HOME | DD

Description

~2k words
Done by ze excellent;
Lobst
www.deviantart.com/aviyinglet

Many zhanks for zis wonderful Ying!

But as a very new fan of OOPs, only starting to read it last month, I've quickly become very invested in the world. And as is often the case with worlds I like I quickly start to think of a lil bean of my own to stick in them. So from that thinking came Fixol here. An exile, as I wanted to give Avi/Lobst something new to try and bring to life and I thought he would make a more interesting character. I hope you all enjoy the little history and current situation I've tried to weave together below. It may be slightly confusing but that is on purpose as Fixol himself is not fully right in the head most of the time. But hopefully over time he can improve with some help

The Younglet gazed in wonder at the wagon as it rolled past. Kept from getting closer as he was still tightly holding onto the Matrons tail as she tried to work out a deal with the merchant. But then the wagon stopped its movement. Large wheeling rolling to a stop. The tiny green eyes gazing at it as his hands slowly let go of that tail just below the poof. Reaching out to it instead. So large. So tall. Able to hold so much. How? How it do? Before the scruff of his neck was snatched up with a hurk before he was pulled back to the Matrons side. Quickly told about how dangerous it was. He could have been rolled over by the wagon! The wagon. So big.

"Scav! Hurry up!" Fixol doing his best to bow while keeping his posture low to avoid the half hearted swing from the dock worker. Picking up the glue canister as he tried to skitter sideways to get back to the axe. Trying to lightly stand on the handle before gently applying some glue to the crack down the axes haft. Before clenching his foot while getting some twine from his apron. The muttering of the Humans behind him returning to booze and women as the Yinglet worked. A few wraps was about all he could do as the axe was handed over, a half eaten apple given in return. It was something. The Yinglet quickly running back into an alley way away from the laughing humans.

A slightly bigger Younglet was back at the wagon. The Patriarch of Trade in charge of dealing with him today. And now under the wagon the Ying was able to see that the wheel was indeed connected to something. A big long wood stick! And they were connected to...tooo...lick. Not wood. Much colder. Much less tasty. Small nails tapping on it. Much harder. Different color. But important for sure. And held onto the big box with small little thingies. Lick. Tasted like the thing the stick slid into. Before his tail was nabbed and he was dragged away from his exploration. Noooo! Wagon!

Perched on the edge of one of the posts on the dock Fixol sighed as he carefully watched the Humans moving about. One hand over his eyes to try and keep the rain out of them. Things would go missing surely. Things no one would miss. The ships were full of tools and materials. They didn't need them all right? Tail curled around the back of the post to try and keep his balance. But still nothing. And here came the angry man with the lantern. Waving it in his general direction and shouting to be heard over the rain. But Fix was already hopping off and jogging away. No luck today.

"See! See! Spear! Good!" The spear held up by shaky small arms. Formally snapped in half after the guard had tried to walk through a doorway in the Enclave too fast. It had been...fiddled with. Really the small Ying had really just wrapped kelp strands around the two separate pieces until they would stay together without him holding it. But it wouldn't stand up to any kind of swing or knock. But the guard just smiled and carefully took it so it wouldn't immediately fall apart.
"Good job. Good fix."
"Fix! Fix good!"

Success! An old chipped hammer with half the handle gone! He could use that. It would be good enough. The things you found under broken windows sometimes. Fixol not trying to focus too much on the shouting and yelling from inside the dockside tavern as he quickly grabbed his prize and ran off. The blood on the bottom of the broken handle was fine. Would provide extra grip once it dried.

Now with a spear of his own Fixol, recently named as he had never stopped saying it a few months ago, was pleased to find himself back in the Human city again. But he had to keep using his free hand to point his muzzle forward. One of the Matrons was here for an important trade mission. He needed to be alert for that. Not looking for new chances to see how things connected to other things. How things were held on here. How he could use that to improve the Enclave. The trade deal thankfully went perfectly well however. And Fix had volunteered to carry the crate of materials back. This way he could look around at all the buildings and devices the Humans had just all over and just walk straight. Humans could build it. Surely Yinglets could? Just needed to find out how it all connected together.

It all connected together at one point. It had to have done. Just...just figure out how it had before and go from there. The chair leg and its connecting strip held upside down. Then sideways. Then finally the correct way as Fixol slowly lowered it down to slot it onto the hold on the chair base. "Yes...yes?" He muttered to himself as he slowly rotated it before there it went! Connected! A bit of jimmying to remove that bar before the glue was applied and then slotted in again. It was a poor quality chair really. But he had fixed it. It was wonderful to him.

