[ 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

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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

Tony Stark | OTA

[nonstopnarcissist]

The Hike up & Digging A Hole, W/ A Touch of Environmental Effects

This should be easy. Get up at the crack of dawn, meet everyone in the fountain park, shake himself awake and hike. He hasn't had to hike in fucking forever, but daily treks too and from the fountain while carrying shit keeps his mind far, far away from wandering in the desert. For one? It's cold. For two? He's very much not alone. Being productive and proactive has him in a good mood- enough to be cheerful, happily elbowing his fellows to check in with them, how they're settling into the village, what they need, what they miss, becoming more and more honest about what he misses from home the longer they linger in the mist. He doesn't think anything of it until someone asks how he's doing and he answers, bluntly- "Panicking but trying to hide it."

Well shit.

He bites his tongue till he finds somewhere to start, a good sight, and figures if he spends all his time digging into the ore? He won't say anything ridiculous if prompted.


Encounters With Natives

"...I am not an animal person." He's a robot person. This is pretty well established but- it's a nest. Of kitten bird things. All big eyes and ruffled feathers, mewling because the're hungry and- "Cats are obligate carnivores, right?"

It's not like he carries milk with him. The canteen of tea is decidedly not kitten friendly, a few scraps of meat softened in water to be chewable? Seems to do the trick. "Right. Okay. No promises. I'll just- bring you down to the village, someone will be willing to take care of you."

Like they can understand him. It works- up until he's sitting stock still, afraid to move, kittens nestled all over him as the figure his shirt is prime climbing material. "...a little help?"


In Too Deep

Honestly? He should've expected something like this. Working away with a lantern keeping his area bright, things have been going smoothish? Bout of truth seruming earlier aside. They're getting plenty of stone and viable, rich ore for him to melt down and use, a couple of minerals that could be ground for dye. All in all? He's been happy with their results. Swinging with the pick and finding it sinking deeper than it should, seeing the wall in front of him crack? has him giddy for a half second before it crumbles away enough for him to see red glowing eyes on the other side. "Oh fuck-"

He scrambles backward, grabbing the lantern on his way out. "CLEAR THE MINE!"

Sprinting for the exit he can hear the scrabble of claws, the snarling growls nipping at his heels. Of all the times to not have the fucking suit-

7 || OTA

[to_defend]

Hiking

Sleep is still something she's not crazy about, and she's still fighting the urge. She hasn't gotten more than a couple hours a night since she arrived, preferring to be up and aware of what's going on. So it is she's at the fountain park before dawn has even broken. It's a sight to see - there'd been days and nights in her world, muted behind the heavy, oppressive cloud cover, and getting a chance to see the brilliance of a healthy sunrise was enough to make her forget the pull of sleep deprivation.

It'd get better as she went on, right?

She's got her spear now, the tip provided by Tony, the rest from found items, and has a bola secured to her belt. She walks with a little more purpose with these two additions.

Digging A Hole

7's not just here for a walk and a fight; she's determined to pull her weight in this community, now that she's settling in to some of the weirdness.

She sets aside her spear, takes up a pickaxe, and wails away at the rocks. Brute strength had been more 8's thing, but she's up to the task and each swing is calculated to use her agility to its benefit, using the axe's weight to follow through with each strike.

Sweat, she finds, is a really weird thing, and she doesn't like the way her hair is getting in her face and sticking to her forehead. After a while, she takes a break to rip off a strip from an errant sheet and use it to tie her hair back and out of her face. Still sweaty and sticky, but at least now she could see.

Environmental Effects

What does one do when they're doing serious hiking for the first time in their human body? They breathe - deeply - to continue. The cool, brisk air is refreshing, and 7 hasn't been too worried about any possible consequences. The Machines aren't here, the war isn't here, the gas isn't here ...

What she isn't aware of is the amount of lying mist she's been inadvertently ingesting. If you're curious about her, now is the time to get your questions in.

In Too Deep

It doesn't happen in her vicinity, but she hears the sounds further down and acts immediately; dropping her pickaxe, grabbing her spear, she's vaulting over people in order to get right in the middle of the action. The space may be a little tight for her liking, but she's pulling out her bola, swinging it around with a whine, and launching it at the nearest cave wolf.

Are you there to help her? Scrambling out of her way? Or somehow inadvertently caught int he middle?

[eaglesonofnone]

The Hike:

In preparation, Altaïr had gone to the inn, to the place where spare materials were stored. Some of what he found, he used there at the inn rather than take it back to the house he'd claimed. He'd taken care pulling some of the sewing out of his dishdasha and had then sewn it back in a way that would permit him to move using thread pulled from one of the extraneous sheets in an oddly spare bedroom.

