Beatrix's Guide to Life on the Range - Slime Rancher - Beatrix LeBeau

[aroberuka]

Title: Beatrix's Guide to Life on the Range
Fandom: Slime Rancher
Challenge/Prompt: hc bingo - minor illness or injury
AO3 Link: here

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Things they don't tell you when you sign up for A Bold New Venture on the Far, Far Range:

1. the hours are murder;
2. you have to build your own help;
3. boom slimes go boom;
4. rad slimes were not named for their 90s-inspired lifestyle;
5. sooner or later, you will sell your soul to Mochi Miles for that sweet sweet intel on market fluctuations;
6. but only after you've risked life and limb for Ogden's spicy spicy tofu;
7. if you build the incinerator too close to the coop, you will sometimes step into the still burning ash trail of a fire slime first thing in the morning, when all you wanted really was to pick a couple of eggs for breakfast because everything is running smoothly and you have a few minutes to spare for once, is that so much to ask, god damn;
8. dunking your feet in the puddle pond with its puddle slimes will provide instant, slightly tickly relief, but it’s also a great way to catch a cold;
9. because, oh yeah, the common cold is still a thing that exists, why wouldn’t it be, you’re only a thousand light-years away from Earth (Viktor has an explanation for this one: it involves microscopic slimeforms and a whole lot of technical terms that you mostly tune out, blame it on the fever);
10. Far, Far Range colds, it turns out, are very much like Earth colds and just as miserable, except that’s a lie, they’re so much worse, you don’t get sick leave and the closest human being could be on the other side of the planet for all you know;
11. cold, lonely nights become colder and lonelier when you can’t sleep because you can’t breathe because your nose is stuffed and your throat hurts and you can’t get comfortable no matter how much you toss and turn (you miss Casey, violently, more than ever before);
12. drones can’t really multitask, nor can they water themselves no matter how much you mess around with their programming; you’ll have to drag yourself to the lab, drag yourself to the grotto, drag yourself to the overgrowth, drag yourself to the docks and drag yourself back home, multiple times a day, just to make sure the gardens are harvested, the slimes fed, the plorts sold, the chicken uprising delayed;
13. the range exchange is a great help when you’re short on sugar, or beets, or when you desperately need one more piece of indigonium so you can finally plonk down an extra teleporter deep inside the ruins; not so much when what you desperately need is a break;
14. if you try anyway Hobson will call you back within the hour to tell you about that time he tried to stubborn his way past a cold of his own, only to end up so congested he failed to smell the honey hunter that was sneaking up on him, an ordeal that cost him his favourite hat and half a day’s work so learn from his mistakes, Beatrix, don’t work yourself to the ground; later that day you can expect one of Thora’s care packages for the overwhelmed rancher: thick socks, pepper jam, a handful of decals for your vacpack and a box of those little cuberry thumbprint cookies you love so much;
15. Ogden has an encyclopedic knowledge of home remedies and he’s not afraid to use it: he’ll even threaten you with a pot of his own special blend of kookadoba tea, so pungent you’ll feel better in no time just to avoid drinking more, no need to thank him;
16. Viktor’s music collection is huge and it doesn’t take much prodding for him to share: your music boxes will never be the same, but the slimes don't seem to mind, and the drones are working a little bit faster now (turns out they can, in fact, multitask, better not ask, you're pretty sure this is not 7Zee-approved);
17. eventually Mochi Miles herself will give you a call, voice full of only slightly cocky concern; “What’s the deal, banana peel,” she’ll say, as if she didn’t know, as if you didn’t look like death warmed over, “I hand you the keys to the only ranch expansion worth your time and you’re letting the place fall apart! … Guess I’ll have to come over and pick up your slack for a while.";
18. you won’t hear from BOb (you don’t ever hear from BOb) (what’s up with that guy, anyway, no-one seems to know where he ranches), but you might wake up from a feverish nap or two to the busy buzz of drones frantically vacpacking heaps of pogofruits, picked fresh from the reef and dropped in your front yard (who does that?);
19. you’ll miss home, always, in sickness and in health and in the dead of the night, sitting on your bed, trying to figure out if you really did hear the laugh-like grunt of a Tarr right outside your window, if today’s the day you fail to keep the largos contained, if tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow is the day you have to start all over again;
20. but it’s easier to miss home when you know people are there to catch you, that there are better days to find, that tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow you’ll get a chance to catch your breath, sit on your porch, enjoy the quiet beauty of a slow day, here on your little home a thousand light-years from home.

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