RP:Building Fort Bell Hole

Gillyflick was, at the moment, covered from head to toe in dirt. In her small green hands was a shovel. Just to the left of the Bell a hole was beginning to form. "This... this the spot," she gleefully chimed to herself as she flung another glob of dirt over her shoulder. "Fill it with rocks. Build a table. Make a door... and a bed!" Nearby sat a toad which stared blankly just past the goblin. Perhaps she was speaking to it? Or perhaps she was just speaking to herself... it was hard to tell with her kind sometimes.

Demeter moved low, her throwing daggers in hand as she had been following track of a rabbit. Staying in the lowest of a crouch she could muster without loosing any balance and falling over. Keeping her cloak on to hide the fact she has wings, the hood on with a scarf wrapped around her face. The Lamashtian moved forward slightly more until she was closer to the prey. Moving her arm back, ready to let the dagger whistle through the air when dirt had landed upon her head. The rabbit ran off as she stood up to her full six foot two height, looking for whomever the flying dirt had belonged too. Grey eyes narrow as she found the source. “Ey!” She shouts, crossing her arms that reveal tattoos filled with black outlined in crimson starting at her wrist up to her neck and across her collar bone. Flicking some the dirt off her shoulder in direction of Gillyflick.

Gillyflick stood up straight (or at least, as straight as her slight droop of shoulder would allow) and turned as soon as she heard the voice. At first she held her shovel in a defensive stance before herself... but then she took on a more agressive stance, as if the shovel was a spear. Finally, she noticed the dirt sitting on top of the other, and the green lass fell into a peal of laughter. "Ey! In the way. Got dirty, not my fault!" She paused. "...Yes my fault. Still funny." She grinned- until she realized, of course, she herself had been pelted with dirt in return. "Oi! You're gonna fill hole! I make hole, you don't fill hole! It's mine! Need it empty. Gottabuilda HOUSE!"

Demeter ’s brows lowered then pinched together, seeing her try to shoo her away with a shovel. The creature began laughing at the dirt upon them, slipping her hood off. Removing the scarf to reveal her face with the scar across from the forehead all the way over and L shaped nose from getting broken too many times. Tying it to her belt, “Oh no, I don’t dig holes I put bodies in holes not dig them. You can keep the dirt and this mud house to yourself. You are working hard for it. I prefer living in trees. What’s your name hole digger?”

Gillyflick kept snickering, but took a couple of steps closer and moved the shovel, preparing to draw a line in the leaves- but was stopped as the other relaxed and revealed her face. Gilly hesitated a moment, squinted, and jabbed the shovel forward just a little, as a warning that she was Probably Super Dangerous And Don't Mess With Her Hole. Eventually she settled down, and stabbed the small shovel into the ground so she could lean on it. She had decided that if the other woman had that many scars, she was probably pretty cool. Tough knows tough, after all. "Name Gillyflick. Your name?" She clearly wasn't a perfectly fluent speaker of common, but spoke it well enough to not feature the typical grunts and thick accent that many goblins speak with.

Demeter rolled her grey eyes as she continued with the shovel if she had kept up the avian would had drawn the sword to cut the shovel in half. Eyes carefully watching Gillyflick’s movements to see if even after put the shovel down that wouldn’t grab the handle to swing it at Demeter’s head. “Demeter.” Luckily the goblin didn’t mind the avian’s own accent being a deep Icelandic that she did her best to dumb down. “So, I take it you build huts made of mud?”

Gillyflick shook her head so heartily that her twin braids flapped around her face. "No, no. Just this hut. Gonna have a trap door. Movin' out, gotta do Gillyflick thing, not gonna stay home forever." She had a particularly inspired expression in her eyes. "Gonna be a buzyboy. Nottashaman. But also shaman. Maybe. If I feel like it.""

Demeter wondered if she could knock herself out with those braid at how hard she was shaking her head, no cuts on her face after the braids touch the flesh. If Demeter did that, the razor blades hidden away in the braids would had sliced her face and different places. “Why not make many huts, and switch up between them depending how you feel? A white clay house, a red dirt clay house, which ever color you feel like that day?” Maybe she was making a joke, maybe she wasn’t. “What is a buzyboy?” The pyromancer tilted her head, this creature was interesting. The most interesting yet.

