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methuselah ([personal profile] singmod) wrote in [community profile] singillppl2024-08-07 09:42 pm
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August 2024 Test Drive Meme

AUGUST 2024 TDM


PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: Yet another new group of arrivals find themselves lost in the frozen wilds and vulnerable to the dangers of nature. With luck, they make it to the town of Milton, and to a friendly face offering food, warmth and shelter — not to mention the fact they are not the first to come here.

PROMPT TWO — TEA TIME: A mysterious stranger offers Interlopers some tea by her fire, with... unexpected results.

PROMPT THREE — YOU LYING NEXT TO ME: Thawing and quake activity in the Northern Territories make for a deadly mix, particularly with bodies of water.


ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST


WHEN: Mid-month.
WHERE: Milton, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential animal attacks, potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk.

'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'

It’s the last thing you hear. A dark, deep voice. Impossibly ancient. You feel afraid. Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you’re wide awake. You saw the lights, and then your world went dark. But you hear it in the blackness, you won’t forget those words. You will later learn that these are the words of The Darkwalker, a malevolent being that exists in this world. It knows of your presence here, and you will be far worse off for it.

You awaken. You are not where you were before. It’s different for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern in where you find yourself. You may open your eyes to find yourself in a cold, dim and dank cabin. The air is stale, dust hangs in the rays of weak sunlight that shine through the tiny windows. Someone lived here once, but they aren’t to be found. You look around, it seems like no one has been here in several weeks, maybe longer. The fire is stone cold, the dishes in the sink are mouldy — it's possible the place has been ransacked, as if they've gone through the drawers and cupboards looking for something. It is quiet. The wood creaks around you. Or perhaps you may awaken to find yourself shivering in the yawning maw of a cave, the freezing stone below you. Or maybe you’re unfortunate enough to sit up to find yourself lying in the snow, in the middle of the wilderness. Snow lies thick around you. It’s freezing out. You haven’t felt a cold like this before in your entire life. Cruel and biting. You have no idea where you are, and what’s worse — you are completely alone.

You may feel different, too. Any powers or magics you may have feel... absent. Disconnected. Things that may not have affected you previously now do. Something in you has changed.

You know you can’t stay where you are. You’ll need to move, try to work out where you are and how you came to be here. So you walk, head out into the unknown, in hope of finding a trail or a road. Interlopers who arrive in the month of August will find that there is often disturbances and damage to the earth and roads — often similar to that found following quake activity. Care should be taken in finding your way.

Soon enough, you'll be able to find a path to town. A little more worse for wear, but alive. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused — battered from the journey. You’ll both need to keep going. It won’t be easy. You hear howls of wolves around you, and the terrain is difficult: slips and falls are likely. You’re completely vulnerable out here in the open.

Or it’s possible you may come across someone else here. Someone who looks far better prepared to deal with the freezing cold and frozen landscape, out hunting or gathering. They’ll likely offer help and get you into town. However, for the unlucky ones who don’t come across anyone, you’ll carry on until you smell it through the fog: the scent of smoke that seems to cling in the still air. Fire. Not just one, but several perhaps. Civilization...?

Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the foggy mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights, even if it may appear a little eerie in the half-light gloom: a small mining town tucked up in the valley. Battered, rusted road signs will direct to “MILTON, POP. 947”. You’re almost there, you keep going, and it looks like other people have had the same idea as you. In fact, you’ll hear the muffled sounds of life. People! In the town!

As you head into the outskirts and then further into town, you’ll find it’s a little easier to walk but the cold has gripped you hard. You’ll find the buildings, both shops and homes, some are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up, some of them are occupied. People are going about their business, or stood watching from their tiny porches of their small, timber homes. For a town this big, there doesn’t seem to be many people. Several dozen at most, but no more. Some of them will direct you to the Community Hall, tell you to head there — you've been expected.

Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building where many people seem to gather: a community hall, by the looks of it. You’ll find more and more people all drawn to this place, each and every one of them in the same position as yourself (and your companion, if you’ve found one). Some are in worse states than others: some are bloodied, nursing bite wounds or cuts; others might have some other kind of injury sustained in the journey here from falls. Everyone looks as though they could faint from the cold at any second, damp and shivering.

The door opens, and you’re greeted by the gnarled, wizened face of an elderly man, dressed in thick furs. He has a kind face, but looks sad. He smiles warmly despite the sadness in him, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.

