[ MINGLE ] MINING EXPEDITION

[nonstopnarcissist]

WHO: Tony Stark & Co.
WHERE: North West Mountain Range
WHEN: November 5th - 8th
OPEN TO: Open to all
WARNINGS: Language, canon typical violence

---

The Hike Up/Down

After sending a message out the day before to meet him in the fountain park at dawn (daylight is important) Tony packs up. Supplies secured and a path found mostly by working himself up (not that difficult) and following the blue path only he can see (still weird) Tony guides his modest expedition up a winding way over rivers and to a promising stony outcropping at the base of the mountains before needing a moment to 're-calibrate'. AkA get stressed out as to where to head next for optimal ore extraction. It takes a minute but- again, he's got a lot of anxieties to kick into gear and it should be easy enough to nudge their rag tag little group further up until they find the right spot. Making an easy walk down- well. That's also a trick. Finding a quick path back to the village before they lose the light- marking the way they've come so they can find it the next day? Kind of important.


Digging a Hole

Breaking ground is a matter of staring, trying to think back to what little he knows of geology (not fucking much), and waiting for the anxiety to get to the point where it'll hand him something specific. They need ore, they need a good starting location, and once they manage to pinpoint it? Pickaxes are handed out, a nearby cave explored, and Tony strips down to get to work. Crack stone, haul it out, rinse, repeat. Anything usable gets put in sacks made from stolen sheets to be hauled down- not the best system he's got but they're just getting started. Regular breaks are A thing, canteens of water passed around- he's pretty sure there's a stream somewhere that should help with the 'not dying of thirst' issue in the future.


Encounters With Natives

Somewhere on the hike up, during the dig, or taking a rest on one of the craggy boulders surrounding the cave where they're chipping away at stone, signs of native fauna linger. There's a patchy nest looking thing where one can hear the mewling of peakittens, blue eyed, tiny, and abandoned by the looks of it. Loping about the slopes a few curious mountain elk that bound in at the sign of food, keeping a cautious distance but wandering close should anyone appear friendly. Near the woods, though, just as they wind their way up- or make their way back down at the end of the day? Dust Moths have taken to the air, shimmering wings leaving powder in the air.


Environmental Effects

During the hike up in the predawn there's lying mist clinging to the sides of the mountain in thin curls, swirling in the air as they hike through it. Careful not to inhale too deeply, otherwise you might find yourself a little more honest than you'd like for most of the morning, and that could make the rest of the hike pretty damn awkward. In the caves proper there's stone and ore enough- and a dark, black powder that tastes of licorice and ash. Shadow dust. Maybe the next few swings don't do as much damage- or do any at all. Maybe they picking up stone becomes impossible till you're in the light.


In Too Deep

On the second, maybe the third day all their activity and digging catches some aggressive attention. A pickaxe sunk too deep, cracking through a cave wall and finding a den of snarling, hungry cave wolves that spill through the hole all snapping teeth and snarling claws, bursting out of the tunnels to scatter whoever's dared to come close to their home. A tree felled to mark their path startles a giant boar into charging, bellowing in the night, turning tusk and muscle to clear it's own way through their weary line.

Comments

[nonstopnarcissist]

"They are tiny and fragile and what happened to their mother that they're just alone out here?" There are predators, he knows there are predators, but damn if this isn't some kind of heartbreaking. If he had a heart to break. Tony Stark is not the kind of man that spends time worrying about or for animals. He donates money to people that worry about animals, he smiles and holds a kitten now and then for a photo op if one happens along but he doesn't have the time or patience-

And he's trying to keep one from rolling off his shoulder. This is ridiculous. They're chirping like his bots and that- that's some kind of endearing. But it's not-

It's fucking ridiculous that he's afraid to move lest the one curled up on his head topples off, or the one tucked up under his neck slides down his chest. "I don't think anyone in the village has litter, how are we going to house train you?"

[cryptoherpetology]

"We have a massive amount of corn, which is going to lead to a massive amount of corn husk and cob waste. Dry it, grind it. Organic litter that won't cause bowel obstructions if they eat it."

There is a little dilute-tortoiseshell-haired and grey feathered kitten in Alex's hand, hind legs tucked up against his wrist, and alternating between trying to chew and nurse on his fingers, and there's something of an echo of a New Dad glow to him that is almost bordering on New Mom.

"I wonder if they abandon their young and count on this chemically-induced bond as a benign form of brood parasitism. That would be amazing." Proof that the trait can manifest in a benign fashion would mean so much to his cousin and maternal grandmother. Not the time-travelling grandma, the grandma who's a member of a species of human-appearing telepathic wasp. And that's not in the sense of the acronym.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"I'll make a note on the network, put out a bin." It won't last forever but it will sure as hell get them through the winter. How often did litter need to get changed- no, he's not thinking of keeping on. Even if the quiet anxiety he'd been using to direct people for digging is fucking gone, replaced with a low level buzz that only gets better and better the longer he sits and soaks in the kittens quiet contentment.

Positive effects of feline snuggling or chemically induced bliss? Only science could tell.

No real control group to work off of and he's covered with the things- he'll worry about it later. "Could be. Feral cats do the colony thing for the most part, I'm surprised we didn't find more. Stress induced labor, Mother making due?"

[cryptoherpetology]

"Both peacocks and cats are effective at pest control. They'd be worth trying to domesticate and breed, if there are others closer to the village, when they're old enough. We have a lot of grain to store over the winter, and mice are probably going to be an issue. It might even be worth trying to attract a feral colony just for that purpose. The croc-dogs are great alarm systems, but they get dependent on humans for food too easy to be good mousers- ratters, maybe, if they're trained for it- admittedly this is entirely speculation and for all I know these adorable little guys are going to eat my brains tonight. But I'm willing to take that risk for scientific curiosity. And I really miss my pet church griffin."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Pet...griffin." He's going to need a moment to unpack, or he would but one of the kittens starts nibbling on his fingertips and that- that is so damn cute he needs a moment just to beam down at the pale blue creature batting at his hand, all but attached. "People are crazy about cats, or cat adjacent things. Shouldn't be hard to find homes for these guys. Not sure how to go about inviting a colony into the village animals haven't ever really been a thing for me? So you're on your own there."

[cryptoherpetology]

"The rodent population boom alone should attract them. But we could try catnip," he considers, now holding his hand perfectly still as the little ball of feathers and fluff he's holding falls asleep, making chirruping purring sounds.

"Yeah, I don't think I can give this one away. I think I'm going to have to name her."

Speaking of people crazy for cat-adjacent things...

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Do we have catnip? We should ask Mark. He'll know." He's the plant guy that isn't THE plant guy and- they'll figure it out later. Right now there are...kittens. Sleeping, snoring kittens. The one tucked up under his chin lets out a melodic little prrt and Tony is-

He's a little enamored, no lie.

"Elton." He murmurs, reaching up to stroke one kitten's ears.