August 2024 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

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.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

jyn erso | star wars

[vallt]

arrival/methuselah's feast.

[a long time ago, jyn had realized the pointlessness of dwelling on things that she can't change. she can be angry about them, sure — and she is, now, deeply angry that it's fucking cold, that something had finally been within her reach in what she'd thought to be the last seconds of her life, only to slip through her fingers — but lingering won't do her any good; it's cold, likely to only get colder if she's still out in the open when night falls, and her immediate priorities are obvious: moving, finding some kind of shelter.

so she focuses on both, trudging through the snow with single-minded purpose — even if she occasionally grumbles as she does.

eventually, she finds her way into a settlement, to the community hall at the center of it. she can barely grasp onto whatever the man who'd opened the door is trying to tell her, because her attention is immediately drawn to the food. it's not an expansive spread, but it doesn't matter; jyn has so often done with less. starving, she shovels in whatever she can grab, until —

her eyes catch on the glint of a crystal in the light. a kyber crystal.

forcefully, she sends whatever is in her hands back to the table as she reaches to snatch the crystal from whoever had dared to pick it up, snarling,]

That's mine.


lying next to you.

[when the ice had cracked, when she'd seen someone be pulled into the water below, jyn hadn't hesitated; she'd slid toward the person as fast as she'd been able, and had used what strength she could muster to pull them out to safety. she'd nearly been taken down with them in the process — and, in the aftermath, sports cuts and bruises of her own that are souvenirs of the struggle.

she'll deal with those later.

for now, she frowns at the fire she'd started, which is slow to do any good for two people who are still violently shivering. she huffs an irritated breath, looking from her new companion, to the fire, and back again. then —

she pulls her shirt over her head, shifting closer with a raised brow.]

Take yours off.

[it's not a suggestion, and she's not leaving room for argument.]


wildcard.

[have another scenario in mind? feel free to drop one here or hit me up at lensflares to discuss!]

lying next to you

[copacetic]

[ Jane barely remembers anything that happened. Just the suddenness of being plunged into impossibly cold water, and then being yanked out again. Jane feels like the cold is inside her now, like it's found its way into her damn bones. She shivers violently, and her head hurts. She feels like she's going to throw up...

A stern voice talking to her cuts through her headache, if nothing else. ]

What? [ But Jane groggily does as she's instructed, slowly peeling the wet clothes off. Her voice sounds suspicious for someone who just got rescued, though. ] Who are you?

[vallt]

[at the very least, the woman is doing as she's told, so that saves them the time they'd waste having some stupid argument about it. still, jyn rolls her eyes as she reaches for the wet clothes to toss them into a pile — and she isn't exactly making an effort to hide that she is.

it's so cold, even with the fire, that her breath clouds in front of her as she huffs, and a visible shiver moves through her, too. she tries for a sort of deadpan when she speaks again, but the effect isn't entirely there because that shiver is also audible.]

Trying to help you.

[what a specific and helpful answer! she shifts, grabbing her discarded jacket from the floor and moving to drape it around them.]

Get closer.

[copacetic]

[ Jane's eyes narrow uncertainly. It's a good thing Jyn is a woman. If she were a man, there's a good chance Jane would already be trying to kick her in the balls. As it is, it's a much more muted and quiet suspicion. ]

"Help me?" Since when does helping me mean we have to get naked? Sure sounds like something a sleazy guy would say to get me into bed to me.

[ Apologies, Jyn. Yes, she is always like this. At least she does what she's told, despite the snark, although she looks very "?!" when the blanket is draped over them. Is this really... happening...? WTF?

Okay. Apparently, it is happening. Jane hesitates for a few seconds before, reluctantly, scooting closer to the other woman. She's still shivering, and her lips are blue. She's not pressed as close as she could be, either, still reluctant to get as close as she should. ]

[vallt]

[again, she rolls her eyes — and this time with more feeling. she isn't at all deterred from what she's doing, but she's rolling her eyes. once. twice.]

