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singillppl2024-08-07 09:42 pm
singmod) wrote in singillppl2024-08-07 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
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
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.
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.
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.
Re: lying next to me
When he gets the belt dangled for him - well, at least it's something, and he grabs it with both hands, half-wrapped it around one wrist to brace it.
"Got it-!" And he starts to pull, hoping to whatever god is listening that the stranger's properly anchored - Arthur's light, but still.
And lo and behold, it only takes a little bit of scrambling to get an elbow back over the edge, and to get hauled back up to solid ground again.
Re: lying next to me
He lets go of his end of the belt only once the man is back on surface level, and despite the circumstances, the Doctor smiles softly, while looking him over.
"Officially, welcome back to the surface, we're glad to have you on solid ground again, do mind your step," he offers first with a slightly cheeky grin. "You okay?"
Re: lying next to me
"I've certainly taken worse falls, don't worry. I'm fine, er- i-it was more of a surprise than anything else." And a little belated, as he straightens to meet his rescuer's eyes- "Thank you."
Honestly, Arthur looks like he could have been living here as long as anyone else; there's some rough friction scars along his temple, half an ear missing, the obvious mess of stubble of someone a few days past the five o'clock shadow. But there's a warm relief in his dark brown eyes. "I'm Arthur Lester. I'm, ah- new, obviously."
no subject
"I'm not new, but I'm glad to meet you. Apologies for the circumstances you've arrived in, they clearly didn't take my suggestions to heart when I said a cozy dinner party and a game of charades would be a kinder way to welcome newcomers."
He is not at all serious, of course, but he offers his hand to shake. "I'm the Doctor. My cabin's just over there, you can sit and rest a bit if you like," he gives a nod to just the other side of the lake. He's curious about the scars, of course, but one thing at a time.
no subject
Christ, who knew having his sight back would be so overwhelming on top of everything else. "Thank you, doctor. I should- I can admit that's probably in my best interest."
At the very least, it's a tricky play, saving someone from what could possibly be certain death just to get them to a secondary location. "So- w-where are we, exactly?" His tone is curious, but there's an air of exhaustion to it - the sort of question he's sick of having to wonder about.
no subject
"You can pick a better coat at the cabin if you like, there's quite a few on offer, left behind by those who were here shortly before we arrived. And that's where our story here begins. Not entirely pleasant, I'm afraid. But to answer your question, we've specifically found ourselves in Canada, quite far north."
As he chatters, he leads Arthur carefully around the lake. And they do have to be careful, of the...lake monster. A story for another time!
"If that word means anything to you, which — is a necessary qualifier, as we've many here from other worlds and times." Like himself.
no subject
Most of his attention goes on his own feet - without John, he really does have to look out for himself - but the location makes his head jerk up in surprise.
"Canada? I- y-yes, I'm familiar, I-I'm actually from America, Massachusetts, by- by way of England, obviously." If the Doctor knows Canada surely he'd know the others too. "Other times- what year is it, here?"
A question asked with surprisingly little hesitancy, or irony.
no subject
"The year is 2015 now, though those of us here had started arriving a bit back. I haven't been here as long as some of the other Interlopers, but long enough to be a solid welcoming committee if I do say so myself," he gives a short smile, tugging at his tattered bowtie that he insists on always wearing.
"There's a lot to catch you up on — don't worry, we'll have time to sort out details over a warm drink and some stew when we get inside." Luckily, the cabin is in view up ahead.
no subject
That's... well, that's eighty years from home, and he's not even going to touch how far it must be from England. Too much, all in all, and that makes his brain finally short out for a moment, as he tries to just. Fit it all together. "Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened here?"
no subject
"Nothing good, I'm afraid. We're all in the thick of it together, though, for what it's worth."
Cold comfort for some, perhaps, but something steady to lean on in the Doctor's view.
