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

Feldspar | Outer Wilds

[getfeldsparred]

[OOC: Feldspar is one big walking spoiler for Outer Wilds, an amazing little indie game released in 2019. If you have any intention of playing Outer Wilds and wish not to be spoiled (which I highly recommend), feel free to skip out on tagging with them! I promise I won't be mad. ::D]

🚀1. Methuselah's Feast

a. Arrival

Ooh, it's cold. It seems kind of the opposite of how they should be feeling right now, right? Like illogically cold to have survived the sun exploding.

Feldspar finds themself lying sprawled on the snow, tape-mended spacesuit doing nothing to spare them from the sudden and very sharp chill. Their oxygen tank hisses and clicks as they hear the metal freeze, and their HUD sizzles and pops and then promptly dies, the screen fading once and for all. Ah well. They were surprised it lasted this long anyway, considering the viciousness of the last crash.

They don't think they've crashed here. Maybe more...appeared, like in a quantum state. Neither here nor there, but definitely existing at this point of time because, stars, it's really, really cold!

They gather up their scattered supplies - can of marshmallows, harmonica, ice pick, and start walking towards the smoke of a fire in the distance. Maybe there's a nice campfire to warm their Hearthian bones.

b. The Feast

Even though there's plenty of oxygen to go around and it's plenty warm inside the hall, Feldspar doesn't remove their helmet once indoors. It became evident to them pretty quickly that they're on an alien planet, currently surrounded by two-eyed, fur-headed extraterrestrials, and that's reason enough to not take off their space suit. They can hide their own otherness for the most part, so long as no one looks too closely at their hands.

Pretty neat though, that they can understand their language. Must have something to do with the universe.

They don't touch the food either, wary for a lot of reasons, mostly to do with eating only tinned food and centipedes for the past...however many years it had been and not wanting to get sick. Instead they sit in the corner and play their harmonica, which by all means shouldn't work with the helmet still in place, but somehow does.

🚀 2. Winter's Bite

Feldspar can be heard laughing while being chased through the snow. Still very much wearing their space suit, they cackle joyfully as they dodge and weave through the trees, being closely followed by one of the skeletal creatures.

"Come on, beasties! Come and get me!" They cackle breathlessly, hopping over logs and stones, having the absolute time of their life. Their bright-red scarf flutters about behind them as they swing on tree limbs and bound across shallow streams. "Yaaahoooo!"

This is clearly a very sane person.

🚀3. Wild Card

When not being very normal in town or exploring every inch of the place they can, cliffs and caverns and trees included, Feldspar can be found by a fire. Inside the community hall, outside at the edge of the town, in one of the abandoned buildings - wherever there's a fire there's Feldspar, still in their space suit, still playing their harmonica.

If someone happens by they wave to them with their gloved hand (is that three fingers?) and point to a large can of marshmallows.

"Hey, pull up a log and have a mallow. Plenty to go around."

2

[brushoff]

Using himself as bait in an aggressively stupid decision is Dorian's playbook. But as he sees Feldspar laugh, running through the snow and the woods, letting that creature chase him, Dorian very quickly realizes how absolutely insane that play of his looks. Maybe he should do something different next time.

Still, it's bad form if someone dies and you don't really do anything about it (there would be questions. Gross.) So he lets out a small sigh, annoyed that he's going to play the hero, before chasing after Feldspar. Does he know how to stop this thing? No. But he's got a few rocks that he can at least lob at the thing so he can pretend that he's actually been useful.

Guess what, Feldspar! You're (sort of) getting help! Or at least, you've got someone chasing the creature that's chasing you.

[getfeldsparred]

Death? Never heard of it!

Well, that’s not strictly true. They’ve done so many dumb things they’re surprised that a supernova was the thing that did them in, not all the various crashes and explosions and cyclones and anglerfish…various calamities in the pursuit of the unknown, that sort of thing. But if those things didn’t kill them then there’s clearly no reason to play it safe! Especially now!

They’re still spritely for being a couple decades past their hatchling days, and as they zip up a short cliff they catch sight of someone else running after the creature. They scramble to the top and pause for about two seconds to shout down to them.

