Fandom High School

Good news, everyone! Today involved yet another field exercise, as the note pinned to the entrance of the Danger Shop informed the students to meet their teachers by the causeway, where they'd be stepping through a portal that would deposit them on the shores of the Owyhee Reservoir, somewhere in the wilds of Oregon near the Idaho border.

...An hour or so before the sun was scheduled to rise. The sky hadn't even begun to lighten, leaving them in the literal dark of night. "Today," Verity said, pulling out her phone and indicating everyone else should, too. Look, the reservoir was far from artificial lights and it got dark in the hinterlands. "We're going to talk about the dangers of messing with the ecosystem. One of the omnipresent dangers of importing animals to a new ecosystem is that they will escape and, due to a lack of natural predators, begin to breed uncontrollably."

( Eyes everywhere )

There was the sound of splashing as some of the eyes began swimming. And rustling in the underbrush as they began moving in.

"And that," Verity said cheerfully, "brings us to manticores."

Back in the Danger Shop today, where a chicken coop was sitting in a field, surrounded by boulders.

She pulled out a bunch of safety goggles and passed them around. "If you look close, you'll see the lenses on your goggles are polarized for your protection. That's because we're dealing with petrifactors today. All members of the Orphion family, a petrifactor is any type of cryptid that can turn flesh to stone. You might have heard of one of them, Medusa, a greater gorgon. We're studying two of the non-sapient petrifactors, basilisks and cockatrices. There are also stone spiders, but I don't even want to program those. Now everyone put on your goggles because turning to stone isn't fun. It won't be fatal here in the Danger Shop, but it won't be fun, either."

( Anyone screwing around and catching the gaze of a petrifactor here in the Danger Shop would find themselves frozen solid for the remainder of the class period and given detention when the class was over. )

That disturbing bit of trivia shared, Liam leaned down to pick the mole rat up, too. "So, if you find something turned to stone and they're too late to help, the best thing to do is check the eyes. If they are more transformed than most of the rest of the body, you've probably got yourself a gaze-petrifier. If not, or there's too much petrification to tell, examine what you can of the body. Unlike the movies, clothing and accessories don't turn to stone, so you should be able to get a full view. Puncture wounds suggest that the venom has been injected and the size of the wounds can give you a general idea of the size of the predator. A lack of puncture wounds suggests gaze-based, but with cryptozoology, nothing is a guarantee. Fortunately, if caught soon enough - by which we mean before death and usually just a few minutes after initial contact - the effects can be halted or even reversed. If you know the recipe for the antidote."

And suddenly there was a miniature chemistry table behind them, causing several of the cryptids to squawk and poke at the dirt elsewhere. "Guess what you're learning today."

"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."

Welcome once more into the swamp simulation in the Danger Shop, kids! Verity was getting a lot of mileage out of that particular sim--probably because many cryptids flourished in places where humans didn't like to go. Verity was standing on a small patch of dry land, one of the very few that could be found and next to her was an image of a winged, humanoid figure, roughly Verity's own height.

( Which wasn't that tall to begin with, but details. )

"Today, we're playing a game. Red versus blue. You all have butterfly nets, your own weapons, and whatever you can find or build out here. Your job is to be the team with the most swamp fairies at the end of the class, without killing any. You have an hour to round up fairies, sabotage the other team, and figure out the best strategy to deal with capture." Verity wasn't going to point out that the fairies had weapons that could easily cut their way free from a net--or that she hadn't provided them with any way to store the caught fairies until the end of the class when it was time to tote them up. She trusted the students to find a way. "Ready...set..." The lights in the air all vanished. "Go!!

Which was when the swamp fairies divebombed the class. Good luck fighting something that small and quick--and then trying to capture it as well.

Class was back in the Danger Shop today, so everyone was probably safe from another trip to see the miracle of birth. Either that, or she was going to do it again, only with everyone helping. Honestly, with Verity, it was an even split on the odds. Though the large field of plants that the class walked into today probably tipped the scales closer to 'no' on the cryptid midwifery class period.

"Not all cryptids are animals," Verity said, crossing over to the class. "There are, in fact, cryptid plants, and at least one weird plant that blurs the line between both. Probably more. Please know that whenever I'm talking about numbers of species that do something weird, there's always, always an implied 'that we know of' at the end of it. Science is still discovering new species in the world, and those animals often aren't even trying to hide." A lot of non-sapient cryptids aren't, either, but they have the benefit of people not wanting to believe in them when they're discovered."