“As I suspected, another batch of poor souls from the wilds.” he nods gravely. No, this is not the first time that this has happened. “I am Methuselah. I welcome you Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. The lights are changing things, bringing more of you here. Come, we must get you warm and fed. Mother Nature has not been kind.”

The room is dim, lit only by natural daylight through the windows. A roaring fire sits at one end of the huge hall. It crackles, bright and cheerful... and warm. Even as big as this place is, the room is pleasantly warm. You’ll also find basic cots set up down one side of the hall, and while it seems there's a few people already living here, there's enough space for those in need of them. There's places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold.

Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long tables offering food, and drinks similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers. Newcomers will hear from others of Feasts held before, but the offering this month are… somewhat meagre. Newcomers will hear from others of Feasts held before, but the offering this month are… somewhat meagre. There are canisters with hot herbal teas and perhaps a rare canister of coffee. Soup and stew are on offer, but little in the way of charred/grilled meats. What little game Interlopers already here have caught has been used wisely to stretch it further. There is grilled fish, however. That is the most plentiful, it seems. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast.

The old man has been busy. And Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks. He does not have much time to talk. More and more people seem to be coming in from the cold. He will not stop to sit and rest until everyone is seen to, taking up a place by the fire to gaze silently into its flames. He is very troubled, thoughtful. Much has been happening. The others from town will eventually trail in too, to eat and warm themselves, and search among the new faces.

He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the town and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much. Methuselah seems exhausted. Life within the Northern Territories has been very difficult for all who dwell here. But perhaps you might be able to get some answers from those fellow arrivals who’ve been in this place for some time now.


TEA TIME


WHEN: Mid-month — end of the month.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: altered/magical drinks; loss of inhibitions; physical age changes; body horror/animal attributes; memory sharing; possible fourth-wall breaking; future visions;



It is incredibly rare to come across others in the Northern Territories, but certainly not unheard of. Even if the town of Milton had lost what seems to be its entire population before the arrival of Interlopers, there are still others native to this place out in the world. Young Bill and Methuselah are proof of that, as are the Forest Talkers — who have a tense relationship with the Interlopers, to put it lightly. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think that there could be more.

The old woman appears to be one of them, wrapped in many layers of synthetic clothing and furs. You may come across her as she wanders through the world, or perhaps find her huddled around a campfire in the depths of the wilderness. If one were to hazard a guess, they’d assume she were some kind of nomad like Methuselah.

She’s friendly sort; that’s the first impression you make of her. It’s safe to conclude she isn’t with the Forest Talkers. She regards arrivals with wide eyes, beckoning Interlopers to come join her by the fire. Softly spoken, with a mumbling quiet voice. It might seem like she’s not all there, and seems harmless enough. Perhaps a little lonely. Who isn’t in this place? She is mostly curious about the Interlopers themselves and will be interested in hearing about them, asking them questions about their worlds and lives. She’s a very keen and attentive listener.

As conversation grows, she will boil some snow for water upon her fire. With all this talk, what better way than to add some tea to it? The weather is getting colder, too. Something hot will stave off the chill. Out of her rucksack, she will pull out a carved wooden box. It is something quite precious to her, and within it are several small metal tins. She will show it to the Interlopers, and inside there will be different blends of herbal tea. She will ask which of the teas you would like to drink.

The choice is yours, Interlopers. But drinking one of these teas will have… unexpected results.

BURDOCK TEA: An earthy and bittersweet tea, with a slightly nutty flavour. Drinking this tea will pull away any inhibitions and mental filters and make you more susceptible to speaking your mind and being more honest with those around you. Maybe you want to tell someone how much they suck, or maybe you want to confess your feelings to someone. Maybe you just really want to air out your grievances about your life or current situation. And they say alcohol will loosen tongues.

HERBAL TEA: This miscellaneous ‘herbal’ smells pretty fragrant, but you can’t quite tell what’s all in its blend. This tea will show you a random moment from your future. This might be something immediate within the Northern Territories, or it may be a moment of your future within your own world. The vision itself will only last for a few moments, and then fade into black.

ROSEHIP TEA: A sweet and floral tea with a tangy aftertaste. This tea will show you a moment of your past, replaying it out before you as if you are watching it like one watches a movie. It may be a happier time, a fond memory of sorts. Or perhaps it will be your worst memory ever: a failing, a wrong decision, a difficult or upsetting time in your life. What’s more, is that anyone drinking this very same tea with you will also experience this moment with you.

