October Intro: Aftermath Mingle

[lifeaftr_mods]

Who: All!
What: Now that you've all committed monkey genocide, it's time to clean up and go home.
When: Evening of the intro log- and onwards!
Where: The Monkey Compound, Islets, etc.
Warnings: Mark as you go!


Congratulations on effectively reversing the tables, adventurers. As the hunted become the hunters, the remaining simians begin to retreat into the jungle, disappearing from sight as the drumming dies down, before extinguishing entirely.

It appears that you have won.

Now it's time to clean up.

Those still in the Monkey Compound may wish to begin scavenging what they can, from multiple coconut guns to rudimentary spears. There's a flock of Bludroc happy to be herded to a new home, several stashes of fresh fruit to be found... and a rather large iron pot, for the particularly bold.

Others may be more concerned with returning to the islets and securing the personal belongings that were left behind. There are new people to settle in, as well; and undoubtedly, a few injuries yet to be healed.

Reunite, rejoice, recover. And perhaps, should you see the Storyteller about- ask a few questions.

Comments

[stoleyoursweetroll]

[She answers his hand with a clawed purple one of her own. It's just the polite thing to do, right?]

Likewise, friend, likewise! Always happy to find an ally in unfamiliar turf.

Speaking of... what can you tell me about this place? Have us, uh, imports got a proper settlement put together, or are we on par with the apes we escaped?

[souris_keteer]

[Have a big, warm, enthusiastic shake!]

Well, there are empty cabins and shacks along the islands. We can try to find you one!

[stoleyoursweetroll]

Hm. S'pose I could squat in one of those for a bit. I know a few things about Nord construction, though, and it tends to involve an awful lot of mining and smithing and sawing.

[All things that strike her as ten times more difficult in a place like this, with no pickaxes or forges or sawmills in sight. She scratches her plumage thoughtfully.]

In Black Marsh, we saxhleel build with mud and sticks. Been thinking about doing that, instead. Might try and make a place all my own from the ground up, you know?

[souris_keteer]

[Mickey's eyes widen a bit in surprise.]

No one would stop you! And someone with your skills would be pretty handy to have around here!

[stoleyoursweetroll]

That so? I'd be mighty pleased to be of use to you lot.

[She laughs.]

...But mostly, I'd just be mighty pleased to have a proper place to call my own.

[souris_keteer]

I can understand that, I think! Havin' a place to call your own makes you feel better about a lot of things.

[stoleyoursweetroll]

Does, doesn't it? I've spent enough time homeless as it is. I'm through, I think, with squatting in abandoned ruins and decimated campsites.

No offense meant, of course.

[souris_keteer]

None taken!

[seriously, he doesn't mind.]