Part of that sheet was now also functioning as a sash around his waist, giving him a place to hold fast what else he was borrowing: blades. None were as convenient as the one he'd used for so long, and the more he got used to having youth and health, the more he found himself missing his sword belt, his harness and his short blade, and the many throwing knives he had always kept at hand.

But when the time came to go, as soon as they'd entered the forest, he had found a likely tree and had lifted himself into the branches like it was nothing. He kept up as the party traveled, only coming down when passage at that height was impossible, leaping from branch to branch with occasional wavers that he corrected soon enough. In time, it even became hard to hear him as he learned how to walk quietly and not rustle the leaves.

It's the rivers that trouble him most.

The Dig/Native Fauna/Environmental Effects:

When they arrive at the site, Altaïr shows that he's thought ahead, at least in part. He's worn layers. Though he removes his dishdasha, he shows he's kept his scrub shirt on beneath and winds his sash around his waist once more. It seems his arms are the most he's willing to bare in mixed company.

Still, he doesn't hesitate to work, especially once he sees just what the ore looks like contrasted with the surrounding stone. It's during one of his breaks that he climbs a nearby tree to get the lay of the land once more as well as let the breeze at the heights of the tree cool him that he catches sight of the herbivores nearby. He doesn't call down, but he does give a little whistle once he's lowered down a few branches and points in that direction, just to notify those nearby.

It's on one hazy morning, having grown accustomed to the trek, that Altaïr slips down from the trees and to a misty patch of ground, thinking nothing of the fog except that it's cool when he breathes in, and that these mountains, even the caves, keep reminding him of home.

In Too Deep:

The thing is too big. Too big for him to fend off alone, too big for the small blades he'd found. Yet, he couldn't allow the beast to harm any that he now considered to be under his care.

When the boar charged, he noted its path and shouted below, "BUSHES TO THE WEST!" before flinging himself from the branch he'd held to, blades in his hands, teeth grit as he aimed his descent for the boar's back. If the thing was built as a normal beast, he should at least get it bleeding enough to slow it down. And anger it. He didn't doubt he would come out of this injured, but better him, with his numerous scars, than some of the others.

[killorder]

Hiking Up w/Mist

Sure all of this is with a lot less gear and without the team he's used to, but working like this is familiar enough that it is actually helping to ease the ache in his chest about this place and all he's learned since coming here. This is familiar, and it's easy to fall into the means and methods that he's used in the past even without the technology.

Watching the trails, letting himself drop back to take the rear and watching from there with a careful eye. Jake is a huge dork, but he's a professional one when on the job, and he does his best to not only watch their backs, but to try and mentally route their trip as well as keep an eye out for alternative routes should they need them.

Watching the ground carefully as they move through the mist, thinking of a few times in foreign countries with the Losers and hikes so much like this. Except the Losers are down by one and Max isn't fucking dead and what had been his family is kind of fucked up now since Roque turned on them and...

And he isn't quite watching in that moment, nearly running into someone.

"Shit! Sorry. Just trying not to just curl up in a ball and cry. Nothing to see here. Carry on."

Wincing as he says it though. He can be open but damn, not like that.

Digging a Hole, with Scrub powers?

It's going pretty well for a group that likely have never mined before. Jake's working as well as he can, taking down rock and hauling it out, mostly letting others identify if it's anything they can use.

Except he's hit one section where he can't get things to clear, and it feels like he's been working on the same spot for the better part of an hour and getting nowhere. The thing is... He can see the start of what could be a vein.

Stepping back and considering, he snags the first person that came by. "Hey, you willing to let me like... I don't know how to say this. Can I borrow some of your energy? I can't figure out how to do it myself but..." He holds out his hands. "Far as I know, it doesn't hurt or anything."

It hadn't hurt Cougar so it should be okay, right?

Encounter with natives

While there is a break and a bunch of brightly coloured weird kittens that Jake is totally going to try and snag one for Cougar, Jake is noticing things that totally look like elk nearby. They're more familiar than some animals, and he shifts away from the group to try and see their path.

Mostly thinking that if they could figure out their migration, they might be able to pick a few of them off during the winter where big game might make things easier. Also wandering off trail a bit, considering the path than the creatures and startling himself when he wanders too near to one and it makes a looing sound that sends him scrambling back.

In the process, he finds several shed antlers that he gathers, figuring they could be useful in making arrowheads for Cougar after asking for the crossbow from Stark.