REISHI TEA: A bitter tea with a woody flavour. This tea will change your appearance physically in some way. It may be something small like changing your eye or hair colour. It may go even more extreme and temporarily give you some kind of animal features: ears, scaly skin or a tail.

BIRCH BARK TEA: A pleasant wintergreen drink that tastes faintly like rootbeer. Drinking this tea will change your physical age. You may revert to a younger version of yourself, or become an older version of yourself.

Once drinking the tea, you will find yourself alone. The fire is almost embers beside you. You will find that you will never come across the old woman again, no matter how hard you try to find her.

YOU LYING NEXT TO ME


WHEN: The month of August.
WHERE: Everywhere. And specifically: Milton Basin, ponds around Milton Outskirts; Lakeside Lake, misc. Water sources.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk; potential partial nudity.

There has been an instability in the earth as of late. Interlopers have been made aware of the fact that the Northern Territories have been victim to quakes in the past. But lately, there has been new seismic activity, which has not helped matters. In Lakeside, it is certainly more obvious to see: sections of the railway track that run through the area have buckled, roads are damaged and undrivable and the bridge that leads out towards the coast has crumbled away.

But the damage extends beyond the roads and railway tracks, something which Interlopers will, unfortunately, discover as they go out travelling or exploring the world.

It is hard to tell which part of the ground will give way, it often happens without warning. Interlopers will simply be out walking and the ground will suddenly collapse from beneath them into small pits and ravines. They’re easy enough to climb out of for the most part, but Interlopers are in danger of sprains and even broken bones if they don’t land right. But they may end up being completely submerged in the snow, leaving them not too worse for wear but very cold. They’ll certainly need to be dug out, and hopefully, they’re not left for too long, either. Hopefully some kind-hearted stranger may find them.


The most dangerous of all are the frozen lakes, ponds and streams. It feels like the Northern Territories have been a place of endless winter. The snow has never left, and the thick ice of almost all water sources remains. While certain smaller bodies of water have thawed enough for Interlopers to fish, most have remained in a permanent state of frozen solidity. Interlopers have been free to walk across the ice untroubled. But the quakes have… endangered the solidity of what seemed to be unmeltable ice.

What was once a rare safe bet will become no more. Unsuspecting Interlopers travelling or exploring these ‘frozen’ waters may find themselves in for a nasty surprise. Without warning, the ice will creak and groan beneath their feet — the sound echoing, a strange kind of sharp snap. Then, with a groan, the ice will give way: plummeting whichever poor soul stands upon it down into the frigid waters below.

Such cold water is dangerous no matter the depth, but some will be much luckier than others. Some of the smaller ponds within the Northern Territories will only reach waist or chest height, but the much deeper bodies of water like the Basin and Lakeside Lake will prove far deadlier. Getting victims out of the waters is half the battle, trying to do so risks yourself. Many may find themselves falling in with their companions — and although a way out can be achieved, the harder part is warmth.

Getting the poor souls who fall victim to falling into the water or trapped in the snow indoors and close to a fire is a good start. Building a fire takes time, though. It could be a while before a roaring fire is going. So alternate plans might need to be put into action. Let’s hope there are some dry blankets nearby, and it’d be a good idea to get out of any soaked clothes before they freeze on a person.

They do say that sharing body heat is also a good way of heating up a person who’s suffering from the cold. Hypothermia is deadly, after all. Skin-on-skin contact works best, wrapped up in blankets. Who has time for getting awkward about it? Getting cosy might just save someone’s life.

FAQs

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST


1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.

2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.

3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.

4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.

5. More information about Milton can be found here.

TEA TIME


1. The effects of the Burdock, Reishi and Birch Bark teas will last for 24 hours.

2. Physical changes to characters (ie. getting animal ears) will be purely aesthetic.

YOU LYING NEXT TO ME


1. For those down in the Basin, there is a small hut/shack with a fireplace that Interlopers can use for refuge to warm up. Shelter in other places isn't too far off. Best get warmed up quickly!

2. Interlopers already in-game with the Cold Fusion Feat won't be susceptible to cold damage/hypothermia if they fall into the waters but will also not be able to warm up their fellow Interlopers who end up taking an icy plunge.

