules out my lab, then. But that's fine; I could eat too."
Phylax picks his way out of the worst of the waterlogged areas, assisting people struggling with the receding waters as needed. Once in a less flood-struck area, he wrings out his hoodie and looks to Beatriz, Ozcoyo, and Vitória. "So, I don't know about you mates, but I want to go someplace dry for a breather. Anyone want to come with?"
Phylax meets the Paling's eyes as her spoken truth about the Guard spark a fear in him that the Master Spore would be targeting them or the Guard's handlers -- if it hasn't gotten to them already. Part of him wanted to get to know them better to find out if they could be a help, but if they were compromised keeping them at arm's length would most likely be wiser. Looking at the enigmatic Beatriz, he pushes those worries aside and his tired smile gets a little more energy. He'd rather stick with his current mates. "Too right. Besides, we did all the heavy lifting and they stood there and they stood there and watched like a bludger."
"Nap first," Phylax says in response to the idea of them going to apply to the Guard. He still marvels at the fact that he's capable of throwing cars around, and takes comfort in the fact that he can still get tired. Offering a wet, tired smile to the others, he offers them a thumbs up. "Way to go team. That's one sewage monster, flushed."
Phylax issues a weary sigh, but continues to chuck big objects into the whirlpool to keep if from forming while making sure he doesn't drop a sedan on Vitória as she's slicing the water. "Watch your left!" he shouts before sending another that lands way too close to her. "Sorry!
"Disrupt a whirlpool? That can't be easy. Maybe if we put something big enough in it?" Phylax tries to shove waterlogged vehicles into the current, hoping they'll disrupt the water formation.
Phylax is about to start looking for where Arèspina washed off to when he spots the tall humanoid on a far building. When the pale girl rolls into a ball, he moves over to her and puts a reassuring hand lightly on her shoulder while keeping an eye on the strange figure. "Hey B, it's all right. I think we won, but we've got an audience. Plus, we got to find Arèspina before she drowns in all this. I could really use some help," he offers, hoping that giving the Paling a purpose will cut short her breakdown.
"Power lines! Good idea!" Phylax confirms, then sloshes toward the nearest pole. Figuring that it'd be easier to bring the power lines to the monster than the monster to the power lines, he wraps his arms around the wooden pole and yanks it upwards! Then he uses it like a massive club, bringing it down on Tietê!
If no one Teams me:
Rhys waves back to Beatriz, making a moment of eye contact in the midst of the chaos. The rampaging monster interrupts immediately and he gets to work. "We going to start hitting it? See if that works?" he shouts to Vittoria. Assuming he gets a go ahead, he uses his superhuman strength to hoist up a waterlogged car and chuck it at Tietê.
"Oi!" Rhys shouts as he sees the water monster, and his mates already on the scene trying to fight it. He lets the fungal growths exude from his skin to create a protective sheath (and to hide his identity) while trying to get an understanding of what he's seeing. He taps into the mycelial networks of mold and other fungal growths to gain some insight to this creature, risking his humanity.
Rhys' upper lip curls in a half-hearted approximation of a smile in response to the sheriff's quip. He doesn't add anything else, glad to have the chance to leave, and makes his way out of the station trying to look unhurried. Once out on the street, Rhys sighs as his conscience nags at him about the flooding. He had bigger issues at the moment, didn't he? If he was called upon to act, pushing himself might cause the fungus to spread further; he shouldn't risk it. But what if I could help? I could go check it out, make sure it's all in hand. And what did the delegado mean by it? If it shows up? He pulls out his phone and calls up the Ipiranga on the maps app to get an idea of where he should go. He could just follow the sirens but he didn't want any of them to catch a glimpse of him while he races through the streets. Once he finds a route that seems best he starts running, letting the mycelial fibers in his leg muscles amplify his strength and speed to inhuman levels and soon the buildings are racing by.
Rhys blinks away the vision, rubbing his face to make it appear he was still shocked from seeing the pictures of José and Doutora. Which, to be truthful, he still was. But the new questions he suddenly had were not helping his focus. He silently wished he could end the interview, and suddenly got his wish. He didn't quite get the importance of the interruption, but whatever it was Rhys was grateful to put this interrogation on hold for the time being. Rhys jumps at the chance to leave though he's careful not to appear overly eager. As he throws the backpack over his shoulder, he makes casual conversation. "The Ipiranga, that's the river, isn't it?" he asks innocently. "Sounds like trouble. Don't worry, I'll stay far away."
