A Monkey's Charm

[Tomtomrawr]

December 25th, 818A.S. 16:42

Beneath the wooden hut, the twenty-nine members of the Primusian Communist Party were celebrating the festive season. The hut was a ploy, it being the cover from which the PCP could access the underground structure. It had been a mining site, originally created by the Zoners during their short stay using Primusian and machine labour. Like many other sites, it had been abandoned and forgotten. Now it served the PCP as the perfect hideaway from the problems above ground. Until they needed to gather supplies, anyway.

The network of tunnels was small, the mining only beginning a few months before the Zoner evacuation. But the PCP had still been able to turn the small space into a home for all its members, and their families. They could decorate it the way they wanted to, without worry. If they hung up posters of the hammer and sickle in their homes it would be too public a display of their beliefs.

But in the cave, which they had named Iskra, the stone walls were carved with great memorials of communism and its glory. A Coalition flag, preserved by their ancestors since the launch of the Hispania, hung on the wall and was the first sight when entering Iskra. The next thing were the printing presses which printed a newspaper of the same name, to be distributed around Primus. The name Iskra had been chosen mostly due to its reference to the political paper founded by Vladimir Lenin, but it was also chosen due to its irony. The Spore sometimes made reference to a spark, and as Iskra translated into Spark it seemed somewhat suitable.

The Spore had done so much for the Primusians, even the PCP respected it. It had given their world new life, lush green forests growing in what used to be an unpopulated radiated wasteland with the occasional lifeforms poking their heads out of the soil.

The printing presses led to the main meeting chamber, its entire space occupied by a massive wooden table. The table could seat thirty places, each place using a high-backed wooden throne-like chair. The wood was a tinged dark brown, resembling mahogany. The members of the PCP were all present, all but one chair occupied. They each wore smiles of joy as they feasted upon Christmas food. They were preparing to pull the crackers.

Each person grabbed two crackers: one for each hand. Maktu had been told to count to three, which would be when everybody pulled on the crackers.

'One,' Maktu's voice rang out through the chamber. Everybody prepared to pull their crackers, their muscles tensing and the chamber falling into silence. 'Two. Thr-'

Somebody pulled a cracker. Everybody else began to pull on theirs, and soon the chamber was alight once more with laughter and conversation. There was truly a joyful atmosphere in the chamber tonight. Maktu felt saddened that he would have to ruin it.

He pushed his chair back, and stood. He was eight feet tall, his fur coat matching the sun-tanned wood of the hut. His eyes were a knife-edge blue, and sparkled with such power and authority that perhaps they were the inspiration for the name of the cave. He bent himself down and lent his hands on the table, his palms flat and showing his hairy knuckles.

'Comrades.' His voice was dominant, and in an instant all other words in the chamber died mid-conversation as the others turned to face him. Waiting on their Premier to address them. 'Today. Today, Comrades. Today is the day we leave.'

---

[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.

Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.