Cooking with Chaos: Plastic Memories [research plastics]

[Dr. Ultima]

Ultimatum Plastics Abstract: Everything is made of anima. Junk monster parts that in the game were simply trash to sell are currently an underutilized resource. By melting this protein anima down with pure mana crystals through a strong acid, a powerful animatical reaction takes place producing a kind of waxy glue. If the ratio is off, this glue can become overloaded with excess anima becoming extremely unstable which can be signified by a glow. This version can in very small amounts cause very precise, volatile, explosions by adding excess mana to the point that the substance pops very nearly like an anima balloon. This represents Ultimatum in its failed, but still applicable form. Its true form is an, inert, stable compound that may be molded like a self-adhesive putty before solidifying through moisture into Elder Tale's version of plastic. An effective way to force excess anima out of the concoction is to find a way to convert the offending overcharge violently into another element. Sudden conversion is key. Ultimatum Plastic is a versatile material useful for countless crafts. Lighter than Iron, Ultimatum Plastic retains a similar flexibility in forging but cannot rival its more natural cousin in durability.   

Final Recipes:

1) Ultimatum Plastic

2) Ultimatum Plastic Explosive

3) Sunglasses: Aviators

*****

One of the first things Dr. Ultima came to realize in her new vocation as a healer is that she was extremely valuable due to scarcity. One of the second things that Dr. Ultima came to realize is that she was broke which really hurt in the material fees side of things. Not one to lose wind in her sails, Dr. Ultima quickly began searching for alternative methods. Before long, she had found her answer: junk loot. In the days when Elder Tale was simply a game, junk loot served to limit adventurer questing time by tying that profitability into a limited space in character inventory. Certainly, that hadn't changed and junk loot even in the current post apocalyptic environment was considered something of a nuisance and if not thrown away outright, was simply pawned at the earliest convenience for a pittance of gold.

And so our tiny researcher had found her angle. A true alchemist, Dr. Ultima sought to turn something worthless into something worth while and all for her own benefit.

"Every journey and all that, no?"

Dr. Ultima could feel herself getting excited. Putting her well-muscled dwarven legs to use, she sped to Londonium's main square, the most popular place for adventurerers to solicit partners. Her terms were ultra simple: just let me have all the junk. Who wouldn't oblige some apparent dingbat of a much needed healer who wanted to leave all the shinnies to you? Dr. Ultima was quickly becoming popular among the lower leveled adventurer circuits...


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[Dr. Ultima]

Three weeks passed in this fashion: Advertise, get solicited, lazily throw heal over times while everyone did all the work, get soon to be super valuable left overs. If Dr. Ultima was popular for eccentricity among the adventurers, she was certainly less so around the bank. Every evening she arrived with nothing but left over monster part items, cruddy lore trinkets, and baubles like a little crow. The bank almost certainly wanted to but never quite materialized the courage to ask questions. Adventurers will be adventurers...

On the start of the fourth week, our good doctor perused her pile.

"Ohohohohohoho~"

It took another three long nights without sleep but in time, her rented inn room which was actually the carefully negotiated for basement had a number of distinct categorized piles based on make, theme, and material. A serial killer could not have been more tediously specific.

"How often? How often have those blacksmiths had a hold over us Alchemists? Waha~ no mas, that ends today buckos. Time's time that we grow from our roots into our own field. It's la revolution baby~"

Holding up a finger in a good lecturer's fashion she stopped herself for the moment.

"Aha, but ze first thing isz alwayhz first. Ze anima, yez? Ze magic crystal." Adopting a fake accent, she conversed with no one but herself. It was a good thing that she always shut the trap door to the basement. People would wonder. Up to this point, the creation of mana crystals had been a major exercise in practice for our alchemist extrordinare.

"After all, how can we expect to run without first learning to walk, yez? Indeed, indeed. Fledgling birds, yez. Still hungry for the ah... worm, yez, ze worm."

