Earth Zoology, Wednesday

[livingartifact]

Any student arriving into class today would find Jenkins sitting at the table with his head in his hands, looking put out, absolutely surrounded by domesticated dogs humping everything they could get their paws on.

"Hello, students," he said on a prolonged sigh. "I appear to have made a tremendous error in judgement this week. I ought to have gone for slugs, or some other asexually reproducing creature." He looked down at the jack russell terrier on his leg. "That is simply never going to come out of this suit."

The Cryptozoologist's Field Guide, Wednesday, Per 1

[arboreal_priestess]

"So we're all pissed at plants," Verity said. "Unless you're new and haven't figured out why everything is terrible this week, in which case, let me explain. There are some plants and their pollen is an aphrodisiac, so if you've been feeling on edge since Sunday, that's why. And now that we're all mad at plants again, let me introduce you to the swamp bromeliad."

The Danger Shop was once again a marshy swamp and Verity led the class over to a plant easily about a foot high and two in circumference, with purple and blue flowers. It would be pretty, save for the tail sticking out of the top and the odd pulsing motion it exhibited every minute or so.

"This is a swamp bromeliad," Verity announced. "And is what happens when some idiot with more money than sense decides to import an organism to a completely foreign habitat with no thought beyond 'it's pretty.' They were imported for gardens and private collections by people who didn't know what they were doing and they got out. And now they've infested forests and swamps and fens and marshes and have devastated the ecology. Despite their tropical origins, the swamp bromeliad has proven to be remarkably hardy, surviving frost, famine, and even being set on fire. They burn. They just grow back."

The plant pulsated again and another inch or so of tail disappeared. "Due to their long history in the swamps of North America, the swamp bromeliad now presents us with a unique conservation issue. On the one hand, they do not belong here. On the other hand, they have long since eaten many of the mid-sized predators which once kept the tailypo and fricken populations under control. Removing the swamp bromeliad completely would cause an ecological disaster. As you've probably noticed, they are carnivorous plants and the only bromeliad to eat mammals. The swamp bromeliad is not a picky eater. They have been observed eating frogs, snakes, and the occasional bird. None of this is nearly as disturbing as watching a flower digest a deer."

Which she had not programmed in for you, you're welcome. "Swamp bromeliads scatter their seeds by intentionally releasing some prey, after sedating them heavily with their natural juices and attaching seeds to their fur. The stunned, disoriented creature will stagger a certain distance before collapsing and often drowning, since the bromeliad prefers wetlands; this will then provide the seedlings with fertile soil on which to grow. The flowers can live up to three years under good conditions, growing larger with every season. The pollen of the swamp bromeliad has a naturally narcotic effect, and has been described as smelling like apples mixed with strawberries, and is appealing to most mammals, as well as causing them to slowly lose consciousness. Once the prey is knocked out, the bromeliad uses long tendrils to draw it in, envelops it with its petals, and begins the digestive process. Nothing will remain once the bromeliad finishes feeding. Not even the bones."

And with that, the last of the tail vanished into the petals. "These plants can found on swampy ground, in trees, and even on the side of cliffs under some rare circumstances. Flowers will vary in size from a few inches to several feet, and they have sharp, woody "teeth" on their interior petals. As a suggestion, don't kick them. You'll do more damage to your foot than you will the plant."

Library, Wednesday

[era_two_triangle]

Peridot was an actual, literal gemstone with a hard-light projection for a body. Whatever was happening on the island this week, she was not only immune by virtue of being an inorganic object, she was also immune by virtue of finding everything involved with organic reproduction to be seriously icky.

Not that she knew what was going on, really. Some dogs had behaved a little too enthusiastically in class today. People were cranky on the radio. And there was a gremlin in the library attempting to convince her to run away with him and live in the sewers and cracks in the walls forever.

She was going to have to take a pass on that, but she appreciated the offer.

[OOC: Open!]