3. Interlopers already in-game with the Lightbringer or Moon Touched Feats will be hugely beneficial/vital in warming up their fellow Interlopers who fall into the waters.

meadqueen: (Thinking)

[personal profile] meadqueen 2024-09-23 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Randvi scoffs in return. “I'm not concerned about my effect on women.”

Before she’d married, she had been taking so many pretty girls into the loft at the longhouse that her father had removed the access ladder.
sukeltaja: <user name="yayifications"> (I breathe out)

[personal profile] sukeltaja 2024-09-23 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
He can tell there's warmth now, the room and the blankets and the fire and the company all slowly spreading through his bones, settling in. Tom welcomes it gladly, welcomes the Doctor (that's what it is!) just as gladly.

"Oh, I found my way," he assures. "Made a home. A little air pocket just for me. A hotel room, actually, and I could do whatever I wanted. Make whatever I wanted!" That doesn't answer the question, though. Tom quiets down, thinks a bit. That's helpful, too, and eventually he shifts not out of need, but out of comfort.

"What year is it?"
friendsfordinner: (definitely up to something)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2024-09-24 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
Zane's intensity about Alan makes sense. His intensity about the doctor, on the other hand....

Well. Hickey needs to talk to this Darling bloke.

"Dunno. The doctor seemed fine. He seemed like he was true in his beliefs and that he trusted Wake wasn't acting of his free will."
goingtobeunwell: (say what)

[personal profile] goingtobeunwell 2024-09-24 01:39 am (UTC)(link)

The answer to that question, of course, is that he shouldn't do a damn thing but try to stay awake long enough to get into a proper bed. He shakes his head insistently, wandering off and then returning once more with a few blankets draped over his arm. No linens to be found, but the blankets aren't too musty from sitting in the closet for that long.

He dresses the bed, single hand working overtime to flip and flatten the blankets in place. He doesn't look at all frustrated or exhausted by the extra steps; in fact, Crozier seems to be wearing the slightest of smiles on his face, and has done since returning back to the cabin.

Because he didn't hallucinate or dream that James Fitzjames has stepped through the veil of death and returned to him. James is right in front of him now, tired and hungry but alive, and he's so pleased he feel he might not sleep at all tonight. He used to keep vigil beside Fitzjames' bed - he imagines there might be a similar impulse tonight.

Crozier sits on the edge of the bed and slips off his boots, glancing briefly up towards Fitzjames and giving him the raised eyebrow. He won't have to tell him to get into the bed; Fitzjames will surely just know. They were of the same mind once, or very nearly the same mind, and he hopes some of that will remain.

bigbaddy: (012)

[personal profile] bigbaddy 2024-09-24 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
".. that can't have been easy," he says - a little slowly, like Bigby had to contemplate it for a moment. There's a strange kind of sympathy in his voice though, like he can somehow comprehend what she's saying. Like he could imagine a span of ten thousand years a little bit better than most people could, for some reason.

"I mean, that's an awful long time to sacrifice, even if it might've been for a good cause."
bigbaddy: (002)

[personal profile] bigbaddy 2024-09-24 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ...

Yeah.

Okay. Alright. This guy doesn't believe him. Even if Sandor didn't practically radiate that sentiment, then Bigby would still have been able to pick up on it easily. He's seen this look so many times by now, after all. It's enough to almost make him question why they even bother to hide this shit from the mundies back home, since clearly none of them are inclined to believe it, even when they're in the middle of other supernatural circumstances.

It leaves very little personal offense within Bigby. Mostly because he's come to expect this by now, and-- well, it helps that he's got his wolf ability back now. It helps that Bigby knows almost half the town can turn into a wolf.

Maybe it'll be fun to see Sandor's facial expression once he finds out. Bigby hopes he can be around for it. It'll make this moment feel so much better in retrospect. ]


Thanks.

[ There's no hostility in his tone, but the word is said extremely dryly, not bothering to hide the fact that the other's disbelief has been perfectly conveyed.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything. Bigby doesn't even get up, like he's just letting the other take that leave for now, wondering when Sandor will find out the truth. ]
afterdrop: (another tricky day)

[personal profile] afterdrop 2024-09-24 06:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[The cat ears are... certainly something, which Charles is mostly ignoring. There's a slinky, slimy cat god back in his world that he would rather not be reminded of right now, despite the fact that Zane's slow, sideways smile isn't dissimilar.