Gillyflick scratched her chin and nodded sagely. Or at least, as sagely as a goblin could get. "Pretty good idea. Lotsa house... good for doin buzyboy buziness." She snapped the fingers of her free hand. "Gonna do it. But can't do all at once. Start with Bell Hole. Gonna name house one Bell Hole. Cuz." She pointed at the hole, and then to the bell. "By the Bell, is my hole." She looked up curiously, not understanding why the other wouldn't just automatically know every facet of goblin culture. Goblins were everywhere! They were very important, and everybody should know everything. Maybe this one had been living in a hole for a long time, too. She might as well explain. "Find stuff. Trade stuff. Sometimes trade for other found stuff. Sometimes trade for coins, for to trade coins for food. Might bring coins and stuff to bell, gifts for Bell House God."

Demeter nods, “You enjoy making yourself all those.” Her nose wrinkled up at the thought of digging holes and getting her wings dirty, not like it was hard to clean her feathers but still she rather not get them dirty unless it was because she was in a battle or war. Then that was a satifised dirty, and the bathing afterwards was the second best reward after a good solid win. “Belle Hole will be fabulous, please excuse me as I am hungry and need to hunt some food. I shall come back soon and bring you a gift to welcome the Bell house god to the area.” Nodding her head before she turned and left through the woods.

--less than an hour later--

Gillyflick had not too long ago now bid a farewell to a previous passerby, and was now once again using her smallish shovel to fling clods of dirt over her shoulder. At this point, the hole was deep enough that she'd have to climb out. This wasn't really a problem. Goblins, after all, are remarkably good at scrambling around and scaling up precarious incline. She was humming something... but whatever it was was just awful, for she couldn't sing a single note of the "melody" in key. Nevertheless, her tone was merry, as if the act of making this hole had chased away any of the worries she might have in her life.

Kreekitaka had elected to remain mounted on his steed as he moved through the forest with a makeshift net launcher--a modified spear-thrower loaded with a mesh strung with strong thread. Precisely how the bus-sized creature atop which the crabman rode was able to stay as silent as it could while it moved had been rather astonishing to Kree at first, but today it made for a great hunting partner. He was, you see, out to capture various creatures to test them for mystical properties, as tasked by Jinfeng the other day. Alchemy was to be done, and using animals as ingredients! So when he heard the strange cry of some foreign creature, he tilted his head and urged the carcharodontosaurus in its direction, silently cruising through the forest, following the song--which he believed to be some form of mating call--until he emerged at the burrow of some as-of-yet hidden creature. Still, he was fairly certain the hole was wide enough for the net launcher to fire through, so before his mount could make some kind of snort sound and reveal their presence, he took aim and... fired!!

Gillyflick seemed to not notice that she had been netted right away. It was when her shovel caught in the net, keeping her from her next dig, that she turned her head to look. "Oi! Digging here!" She yelped. She let go of the shovel which was now stuck in the net. This proved to be a very bad idea, for it immediately smacked her directly in her forehead. She emit an indignant screech and scrambled up the wall of her hole, so she could stick her tongue out at whoever was responsible for this disturbance.

Kreekitaka started hauling on the trailing line of the net once he felt he'd made a capture, only to pause in confusion when he heard an actual -voice- coming from inside the hole. More intrigued than embarrassed--for as the person popped out of their burrow, he realized he hadn't properly met someone exactly like this before--he continued to reel in his catch, if only for the purpose of more easily disentangling the net. The dinosaur sniffed at the catch and made a sort of disappointed internal rumble; that wasn't food. "I am assuming," called Kree, from his perch atop the saurian, "you are no mere creature." The net was hoisted vertically up the side of the carcharodontosaurus, and then Kree snapped his claws to cut at the thread holding the net shut. It was alright, he had more thread. "WhaTAH! prey are you hoping TAH!oo yure in wiHHHTH your maTAH!ing song, HHHTHen? I have never hearDAH! anyHHHTHing yike iTAH! before." It must be noted that, as Kreekitaka lacks things like lips and a more developed mouth and air structure, that his attempts to speak common are punctuated with bursts of air forced backwards from his gills out through his mouth. Certain sounds can only be approximated, and this has in the past led to communication difficulties.

