February 2025 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

FEBRUARY 2025 TDM

PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A 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 — and the current inhabitants, their fellow survivors.

PROMPT TWO — WINTER'S BITE: Tales of superstition from the Northern Territories appear to come to light in the form of fearsome creatures made of ice and bone.

PROMPT THREE — FROZEN HEARTS: A strange, new affliction causes Interlopers to find themselves figuratively and literally turning to ice, and there's only one way of saving them.

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

WHEN: Start of the 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.

These are the words of the Darkwalker, you’ll soon come to find.

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. This place has been ransacked, abandoned long ago. 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.

The daylight is thin. Hours are few. It will get dark soon.

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. You’ll find one soon enough. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused. 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 see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire. Not just one, but several. Civilization...?

Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights: 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.

Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a school-house of sorts, or some kind of community hall. Perhaps both. 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. Others may look as if they could faint from the cold at any second.

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. He smiles warmly, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.

“They come again. I had thought we may not see more of you.” 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. You are not the only one, the lights are changing things. Come. Mother Nature has not been kind to you, but there are plenty here to help.”

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 laden with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers.

There are canisters with hot herbal teas, mostly. But some coffee can be found. There’s also soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus some grilled fish. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast for those who have battled the cold to come here.

Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks — aided by a handful of others in the Hall. Your fellow survivors, but those who have been here for some time now. 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 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, but gesture to your fellow survivors. They will have better answers than him.

WINTER'S BITE

WHEN: The Month of February.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural beings; magical beings; potential cold injuries; potential cuts/bleeding

Amongst the original inhabitants to the Northern Territories, superstition and folk tales were much more prominent — stemming from a mix of superstitions that settlers brought with them to the area and those beliefs of people native to Northern Territories. Some are familiar to Interlopers, others may be less so.

Much of this is now lost, with the population of Milton dead or gone, but some writings can be found in the town. Some wrote of their superstitions in regards to the changing weather and wildlife in personal journals in the lead up to what is known as The Flare, which may still be found in the empty homes uninhabited by Interlopers. Some note feeling as if 'the souls of the animals are angered somehow' or that the changes to the Aurora may be as if 'the afterlife comes too close to the world'.

Maybe they had a point, maybe they were on to something. It’s hard to really say for sure.

Whether it’s magic, some supernatural cause, or something caused by the Aurora, there’s a strange shifting in snow that blankets the Northern Territories. Throughout the month, angry chittering and clacking — like glass or bones — can be heard out in the wilds. Out of the corner of one’s eye, they may see the snow move of its own accord — with confronting it leading to nothing, and stillness.

For a time.

Until whatever it is finally strikes.

Out from the snow, spectral creatures comprised of ice and animal bone spring forwards — jittering and clunky in their movements. Long bodies that twist and dance in the air, all sharp teeth and even sharper ice. Is it a kind of animal? Or spirit? Some mix of both? An angered spirit of nature or some long dead animal? It’s hard to tell for sure.

Despite their clunky movements, their bodies rolling and jaws chattering, these strange spectral creatures are fast and they’ll strike hard — looking to take a chunk out of the unsuspecting and unprepared Interlopers. Even just brushing against one of these strange creatures can lead to some nasty lacerations if they knock themselves hard enough against you. What’s maybe worse than the lacerations themselves is the wounds will burn with their chill, colder than anything you’ve ever felt.

But being made out of bone and ice means they are also just that. Blunt force may just be enough to end up shattering the bodies of these creatures, sending their remains flying. Be careful, though. Those shards are still just as sharp and will become flying projectiles which could cause further injury to Interlopers.

Alternatively, a way to battle back these ice creatures would be through the use of flame. Fire, torches, Interlopers with the Lightbringer Feat would prove vital in getting rid of these creatures long enough to get to safety.

Fleeing is also an option. The creatures will attempt to chase for a time, but will soon give up and end up returning to the snow once more.

FROZEN HEARTS

WHEN: The Month of February, into March.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural ailments; body horror; characters turning to ice; potential character death.

The cold is a persistent thing in the Northern Territories. Even during the summer months, it doesn’t seem to get warm all that much. But the winter is a different kind of beast, and the cold seems to sink into your very bones.