Clapping her hands together in mock imitation of a popular television show, Dr. Ultima sloowwwwllly spread her palms apart as if beginning to play cat's cradle. Her small and percise fingers point at one another making a kind of outline of a prism or as it might appear to an observer, a childish mimicry of an alligator's maw.

"Heh heh.... piece of cake!" That was one down. She shot it like a free throw into a cauldron in the center of the room. Instead of a bed, Dr. Ultima had rented a large cauldron usually used for the mass production of the soup of the day. It would do. The inn would certainly be keeping her deposit.


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[Dr. Ultima]

So of the wingdings, shindigs, wappas, whizzleys, and bungoos each in their respective piles, Dr. Ultima looked solely to the organic parts. 

"Either I'm the first to realize this, or just another lemming in a line of idiots. A smart lemming though. The smartest damn lemming out there."

Doink. Another mana crystal, another swish. The soup urn was nearing halfway.

"Okie dokie, next up is fun part. Hrrruuupp~!"

Lifting the cauldron and being careful not to touch or rattle the mana crystals less they dissapate she carried the entire thing up the basement's stairs, through the front door, and out toward St. Pancras station. She couldn't afford to blow up the inn. It wasn't hers.

"And," Dr. Ultima mused, "Landers are awfully hard to put back together..."

At her new base which was nothing more than an isolated side area which probably would have been a restaurant in the old model of the world she resume operations. Opening her inventory, she dumped the various monsters parts in. This brought the total volume of the cauldron to near full.

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[Dr. Ultima]

It hurt Dr. Ultima's pride just a little bit to have to resort to a lack of self-sufficiency, but the next two items needed for her experiment had to be purchased from the market. She recollected the process:

Overall the market, was a kind of city of its own that never died. Perhaps because the most popular tavern streets bordered this section of Londonium proper, there was always a crowed. Dodging knees for the life of her, Dr. Ultima persisted in pushing through the waves and throngs of other crafters. It was invigorating work, the crowds for sure, but also, in the effort Dr. Ultima put forth to not get distracted.

Just what a level 1 Druid was going to do with a copious amount of high level slime acid, nobody bothered asking. 

"I love this city~" 

Ironically, Dr. Ultima had a harder time procuring an iron rod. The good hearted blacksmith had attempted to correct our tiny alchemist three times. Each time, Dr. Ultima insisted.

"No, no, no, I need a rod, it needs to be durable, no staff needed, thank you! I'm not using this to play wizard. Could you please let me purchase the rod now? Pretty please? With a mana crystal on top?"

Shrugging the blacksmith let her make her purchase. Dr. Ultima's form was small, maybe she had just conjured up paternal feelings. Even so, like a complaining toddler, she eventually got her way. He didn't even charge her.

"I'll probably need to return the favor," the good doctor sighed. But that was not going to be today. Dr. Ultima clicked her tongue bringing her back to the present

Licking her lips, the good doctor reached for the acid...

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[Dr. Ultima]

boom. Dr. Ultima died. She died like The Fourth of July. She died like Bikini Island. She died like an earthquake. Oh how she brilliantly died.

"Whoops..." 

Seeing that it was day, Dr. Ultima sprinted toward St. Pacras station, she was kind of hoping it still existed. "How long was I dead?!"

The little mad scientist and potential accidental terrorist was a blur on the streets as she sprinted as fast as her little legs would carry her. Her golden hair trailed like a flag. Currently St. Pancras station was blocked off by a crowd of early morning gawkers. Overhearing the noise babbling conversation, Dr. Ultima gathered that nobody had been harmed in the explosion. Indeed, many of the crafters were wondering about the point of the attack.

"Who would attack in the city? Why?"

"Right? We'd just respawn a couple blocks over, it's pointless."

"Speaking of that I'm ready to get to work..."

"Wish people would move! Come on people!"

"Was it a terrorist...?"

"If it was, the guardians probably took em out in seconds."

On her stomach, Dr. Ultima crawled about army style and sticking to cover infiltrated the station without setting off an alert phase. She needed the materials she left behind so that she could try again. Procuring a cardboard box, she made her way bit by bit as people began to filter back in, the commotion was slowly beginning to end. If she should just avoid the hired patrol guilds she was golden. It took the better part of an hour but she managed.