Food, though. That's a subject he'd much rather latch onto, and he quickly does.]


Yeah. That'd be aces.

[Fish is something he used to like, right? Fried, though, from the chippy down the way. He can't remember the taste, or the smell, but he can remember the cute girl who worked at the counter, and the jingling bells on the front door.]

Better than the broth I had earlier, at least. [Which was basically just warm water with an odd smell; he hadn't taken more than a sip.]
castitas: (054)

aaand we can wrap there

[personal profile] castitas 2024-09-24 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
I guess that's true. [ There's a sympathetic look, her smile wan but still kind. Oh, she knows that one only too much — given everything she's been told from the others: particularly Lieutenant Little, Mr Goodsir and Mr Crozier. Yeah, she gets it. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Only... whatever the cold version of that is.

Her head lifts, more people are stumbling into the Hall. Methuselah already has his hands full at the moment, so Kate straightens. ]


I.. should get back to it. We never know how many end up coming here, but— [ It feels like a whole lot, this time. Fortunately the injuries don't seem too bad — it's mostly people too cold to stand, exhausted and freezing from the trek into town. Still, there's plenty to do. ]

Let me know when you'd like more tea, and I can get you all set. [ She nods, raising a hand in farewell. ] It was nice to meet you, Commander.
thedreamer: (023)

[personal profile] thedreamer 2024-09-25 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, now this is curious indeed. He's drawn to every word like a great novel unveiling itself by the page. A drowning man who found a pocket — through time, through space, through layers of reality? — and made a home. It could be nothing more than chatter made messy by what he's just gone through, it could be far less than the sprawling possibilities he's now imagining, or it could be far more. It's the far more that always keeps his mind spinning. The possibility.

"D'you know, Tom Zane, I do believe you'd find your way anywhere at all."

If he's going to sit and have a chat, the Doctor simply cannot be entirely idle, which sometimes means the simplest of movements, like his hands fidgeting a bit in his lap as they talk.

What a question, though, for someone who travels across time. He has no use for years, but it's only because he's been in this world as long as he has that he can actually answer this one.

"Technically, 2015 here. But considering so many have been displaced from other worlds, other times, it's all an amalgamation anyway. The year here is less important. It was the year three thousand and twenty two for me, but six months ago, I popped by Venice in the 18th century to see a man about a chicken. A week later, it took me a month to spend a day traversing the singing mountains of Arcanus IV. I feel time, that's how I keep track. Or I did, before this."

He does keep that watch on his left wrist, though. Force of habit.

"— tea! Sorry, I was making tea. Keep talking." He hops up and disappears around the corner to get a small kettle boiling.
burying: (pic#14702800)

[personal profile] burying 2024-09-25 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Kieren exhales, eyes closing for a brief moment. Ah, shit. Yeah. It's not great. It sounds even worse when he says it out loud. A year stranded in this place is a fucking nightmare. ]

Listen, I get it. There's important shit we've all got back home. None of us want to be here. [ And this place doesn't even want them here. ] It's not to say no one ever leaves. People disappear again, but— we're not even sure what's happened to them.

[ It would be a nice though to think they've gone home, though. ]
he_shall_walk: (look forward)

[personal profile] he_shall_walk 2024-09-26 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
"For my people, my star, I have given all and would again," she says simply enough. She has watched them, fractured and incomplete, now prey to suffering and death and pain. She has watched them struggle and question and beg, knowing that her choice had allowed such things into what had once been paradise.

A false paradise, but paradise all the same.

"In truth," she says quietly, "this world, this chance at life, is a gift unimagined. I thought my time finished, my work done. It is a twist of strange fate that I be thrust upon a new world, made mortal once again. Strange but not unappreciated."
he_shall_walk: (lightly amused)

[personal profile] he_shall_walk 2024-09-26 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
This seems, to her, a strange group to need a shorthand expression. But she does not doubt him. But his question brings her up a little short.

"Why do you ask?"

The answer is, as the kids say, 'old as balls'. Older, in fact.
he_shall_walk: (interest)

[personal profile] he_shall_walk 2024-09-26 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
She grins and shakes her head. No, of the many titles given to her, 'witch' is not one of them. Never has she held the title of such as Matoya. And yet-

"My people, the Ancients, were the forebears of mankind. Our magic allowed the creation of all manner of creatures. It was a custom to keep a familiar, a creation dear to one's heart, and one special to me as my primary function was to travel and explore. To have a companion on such journeys was a boon."
dreamsofwings: (112)

[personal profile] dreamsofwings 2024-09-26 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah," Eren answers. There's no point trying to convince anyone or trying to cushion it to make it easier to understand or believe. Titans have been the looming threat since long before he was born.