It starts with a kind of cold that you find it hard to get warm, no matter how long you spend by the fire. In time, it feels like that cold has started freezing your body up: your joints feel stiff and sore. Moving around is a chore, even for the simplest of tasks like walking or sitting down. In time, it gets into the smaller joints: fine motor skills become tricky. You drop things, fail to grip on to items, struggle to close your hands into fists. Even talking can be a bit of a struggle, like you’re slowly getting lockjaw.

With that, it’s not surprising that your mood will dip. Sour moods, and even icy manners aren't out of the ordinary. It’s easy to be miserable when you’re so damn cold and you’re struggling to move and speak. It is so easy to find yourself with lowered spirits, to be irritable and closed off from your fellow Interlopers.

It feels as if nothing might warm you, physically or emotionally.

You find yourself being cold towards others, even those you care about most, your closest companions in this world. You may snap at them, or continually brush them off. You find yourself with little patience for them, and are often unmoved by their attempts to bring you some good cheer.

And certainly, what isn’t out of the ordinary is the strange affliction that plagues your skin. It isn’t frostbite, that you know of. Your skin doesn’t turn red, then white then black. No, it turns blue, frosted with white. Your skin looks less like skin and more like stone….. Or, rather, ice.

It starts in the fingers and toes, and will slowly work its way up your limbs, working its way towards your center. Even your hair may start to freeze. As it progresses, you find it harder to move. In enough time, you may find yourself completely frozen on the spot, and in time, unable to even speak as the ice slowly encloses around you.

If something isn’t done quickly enough, you may find yourself completely turning to ice and being trapped as nothing more than a statue.

Hope isn’t lost, though. They say in stories there’s such things that might save some terrible affliction such as this: An act of true love.

This cold isn’t beaten back by flames, but a different kind of warmth.

But what is true love?

It might just be enough to reverse the effects and undo this terrible affliction before it’s too late, to let the ice slowly melt back again and restore you to what you once were.

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.

WINTER'S BITE

1. Digging in the snow where the creatures have returned will prove fruitless, Interlopers will not even find bones.

2. The creatures can spring on Interlopers in groups of up to three.

FROZEN HEARTS

1. The notion of true love is open to interpretation. Platonic love, familial love, romantic love could be deemed as acts of true love. Perhaps even the genuine compassion of a fellow Interloper could be seen as true love.

2. An act of showing true love is very flexible! It could be a kiss, a hug, shedding tears for the afflicted, some desperate attempt of helping the afflicted from freezing. Players are encouraged to play around with what this might entail!

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

Eddie Munson | Stranger Things

[satanicpanics]

🦇 Methuselah’s Feast

A.

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

Ah, there it is. Awfully familiar words that Eddie recognizes he’s heard before. He’s experienced every step of this song and dance before, actually, and he heaves a deep sigh as he awakens to the cold, damp cabin, harboring the same aches and pains as when he’d disappeared from Milton months back. At least he isn’t bleeding out onto the floor the time, but he is without his jacket.

Swearing, he forces himself to his feet and shuffles over to peek into the closet in hopes of finding something, but this cabin has been long since ransacked. There aren’t even any sheets left on the bed. That’s fine, he tells himself. This time, he knows the way back to Milton, and he knows it isn’t far.

So that’s what he does. Unprotected for the elements, he trudges his way through the snow, and it’s not a fun walk. Eddie has never been particularly light on his feet to begin with, and he’s shivering so intensely, it feels like his teeth might rattle out of his skull, but he makes it. He waves away Methuselah’s welcome speech—again, he’s heard it before, and he barrels into the warmth of the community hall. He makes a beeline for the familiar leather jacket laid out on a table, pulls it on, then throws his arms out, a grin on his face. ]

A bit of a belated encore, I know, but uh…who’s keeping track? What did I miss?

B.

[ Cold and aching though he may be, Eddie never stumbles far from being Eddie. He forces himself though two bowls of Methuselah’s stew, though he eyes the old man with a glare of mistrust as he does. When he’s through, he makes his rounds to the different tables, inviting himself to sit, and asking: ]

Hey, so….I was wondering if you’d seen a guitar around here. Electric. Red and black, kind of the most beautiful object to ever grace this earthly realm?