“I’ve got this under control!”

Whoops, gotta keep running, that thing’s getting close enough to chomp at their blue ass.

[brushoff]

"You obviously do not!" Dorian yells back. He skids to a stop, kicking snow up and cursing the fact that his beloved Louboutin boots are probably fucking ruined now. But fine. Here he is. He's being a hero for some stupid reason.

Urrrrrgh.

Squinting at the mass of bones and glass, Dorian hurls a rock in it's general direction. It lands near the creature, but not on it. Taking another rock, Dorian hurls it at the creature. This time, it hits, splintering the glass and bone into shards. However, one rock is not enough: with a snarl, the beast turns towards Dorian and starts to chase him.

Uh. Whoops.

Time to run like hell.

[getfeldsparred]

Parts of the creature splinter off and rain down on Feldspar like pieces of a shattered window. They cross their arms over their chest and crouch as the glass pings off the oxygen tanks and pierce through the EVA suit to embed into their back. Not as much damage as there could be though, and now there are other concerns, like the dummy who decided to ‘save’ them.

And they were having a great time!

Feldspar catches their breath and then leaps down the cliff and runs after the creature and their new best friend. They have to be their new best friend, right? They’re just as nuts as Feldspar is.

“Hey! Hey, you! I was leading it to a ravine! Take a sharp right and head up the hill!”

[brushoff]

Sharp right and head up the hill. Right, Dorian can do that. That's easy enough. He instantly makes that turn and continues to book it, scrambling up the hill as quickly as his legs can take him. Which admittedly, isn't that quickly compared to others, and the creature keeps gaining on him.

"How close is the ravine?" he yells, hoping the answer is 'very close.'

[getfeldsparred]

Feldspar also makes that sharp right, running alongside the path that the creature and the silly alien are now running.

“15 meters ahead!”

Give or take a few meters, but Feldspar’s got a pilot’s sense of space and distance. And why yes, aliens from a completely different universe use the metric system.

“Run as fast as you can, and then dive off to the side at the edge!”

[brushoff]

Dorian keeps running. It's only when he thinks he's hit fifteen meters that he dives to the side.

And okay. He's a bit short. But thankfully, he's close enough that the creature doesn't stop, skidding off the edge, into the ravine, shattering into pieces with a loud crash.

Thank fuck.

Now, don't mind Dorian as he flops against the ground, taking deep breaths as he tries to get his blood pressure back to something close to normal.

[getfeldsparred]

Feldspar skids to a stop at the lip of the ravine, watching the aftermath of the creature's impact on all the rocks and ice below. Rough. Serves it right for trying to chase them though.

"Well, that was fun," they declare, no hint of sarcasm or insincerity. They reach behind their back and yank a particularly jagged piece of icy-glass out of their back, grimacing as it burns like ice has no business burning.

"You okay down there?"

3

[thedreamer]

A fire, an unknown-to-him someone in a space suit, waving a three-fingered hand — this all seems...well, if it not entirely expected, at least not unusual (and quite honestly, thrilling) to an also very perfectly normal someone wandering about at the edge of town. Presently, he's doing a very normal thing trying to study and track the creatures made of ice and bone. Who runs away except at the very last minute?

As though they'd already skipped past pleasantries and were in the middle of a conversation, the Doctor simply waves back and starts in as he comes closer, "Now don't get me wrong, a perfectly roasted marshmallow is delightful enough to stand on its own merits, but combine it with soft, barely melted chocolate and now you've got a masterpiece." But now he's just reminded himself they don't have chocolate readily available and there was probably no point in suggesting something impossible to indulge in now. Wonderful! Now he's unintentionally disappointed himself, and has to pivot.

"— an aspirational little treat to be enjoyed on a day that is quite obviously not today, but will be today eventually. As all days are. In the meantime, hello, I'm the Doctor," he offers with a smile and a little wave of his own. "It's good you're here." Well, it's good that anyone is anywhere, he reasons. Might as well be here.

[getfeldsparred]

Feldspar finds themself leaning forward as their potential camping buddy starts going on and on, pleasant though circling 'round and 'round, and referencing things that they have to try and figure out through context clues. Not that they mind it in the least; they sound like a friend of theirs, and just thinking about them means that Hornfels is alive and well in some way.

