methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillppl2025-02-05 07:03 pm
singmod) wrote in singillppl2025-02-05 07:03 pm
Entry tags:
February 2025 Test Drive Meme
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
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. 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.
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!
no subject
But it's not the fact that he's been recognized that gives him pause.
It's Jason's emphasis on Gotham, as if it's meant to communicate something other than 'I've seen you before.' The problem was, Bruce's already given this guy a once over and he has no idea who he is. It feels off. So while he is wary, he is not unfriendly. ]
You're right about that.
[ He notes Jason's layers. ]
You seem better prepared for this place than I am. Which way is the town?
no subject
( jason - hesitates for a moment, before unzipping his outermost later to start shrugging the thing off. it's a fur-lined coat, sized for jason, so it shouldn't be that much off from bruce's size.
granted, jason's lost a shitton of muscle weight since he first got here, so he's not as big as he'd once been. but he's not that badly off. )
Town's North East. It's on the smaller side, and you're not gonna find much crap you can use there. Most the buildings're abandoned; the last Bruce Wayne who was around holed up in church. If you're lucky, you might find some of his crap.
( because jason didn't take any of it, and he's sure tim wasn't interested. )
no subject
But here in the middle of this frozen hellscape, he doesn't know what to do with what Jason just told him. It doesn't necessarily surprise him to think there might have been someone who looked like him and used his name here before - Thomas Elliot is a thing that exists. And there are stranger things than learning there are multiples of yourself.
He just never thought he'd have to confront it. Not like this. ]
I'll look into it. [ He takes the coat when it's offered, but doesn't put it on. ] You have me at a disadvantage. I don't think we've been introduced.
no subject
but i'm done letting you shove me away, bruce had said. you're just going to have to deal with me calling you my kid, he'd bitched - in the flattest, most exhausted tone jason'd heard from him in a while. and then he'd gone and fucked off to god knows where. jason knows better than to assume he's dead without a corpse - hell, even with one half the damn time, but it still felt like a gutpunch to find that asshole not lurking around the church anymore.
yet he's returned, with no clue who jason is. and it hurts, in a way jason doesn't ever want to acknowledge. won't where anyone will hear it; he was so close to trashing everything with bruce before he'd shown up here the first time. to saying to hell with it, maintaining a relationship isn't worth all the crap bruce has given him - until b fucked it all up again.
jason can maintain this. being an unknown to bruce makes it significantly easier to pretend he doesn't give a crap about him one way or another. )
It's hard not to run into people, here. Place's small. ( a loose lift of his shoulders, before jason's offering out a hand. ) John Malone.
no subject
[ His name Bruce takes a minute to parse and it isn't one he's overly familiar with. Maybe he's met a John Malone at some country club or some wild rager he pretended to be drunk at. Neither of the faces that come to mind match this stranger's.
But if John Malone knows about Gotham, if he's met someone similar enough that he can recognize Bruce face down in the snow, then it's not too much of a leap to assume this is a coincidence. It's not a leap Bruce will make just yet; he doesn't know this man or if he'd have a motive to lie. But it's something he'll keep tucked away in the back of his mind. ]
It's nice to meet you, John. Thanks for the coat. [ That he still hasn't put on. Instead, he's turning in the direction John indicated the town to be in. ] Guess I better try and find that town before I freeze to death.
no subject
( seriously, don't. jason wouldn't say he has spares on top of spares because it's a lie and no one's got a hoard of crap here, but - he can handle one less layer. and he's got enough complicated shit going on now that he really doesn't want to finagle dealing with an alternate bruce wayne thanking him. it's the shoes he's really going to have to be concerned about anyway: walking around with soaked through socks is much less than ideal, and there's no other means of transportation around these parts. )
Town's called Milton. There's a community hall where most folk gather, especially when the weather gets real crappy. ( as a good starting point, for when bruce starts getting a good feeler of the joint. jason hadn't gone that route; he still refuses to join up with the crowd most the time, but bruce is better at faking his way through social scenarios than he is. )
no subject
Instead, he puts that away back into the dark where it belongs and points in a direction, where he can see the faint wisps of smoke in the distance. ]
Milton's that way?
no subject
( he pops the p intentionally, loud and obnoxious, and shoves his hands down into his pockets. one of them houses jason's second favorite knife, but despite it's presence close to his fingers, he's not reaching for it.
not yet. if he's lucky, he won't even need it. )
's your safest bet. They've got some hand-me-downs laying around they could shove you into. Some boots, if you're lucky. ( jason had the advantage of arriving in his gear, so his boots are well-insulated, built to handle damn-near everything. dress shoes? sound like a real shit way to end up out here.
maybe he should check out the church. snag Other Bruce's spares if he has them. not for this guy, for himself. boots only last so long. )
You're probably gonna want one of these, too.
( one hand leaves a pocket, reaching under the back of his jacket to his belt to pull out - yet another knife. knives are always good, especially out here. the one he tosses to bruce is on the smaller side - something close to a blackfoot, with parachute cord wrapped around the hilt. he can handle one less knife, too. and while bruce is plenty resourceful, he dislikes the thought of leaving him to figure his shit out on own. hell if he knows why. he shouldn't, considering all the times bruce has left jason to figure his crap out alone. )
no subject
But he doesn't say thank you. ]
Is there somewhere in particular I should look?
[ He gives John Malone a once over again. Another attempt to place him somewhere in his memory. Another attempt failed. The only thing he could say, was that his dark hair and blue eyes made him think about Dick. Made him miss Dick in a way that he hadn't in some time. It's the eyes mostly and he felt foolish for noticing. For linking the two when he couldn't even say for certainty that John Malone was an alias. It certainly sounded like one, but Bruce couldn't prove it.
There was nothing to link them, except their broad similarities. Bruce needed to let it go. ]
no subject
You'll figure it out.
( jason's given him plenty of information already; any more and it'll look really out of character for him. there's only a few people around that he's bothered to socialize with at all, and most of them don't even have a name for him yet. so this? this is plenty. jason turns around on his heels, and plants a boot firmly in the snow - heading back in the direction he'd originally come from. if he looks a little disappointed, that's no one's business. )
See you around, old man.