( It was a thin bit of camouflage but a useful one and beggars really couldn't be choosers. )

"They're edible, though it has the general taste and consistency of tofu. The wool is perfectly good for sheering and weaving and, if the lamb survives the winter, will grow back the following year. The biggest issue with the lamb's survival is feeding. Once a lamb eats all of the plant matter within reach of its stalk, it withers away and dies. To protect them, farmers will dig up vegetable lambs that have eaten most of the food around it, wrap and protect the roots, and then move it to another section of the field. Which is what you're all going to do today." And suddenly there was a box of gardening gloves, trowels, and other gardening equipment. And about twelve or so vegetable lambs growing up around the first. "Time to move these little guys from over here to other sections of the field. Happy digging!"

Class was back in the normal classroom today, not the Danger Shop. And if that didn't clue everyone into what the day was going to be, the TV at the front of the room probably did. There was a note attached to the TV screen:

I'm sick and rather than risk spreading the germs, I'm going to set this video up and trust you all can handle it from there. The Mongolian deathworm is a poisonous cousin to the bloodworms we discussed last week, but, shh, nobody tell him.

Monday's battle with the lindworm was still on Verity's brain, which was why she'd chosen today's lesson.

"A great deal of cryptozoology is about conservatism," Verity explained once the class had all arrived. "This, unfortunately means trying to preserve the lives of a lot of cryptids that don't have the same reservations about you. For example, we have the lindworm, which we're pretty sure Mother Nature invented while hung over, projecting all of her hatred and aggression at the world into one eighteen-foot-long, armor-plated, cold-blooded, reptilian, obligate carnivore."

With a wave of her hand, a lindworm appeared, frozen in place. It looked like a skink, only its length was measured in yards instead of inches and a series of sharp spines that started right between the eyes and followed the spine all the way down to the tip of its tail. Its belly and tail were bright, electric blue because lindworm were the apex predator in their habitats.

"This is a male lindworm. Females are usually a few feet bigger and their hind legs are a little more formed, because they use them to dig out a den that the mated pair will hibernate in during the winter. That means that female lindworm may also use their hind legs to kick, which is one more thing to worry about, in case the claws, teeth, and size. Lindworm eat their prey whole, including bones, hide, offal, and hair, as well as clothing, camping gear, firearms, and mining equipment. They also have exceptionally good eyesight, an excellent sense of smell, and a nasty disposition: they're aggressive, territorial, and mean.. And, just because no suck-sundae is ever complete without the cherry, lindworm hunt very close to their pair-bonded mate. You may only see one lindworm, but if it starts to make noises of pain or distress, its mate will come quickly to investigate, giving you not one but two lindworm to fight."

Which very rarely turned out well for the person fighting the lindworm.

"Their habitats range all over the world, from the desert to the sub-arctic, though many regions haven't had a lindworm sighting in centuries. Any time a lindworm comes in contact with sapient species, there is almost immediately some kind of conflict, because more sapients take it poorly when their dogs, livestock, and small children start to go missing. This becomes more difficult when taking the lindworm's natural defenses and hardiness into account. Their armor is highly resistant to bullets and bladed weapons. Even prying some of the armor off, the lindworm's muscles and tissue are dense, requiring several bullet into vital points to take effect. The only guaranteed methods of death are decapitation or total destruction of the body, and there are reports of some lindworm surviving several days without a head, which is comforting to no one at all."

Class met in the Danger Shop today, now that she'd gotten a brief rundown about how it worked. The students stepped into a room made of two distinct biospheres; to one side was a desert not unlike something found in Arizona or Nevada and to the other side lay a verdant jungle, though one with significantly less overgrowth than one might find in a real jungle. On the desert side, no animals were easily visible, just an assortment of cacti growing in sporadic patches. On the jungle side, flashes of brightly colored feathers could sometimes be seen, and loud yowls and strange bird calls could be heard. In Verity's arms was a large creature with black wings and by her feet was another bit of cactus.

( ;Cataceae veprecula' is a pun )

From her bag, Verity pulled out notebooks and pencils to hand out. "Today, your job is to hang out with these different cryptids and take notes on their behavior. What can you discover about them? What do they eat? How do they interact? Take as many notes as you can, either by observation or direct interaction."