As they reach the cabin, the Doctor pushes open the door and steps aside, allowing Arthur in first. There's a fire going, at least, immediately to the left where there's also a sofa to rest on. The Doctor nods, "Have a seat. Hungry, thirsty, all of the above?"
no subject
He takes a deep breath, to try and steady himself, and nods tightly. "U-um-- all- all of the above, I think. Is, is there anything you'd like a hand with, in exchange?" As he turns back towards the Doctor, even now taking in everything that he can about the cabin before he meets the man's eyes again. "O-or something I can help with, to- I-I suppose to pay you for it?"
no subject
He doesn't miss the look in the man's eyes, and it seems to be — well, he can understand the emotion there. He'll do whatever he can to at least offer him a sense of safety for now, a respite from what's been a terrible time, long before he got here, he assumes, — if the marks on his body are anything to go by.
He smiles gently, shaking his head. "You, for now, are simply going to sit and rest, eh? That is all I need. Promise."
There's a think flannel blanket draped over the back of the sofa as well, in case Arthur might need that additional warmth. Meanwhile, the Doctor busies himself preparing all of the above. "Tea, tea, tea — ah, you're in luck — stashed a load of rosehip tea recently," he calls to him from the kitchen, getting to work on that brewing.
no subject
"That sounds wonderful, truly." He does pick up the blanket to drape around himself when he moves to sit on the couch, but mostly so he doesn't get blood on anything that can't readily be washed in this weather.
"You said others were here shortly before we arrived - we being the interlopers, presumably." He glances back towards the kitchen. "Why were? What happened to the people here before?"
no subject
He at least has food to share with Arthur, and while the tea brews, he comes towards the other man, offering a small plate of jerky, fresh berries, and some crackers just on the edge of being too stale.
At the question — "That, uh —" His eyes soften, darken a bit. "It was — absolutely tragic. I wasn't among the very first to arrive here from another place, but I've heard of what happened. The first interlopers, they found what I assume were almost all of the original residents dead, their bodies scattered in the frozen ground." There's more to tell, of course, but though the Doctor can easily chatter on extensively, he has the good sense not to pile on an abundance of details all at once. And while he lets that settle, he starts searching in a small closet in the hallway for some bandages.
no subject
Mostly, though, he's just glad it's jerky.
But he sets on the rest of it first, starting with the crackers just to see if he can stomach anything at all. It means he doesn't choke, either, when his mouth goes unexpectedly dry at the answer he gets.
"Jesus." A part of his mind can't help but think of the kingdom in the Dreamlands, decorated with pieces of the victims, and swallowing the mouthful is unexpectedly difficult for a moment. "Do we-" wait no he has to clear his throat before something goes the wrong way. "D-does anyone know what got them?"
Congratulations, Doctor, you have one (1) private investigator on the task.
no subject
At least here, it means there's plenty of supplies for the time being. There's always tomorrow and the days and weeks and months ahead to think about, of course. Resources aren't infinite, but he believes in their collective ingenuity to adapt.
"We do," he's quick to answer, rummaging through the closet, shifting items around to grab what he needs in an armful of bandages and other medicinal supplies, which he rests on the small table for now because the tea ought to be ready. He's a man that's at ease moving around quickly from place to place, an abundance of energy in his limbs even when exhaustion may eventually tug at him. He's always more intentionally focused too, of course, when he has somewhere specific to direct his energy, which in this moment happens to be Arthur Lester.
"— or, we think. Some of us, anyway. The Darkwalker, I believe. You might have heard it when you arrived here, do you recall? A voice speaking to you — you are not part of nature's design," he calls from the kitchen, pouring the tea and bringing the mug over to him now. At last, he'll sit across from Arthur, giving them both a moment to catch up. For the Doctor, at least, he's quietly thrilled by anyone already asking the sorts of questions Arthur is asking. Someone he can bounce theories off of, perhaps? Meanwhile, he grabs the gauze, really having a good look at Arthur, wanting to more thoroughly check for injuries he might have obtained either before or during that little fall.
no subject
Everything about his appearance suggests a man who'd take a concussion as a challenge.
"I... I did, yes." He hadn't thought he'd dreamt it - far too much experience with that side of things - but it was another thing entirely, after so long with a voice literally in his head, to have that independently verified. "I-I didn't realise everyone heard it, that..."