Body heat is what helps.

[even without actually saying it, her tone conveys a sentiment of seriously? the way that the other woman's lips are still blue hasn't escaped her notice; though she's shifted on the floor, she's still not actually close enough, and if she wastes much more time, things could get a lot worse.

but, for now, she stays put, offering a flat,]

Unless you'd rather freeze to death before the fire can be of any use, then go ahead.

feast!

[pinkmists]

[ Jamie's already located the crystal that does belong to her — considerably less impressive, a small purple thing that fits so easily in the palm of her hand. Like the tasseled jacket that came straight out of the 80's on her person now, the crystal was just waiting there for her on a table. Like someone picked up a few of her personal items and laid them out.

She really doesn't like the thought of that, or any of this. It's... fucking weird. She'd tucked her mom's crystal back into her pocket and started perusing the table to see if there's anything else that belongs to her and that she needs back (like her phone, maybe), when she spots the really pretty, kind of blue-ish crystal there. Huh. She doesn't recognise it, but the concept's familiar enough to have her instantly reaching for it.

...Maybe it's another one of Mom's, a thought that has her heart kick-starting with a pang of ache and adrenaline all at once. Jamie's starting to hold the thing up closer to her face to examine it when someone yanks it out of her grasp and she's whipping her head around to see another young woman practically baring her teeth at her like an angry lioness.

She lifts both hands into the air like she's saying Don't shoot, brows lifting straight up. ]

Dude, sorry! I was just looking, geez!

[ Her eyes drop to the flash of the thing in the other girl's hands. She never super believed in the ability of stuff like this to actually ward off bad shit, but her mom swore by them. Although now she knows it's probably because she was so desperate to. ]

That thing must be ultra powerful if you're willing to snap my neck for it.

[vallt]

[jyn knows, on some level, that none of this is the girl's fault, and that she's not the person to be angry with. not really. whoever had taken the chain off of her neck while she'd been unconscious and dragged it with them stars knows how long — that's who deserves a fist in their face, the fist that she's just itching to curl her fingers into.

still, knowing that doesn't exactly quell the anger that's looking for somewhere to go. it doesn't soften any of the hardness in her eyes, and it doesn't stop her from clenching her teeth.]

You can stop looking now that you know it doesn't belong to you, [she snaps at the first instant she has, folding the necklace in on itself and pocketing it. but then, before her hand even emerges again —

jyn stops. after a beat, she exhales a long breath. when she speaks again, a trace of that irritation is still left in her voice, but it's quieter now. more muted.]

It was given to me. [there's some hesitation; her eyes drop away.] A long time ago.

[and, for now, that's as much as she's willing to offer.]

[pinkmists]

[ In truth, Jamie's not even really that offended — look, all of this is fucking weird and stressful and tense, and it'd be a surprise if any of them were at their best. She certainly hasn't been for a long time, even before this place. She knows not to take the snapping personal, she just hopes the other woman won't like, sock her in the face. Those eyes are sharp, and she looks like she's about five seconds away from losing it.

But then she says something else, and Jamie's immediately nodding, because she gets that, too. ]

So was mine. See, I've got one, too? [ She reaches into her pocket to extract the little purple crystal, holding it up. ]

It's not great. Probably cost a hell of a lot less than yours. But it— [ and she feels something in her hitch, her own steely resolve (maybe hers comes out more in the form of sarcasm and quick wit than anger) faltering just enough for her to feel the fissure in it, the one that's still so raw in her. She just got her mother back, and now.... ]

...—my mom gave it to me.

[vallt]

[it's only when she catches a glimpse of what's being held up in her direction, out of the corner of her eye, that jyn lifts her head fully again. there's nothing sharp left in her gaze, and the edges of the expression that she'd had not so long ago are smoothed out; now, there's only a muted curiosity as she examines that little purple crystal.

kyber, as far as she's ever known (which, admittedly, isn't much) isn't found in purple, so they're not exactly the same, but the similarities are there.

as it turns out, that's not the only one.

the muted curiosity in jyn's expression now turns to something even more subdued, almost solemn, in the face of a strange understanding. for a time, she's silent, until —]

So did mine.