They just needed materials to build with. Steal them? No bad - he had been smacked around the ears for that suggestion before. Trade for them? Yes that was good. The Humans had a lot of materials and the Yinglets only had the food and small crafts they made. Things the Humans generally were not interested in. Fixol tossing his spear from hand to hand as he tried to work through this quandary. What did the Humans use a lot of in their buildings? Wood sure and that really hard kind of shiny...whatever it was. But stone. That they had around. They had a small mountain next to them. A few caves that were being used when they got here but the stone was far too hard to bite through. Too many shellteeth lost in attempts. That was it! The spear point stuck in the ground as Fixol turned and headed toward the mountain side. Just need to find out how to un-connect the stone and then they would have trade and space!

Blowing the wood shavings off of the cane he was working on the Yinglet would cough and wave his file in front of his face as he lay on his back on the dock pier. Glancing up at the old human who just smiled and waited. He was not shouting. It was nice. Fix trying to give him a smile back before he returned to the curved top of the handle. The old man had said out loud how rough the handle was. And Fix had offered to try and help. And thankfully his finger pads made it easy to feel his progress as he slowly tried to smooth out the wood. It was going well! And he was given a handful of oysters! Excellent success! All for him!

The Patriarch of Stone was game for the idea. He normally just oversaw the use of the caves and the few attempts there had been over the year to try and expand them deeper. Or going in when a new cave was discovered to check if it was stable for use. But making a new cave on purpose?! Finally something to do after all the close by caves had been seen. But the stone. Hard and tough. Teeth no good. They would need something else. Fixols spear left behind as he volunteered to go to the Human city to ask them. They had lots of it in their homes. They must have known how to get some.

---

And they did in the city itself. Though they were not willing to part with it for free. But with a goal so clear in his mind Fixol was more than happy to spend three days with the Humans. Crawling under their homes to grab tasty pests - really a bonus for him! Or being thrown on top of roofs to clean out gutters. Plenty of work for someone who was small and eager. And after the accident his experiences here would save him from starvation if he could not find something to try and fix for his food. Though on the docks those jobs were rare. And getting into the city itself was rarer still.

It was with a happy cheer from the Patriarch at least when Fixol finally arrived back at the Enclave exhausted but laden with tools. Heavy and sharp ones as well as some powder he had only been briefly explained what it would do. But that was ignored when the tools were something much easier to hold. The Patriarch and Fixol heading to test them out immediately despite the tiredness affecting both of them so late in the day. It was hard to resist trying it out really after they had talked about it for so long. The two finding a place a good distance but still in sight of the Enclave. Some untouched stone. Perfect for testing! The pickaxe picked up the Patriarch and giving a test swing. It hurt. The Yinglets sticky long arms not good for that kind or movement. But there was a dent in the stone! Small but there it was! A small cheer by the two before Fixol remembered the weird powder! Maybe it would help dent the rock more! So the black powder was spread over the impact point as the Patriarch happily raised up the pick. Telling Fixol to go get a Matron to show what good work they were doing! Fixol about fifteen steps away when the next strike, and spark, set off a fireball that ate half of the Patriarch away.

---

It was a bad day. It had been a decent week before except for the rain. But no food. Nothing to scavenge. No projects. No jobs he could find to do on the dock. And the lantern man had said a lot of extra words in addition to no. So no chance to try and get into the city. So the Exile returned to his small hovel behind the run down former food stall. The repaired chair kicked over as Fixols mind darkened. Thinking back to that spark and flash. It had been one of the other guards or males. They were jealous of the time he had with the Patriarch. Wanted to get rid of Fixol!

The mostly empty food bag just making his spiral continue.

They had been the one who killed the Patriarch. It had been their powder. They had worked with the humans. But who...many of them talked about the Central Enclave often. So many could have done it. Perhaps...perhaps they had all done it! Fixol now stalking in circles around the small drippy home. All of them jealous of him and his fixing ways. They all wanted him out. All wanted him Exiled! A tiny pafp heard outside as Fix punched the wall. Close to where he had punched it two weeks ago. And they had killed the Patriarch for it...the poor poor Patriarch. One of the few who believed in him. The orange fluff slowly sliding down the wall and curling up as a few tears leaked down his muzzle. He missed the Patriarch so much. Those monsters had killed such a kind and strong Yinglet for their own jealous gains. The scavs! Thankfully for his mind Fixol soon drifted off to sleep.

Hopefully tomorrow's dock circuit would prove more fruitful for food and distractions.