It can't be Kayne. It can't, but- fuck, it could be some other version of him, some other god fucking with this reality, oblivious to the carnage his other self was causing elsewhere. "Has anyone seen him in person? D-does he even have a physical presence, or- or has he only been interacting with people in dreams, through influence rather than direct contact?"
no subject
But perhaps he's wrong. He's been wrong before. He doesn't like ever being wrong, but he can admit when he is.
"None of us have gotten quite close enough to it and lived to tell anything about it. A few of our own have died here from it, and it's — absolutely horrific," he sucks in a breath for a moment, holding that roll of gauze a bit tighter. What they went through, namely, the fear. It's strange to say their deaths objectively weren't violent, not slaughtered and bloodied, but rather twisted and contorted in fear. "Their bodies were — it was though they'd simply died from the worst terror they'd ever experienced in a single instant. And before it took the life from them, it made all of us afraid. And I don't usually — I'm not the fearful sort. It can wield power over our minds. It's done far worse than make us afraid in that regard."
The other man seems...okayish enough physically, but that's little comfort and makes him no less concerned for what Arthur's obviously been through, and he gives a quick nod to him. "What happened to you?"
Before Arthur responds, the Doctor stands up abruptly, snapping his fingers a moment, talking to himself under his breath. "Clothes, clothes, of course. Change of clothes. Keep talking, please —"
no subject
Fuck.
But he's struck out of his concerned reverie by the Doctor's sudden motion again. "Oh, oh that- th-that's not--"
Necessary? Bullshit, he needs clothes regardless. A relevant story? When the Doctor's already seen the scars, he can't deny it sort of is.
So he just sighs. More of a huff.
"I'm a private investigator, from Arkham, Massachusetts, in- in 1934." He makes sure his voice carries for the Doctor, at least. "In the last five months, however, I became... entangled, with a being of a similar existence to the Darkwalker - similiar only in their, er. Existential, otherworldly nature. Our time together was... difficult, to say the least, a-and we, er." He sighs into his tea as he takes a sip. He appreciates the warmth, at least, because right now his mouth tastes like ash. "Well, we got into a lot of shit, frankly. I wasn't lucky enough to get out of all of it in one piece, or... or occasionally even alive."
He frowns, and his voice lowers, more with his melancholy than any attempt to hide it. "This is the first time my death has taken me somewhere else, somewhere - without my friend."
no subject
At least this time, he feels reasonably sure anyone in Arthur's state would appreciate fresh, clean clothes. Where other resources are a bit hit or miss, there is at least plenty of clothing. For now; like everything. From the linen closet, he gathers some trousers, a warm flannel overshirt, listening to Arthur all the while.
Just before he's grabbed socks, he hears occasionally even alive and while it's all interesting, that in particular grabs at him, and he pokes his head swiftly around the corner, eyes narrowing in scrutiny for a moment. He says nothing, disappears behind the corner, pauses a few seconds, then looks at him again. He repeats it only one more time before finally returning to Arthur with a pile of clothing.
"You wouldn't be the first to have arrived here having died before. Quite a few were brought here on the brink of death, literally the last gasp before the end, or right after the end. But as far as I'm aware, you're the only other I've met who's died more than once before." He tugs a little at his bowtie, fidgeting. The only other, he says, offering not much else in the way of explanation. "It is desperately inconvenient."
Dying, that is. He almost adds, isn't it but look he's learning. Sometimes he remembers not to stick his foot in his mouth before he actually does it. It's not that any of the times he's died have actually been pleasant, it's not that at all, it's only that he leans into nonchalance as a first reaction about it, at least as it pertains to him. He's practiced at hiding things, particularly deeper emotions about himself. He also doesn't want to detract from what Arthur's shared about himself, as he's quite interested.
"So not your first go 'round with entities like this — we're all a bit in luck to have your expertise, I'm only sorry this seems to be a repeat of sorts for you. Yours, though, it wasn't — devouring the essence of living people?"
no subject
But despite that, it takes him a moment to build up the nerve to take his clothes off. He hasn't seen himself in... God, months, and a part of him is terrified to, to see just how much he's changed. It's not even that he's been trying not to think about it, just... out of sight, out of mind.
