[ 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

[postictal]

[Tim is unfortunately of the firm mind that he's nothing short of a complete coward. Except, it seems, when it comes to deciding on the color palette of a prospective restaurant and bar.]

Eye-searing pink, maybe. That'll really make it pop. Like a beacon, if people're lost or something.

[souldeterminant]

[Like anything else in life matters?]

We could always ask for neon paint. Or glow-in-the-dark.

[postictal]

Glow-in-the-dark. [He says it with an almost wistful contemplation. Damn, he wishes he'd thought of that sooner. That's kind of genius.]

You ever think of going into interior design? You've got an eye for it.

[souldeterminant]

[At this prompting, Frisk opens their eyes in a way that's maybe meant to be comically large, revealing the full discs of their reddish-rust irises. Deciding that this isn't enough, They place their indexes at the corners of their eyes and tug down.]

[Now they're just making faces at him.]

Nobody can afford my prices.

[postictal]

[One corner of his mouth crinkles up, pinching like he's about to smile, or maybe like he's forcing back a laugh.]

You're just gonna set up a kissing booth and use that to charge people, aren't you?

[souldeterminant]

What kind of business do you think I run? Kisses are for VIP customers only.

[Haughtily and a bit affronted, Frisk uses the paintbrush to dust a bit of imaginary sand off of their shoulders. Absolutely its intended purpose.]

Chara is my agent. And bouncer.

[you can be a bouncer too.]

[postictal]

[They...really aren't very good at their cover names, are they? No one else is around, so Tim's hardly going to correct them, but the weight of a freshly-told lie is a familiar shroud he's donned time and time again; it's not as easy for other people as it is for him.]

[Maybe it shouldn't be.]

Oh yeah? What's the VIP list look like?

[souldeterminant]

[If Frisk has any similar concerns about blowing their cover, they don't seem to show it. Or more likely, simply didn't notice their mistake. Instead, they hold their other hand out expectantly for the can of sealer.]

It looks like lime green and neon pink polka-dots.

[let's get this show on the road!!]

[postictal]

[Should've seen that coming.]

[He hands the can over without any complaint whatsoever. Sealant first, and then - the world. More to the point, then an absurdly garish and over the top mural that will incorporate a fair amount of lime-ish green, if nothing else.]

Fair enough, I guess. I'll see what I can do about the paint once we're done here.

[Oh, yes. He's serious.]