Description

~2k words
Done by ze excellent;
Lobst
www.deviantart.com/aviyinglet

Many zhanks for zis wonderful Ying!

But as a very new fan of OOPs, only starting to read it last month, I've quickly become very invested in the world. And as is often the case with worlds I like I quickly start to think of a lil bean of my own to stick in them. So from that thinking came Fixol here. An exile, as I wanted to give Avi/Lobst something new to try and bring to life and I thought he would make a more interesting character. I hope you all enjoy the little history and current situation I've tried to weave together below. It may be slightly confusing but that is on purpose as Fixol himself is not fully right in the head most of the time. But hopefully over time he can improve with some help

The Younglet gazed in wonder at the wagon as it rolled past. Kept from getting closer as he was still tightly holding onto the Matrons tail as she tried to work out a deal with the merchant. But then the wagon stopped its movement. Large wheeling rolling to a stop. The tiny green eyes gazing at it as his hands slowly let go of that tail just below the poof. Reaching out to it instead. So large. So tall. Able to hold so much. How? How it do? Before the scruff of his neck was snatched up with a hurk before he was pulled back to the Matrons side. Quickly told about how dangerous it was. He could have been rolled over by the wagon! The wagon. So big.

"Scav! Hurry up!" Fixol doing his best to bow while keeping his posture low to avoid the half hearted swing from the dock worker. Picking up the glue canister as he tried to skitter sideways to get back to the axe. Trying to lightly stand on the handle before gently applying some glue to the crack down the axes haft. Before clenching his foot while getting some twine from his apron. The muttering of the Humans behind him returning to booze and women as the Yinglet worked. A few wraps was about all he could do as the axe was handed over, a half eaten apple given in return. It was something. The Yinglet quickly running back into an alley way away from the laughing humans.

A slightly bigger Younglet was back at the wagon. The Patriarch of Trade in charge of dealing with him today. And now under the wagon the Ying was able to see that the wheel was indeed connected to something. A big long wood stick! And they were connected to...tooo...lick. Not wood. Much colder. Much less tasty. Small nails tapping on it. Much harder. Different color. But important for sure. And held onto the big box with small little thingies. Lick. Tasted like the thing the stick slid into. Before his tail was nabbed and he was dragged away from his exploration. Noooo! Wagon!

Perched on the edge of one of the posts on the dock Fixol sighed as he carefully watched the Humans moving about. One hand over his eyes to try and keep the rain out of them. Things would go missing surely. Things no one would miss. The ships were full of tools and materials. They didn't need them all right? Tail curled around the back of the post to try and keep his balance. But still nothing. And here came the angry man with the lantern. Waving it in his general direction and shouting to be heard over the rain. But Fix was already hopping off and jogging away. No luck today.

"See! See! Spear! Good!" The spear held up by shaky small arms. Formally snapped in half after the guard had tried to walk through a doorway in the Enclave too fast. It had been...fiddled with. Really the small Ying had really just wrapped kelp strands around the two separate pieces until they would stay together without him holding it. But it wouldn't stand up to any kind of swing or knock. But the guard just smiled and carefully took it so it wouldn't immediately fall apart.
"Good job. Good fix."
"Fix! Fix good!"

Success! An old chipped hammer with half the handle gone! He could use that. It would be good enough. The things you found under broken windows sometimes. Fixol not trying to focus too much on the shouting and yelling from inside the dockside tavern as he quickly grabbed his prize and ran off. The blood on the bottom of the broken handle was fine. Would provide extra grip once it dried.

Now with a spear of his own Fixol, recently named as he had never stopped saying it a few months ago, was pleased to find himself back in the Human city again. But he had to keep using his free hand to point his muzzle forward. One of the Matrons was here for an important trade mission. He needed to be alert for that. Not looking for new chances to see how things connected to other things. How things were held on here. How he could use that to improve the Enclave. The trade deal thankfully went perfectly well however. And Fix had volunteered to carry the crate of materials back. This way he could look around at all the buildings and devices the Humans had just all over and just walk straight. Humans could build it. Surely Yinglets could? Just needed to find out how it all connected together.

It all connected together at one point. It had to have done. Just...just figure out how it had before and go from there. The chair leg and its connecting strip held upside down. Then sideways. Then finally the correct way as Fixol slowly lowered it down to slot it onto the hold on the chair base. "Yes...yes?" He muttered to himself as he slowly rotated it before there it went! Connected! A bit of jimmying to remove that bar before the glue was applied and then slotted in again. It was a poor quality chair really. But he had fixed it. It was wonderful to him.