🦇 Winter’s Bite

[ There’s little time to settle back in before the Northern Territories are back to their old tricks, and Eddie is quick to recall that the cold isn’t the only reason this place is absolute misery. There’s always something to be concerned about, and the flavor for this month seems to be…skeletal ice dogs.

It turns out that when you disappear for half a year, people will claim your stolen shit as their own stolen shit. Eddie is out and about, doing his fair share of plundering and pilfering what little may be left in the empty cabins, when something crawls out of the snow and ice, angry and snarling and bounding right for Eddie. ]

Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit—

[ He scrambles backward, practically tripping over his own feet, and slowly reaches for a chunk of dead wood near his foot. ]

Hey! Hey. Nice doggie, right…? Nice…Go fetch!

[ He hurls the stick just over the creature’s head, and while its icy gaze follows the object’s trajectory, it doesn’t move to fetch. It merely stares at Eddie for a brief, chilling moment, and then continues advancing. ]

Shit—Come on!


🦇 Wildcard

[ Surprise me with something or hit me up at muttonchops or poultrylegs on discord! Hoping to return to u all this app round… ]

winter's bite.

[afterdrop]

Dog breath!

[The shout comes from the left, somewhere off past Eddie's shoulder where the cabin's shadow stretches across the snow. Something in the darkness glints - moonlight catching metal, perhaps, or the shine of a glowing eye. Then, an awful noise, like a rasping wail of pain. Live bait, maybe? The culprit finally comes into view, the poor creature dangling from one hand, and-

It's a dog's squeaky toy, held by a gangly teenager. Some kind of rubber chicken, worse for the wear. He holds it up and gives it another squeeze, trying to shift the creature's attention to him. And at least for a moment, it works.

Good old Gladys and her dead chihuahuas, coming in clutch.]

Go on, [he hisses at Eddie, more confident than he feels.] Get out of here.

[satanicpanics]

[ Who are you callin’ dog breath?, he almost shouts back. Just because shouting always helps when your anxiety levels have shot high as the moon—right? But the wailing of some poor, innocent creature stops the words in his throat. That sounds bad. That sounds very bad. That could be him next if this thing sinks its teeth into him, and—

He nearly cries when he sees it’s just a dog’s toy. One less thing to worry about, at least, but now there’s two of them wrapped up in the nonsense with this creature now.

Now, Eddie could run. Eddie should run. But he doesn’t. ]

What—? Dude, you’re not gonna fend that thing off with a squeaky toy! Jeeeesus Christ--

[ But the squeaky toy does have its attention, and Eddie nervously takes a step back as the creature lets out a low growl. ]

methusalah B

[brushoff]

[ Dorian is big grumpy. He's stuck in some new place? In the cold? With no electricity? And no hot water? Why does the universe hate him. He knew the universe hated him but again, seriously, why does the universe hate him.

So he's grumpily eating his stew, freezing through his Versace, not bothering to hide the fact that he's doing a big ol'pout at the moment. And then this teenager (ew) approaches him and asks about an electric guitar?

Alright, priorities, sure. ]

Alas, I'm a new arrival. What I've seen is snow, ice, snow, frozen limbs, and oooh, one more thing, more snow.

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie might be able to sense how grumpy Dorian is, which is why he becomes his chosen target. He grins like a Cheshire Cat, like it’s not below freezing outside, like they haven’t just been dropped into a snowy wasteland with no hope of salvation. And don’t get it twisted—he doesn’t like being here either, but he’s elated to see familiar faces again, and no longer bleeding out in the Upside Down is a plus. ]

Uh huh. Have you seen any snow, though?

[ His eyes widen with mock innocence, only for the grin to makes its return seconds later. ]

Yeah, well…I hate to tell you this, but you might wanna get used to that pretty quick, man. Because, uh…the snow isn’t really going anywhere. I was here awhile back. It never really melts.

methuselah's feast | a

[burying]

[ It feels weird having one of these feasts for the first time in so long. The last time people ended up coming here was... what, August? Months of nothing and then the old guy turns up, explaining more people, more Interlopers are coming. Kieren doesn't understand how Methuselah knows, but he doesn't seem to ever be wrong. It's... weird.