Now that threat is Eren, the Attack Titan and then some.

Not that it matters much here and now. That grates on him, the inability to access all that power he had.

"They can be killed, just like anything," Eren says. "It's just not easy. The city I grew up in was walled in, 50 metre walls all around us. It kept the titans out, but it kept us in, too. Penned in like livestock."

He shakes his head.

"People learn to live through almost anything, I think. I can't imagine the world without titans. What was the place you came from like, then?"

He imagines (wrongly) that there weren't any monsters there.
gildedlife: (41)

[personal profile] gildedlife 2024-09-26 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
In another situation he might've put up a little more argument, or at least a token protest, but when Francis shakes his head James just accepts it, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He watches Francis get the blankets all adjusted, the whole thing strangely hypnotic in how mundane it is, how simple, yet how impossible. And yet here it is, and here they are.

And indeed, he doesn't have to be told in words that it's finally time to rest. James only copies Francis in sitting to removing his boots because he's vaguely concerned that Francis would fuss if he just tried to sleep with them on, but soon that's handled and at last he can fully get into bed. He leaves room for Francis, the bed more than large enough for James to keep to one side and still have more space than he's had in years, and between the warmth of the parka and finally lying down the effect is immediate.

He intends to tell Francis to get some rest too, but it comes out as nothing more than unintelligible mumbling, and he's asleep only moments later.
nohero: (anime 06)

[personal profile] nohero 2024-09-26 10:29 am (UTC)(link)
Thankfully, the chest isn't completely devoid of helpful items, though it's not the treasure trove Reiner might've hoped for. (If "hope" didn't seem an utterly foreign concept.) He finds sacking—the type that might have one held grain. The texture is rough, but that doesn't stop Reiner from immediately scrubbing his head, using the sacking to dry his freezing hair. He rubs down the rest of his body, too, friction turning pale skin pink, then belatedly hangs his soaked clothing over the back of a chair to drip dry.

Behind him, Eren works to start a fire, the sounds familiar enough for Reiner's imagination to fill in the blanks. He pictures Eren's face, impassive but still beautiful. (No bandages, now. No unfamiliar facial hair.) He pictures Eren's eyes focusing on the wood as if it personally wronged him, a shadow of the passion that used to burn in them. He pictures Eren's hands, smaller than his own, but strong and just as smooth.

Outside, the wind howls as though it wants to rip its way in and continue its work, tearing away the heat and freezing their too-human bodies. Reiner hears it only as background noise, their breathing and movements seeming far louder.

The cold could kill them. For all Reiner knows, it will. But Eren is the greater danger by far.

So is Reiner.

You looked like the bad guys to me, too.

He finds sheets stowed at the very bottom of the chest. Sheets, not blankets. He frowns—who the fuck prioritizes stowing sheets over blankets?—before pulling them from the chest. They're finely woven, and there are enough to layer, but…

Eren moves closer. Reiner turns, meeting Eren's eyes. Seeing Eren's outstretched hand. An offer. A threat. A confirmation that Eren won't let cold kill Reiner.

In his mind's eye, he sees Eren's bloody hand reaching for him, lifting him from the basement floor. He sees Jean above him, Reiner's hand clenched in his, refusing to let Reiner fall.

What would they say if they knew they were working for the same thing? That they both stubbornly refused to let Reiner die?

Not that Jean can speak. Not anymore.

A shadow passes over Reiner's face. Grief. Horror. Despair. An exhaustion so much deeper than bone.

He shuts his eyes. Opens them to find Eren still there, still real, Titan marks carved beneath his eyes. There are no marks on Reiner's bared body save for those on his cheeks, all evidence of the violence they've inflicted on each other wiped away. Monsters, both of them.

Reiner takes Eren's hand, squeezing tighter than strictly necessary. With the sheets tucked beneath his other arm, he starts toward the fire and its (definitely questionable) towels.