[her own admission is quiet.]

arrival;

[questioningmermaids]

[ March isn't immune to the siren call of shiny rocks. He could easily spin it as some bullshit detective hunch, some PI instinct telling him that it's important, but it's far from the truth. There is a little crystal that hadn't been here before, and now its here, and hey, he can dig it. Neat.

He's holding it up to the light when a girl--brunette, cute, angry--snatches it right out of his hand and growls in a way that brings to mind one of those wolves that like to show up on the outskirts of town. March, hand still to the light but now missing the precious stone, doesn't bother to hide confusion. His brow creases and furrows, nose slightly wrinkled. Okay. This clearly important to the girl. He lowers his hand after a fraction of a second. ]

Gonna do some tarot readings?

[vallt]

[it's the question that makes jyn stop, the anger all over her that had been barreling full speed ahead suddenly screeching to a halt. confusion takes over instead, a crease forming between her brows that nearly mirrors the man's. her mouth hangs open for at least fifteen seconds, maybe more, before closing again. then opening again, for one question of her own:]

What?

[that crease between her brows deepens.]

It's a crystal. It doesn't read anything.

[what the fuck are you talking about? is unsaid, but its sentiment is strongly implied.]

[questioningmermaids]

[ The Holland March affect: who the fuck knows what the hell he’s going on about? How can anyone be angry at him when they're so baffled?

March himself stands firm, less squinty and more genuinely curious about the whole thing–about her–he can’t imagine being possessive of a crystal, and she looks about as much of a hippie as he does, which is to say not at all. He doesn’t even seem particularly bothered that she’s snatched it away like he’s got some sort of touch-based disease. ]

So it’s jewlery or somethin.’ Expensive?

[vallt]

[honestly, she's really not sure what to do with this. with him. her head tilts, just a little, but otherwise jyn doesn't move, staring him down as if that will somehow make her understand what the fuck his deal is.

that whole effort really only gets one thought through: is he... stupid or something?

she's kind enough not to voice it, though; she doesn't even end up that irritated by his next question, thanks to the cumulative effect of what does she do with this. her tone is only somewhat flat when she tells him,]

I'm not selling it, if that's what you're asking.

wildcard baybee!!!! rosehip tea

[primaryignition]

[ There are other people here, sitting around the fire, but Krennic doesn't look at them, isn't overly interested. Who are they to him? He doesn't listen to their rambling stories, though the lonely old woman does (pathetic), just focuses on the mug of tea in his bare hands, the way its warmth radiates through the thin hide of his gloves and makes his fingers prickle and swell with returning circulation that the heavy winter coat that now covers his imperial uniform couldn't. He sips from it; he hasn't really tasted anything like this before. She's calling it tea, but it certainly doesn't seem like it's made with tea leaves.

And then... a vision. Visions, like he's dreaming in the middle of the day. The planet of Vallt, his own heartbeat picking up as Galen comes into view, alive, in one piece, with that woman and their infant trailing behind him. A necessary component of the puzzle, accessories to his presence; they're nothing to him, and unworth a prisoner exchange on their own, but it will upset Galen if they're dead. Galen will feel it. He won't cooperate if he's grieving, and he won't be himself in Krennic's presence, if he's grieving. So it's two scientists that they exchange, and three prisoners that they receive (although the child isn't a person; at this age they're simpler than dogs, they barely understand anything—).