Hiding her newly discovered bomb kit, she waited again for the cover of night...

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[Dr. Ultima]

Thanking baby Jesus, infiltrator box girl Dr. Ultima finally noticed a dying of commotion as thing settled into a more regular hum before finally falling quiet late into the night. And so it was back to making mana crystals like tortillas.

"This sucks..."

Endeavoring on, Dr. Ultima tried to recalculate the ratio. Making a mental note of the bomb version for future use, she tried aiming for more animal parts to less excess mana crystal. Adding more acid, our micro alchemist sprinted for cover behind a near pillar and waiting. 1 minute....2 minutes....three.... all the way up 5. Nothing had happened. The dwarf honestly couldn't be sure if that was a good or bad sign....

With a wince she poked the outer cauldron with the iron rod to test the waters... It plinked but otherwise things seemed alright. Inching closer bit by bit, she slooooowly peered over the rim of the large pot. Things seemed to be progressing well enough. A mixture like a goopey glue seemed to have formed. It had a strange glow to it which she figured must have been the still cooking in anima. The substance appeared malleable. Slowly, but surely, she was confident, she would reach her goal. Carefully sliding the rod into the concoction to stir, Dr. Ultima exploded.

The rumble rang through the deserted halls.

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[Dr. Ultima]

Dr. Ultima woke up sprawled out like a ragdoll against the far wall.  Through blurry vision she watched the passive regeneration of her druid class slowly inch her back to something far nearer healthy. Speeding up the process she cast 'heart beat healing' 


"Back to the box..."

Laying low Dr. Ultima waited... nothing. She was safe from everyone except herself. Feeling better, Dr. Ultima wondered just what the golden ratio for the formula should be. She was so close before... and so the thought of the excess anima glow came to mind. It was still over caked, there was too much free potential still struggling to brust forth, and then it did. 

"So I popped the friggen balloon. Ow. Okay then....so how do I fix it?"

Crossing her arms she tilted her head like a child posing in an exaggerated form of thought. Her mind wandered to static electricity and she quickly wondered at the significance of it. Something clicked.

"Hahaha really? I'm going to be mad if something this stupid works..."

But first, of course, were the mana crystals. A tiny but long groan escaped from the soul of one Dr. Ultima.

Thirty minutes later she was ready to try again....


Much the same as last time she proceeded and waiting the five minutes confirmed the faint blue glow. Fainter this time, if only slightly to inch closer to what she was beginning to imagine was the correct ratio. Pulling out her grimoire, Dr. Ultima began casting the spell....


"'C'est la vie!'"

The 'lightning fall' struck the large pot that had already been through way too many durability repairs. Glowing like St. Elmo's fire, the former store was a rave of white light and roaring sound. Dr. Ultima was blind, deaf, and dumb in the awesome force of it.

"..."

When the ringing in her head had died she approached the somehow still standing cauldron. Slowly peering inside she saw the familar substance, without the faint glow. Poking it with her procured stirring rod she flinched but found herself still standing and safe. So it had likely maybe worked. Slowly skooping a bit out with her hand she felt out the strange substance. It was almost like a mix between Elmer's glue and slightly too wet molding clay. Playing with it, she patted it together in a ball and tried rolling it around for a smoother sphere. Pinching the substance she pulled it like a child's cheeks wider and wider. It was starting to look like spaghetti. Re-rolling the stuff into an orb, she gently filled and thinned out the rolls into a semblance of a glasses' frame. With more working, the lens slots grew bigger until she had the general shape down: Aviators. Dr. Ultima did things with style.

Picking up the remainder of the cauldron she added it to her inventory and made her way back to the basement of the inn. For whatever reason, Dr. Ultima had discovered while walking through the mist that moisture served to harden the new element. She had dipped her frames into the river to prove it. That was the final secret to procuring her finished project: Ultimatum Plastics. The plastic bomb formula was just a bonus on the path to success.  

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