So, he doesn't. Staring doggedly ahead - glancing at the Doctor as he talks, because that's just polite, but only keeping fleeting eye contact - he starts unbuttoning as he talks.
"I'm only familiar with, er- perhaps three of them, in passing, but one of them I've been assured is dead, which is- quite an impressive feat in and of itself." The upper half of his chest isn't any less scarred - bullet wounds are more obvious now, two to the stomach and one in his heart, something raggedly stabbed near his left shoulder, an uneven scar below his right, a human bite-mark just shy of his neck that's taken a chunk with it, healed only just enough that it's no longer bleeding. The man's more scar tissue than organs. "The one I'm most familiar with is the King in Yellow, but he doesn't- devour people, a-at least not in that sense, he's... he drives them mad, corrupts their minds through a moment of weakness. Drives them to kill themselves in their passion, in his name."
But soon the flannel is draped over the scars - he unbuttons the cuffs, so he doesn't have to take his gloves off, and he buttons it up quick and efficiently. "I'm aware of a being that- calls himself Kayne, but I've learned his true name is- is Nyarlathotep." His pronunciation's a little clunky, but it's still correct. "A-and I don't know if he's- he seems to enjoy base cruelty, seeing people suffer, but- physically. Dismembering them, for his own amusement. If the corpses here were intact, it can't have been him."
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While Arthur removes his clothing, the Doctor alternates between looking and not; his mind is always so busy and frantic as it is, but now his thoughts leap so much further ahead, taking in what he shares, putting it up against the things he knows to be true about the universe.
"It sounds strange to say as the Darkwalker's nearly as terrible as they come, but if this Kayne is capable of that, well, so far we have small mercies here," he notes. "I've encountered entities before that could control the minds of others with ease. Get into their heads, turn them against everyone, into puppets." He won't say it out loud, but the one that most immediately occurs to him was one such entity that invaded his own mind years ago.
But he's glanced at Arthur a moment or two, curious about what he's been through and the stories his body tells. More than that, the stories that live beneath. In his mind. Going through that tends to leave other scars, ones less easy to see.
"I have more questions about your time, what you've been through — questions are my specialty. But," he gives a nod in his general direction. "Are you in pain presently? I can help with that if you are."
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But the question makes him pause, midway through sliding a sweater over his head.
"I, er." It's... not a question he often considers. Not one he has the time to. If he can keep moving forward, nothing else matters. It's only because he's asked that he actually takes a moment to consider it.
More than anything, thought, he's... tight. Tense, fresh scars that haven't learned to stretch yet. His hand hurts, the pinky and the bite mark making the veins there sting with particularly fresh clarity, but - he shakes his head, as he pulls the sweater down fully. "N-no, I'm- I'm fine, really. Everything's already healed over."
But it does make him self-consciously aware of the fact he just half-stripped in front of a complete stranger, and his face burns as he picks up the bottom half of his outfit. "Keep talking, I-I'll just-- One moment."
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"Since we've only just met, I'm going to take you at your word and assume that fine of yours is a genuine fine and not one of those middling attempts to redirect when you're actually the opposite of fine. And if you are, in fact, truly the opposite of fine, I can help. It's what I do. Among other things!"
Things ranging from the mundane to the fantastical; from making a fabulous omelette (more's the pity they're lacking eggs here) to time traveling to planet-saving, to bingo night with Lydia and the gals. And all points in between.
"Tell me, though, how does a private investigator from Arkham in 1934 get mixed up in — all of that?"
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"Oh, well, that's-- i-it's a long story."
About five seasons worth."I'm- the office I work from, w-we were renting it from another investigator whose livelihood revolved around dealing with supernatural cases like that. Not that we were aware of it, at the time we were renting. I didn't even realise the bizarre like that truly existed until someone sent a book addressed to him to our office, and it- there was an entity trapped inside the book. Half of the King in Yellow. It- he compelled me to open the book, and trapped himself inside me, i-in my eyes. To try and control me to do his bidding."He snorts, as he finishes buckling his pants. They're a few sizes too big, but so were most clothes thanks to the pit. A belt would fix it, and he fishes his own out of his ruined pants again. "Unfortunately for us all, I'm not that easily pushed around."
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