But Kieren'll still get stuck in. The Hall needs to be readied, and when things are in full swing, there's always need for an extra pair of hands to fetch things. He's fetching more fuel for the fire, dumping wood down ready to be thrown in when the voice makes him freeze. Kieren straightens, eyes wide — wondering if he's hearing things.

It wouldn't be the first time.

But there's a familiar face in amongst the throng of people huddled within the walls of the Community Hall, arms outstretched. Kieren jumps to it, gently pushing his way through a few people stood staring at the display. Holy shit. ]

Eddie—?!

[satanicpanics]

Holy shit. Kieren!

[ Somewhere behind that broad grin, there’s a look of immense relief. Because sure, Eddie is the one who has been missing for months, but it's not as if he had time to dwell on it. For all he knows, he's only been gone for hours, and he hasn’t had to miss Kieren at all, but still knows that when he’d left, Kieren hadn’t been in a great spot. Seeing his best friend here and in one piece is a comfort.

Eddie doesn’t miss a beat. Cold though he may be, and knowing full well that Kieren lacks any body heat, he still steps forward to pull Kieren into a tight hug. ]

Hey, man. How long was I out?

🦇 Winter’s Bite

[consistentpatterns]

[One minute she’d been diving into the lake after Steve and the next she’d been here. Wherever here is. Soaking wet and freezing cold. And surrounded by more snow than she’s ever seen in Hawkins. She’d found a shotgun lying next to her (hers, she’s pretty sure, which is… weird, but maybe not as weird as the rest of what’s happening), and ammo. So at least she’s armed.

Nancy doesn’t expect to find a familiar face here. Until the moment she hears the sound of a familiar voice, panicked and fearful, along with the sound of something snarling. Shit! And she takes off, shotgun in hand.

The moment she’s in range she’s aiming her gun.]

Hey! Leave him alone!

[And she fires, blasting into the side of the… dog made out of bone and ice. Okay. She’s going to have some questions later. A LOT of questions, probably. But for now they’ve got to get out of there.]

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie has been here before, and for most of that time, he had been here alone. Steve and Max had cycled through, but both had disappeared just as quickly, and not knowing where they’d gone had torn Eddie apart. He’d spent months looking for them with no avail.

And now there’s yet another familiar face before him, and—Eddie doesn’t have time to dwell on how Nancy Wheeler is here or when she may disappear again. ]

W-Wheeler—? Shit! Watch where you’re aiming! Jesus Christ!

[ He is nowhere in the path of her blast, but the sound is enough to freak him out, and coupled with the way shards of the creature’s body go flying like any projectiles? He’s a little on edge. He scrambles backwards, away from the creature, but something makes hm pause. It’s just ice. That’s all the creature is. It’s just ice. ]

Hey! Wheeler! I’ve—I’ve got an idea. Keep it busy for like, five seconds? Ten at most!

winter's bite

[pythianwoman]

[Zoey is out on one of her usual sweeps of the area, gathering supplies and keeping an eye on things when she hears swearing. And the sound of snarling. As always in this place, that can’t mean ANYTHING, good.

Well FUCK.

There’s fire gathering around her fists as she runs, looping around a cabin until she can see what the hell is going on. She clocks two things immediately. One, Eddie’s back (seeing a familiar face is always a surprise, in places like this. She can only hope he’s the same one she’d met before). And two, he’s being hunted by a creature made out of ice, and bone. And it is INTENSE on getting a piece of him.

So she plants herself between the two of them and blasts it with a plume of fire from her hands. Hopefully it being at least partially made out of ice will mean that it’s not a fan of heat and flames.

If they’re lucky, anyway.]

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie recognizes Zoey; all his memories of this place are perfectly intact, but he still yelps and stumbles backwards, startled by the plume of flame that comes shooting from her hands.

But it works. The creature cringes away with a growl, and it seems to shrink in size almost immediately, as if melting away. ]

Oh, shit—that…

[ He clutches his chest and tries to catch his breath

He forgot he can do that too, but he never put the effort into bettering it. Before he left, he’d been using himself as a human lighter more than anything else. ]

You got good at that, huh?