"So, you keep me alive," Reiner says as he takes a seat. If Eren didn't intend to sit down, too bad; Reiner intends to sit close, sharing what little body heat they have. "Then what, Eren?"
afterdrop: (cans and brahms)

[personal profile] afterdrop 2024-09-26 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[The words are gentler than Charles feels he deserves, and they take some of the wind out of him, gradually deflating his anger. He glances around the room, taking in the small, murmuring crowd; all people just like him, with lives and loved ones back home, possibly in peril, their fates unknown.]

Yeah, sorry, I- you're right. [For so long, his world has just been he and Edwin. Even in their line of work, it's always been easy to forget that everyone else has their own shit, their own desperation.] It's a shit situation for everyone.

[He reaches up again to press at his nose, prodding curiously to see if the pain is still there.]

Where're you from?
questioningmermaids: <user name=thwipster> (08)

[personal profile] questioningmermaids 2024-09-26 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're very Lord-of-The-Rings-y, is all." He's fairly sure that's a reference she won't get. He tries again.

"You've got a vibe."
phaseflex: <user name="professordipshit" site="tumblr"> (god don't let me lose my mind)

[personal profile] phaseflex 2024-09-26 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
You look great for your age. Don't let it get you down. [she gives him a little punch on the shoulder again-- aware it's probably something he's heard a million times, but it's always different when she does it, in her humble opinion.] Weird. I wonder if there's different reasons for us all to end up here. There are many for me, but if they've successfully taken my power do I don't quite know why I'd be left alive.

[she puts a hand to her chin, then shrugs.]

Ah, whatever. Do they have any sweet treats around here?
sukeltaja: <user name="yayifications"> (Just like a sheet of ice)

[personal profile] sukeltaja 2024-09-26 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Tom stares, and the his grin pulls into a wide, pleased smile, playfully touching at her shoulder in a half, nonviolent punch.

"Well good for you, gorgeous!"
sukeltaja: <user name="yayifications"> (So far below heaven)

[personal profile] sukeltaja 2024-09-26 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
The finger lowers, although only after a brief moment.

"That's..."

Well, it's not good, but Tom's nose wrinkles and his jaw sets and he's very visibly thinking incredibly hard about something.

"That will do. You've been a real help, pal. Real help."
sukeltaja: <user name="yayifications"> (Everyone else has gone there)

[personal profile] sukeltaja 2024-09-26 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Has to be.

[ Tom's sliding an arm around him, a casual gesture--always touchy, always feely--and he's curbing him away to the community hall. ]

I have a friend that used to say 'the brave will eat the pea soup.' Old Finnish idiom. It's ringing a little literal these days.

[ He'll help this one. Guide him. Or at the very least, figure him out. Baby steps for both of them. ]
sukeltaja: <user name="yayifications"> (We huddle naked in this alley)

[personal profile] sukeltaja 2024-09-26 08:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Tom, in turn, clings to the Doctor's every word like he'd been doing physically with him only moments before. The other weaves words in a way that goes beyond stories, beyond myth--he's Lemminkäinen, God among men, telling stories true and fantastical, protecting those who cannot.

Tom believes the other. Perhaps he shouldn't--perhaps the tale is too impossible--but Tom knows truth when he sees it, knows that the impossible is very much possible. He's proof of that.

"I want to hear more about feeling time," he confesses, transfixed. There's something here, he thinks. A commonality. Another artist working in the same medium as he is. The doctor moves and swerves about, but aside from gesturing wildly, Tom's fairly still. The fall into the lake, the cold, it doesn't much matter to Tom at all anymore.

"A good story warms better than a fire."
phaseflex: <user name="professordipshit" site="tumblr"> (pic#13861124)

[personal profile] phaseflex 2024-09-26 08:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fascinating. I suppose some of us have likely done similar in the past, but it's mostly the big flashy powers," she says, raising a shoulder then looking back down at her arms. The blue markings are still clear, but she doesn't like them lacking their glow. It punctuates what she is missing, especially in the low light. "I am human. I then inherited the power when the previous owner of the Phasetrance died, or gave them up. I'll likely never know."

She looks away from him, to some others milling about the place, to their saviour moving from person to person.

"This is probably rude to ask, but were a guy first or a wolf? How's that work? Seeing as we're trading our deals."
friendsfordinner: (i am the only person finding this funny)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2024-09-26 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"Glad to be of service," he says, with a little smile and a nod. "I've been here longer than most—close to a year at this point. I'm always here to help."

Like the normal, friendly guy he is!