Grange. Watching crop fields burn in waves of fire that cross from one end to the next and leave blackened soil behind them, ignited by scrapes with the plasma of blaster bolts. Taking him through an armed checkpoint, getting out of the vehicle and standing off to the side while Galen the civilian took position with arms and legs spread as the hands of anonymized clones in uniform shook down his sleeves and pants legs and trunk for weapons on his own home planet. The... hope, looking over at his face, searching for some recognition of the reality of the situation, an acknowledgement of how the world has changed.

For the first time in his life, he's struck with the strange feeling of not wanting to have to lie.

Work with me, Galen. How do I make you understand?

And—looking at the body. His body. He knows he needs to move, that he needs to board so that they can evacuate and start to deal with this shitshow, but he keeps... expecting Galen to lift his head, to move, like he isn't really dead. He has died and turned the gash he opened at the center of his chest with the revelation of fifteen years of betrayal into a yawning, bleeding canyon. He wasn't ready for him to die. The man undermined him, lied to him, for fifteen years, and he still wasn't ready. If he wanted him dead he would have killed him. This should have been his decision and the insurgents stole that from him.

And now he'll never know. There are so many things he'll never know. There's an impulse, some culturally ingrained desire to not leave the body. He does anyway. He turns around, and—here he wakes up, in the cold, rainless air on a planet they call Canada. A sniper. One bolt and it's all ended.

His hands are shaking when he looks down at them. And when he looks up—a woman is staring at him with a hard, penetrating gaze. ]

[vallt]

[by the time the old woman leads jyn to the fire and offers her tea, an entire group of people is already sitting around it — more, maybe, than she's comfortable with at the moment. as if anticipating a potential turn on her heel, the woman places a gentle hand on her shoulder, reassuring her, with an even gentler smile, that there's plenty of room, please, won't she stay for a while?

the smile that jyn forces in return is hollow and strained, but the quiet sort of kindness she's being offered is something that's been rare over the course of her life; she doesn't have it within her to refuse it. not when she's exhausted to her bones, in well more ways than one.

passing by the rest of the group without looking at them, she sticks to the fringes, lowering herself onto the edge of a rock. it's after she's offered tea, and lifts the cup to her lips —

that she's not here, anymore.

it's hard to tell at first, because what she sees is snow and ice, not so different from the strange place she's found herself in, but as she regains her bearings, she notes that it's more barren, somehow. figures come into view, hard to discern at first, but then make her chest tighten: her father. her mother. clutched in her mother's arms must be her own self, as a baby.

she opens her mouth to say something, but the scene changes before she can, burning right before her eyes. the smoke has to be squinted through, but there's her father's face again, younger than she'd ever remembered — and still unmistakably him. a hand reaches out, not realizing it's stupid, not realizing it's useless, and her mouth moves again, half-forming the word papa....

until there's a voice in her ears, one that's haunted her for fifteen years, more, turning her colder than the air in this place ever could. when the vision shifts one last time to her father's dead body, an anger moving through her that is both her own and not her own, she freezes in place — except for a tremor that begins in her hands, leaving her barely able to hold her cup between them.

in the aftermath, there's orson krennic, the man in white, her own personal ghost.

still here, following her to this fucking place, to keep haunting her.

and in the aftermath, the first thing that returns is anger, because it's what she knows best. it steadies her fingers surrounding her cup, curling them in like she might deploy that as a weapon. it straightens her back, clenches her jaw, and brings a coldness to her eyes that rivals the air around them. she spits, more than actually says,]

Get the fuck away from me.

[her voice, though, is shaking much more than she'd like, and partly because of that, it sounds a little too petulant to her own ears.]

[primaryignition]

[ The young woman curls her hands tighter around her own mug like she intends to throw it at him or something—what the hell? Again, situation keeps him from looking any further into his thoughts around Galen and his death. Instead Krennic focuses his attention on carefully seting his mug down in the snow between his feet and making soft, nonaggressive eye contact as he slowly straightens up, showing her the palms of both black-gloved hands in quasi-surrender. Look at him, he's so very nonthreatening. ]

I'm sorry? [ He gives an apologetic smile. ] I'm not following.