🦇 Methuselah’s Feast (B)

[clothed]

[ she remembers him. he taught her about lighters and cigarettes, and sansa asked after his friends — then she never saw him again, and she had wondered if he found his people, or if he'd fallen into some kind of misfortune. one good ending, one bad ending; the likelihood of both having happened seemed low.

sansa's gotten her bearings more firmly since then, at least, and there is an openness to her now that she didn't have when they first met. ]

You're returned, [ she remarks first before she remembers her manners. ] Forgive me, I just thought perhaps— That maybe you've found—

I don't know what an electric guitar is.

[satanicpanics]

Well, you know, I figured you all missed me so much, I’d just grace you all with my presence for a second time.

[ Truthfully, he had no choice in the matter, and his wide grin is enough to signify that he is very much joking. He’s apparently been gone for several months, but time had moved strangel for him, and it feels as if none has passed at all. For him, his last conversation with Sansa doesn’t feel so far away. ]

Okay, so…

[ He drums his fingers against the table, looking thoughtful. ]

You know what a lute is, right? A guitar is pretty similar. Six strings, but the neck is longer and the body isn’t as rounded. You put an electric current through that, and you've got...basically pure magic. It's pretty incredible.

HANNAAAAAH Methuselah B

[nicehobbit]

[ By now, Frodo is curled up as tight as he can while resting a bowl of stew on his lap, hoping that cradling it with his whole body will help warm him up quicker. Each mouthful of stew doesn't do nearly as much as he hoped, and he's truly longing for a warm bath now. Which he's longed for many times on the road since Lothlorien.

He's so focused on that thought that he doesn't realise someone has joined him and is talking to him for a second or two. When he realises it, he starts a little more upright, blinking in confusion at Eddie. ]

Sorry. What did you say? What object?

TOSS.....i'm so sorry about him

[satanicpanics]

[ Warm baths and showers are a bit uncommon to come by here, but they’re not impossible. Before he’d disappeared (and where did he disappear to? The answer still eludes him), Eddie had toyed with the idea of using his Aurora-given fire ability to make that happen. He may need to revisit the idea if he continues to the ache badly as he does.

From afar, he thinks Frodo a child, but when he slides in across from him, his grin only fades and his eyes widen. He doesn’t mean to stare; he’s experienced enough of that in his life to know it’s not the most comfortable feeling, but he’s the biggest Tolkien nerd this side of Indiana, and he knows a Hobbit when he sees one.

Holy shit. ]

What?

[ He mumbles, clearly in a daze, but he finally manages to pull his jaw off the ground and snap himself out of it. Be cool, Munson. ]

Oh—shit, sorry—uh…stringed instrument. Long neck, six strings.

[makebread]

[ Senshi is actually the last of the newcomers to eat. He has seen the faces of people like him; scared and cold and hurt and hungry. Worst of all, many of the faces were young, too young. He had to help, no matter what. When he felt his knees wooble, Senshi knows he have to stop and eat something himself.

The tall-man’s soup is nourishing and flavorful, and Senshi spoon some more gratefully. When a younger tall-man - Senshi can never tell their ages - approach him asking for an instrument, Senshi wipes his lips with the back of his hand. ]

Can’t say I have.

[ Although a word sounds strange. ]

Electric? What’s that?

[satanicpanics]

Uh, well…huh.

[ Eddie pauses, tilting his head thoughtfully. He’s never actually had to explain electricity to anyone before. It’s an everyday luxury for him back home; he need only flip a switch and behold the glory of beautiful, fluorescent lighting, or turn the key in his car and be met with Iron Maiden at full volume. Electricity does exist in the homes here in Milton as well, but only when the Aurora is in full swing.

But Eddie didn’t do particularly well in school, so he’s just going to have to do his best. ]

Alright, so…lightning, right? That’s like, a giant spark of electricity. Like how your hair stands on end when there’s a ton of it in the area. Well, where I come from, they found a way to capture that. So you’ve got this guitar, you plug it in, and suddenly it’s got…this current running through it. Just like lightning, only it won’t kill you…probably. Not often, at least.

Feast B

[guidemyway]

[Did Ruby miss Eddie? Sure. Was she about to show it when he was saying something so blatantly wrong?

No!

She gives him a sideways look.]

Nu-uh. It's maybe the second most beautiful thing to ever show up here. My Crescent Rose is definitely number one.

No ifs, ands, or buts.

[And then a snort.

Okay. Maybe a butt.