They just needed materials to build with. Steal them? No bad - he had been smacked around the ears for that suggestion before. Trade for them? Yes that was good. The Humans had a lot of materials and the Yinglets only had the food and small crafts they made. Things the Humans generally were not interested in. Fixol tossing his spear from hand to hand as he tried to work through this quandary. What did the Humans use a lot of in their buildings? Wood sure and that really hard kind of shiny...whatever it was. But stone. That they had around. They had a small mountain next to them. A few caves that were being used when they got here but the stone was far too hard to bite through. Too many shellteeth lost in attempts. That was it! The spear point stuck in the ground as Fixol turned and headed toward the mountain side. Just need to find out how to un-connect the stone and then they would have trade and space!

Blowing the wood shavings off of the cane he was working on the Yinglet would cough and wave his file in front of his face as he lay on his back on the dock pier. Glancing up at the old human who just smiled and waited. He was not shouting. It was nice. Fix trying to give him a smile back before he returned to the curved top of the handle. The old man had said out loud how rough the handle was. And Fix had offered to try and help. And thankfully his finger pads made it easy to feel his progress as he slowly tried to smooth out the wood. It was going well! And he was given a handful of oysters! Excellent success! All for him!

The Patriarch of Stone was game for the idea. He normally just oversaw the use of the caves and the few attempts there had been over the year to try and expand them deeper. Or going in when a new cave was discovered to check if it was stable for use. But making a new cave on purpose?! Finally something to do after all the close by caves had been seen. But the stone. Hard and tough. Teeth no good. They would need something else. Fixols spear left behind as he volunteered to go to the Human city to ask them. They had lots of it in their homes. They must have known how to get some.

---

And they did in the city itself. Though they were not willing to part with it for free. But with a goal so clear in his mind Fixol was more than happy to spend three days with the Humans. Crawling under their homes to grab tasty pests - really a bonus for him! Or being thrown on top of roofs to clean out gutters. Plenty of work for someone who was small and eager. And after the accident his experiences here would save him from starvation if he could not find something to try and fix for his food. Though on the docks those jobs were rare. And getting into the city itself was rarer still.

It was with a happy cheer from the Patriarch at least when Fixol finally arrived back at the Enclave exhausted but laden with tools. Heavy and sharp ones as well as some powder he had only been briefly explained what it would do. But that was ignored when the tools were something much easier to hold. The Patriarch and Fixol heading to test them out immediately despite the tiredness affecting both of them so late in the day. It was hard to resist trying it out really after they had talked about it for so long. The two finding a place a good distance but still in sight of the Enclave. Some untouched stone. Perfect for testing! The pickaxe picked up the Patriarch and giving a test swing. It hurt. The Yinglets sticky long arms not good for that kind or movement. But there was a dent in the stone! Small but there it was! A small cheer by the two before Fixol remembered the weird powder! Maybe it would help dent the rock more! So the black powder was spread over the impact point as the Patriarch happily raised up the pick. Telling Fixol to go get a Matron to show what good work they were doing! Fixol about fifteen steps away when the next strike, and spark, set off a fireball that ate half of the Patriarch away.

---

It was a bad day. It had been a decent week before except for the rain. But no food. Nothing to scavenge. No projects. No jobs he could find to do on the dock. And the lantern man had said a lot of extra words in addition to no. So no chance to try and get into the city. So the Exile returned to his small hovel behind the run down former food stall. The repaired chair kicked over as Fixols mind darkened. Thinking back to that spark and flash. It had been one of the other guards or males. They were jealous of the time he had with the Patriarch. Wanted to get rid of Fixol!

The mostly empty food bag just making his spiral continue.

They had been the one who killed the Patriarch. It had been their powder. They had worked with the humans. But who...many of them talked about the Central Enclave often. So many could have done it. Perhaps...perhaps they had all done it! Fixol now stalking in circles around the small drippy home. All of them jealous of him and his fixing ways. They all wanted him out. All wanted him Exiled! A tiny pafp heard outside as Fix punched the wall. Close to where he had punched it two weeks ago. And they had killed the Patriarch for it...the poor poor Patriarch. One of the few who believed in him. The orange fluff slowly sliding down the wall and curling up as a few tears leaked down his muzzle. He missed the Patriarch so much. Those monsters had killed such a kind and strong Yinglet for their own jealous gains. The scavs! Thankfully for his mind Fixol soon drifted off to sleep.

Hopefully tomorrow's dock circuit would prove more fruitful for food and distractions.