The mausoleum - Crater building event

[Morgan]

Morgan felt a mild chill as he reached the Crater. He always did when he was in the area; there was a distinct lack of anything living for the samoyed to sense. The area was, put simply, dead. Yet, something from the abyss seemed to exude the faintest aura up to the surface, which Morgan sensed beneath his paws as he walked. It as if there was a presence beyond the living that could be felt in the earth itself.

In any case, the cream-colored dog stopped at a tall stack of wooden planks. Beside it lied some assorted nails and hammers in a pair of metal buckets. "Alright then," he whispered, turning around to face anyone who had followed him. "This week we'll be building a mausoleum for our fallen. We'll be starting with just one room - I don't think building an entire mausoleum would be reasonable to finish anytime soon with our current numbers."

The General motioned toward the planks, then continued, "I've brought all the supplies we need here. I also already set up the base for the building, so all you have to do is build up the walls and decorate." Indeed, a small rectangular foundation of cleared-out ground sat just a few yards away from him. "I think that's about enough explanation for now, since there's not a lot to this job. You all can start whenever you're ready."

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]"Sounds simple enough." Ophelia murmured as she made her appearance, padding onto the scene. The air of this place was off-putting, but she tried not to let it bother her too much. This task was worthy of her time, of all their time, so there was no way she'd let herself be distracted by something like having a bad feeling. Politely, she dipped her head toward the samoyed. "This is a wonderful idea for Tanglewood, Morgan."

Moving forward, she would pick up some of the gathered supplies to get started on the outer edges of the foundation. She was lucky that she'd discovered her ability to shapeshift recently, as her canine form was much better equipped for this kind of heavy lifting than her smaller feline form would have been. It took her a few moments to move the planks around where she needed them to be, but it was simple enough to nail them down when she got them there, using a large paw to carefully hold the nail in place before taking the hammer in her jaws and getting to work on imbedding them into the structure. It was hard and slow work, so she dearly hoped more members would show up to make it go by faster. At this rate, it was going to take a while to get this done.

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[toboggan]

No more broken bones. Too bad that Abathur chump wasn’t around no more to see his finished work. He wasn’t one of the people being placed in the chamber, right?

In addition to owning a lack of broken bones, Leroy now had a lack of excuses to avoid work. That healed ankle of his proved healthy, certifying a sense of mobility he had not felt in about a month. Now an asset to the group instead of an annoyance, unless he was seen as one by some people, the tall mutt could put his hard as nails figure to the labour it was meant for, this time in the means of constructing a tomb for Tanglewood’s fallen, merely another noble hoopla that could be credited to Morgan’s good faith. To compliment the puffy tail-wagger after what Ophelia had said would have been irrelevant; and wasted time. Lickety-split, he found himself tugging timber, likely from that lumberjack work everyone got into that certain week, and placing it in their destined location, subsequently gathering nails and screws to be used in the process of manufacturing the lumber into a wall.

[DELILAH.]

DELILAH EVERGARDEN

Delilah was never good with hard work. The most work she ever did was gather herbs or carry injure clanmates, but besides that, she still wanted to help. The pastel feline had made her way over with a limp, her tail swishing behind her as telekinesis lifted up buckets of paint and paintbrushes. She was fond of painting, actually, it was her secret hobby. She used to paint on the city walls in her old home, murals, they called it. She was fond of pastels and nature, and vent drawing, however beautiful such things were.

"When.. When you guys are done, I can help paint..?"

TANGLEWOOD — MEDIC — FEMME — TAGS

© MADI

[Morgan]

"Thank you, Ophelia," Morgan chirped, glad his plans were appreciated. He let out a happy growl as Vigenere appeared, the warmth of his affection overtaking the coldness of the Crater's aura. "Welcome, all of you." When Delilah asked if she could paint, the dog's eyes lit up. "Of course you can!" he exclaimed. It was quite a nice idea, really - he hadn't really planned for it, but a new coat of paint over the mausoleum would make it an even prettier shrine to the fallen than it was already. "Please do."

Yet, for all of the positivity Morgan was feeling, there was still that vague chill in the background. The samoyed was brought back to reality by a strange phenomenon: the ground beneath one of his front paws crumbled and opened up a few inches, causing him to lose balance. "W-what?" However, there was nothing else alarming afterward. "Maybe..." He idly wondered if someone had hidden earth powers and was playing a trick on him, but the few Tanglers who had arrived didn't have the power in question. Without an answer and without much of a reason to look for one, he shrugged and looked around.

The small structure was nearly finished already. The canine picked up some planks and helped make the roof, and before long the crude building was complete. "Impressive," he whispered. "Thank you all for coming - if you want to help Delilah paint or decorate this thing, feel free to do so. Otherwise, I think we've done plenty for now."