Zone DACTYLON
Zone DACTYLON
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Current best guess of the DACTYLON metaph. There's nothing else to see here.
Type Threat Level
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Active Status Other Names
blank.png Dresden Black Sun Zone, Wilson Park

Description: We think the entity is the sun.

Sorry, this is Tom1 from Skyhawk Battalion2 here. Whatever's in the sky above the Zone. We're not sure. We're taking Dave's word for it. Oh, that's key: if you get into DACTYLON, just find Dave and check on him. Listen for the sound of an engine, or a hissing sound. Make sure he's doing okay.

Nobody from the Skyhawk has been able to make contact with the Metaph here. We've tried. It doesn't seem to mind or care that we're there. Sorry if this isn't as exciting as hunting chupacabrae, guys. But I think the implications of DACTYLON let you know that this place needs to at least be visited from time to time, if only to make sure Dave hasn't left. Don't worry, he loves it there.

For that reason, we're not going to talk too much about the Metaph here. I know it's against protocol, but we can't touch it, we might not be able to see it, and there's nothing we can do about it. All we have to suggest its existence is the Zone itself, and there's definitely something happening here.

Shelby3 here. One thing. DON'T LET DAVE LEAVE.


Background: Zone DACTYLON is centered on what used to be Wilson Park in Dresden, Tennessee, United States. Area's now a little under a quarter mile in diameter, little over 30 acres. It was half that before we got there. That's a story.

From the outside, the area looks… fuzzy? You gotta be there to really understand. Locals say it basically just looks like it used to look. You know, before. Before it was different.

One local told a story that made it make a little more sense. She said that when you live somewhere and you look out the window at something, there's a whole background that your brain just fills in. You look at your dog in your yard, and behind him, there's a field. You know what it looks like in that field, so you don't have to stare at the details, the old farm equipment out there, the big glyphosate tank, the old barn, the park beyond it. But now it's like you can't stare at it. The whole thing's just… out of focus. You try to make out that old disc harrow, and you can see a smudge of red, but that's it. Stare any longer and you get a migraine.

Cross into the Area and all bets are off. Everything goes dark. There's a Sun above you, and it looks bright in a pitch-black sky, but none of the light is really going anywhere. Except for the sun itself, everything there is black. You can feel ground beneath you, but you can't see anything in front of you.

It's safe to walk around, though. It's extremely flat and completely devoid of any obstacles. Actually, our survey team says it's considerably more level than the area around it. After talking to Dave, we rechecked it, and it's graded such that the center is the highest point by a very slight margin and all the ground slopes gently down away from that. "For drainage," he said. "Everything's for the grass."


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Zack is such a baby about the map stuff. Click to open in a new window.

Location and Population: We've put up bogus fencing around the area to suggest a construction site, with enthusiastic support from the City of Dresden. We convinced them we knew what we were doing, that the University wanted to conduct some experiments there. They didn't question it. Didn't make a call. They know Skyhawk Battalion's not officially affiliated with the University, I think. I mean, what would you do in their position?

Evergreen and Parkway Streets have been diverted to avoid the Zone. At the end of Evergreen where it runs into Highway 22, we encouraged some "natural" damage to the asphalt that keeps the good ol' country boys from coming down the backroads. No harm, no foul. Thank God for low population density. We helped the last ten or fifteen families to relocate with the assistance of GoFundMe and light bank fraud.

There is no population in the Zone anymore. Not except Dave, and he's not leaving.

Ever.


Hunting or Procurement Methods: I mean, some purists are going to say that what we did here isn't "hunting". That's limited thinking, I think. We took soil and plant samples. Analyzed the microbes. Looked for nematodes. If you're ever in the area, you can go in and do that too. Duplicate our work. You won't hurt our feelings. But you're right if you think what we have here is something… different.

Let me tell you what we found: the entire biomass inside the Zone is Cynodon dactylon, common bermudagrass. The soil below the grass is perfect for grass. Nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, micronutrients. The bermudagrass grows thick and chokes out the weeds. There are no bugs, no birds, no mammals, no lizards, no frogs, no microorganisms. Just grass. And Dave.


Encounter Records:


Additional Notes: Shelby here. I can vouch for Tom's full account here above, particularly the parts where he's awkward and weird as hell around the phantom landscaper.

We used our usual methods to help the owners or occupants of thirteen small lots of land, basically all of Evergreen Street south of Parkway to relocate, since the whole road was going to be impassable. The senior citizen's center across the street had to be relocated; we got the building condemned. Tom took care of that. We never asks where he gets the termites from.

We've got what you might call "policy" in place that Dave isn't allowed to leave the Zone. It's obvious that the Zone grows without him there, and that all land that the Zone expands into becomes unusable. It's irrelevant; he's never shown any interest in leaving. I think the saddest I've ever heard him talk is when he was outside. Every time we've talked to him while he's working, he seems relaxed, content. Something about having work to do keeps his mind off things, I guess.

For however long that keeps up.

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