[ It's possible that this is someone who recognizes who he is, but he doesn't recognize her face—meaning that, if she does know of him, he far outranks her. If she tries to convince the other people around this fire of whatever intergalactic crimes he may allegedly, in her view, be guilty of, though, who is a more reliable, trustworthy speaker, some bedraggled, unstable young woman, or a calm, uniformed officer more than twice her age?

Krennic isn't overly concerned here. ]

[vallt]

[there is no sight that jyn has seen in her entire life that makes her gnash her teeth in more than this: the faked innocence, the forced pleasantness, the fucking apologetic smile he's giving her. complete bantha shit like this is just standard operating procedure for the empire — she's been processed through the system, been in and out of incarceration, enough times to confirm — but it just looks so much worse on him specifically. because he knows what he's done, and he knows exactly who she is; she'd told him, directly to his stupid fucking face, that on top of the tower.

where he was supposed to have been left for dead.

but instead — and instead of anyone else who could have fucking made it off of scarif — he's here, smarming and playing dumb. her teeth aren't just gnashing; they could be close to cracking from the force of it. her fingers curl around the mug in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

she's not taking this.

without taking her eyes off of him, and without so much as shifting from where she sits, she hurls the mug in the direction of his head.]

lying next to you

[notarat]

[ Falling into the ice definitely had not been Billy's best moment. But to be fair - the ice had always been fine. He's been here for months and months and months, and not once has the ice done as much as cracked underneath his feet. He doesn't know if it just got too hot or if it's this place messing with them, but he does know that he doesn't like any of it one bit.

His only solace was having been saved. It still feels kind of wild that Jyn bothered to save him at all, a total stranger, but even though Billy is relatively quiet about it, he is grateful about the act now they're sitting here rather than drowning in the cold water.

.. maybe not grateful enough to take his shirt off though.

Billy stares at her without that shirt on, looking absolutely like he just saw something terrifying. Victorian sensibilities aren't exactly a great thing to have in a situation like this, but it's not like he can just turn them off.

So he quickly turns his head away, his cheeks suddenly looking very red for someone who was stuck in ice water only a few moments ago. ]

No, I--

[ He gets that it's not a suggestion. He's heard tones like that before to know enough that saying anything isn't likely to change her mind, but he has to try. Please, Jyn, he may die if he has to turn his head back to see you without that shirt again. Please understand. ]

.. Please-- Do put that back on. [ Please! He's begging you!! ] I feel I know what you mean to say, but I-- if you are willing to trust me, I can help you even with it on.

[ It might help if he wasn't being so vague, but his mind is still kind of all over the place at the whole taking shirts off thing, alright. ]

[vallt]

[it's startling, almost, when the man actually does speak. for all intents and purposes, he's been quiet and compliant with everything she's asked (told) him to do so far; a little too quiet, in an unnerving way, but that's not going to stop jyn from trying to save him a horrible death from the ice or otherwise. she freezes for almost an entire thirty seconds before turning, the blanket she's managed to find bunched in her hands.

what she finds when she does, him turning bright red, the elaboration that's not actually an elaboration at all, has her mouth opening.

for a moment, she gives him nothing but a blank stare, her brows furrowing. then, maybe, a piece starts to fall into place in her mind. without warning, she says, bluntly,]

I'm not trying to fuck you, if that's what you're worried about.

[very, very obviously not.

like... what?]

You need to get warm. The fastest way to do that is with skin touching skin. Clothes are just going to get in the way.

[notarat]

[ He only looks more flustered when she comments that she doesn't want to fuck him. It's definitely not the reason he was flustered in the first place, but her bringing up the idea certainly isn't helping - especially when the reason that he's incredibly homosexual is half of the reason he's like this around women in the first place. But that's not something he can bring up to just anyone, and--

Okay. Billy takes in a deep breath and tries to drag his brain back to a level where he can at least speak. So far she has seen pretty competent, but also direct enough that he isn't entirely sure if she might not make a move to help him get his clothes off before he's even agreed with it, just out of a sense of practicality.