Alex Price | OTA

[cryptoherpetology]

Enviromental Effects

Alex volunteered to serve as a medic and on-hand safari guide of sorts, but he's been largely quiet for much of the hike, content to keep adding to his notes every time he notices something new about some of the local wildlife, or sees anything else that strikes him as odd for this kind of climate.

With so many other people in conversation with each other, or occupied with the trip itself, he's content to keep to himself, cleaning and bandaging wounds (you do not ever attempt stitches in the field unless you want to court sepsis), checking for sprains and making sure no one gets overworked or dehydrated.

When the Lying Mist rolls in, he's in the last stretch of his turn at sharing a kept watch while the rest of the camp sleeps.

Peacat Dad

Later in to the trip, thanks to Tony and the others who found them, Alex finds himself with the self-appointed task of caring for a litter of abandoned very young peacock cats.

While he's used to caring for one avian/feline hybrid creature back home, keeping track of several is proving to be more challenging than he expected. The peakittens may not fly, but as their bellies fill and they grow more used to being around humans, it gets a little harder to keep them all in one place.

He can often be found throughout the trip using a fabric-covered hand to scoop up a wandering kitten from attempting to climb someone's leg, or into their packs when camp is set up and he lets them out roam out of their improvised carrier.

At least they already seem to recognize him as a source of food and body heat, so the sight of him covered in the little fuzzy-feathery creatures isn't terribly uncommon either, though he's minimizing any skin contact in order to keep his senses sharp.

Nurse Price

Alex may have a doctorate and an elaborate understanding of biology, but he is not actually a doctor for humans. But, his mother is one of the world's best medics for cryptids and humans alike, so he is at least competent with a first aid kit. He wishes this one had the unicorn water and Jorlac blood that his kit at home had, but it'll do.

In Too Deep: The Crocodog Hunter

And here we see Alex in his natural habitat. Well, maybe not a cave, specifically, but if there's any natural habitat for a Price, it's facing off against bizarre wildlife.

Facing off against it while trying desperately not to actually kill it.

"Not yet, not yet," he calls out to anyone preparing to fire an arrow at the cave wolves, running towards the sounds of scared people and growling animals, with a fabric bundle loosely tied at the top.

"Stand back and clear the area," he calls out, the normally timid nerd suddenly sounding authoritative and confident. Once he's mostly sure there's sufficient space, he lobs the bundle at the ground where the wolves are clustered, and it releases a plume of fine dark powder upon impact.

He really hopes they're not immune to shadow dust.

[ataashihunter]

The Hike
The Iron Bull had packed light for the hike. He usually did. He has his new axe and the armor that Tony had made him. It's not as much as he is used to but it is better than nothing. He's also packed a jacket, a few blankets as well as some food. Having traveled with the Inquisitor he is used to traveling light and knowing what benefits come from that. Besides if they find what they need they would most likely need to be able to carry as much as possible of that back with them. During the actual hike he is typically either at the back or the front of the group, eyes constantly scanning around them, an unease seeping into him whenever they encountered fog. But he doesn't say anything about it, instead focusing on the task at hand, keeping the people in his group safe.


The dig
He doesn't help out with the dig straight away. Instead he leaves his bedroll behind and starts out in the woods around the small camp, as he does every evening. He makes careful note of any tracks he finds, both animals he knows and especially any he doesn't. It isn't hard to do after all. He smiles when he locates a small stream not far from where they've made camp. Fresh water is always a win. On the way back, once he feels secure he has done a good search of the area he picks up a handful of wood for the fire.


Back in camp he lets others focus on setting up the camp and making food while he walks over to the dig and picks up a pickaxe, leaving his great axe aside and moves to help with the dig.

Environmental Effects

[championofsnark]

This isn't the first time Hawke's mined, although those were few and far in between and usually for very specific things. But it's something active and something that doesn't include scouting for animals, which is the priority for her these days. She's preparing for a hunt. Still, she really likes this Stark fellow and there is plenty to like about taking aggression out on the cave. She's been working hard so far, her sizable arm strength making an appearance as she tears through the rock and makes her nice little pile to take later. She's covered in soot and really should take a break, but eh. The burn feels good.

She doesn't know she's accidentally stabbed into something unexpected until she gets a face full of black powder. Shadow dust. Yikes. She coughs and wipes it off her face. There's an oddly nice taste outside of the soot. She's certainly had worse in her face. Hawke didn't ingest a whole lot, but she did ingest enough that as she kept mining away, she notices it's lacking the same whack. Less satisfying. Confused, she tries again, and she drops the axe. When she leans down to get it, her hand quite can't seem to grasp it.

"What the fuck is going on?" she questions, looking at her hands.