Chapter Text
New people arrive, typically one at a time, and they must have a home. So trees are felled, rocks gathered, thick thatch laid over frames made of branches. The houses are not grand, but they are private residences safe within the circle of logs driven into the ground.
Around the bonfire are leisure areas, the food stocks that Chef and Cook guard with their lives, denizens chatting sat upon mismatched furniture. The houses form a lumpy ring around that, then there are more specialized areas.
What was once the edge of the wall houses an industrial area. Engineer constructs his turrets, Cyborg and Alien repair their tech, Blacksmith slaves over his anvil to make what he pleases, usually tiny baubles like forks and spoons and barbed wire. Poison Master’s house is right next to this area, because the toxic fumes from his work are only slightly worse than those produced by what basically amounts to a factory.
On the opposite side from the industrial area is the farm, for obvious reasons.
The compound continues to grow. What once was a house on the outskirt is now basically in the centre. The pond that Fisherman had to walk to everyday now sits squarely within the compound, and by his new house to boot. They’ve even assimilated a pre-existing cabin, though it’s slightly less impressive now that most denizens have a house bigger than it. Not the newcomers, they’ll put up with a tent till their house is done.
Consequently, the once flawless circle of logs is now lumpy. If anyone were to see it from above, they may remark over its striking resemblance to a cancerous tumour. The only pleasant sight on the exterior was the entrance into the compound. It held a dangerous sort of beauty, owing to the skull torches, veritable mountain of barbed wire, and turrets with the barrels still smoking.
There are still corpses draped over each other and tangled into bloody masses of robes and flesh. Come morning, the corpses will be gathered and thrown into the volcano while Base Defender gathers the barbed wire.
The farm will be tended, turrets repaired, scrap and wood gathered for more construction.
Such a life, an endless life, it is not so unpleasant with company.