Gillyflick squirreled about in the net, biting and tugging at the strings until she caught sight of the stranger. Her expression shifted multiple times and in quick succession. First, confusion. What was he? Second, delight. He looked like maybe-food, and had a really cool horse. Third, hunger. Maybe edible? Fourth, resignation. Too big to eat. Finally came the fifth, understandnig. The stranger had spoken, and though the accent was strange, most accents seemed strange to her. Anything that wasn't goblin... wasn't the norm. After a few moments of putting together in her mind what he was saynig, she responded between bites against the net. "Not huntin. Singing. Singing good for digging. Digging good for buildahouse." She spoke in short, quick sentences, sometimes combining several words together as a makeshift compound. It was clear she'd learned common, rather than having been raised speaking it. "Name's Gillyflick. Not food, don't eat."

Kreekitaka 's idea of construction was decidedly different and involved building -up- instead of digging down, but he'd dug large pits himself to pour water into for breathing. This little being didn't seem to have gills, though, so perhaps she just wanted a house in the ground. "I see," he said, as his claws worked to open the net and shake it slightly over the neck of his dinosaur. If she missed the landing, a claw would leave the net and make a grab for one of her limbs or something to catch her and deposit her safely atop the mount's head. "I am KreekiTAH!ka." He paused expectantly, paddles flaring dramatically, expecting recognition for his high-fashion clothing brand and various heroic exploits. Eventually, he sort of deflated a little and asked, "WhaTAH! sorTAH! of house are you construcTAH!ing?" Something told him that selling an entire housecrab might be off the table, but if there was something like a giant turtle around here that could be repurposed into a house, they could both profit from its hunting.

Gillyflick did indeed tumble, and emit a small embarassed grunt of thanks as she was settled atop the creature. She patted it gently, her blood-orange eyes focusing on its scale pattern. She was gonna have to figure out a way to wrangle one of these for herself someday. As he flourished, she tilted her head, causing the ear facing up to flop slightly. "Famous? Big scale horse... Gottabe famous." She then looked over at her hole, before gazing back at him with wild-eyed glee and a cartoonishly wide grin. "Digginahole for Buildinahouse! Gonna adda trap door. Cover in leaves, top secret." She didn't seem to understand that a secret... was a secret. "Place to hide, takeanap when don't wannashaman."

Kreekitaka leaned forward just a little, the short stalks that held his eyes tilting slightly forward as well, to give the lidless, compound-eye version of squinting at someone. His gaze moved from the hole to the goblin and back again, paddles slowly rippling against each other with pseudo-musical clacks. He was pleased that he was at least vaguely recognized and the dinosaur let out a happy sort of rumble at being given attention. "Is... HHHTHis your onyee pyans for your house? A secreTAH! entrance? Giyeefyick," Kree tried his hardest, but L was one of those letters he couldn't pull off to save his life, "a house can be much more HHHTHan a pyace in which you nap, you know. How much more excavation are you going TAH!oo perform?"

Gillyflick tilted her head the other way, which caused yet another ear flop. "Gonna dig down... nuff so don't have to duck inside. Walk normal, dig deep. Use wood, make walls. Make notfloortopside. make floor. Make table for eat, makestuff. Go hunt, get fur. Make bed." To her, it all seemed perfectly logical. Door, floor, ceiling, table, bed. That's all you needed!

Kreekitaka flared his facial crushers slowly as she spoke. This, to him, was the definition of living in abject poverty and he was astonished that somebody would deliberately choose to live in little more than a hole in the ground. "If you expecTAH! you are going TAH!oo 'makesTAH!uff', are you noTAH! going TAH!oo neeDAH! some space for HHHTHe HHHTHings you are making? Or HHHTHe componenTAH!s an' ingreDAH!ienTAH!s?" Surely at least one room for storage wouldn't be out of the question? "An' whaTAH! abouTAH! having yighTAH! when iTAH! is DAH!ark? A firepyace TAH!oo cook your fooDAH! an' iyuminaTAH! HHHTHe nighTAH! mus' be in orDAH!er, yes?" Fire was one of the few things Kree adored about the land. It gave such a great flavor to meats. "If iTAH! rains, how are you going TAH!oo prevenTAH! your home from fiying up wiHHHTH waTAH!er?"

