[ HELP WANTED ] ; been traveling in packs that i can't carry anymore

[postictal]

[There's a new message written on the Local Rock of Communal Writing, next time people happen along.]

so far east side of the island right next to the lake there's a bunch of old buildings. one of them looks like it might've been a mess hall or something and then there's a bunch of houses and some plots of land that look like they were being used for farming stuff.

i've been working on making them habitable again. figure we could use some kind of communal area like a restaurant or bar or something.

if you're interested in helping there's some stuff that needs doing

- lumber. we got a lot of it already but we'll probably need more.
- stone. the ground is marshy in places so if anyone knows where a quarry is and how to get some rock for laying some kind of foundation that'd help
- labor. goes without saying. i'm just one guy. if you feel like pitching in you could probably set up in the finished place and use it as a base of operations or whatever. we got plenty of buildings for you to use. st probably doesn't like us on their turf constantly anyway

i've got means of waterproofing already but if anyone feels like helping feel free to let me know. write here or call me on your rock or come visit. ask for tim.

-tim

[ooc: also available for action prompts! tim can be found on the H5 square, which is where everything is located.]

Comments

surprise! it's action!

[byhalves]

[Maybe a heads up that someone was actually coming over to help would've been smart - whoever this Tim person is is probably checking the rock and it's probably helpful for planning but...

Well. He's never been known for being a great planner. And if he's going to be heading over anyways, this is just making it faster. Cutting out the middle man of conversation.

Also the weird Rock Of Communal Writing is just. That's a bit too strange for him at this point of his island getaway. And calling someone to just go "yeah hi you don't know me but I'm coming over" is also weird.

So, after some reasonable measure of time, Tim will be approached by...some kid. He's really not that remarkable, asides from the hair and the scar.]

Hey. [A nod in Tim's direction.] You left that message on the rock, right?

c:!!!!!!!

[postictal]

[New people come and go all the time. Some of those people have...bizarrely multicolored hair and scarred faces. It's a thing, and Tim's been friends with weirder, so it registers only briefly as an oddity before he simply shrugs it aside.]

That's me, yeah. [He's the only guy in the vicinity at the moment, so it stands to reason.] Interested?

[byhalves]

[The lack of recognition - and contempt that comes with recognition or bullshit rulebreaking - is a nice change of pace. Not being held to the standard that comes with a legacy is nice.

Kind of sucks it's because he's on some weird abandoned island with some weird god shenanigans happening but. Eh. Win some, lose some.]

It would be a better use of my time than doing nothing every day. [aka being helpful is better than focusing on the day to day of survival.] I don't have much construction experience, though.

[He's here! That counts!]

[postictal]

Can you carry stuff without opening a stab wound?

['Cause that sure is something Tim shouldn't be straining right about now. It might be little more than precaution at this rate, but he knows that reopening an injury like that one will prolong the time it'll take to recover his full faculties.]

[byhalves]

[...Welp, that's concerning.]

I don't have any stab wounds to open, so it should be fine.

[His only open wounds are emotional ones.]

[postictal]

Then you don't need construction experience to be helpful.

[It's not hard to see shades of who he was in that uncertainty, that not knowing what to do with yourself and feeling like you can't offer much to group efforts on the whole. Feeling like you're just a resource drain, directionless, ungrounded.]

[He's learned, since then.]

[Do you have two hands?]

[Then you're qualified.]

[byhalves]

[There's something about that that's...Reassuring. There's still concern, for this strange man who apparently is recovering from being stabbed, but...

If he can point Shouto in a direction, it's good enough for now.]

Right.

[He brushes his hair back from his face.]

Just tell me where you want me to start.

[postictal]

Y'know where the old monkey compound place is, right? There's a mana pool, and people're living up in the trees and stuff?

[It can be kind of a trek, hauling wood that kind of distance, particularly when you're injured, which is why he's been a bit deprived of lumber at the moment.]

At some point I guess I should ask the Storyteller to put a new mana pool here, but I'd rather not waste the offerings unless I know it'd work.

[byhalves]

The...monkey compound. [He thinks he knows what you're talking about, but he also has no idea what "monkey compound" means. What monkeys?] I'm not familiar with a monkey compound, but I've seen the tree houses.

[There's a story here (har har har) but he's not sure what.]

I didn't realize the Storyteller had that much power. [Though that's more of an aside - Shouto honestly doesn't know much about the Storyteller, but they don't really come across as an all-powerful, world-shifting god. Just someone who was here to look out for them, not necessarily change the entire world to help them.]

[postictal]

Monkeys used to live there. Then they captured a bunch of us and tried to cook everyone alive, so they kinda got mass-slaughtered.

[He sounds decidedly blasé about the entire thing, which is maybe not the most reassuring thing in the world.]

They can definitely put mana pools down in places where they aren't usually. Guess it's a perk of being a god.

[byhalves]

[w h a t]

So the destruction after escaping from the water isn't out of the norm.

[Geez. What's up with everyone here? Why hasn't anyone learned conflict resolution skills?]

So asking for one should mean it's worth the effort, then. [He's...trying to understand your logic here, Tim. Surely asking for help transporting everything would be worth whatever favors you have kicking around.]

[postictal]

No. It wasn't.

[He doesn't sound particularly happy about it, but it's more...resignation, than it is anything else. A weary sort of acceptance that this is how things are bound to go. And given how many of their own were taken and threatened with - whatever being trapped in that other world would've entailed, he can't exactly blame people for fighting back.]

[He was among them, after all. Both times.]

You gotta trade stories for stuff like that, with the Storyteller. And I'm not sure if I've got enough, or if it'd be more worthwhile to spend them on, I dunno...a way to a quarry, or something.

[byhalves]

[That's...

Honestly, Shouto's not sure he's in a position to judge. It doesn't sound like there was no reason to fight back - at least as far as the monkeys are concerned - but wiping out a species seems a bit extreme.

But would he have done the same? He wouldn't think so, but...Who's to say fighting for survival doesn't make it okay?]

Asking for a spot to a quarry would just extend the problem, wouldn't it? [Is it really his space to question?] Then you'd just need to find a way to haul that stone here from the nearest pool.

[A beat.] I don't think I have enough to make a difference, but I could help.

[postictal]

[He's not Rin. He's not got that businesslike, direct, reassuring presence that she could radiate by default, even in a crisis. He's just some guy, and not even an ideal bastion of support, at that.]

[He's...not ideal.]

Hey, you got two hands and you weren't stupid enough to get stabbed. [One hand falls across his middle to indicate where the blade went in.]

I think that makes you more useful than you're giving yourself credit for.

[byhalves]

[Sometimes, awkward bumbling is reassuring enough on its own. Even if you don't know what you're doing, you're...trying.]

Mm. I suppose you have a point. [He'll just...not bring up that he's been stabbed before, too. This isn't a contest for who's fucked up the most.]

But I think it's too early to decide how much credit I need. We haven't even started, yet.

[postictal]

[He needs a second to extricate something from the loops on his knapsack, but he holds it up after a brief moment of rummaging. It's a hatchet - slightly worn and undeniably having seen some wear and tear and frequent use, but nonetheless functional.]

[It's also been used to kill monkeys. Fun fact.]

You know how to split logs?

[byhalves]

[That's a fact he'll be glad to not know, thanks.]

No. [But how hard could it be?] But I take it you know how to teach me.

[postictal]

Sure. [He offers it out, handle-first.]

Basically, we've got no shortage of logs. Even if we wanted to make literal log cabins, we can't just pile them on top of each other the way they are, y'know? We're gonna have to trim the bark and twigs and stuff, and then cut them down to a size we can use.