Rhys frowns at the pictures and list of names, clearly shown to draw a reaction from him. The names of the two bodies surprised him; he wasn't sure if anyone else had managed to escape the infection. Whether José or Doutora had been able to resist long enough to try an unsuccessful escape or if they had drowned in the river trying to catch him was anybody's guess. The twelve others who are missing didn't fill him with hope. "Well, there's hope that they'll be found. We weren't a bunch of amateurs. It was a well-financed, prepared expedition. What we found, I'm guessing, is a new species. But I'm not the lead, so I don't get to make that call." Rhys' eyes fall on the bracelet and he goes still, taking measured breaths. The reason for his distrust in the sheriff suddenly takes off in a new and dangerous direction. Before his reaction becomes too obvious, he grabs a few of the pictures of the expedition and makes a show of studying them. With his eyes away from Delegado Machado, Rhys focuses on the strands of mycelia within him, conjuring up the alien knowledge within the fibers.
Rhys finds his leg bouncing up and down, so he wills it to be still. Leaning over the table, he says, "Well, my studies are kind of relevant. You see, there are some dangerous fungi. Dangerous to humans, I mean. Fungi break down organic matter, decomposing it. Some species don't even wait 'till you're dead. What do they call athlete's foot in Brazil? It's a kind of fungus that's relatively harmless, if treated properly." He leans back, afraid to find looks of impatience on the sheriff. "All right, I've got a point to this. I promise. Other kinds of fungus have chemicals that are hallucinogenic to humans. Shrooms, magic mushie, liberty tops, blue meanies? You know, that kind of stuff. But for those, you got to ingest them to get the psychotropic chemicals into your system. "But imagine a type of fungus that sends the psilocybin out in their spores. You don't have to eat them, you just accidentally breath it in. And start getting bonzer ripped -- I mean, hallucinating. Or, what if there's a fungus that infects humans and constantly produces psilocybin, pumping it into their system?" He leans back, holding up his hands in a helpless gesture. "The expedition went stark raving mad and ran off. Some I think went into the jungle. I ended up in the water. Maybe others did too, and I got lucky. I'm Australian, and we know how to swim, and stay alive in the water." Rhys offers a crooked smile that quickly turns into one of worry. "Did you find traces of any of them?"
Rhys swivels a chair around and takes a seat, studying Delegado Machado and any other faces in the room with them. "Missed the train, sorry to keep you waiting," he begins, still getting used to being fluent Portuguese. It was obviously a huge benefit, but still indicative of how invasive and transformative the alien fungal spores were to the human mind. Spores that are still in him. Mutated and now separated from the mycelial network, but in him nonetheless. "Well," he begins while wondering if that same network had made its way into the police force, "can I review my earlier statement? I was still pretty traumatized after everything. I'm feeling better, but there are still nightmares. And I haven't left Sao Paolo like I was asked, so you know I want to cooperate." He offers a laugh, even though nothing he said was funny. "So, uh, yeah. I'm a graduate student, University of Queensland, Brisbane. Working for my doctorate in mycology. That's fungus. Lot of medicines come from mushrooms. And there are other applications. So, uh, how detailed do you want me to go in my studies?" He keeps watching the sheriff for a sign that he's either infected or just a cop in an investigation.
"Bugger," Rhys mutters as he watches the train recede in the distance. 'S all right, mate, yer just getting all the bad luck out of your system now, he tells himself. Checking the time once more and feeling the urgency of the brief window he has to be on time, he heads towards the office for the meeting. Sprinting once the Civil Police headquarters comes into sight, Rhys slows up right before he passes through the front doors. He eyes the clock nervously as he goes through the security checkpoint and runs his backpack through the metal detector. He wasn't too late he hoped, but as he steps into the large atrium of the headquarters he sees Agente Machado glaring at him from across the room. Rhys smiles and waves, steeling himself for the interview about the missing expedition of which he's the only survivor. No worries. All you gotta do is convince them that there's an invasive fungus that's taking over people's minds that infected the entire expedition and oh, by the way, I'm infected too. Too easy. I probably should have gone to my flat to get the name and number of my contact at the Australian embassy. |