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie’s eyes narrow. He leans against his hand and stares Ruby down for a moment, like he expects her to change her mind…she’s seen that beautiful guitar of his, after all.

But of course, that doesn’t happen. They’re both too stubborn to relent. ]

Well, we can’t all be the arbiter of good taste, now can we?

[ He snorts and cracks a grin. ]

So how much did you miss me?

methman feast B: unleash the DND

[ployboy]

[Tim is back. He'd snuck his food and hounded Jack Shaw the first time in the Center, and then when his bones had thawed he had left the warmth of the welcome party. It's closer to evening now (right? the neverending day is as maddening as the neverending night) and Tim now has his backpack along for the hunt.

Big Hair is also hunting for something, and it doesn't take long before they're face to face.

Which is great, because as Tim is processing the request, sadly shaking his head, and shrugging the pack off his shoulders, he swears he's goingtodie (he's going to be sick, and it sucks).] I haven't found an electric one, no, sorry, but... [His own voice sounds hollow with how shallow it is and Tim has to blink to reset.

With a lax kind of breezy air, with some cautious anticipation, Tim arranges the goods on the table: the sets of dice in their tacky flannel baggies, the instructional character sheets, the screen, the boards, the sacred books themselves

and for a split second he kinda feels like a big deal. Just- minus the flourish due to heaviness in his limbs. Still- not bad, if he says so himself.]

But how's this for some eye candy?

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie is fairly certain that he owned the only electric guitar in all of Milton. If someone in the town owned one previously (which is very likely, given the existence of the battered amp that Eddie performed all his late-night Aurora concerts with), it’s long gone now, used for firewood, probably. It’s a thought that makes him clench his teeth, because that means his own beautiful baby could have very well gone the same way. ]

Well, shit.

[ He’s about to get up and move onto his next victim, but Tim implies that there’s more, and Eddie gives him a moment to lay out…the most beautiful array of items he’s seen in a long time. Almost reverently, mumbles: ]

A sight for my sore eyes, that’s for sure. Fifth edition?

[ His eyes are wide. Tim is playing four editions ahead of anything Eddie knows ignoring that canon has them playing an inaccurate amalgamation of editions. Anything could be in those guides…Eddie knows the game like the back of his hand, but he's walking into brand new territory, and that's wildly exciting. ]

May I?

[ He begins to walk his fingers slowly toward the books and boards and character sheets, but he fixes Tim with enormous eyes and waits for permission. ]

methuselah's feast - A

[bigbaddy]

[ Maybe you didn't miss all that much, Eddie. Because the community hall still very much looks the same, and the man that turns around when he hears that voice-- well, he looks very much the same too.

All the way up to the way he's giving you a very familiar judgmental look. Then again, maybe Bigby's face is just kind of permanently stuck in that gruff expression. ]

Shit, kid, you're acting like you didn't straight up vanish off the face of the world.

[ Then again, that does kind of sound like Eddie, huh. Being bombastic even after all of that. ]

[satanicpanics]

Oh, shit. Sorry about that. Let me just react accordingly—

[ He grins like the little shit he is. Bigby has always struck him as a decent guy, but he still has cop energy, and that tends to bring out the court jester in Eddie.

Truth be told, Eddie would be losing his complete shit if it actually felt like he’d left. He knows he did, and he knows he was gone for some time, but he also can’t dig any new memories of home out of the depths of his brain. For all he knows, he just existed in cold storage for five months and they’ve finally deigned to unthaw him. It’s hard to freak out when you…kind of have nothing to freak out about. That in and of itself is a strange feeling for him.

So all he can really do is fake it for a laugh. He clasps his hands to his chest, widens his already-enormous eyes, and proceeds with the dramatics. ]

Shit! Jesus Christ! Where am I? What year is it? Is Ozzy back in Black Sabbath yet?

Feast A

[solitarysoul]

[Levi often helps out with the feast, but its rare to see someone return. So far its just been different versions of them, so he expects that from Eddie. But he's not sure..]

E-eddie?

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie knows that all too well. He’s lost a lot of people from this place, and not one of them has yet to return. Seems like he’s something of an exception, returning with memories intact.

He checks over the pins and patches on his jacket to be certain they’re all in good order, all still accounted for, and beams. ]

The one and only.