Gillyflick scratched her chin and pondered these questions. They were all very good ones. She hadn't thought about any of these issues just yet. "...Fort Bell Hole... needa kitchen. Needa fire hole. Needa rain... escaper." She turned and examined the hole she'd begun digging. "... Bell House God protect? Use post, make m'brella?" She raised her hands up over her head to mime a shelter from the rain. "Gottafinda big leaf."

Kreekitaka rattled his paddles a little less musically at the thought that this poor creature was going to use a "big leaf" to protect a hole in the ground from being rained on and shook his head. "GoDAH! proTAH!ection is, in my experience, unreyiabo. SomeTAH!imes very usefo. SomeTAH!imes no. I can make maTAH!eriohs which mighTAH! fix your DAH!oor so rain cannoTAH! enTAH!er." Come to think of it, he knew where he could get excavator trilos, too. "How yong are you expecTAH!ing TAH!oo work on your home, here, an' whaTAH! sorTAH!s of 'sTAH!uff' can you make? I can bring ouTAH! a work crew TAH!oo hepp you make your home, buTAH! you mus' unDAH!ersTAH!anDAH! I mus' make iTAH! worHHHTH HHHTHeir TAH!ime. BarTAH!ering may ayow me TAH!oo convince HHHTHem TAH!oo assisTAH!." I mean sure, he could just pay them--which he'd have to do anyhow--but the crab wasn't in the business of doing charity work.

Gillyflick looked at her hole again, her brow furrowing as she considered how much digging was now part of the equation. "....Prolly dig for week. Maybe two week. Then start tyin' stick together for the floor." She grinned. "Can carvewood. Can make woodstick be other woodthing." She pointed to the bell. Rested against it was a well (but not quite fine, it was clearly still novice work) enough made oak longbow. "Can makeadoor. Can makeafloor. Can gettabigleaf." The goblin now scratched her chin for a moment to scrunge around in her pockets. Eventually she produced... three pebbles, half of a broken stick, a snail shell, and a single unpopped corn kernel. "...What I gots. Gottamakeahouse before I can be a buzyboy so I can do the trading. Told that to otherlady. She came. You came."

Kreekitaka paused in consideration. This person clearly lacked... any sort of way to adequately compensate his work. But she did have a bow, and she would be solidly entrenched in these woods for a while. "Here is whaTAH! I can offer," he said finally, carefully reaching down with one of those huge claws and taking only the snail shell and popcorn kernel. "I can reTAH!urn wiHHHTH workers an' burrowing creatures for excavation. I can proviDAH! maTAH!erioh for keeping rain away an' making your home... cozier. In exchange," he paused dramatically, clenching his facial crushers, "I requesTAH! you save one of every burrowing creature you finDAH!, catch iTAH!, an' keep iTAH! for me." This seemed like the best way to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement with what she had--she wanted to dig, and he needed rare animal parts. "An' if you finDAH! anyHHHTHing specioh whioh ouTAH! hunTAH!ing, Io requesTAH! some of iTAH!, aoso, whioh we are making HHHTHe house. Is HHHTHis fair?"

Gillyflick thought as carefully a mostly-goblin could about it before ultimately nodding and giving him a thumbs up. "Catch lotsa burrowcritters. Save good deadstuff and trade! First buzyness! Now'm a buzyboy! Deal is a deal is a deal is a deal." She was beaming again at the crab-man, and pocketed the remaining pebbles and half-stick. She'd find SOMEONE to trade those with later- and she could rub it in her brother's face later that someone had wanted the popcorn kernel, after all. "Fort Bell Hole gonna be comfy. Dry. Good." This must have been some sort of thanks, for as she offered it, she seemed almost bashful.

Kreekitaka kicked a rope ladder from the saddle over the edge as a way for her to quickly descend the dinosaur without getting hurt or trying to climb down its teeth. "ExceyenTAH!. Io senDAH! a messenger TAH!oo my crew an' have HHHTHem here in yess HHHTHan a week. I yook forwarDAH! TAH!oo seeing HHHTHe finisheDAH! home!" Once she was down, he once again clenched his facial crushers in gratitude and as a respectful sign-off, then urged the theropod into a walk--once again engaging that surprisingly silent tread. He did need to send that messenger, but there was no harm in trying to catch some other creature on his way back to town.