And that might kill him sooner than the cold would. ]

No. [ He's almost sputtering the word now, shaking his head. ] You don't understand.

[ And he'd like to explain, but the fluster is a little too strong to force out too many words right now--

So he has to make her understand in a different way. And he knows a way, but just touching women in general is a big no-go where he comes from, even in a context like this, and he seems to struggle with himself and everything he has learned in his life for a moment before he reaches out to grab her hand with his own.

Maybe that will help her explain what he's trying to say - because his hand is.. warm, despite the fact that he ought to be incredibly cold like her after that accidental dive in the water. And not even just a little warm. It's weirdly warm, almost like pressing your hand against a space heater. ]

[vallt]

[that reaction, the fact that he gets more visibly flustered rather than less, has jyn at a complete loss. what she'd told him should have been a reassurance, right? she'd made a conscious effort to remove anything that could've possibly been awkward about this situation.

he's right; she doesn't understand.

she understands even less when he's suddenly reaching for her hand, but the motion seems like such an undertaking for him that instead of jerking away, she keeps her mouth shut and remains still. patient, for whatever it is he's trying to communicate. her eyes flick from his face to the hand that's reached for hers and back up again, confused crease forming anew between them, but then —

something becomes clear.

her intake of breath is sharp as the warmth, coming from that hand, transfers to her own skin, too. just from this brief contact, it's almost as if neither of them have been out in the cold at all.

quietly,]

How are you doing that?

methuselah's feast

[chromiums]

[ lorna’s not sure what she’s looking for, exactly, but she’s noticed people finding and claiming items of theirs and tries, in vein, to put feelers out for hers. where there should be a pull towards something metallic, something glinting and green, there’s nothing, and she finds herself getting all the more desperate and frustrated the longer she goes without finding anything. it’s not even about finding it, really, it’s about the fear that her abilities aren’t working. she feels disconnected from herself, angry that something’s been done to her in addition to being abducted, and increasingly angry.

so when jyn snatches the necklace she’s tugged out of a pile of belongings, she earns a dark glare, but she releases the crystal easily, even with the childish temptation to hold it tighter out of principle.

(motherhood doesn’t always come with maturity.) ]

Take it then, Jesus.

[vallt]

[the only thing a glare like that should get is one in return. as jyn clutches the necklace tightly in her hand and shoves it into the nearest pocket she can find (for now, she won't put the chain over her neck, just in case someone tries to go for it again), she's delivering back in kind through narrowed — and unblinking — eyes. if she has to, she'll do this all night.

inside her pocket, her fingers, still clutched around the crystal, curl into her palms, forming the beginnings of a fist.]

What the hell is your problem?

[— asks the woman who'd just nearly taken someone's head off.]

[chromiums]

[ lorna doesn't want to fight, in spite of the provocation; not when she's unable to access her ability to feel and manipulate metal. she doesn't know enough about this place to feel comfortable revealing the vulnerability yet. so she relents, holding her hands up to show she's not harboring anything else, but the glare remains firmly in place. ]

Sorry, was I the one who snatched something out of your hand? [ well, technically, the item was hers. but she'll know what she means. ]

[vallt]

[somewhere, deep down, jyn knows that there isn't a point to starting a fight; she'd gotten her kyber crystal back, hadn't she? it's safe in her pocket now, and there hadn't even been a struggle to get it there. she has all the reason to just move on with her life.

but maybe she's itching for a damn fight. maybe the restlessness and the anger that's been collecting since she'd woken up in the fucking snow needs some kind of direction. already, the idea of that makes her feel just a little bit better.

so she turns to fully face the other woman, feet squared on the floor. she's clear-eyed and steady, and her next words are precise.]

You were the one holding something that didn't belong to you and acting like an ass when I took it back.