"Feldspar," they answer, holding out a very nice marshmallow-roasting stick. "Sorry I got your hopes up. These marshmallows are good on their own, provided you don't char 'em like a lunatic."

Their companion can't see the grin underneath the helmet, but they're sure that their tone of voice conveyed the right amount of friendliness and teasing. "It's real good to be here, even if I don't know where 'here' is. Good to just exist for a while."

[thedreamer]

"Feldspar! Of course you would be." By the Doctor's logic, they would be whatever name was given.

"But don't insult me, everyone knows we're aiming for a deep golden amber color on the outside — touch of crunch, and the interior has to be incredibly soft, almost silken. All in the timing and technique. I know the rules." There's a cheeky smirk on his face, though, as he accepts the stick, and banters back with his own teasing. By someone's measure, perhaps — though certainly not his own — with everything going on recently, they might be better served staying in a well-fortified building to have a friendly chat like this, but that would mean being cautious, and that's an unfamiliar concept.

"Here is — a version of Earth, very north," he explains, getting comfortable near him. "Where were you existing before this?"

[getfeldsparred]

Earth. That’s kind of funny - Earth, Timber Hearth. It even looks sorta the same, with its too-tall trees and winding creeks and streams. There are probably deep caves here too, and maybe geysers or springs.

“Me? In a tiny solar system with six planets and a big, yellow sun. This place looks like home though, maybe a little on the chillier side, but still. Kinda funny.”

It’d be a little cruel actually, to be placed somewhere that looks enough like home to fool someone on first glance, but Feldspar doesn’t believe the universe has any strong feelings one way or another. It’s just the universe - the universe is, and we are.

“You? This your home planet, or are you visiting too?”

[thedreamer]

"No, no, far from it." About that. "I'm just passing through here. Well, everywhere. I'm a traveler." Forced exiles and this little detour aside, he doesn't make a habit of staying anywhere for long.

"But I am fond of Earth, most versions of it. And this place —" He waves a free hand momentarily. "A little rough around the edges, things to be improved upon, copious notes for the editor in charge, but there's a lot of good, too. Always is." Mostly. Even if some days that's a bit harder to find than others, wherever they may be.

"And you were traveling?" With a little nod to their helmet, their whole space suit, of which he's a big fan. As he speaks, the Doctor edges his marshmallow closer to the fire.

[getfeldsparred]

They’re a little surprised at how one word can make them feel so much. Traveler. It conjures thoughts of a world full of tall pines and small rivers, a cozy little village nestled in a crater. So tiny, it never felt like enough for them, and yet now they’re surrounded by so much longing for the village and the ones they left behind.

Feldspar comes back to the conversation and smiles, intrigued, from behind their helmet. “Different versions, eh? Inter-dimensional sort of traveling?” Hornfels only theorized that it was possible; they doubted even the Nomai, as advanced a species as they were, could accomplish such a thing. But these are very different aliens, as Feldspar’s quickly learned, and so they should expect the unexpected.

“I was, yeah.” Until they got trapped for…okay, so they don’t know how long they were missing. Years, definitely. “My pals and I started up the space program on our planet. Outer Wilds Ventures.”

They say it proudly, all the memories on the backs of the words.

“This is definitely the furthest I’ve ever gone. Possibly anyone, but time and place is a little…strange now, y’know?”

[thedreamer]

"All sorts of traveling, of course," he's quick to say. "No limits!" Well, that's not entirely true, but mostly, and that's good enough for his boasting. The universe is vast and infinite and he's seen so much, done so much. There are the beginning, there at the end, turn the lights off when he goes, that sort of thing.

"All across time and space, wherever you'd want to go." But if anything can get him to hush up about his own exploits for a moment, it's hearing about someone else's travels, particularly from a veritable pioneer.

"It's always a bit strange, every moment, and that's good, that keeps things interesting. But tell me all about your space program," he encourages with a cheerful grin. "You and your friends, you wanted to have a go at something beyond your world, so...details, please." He waves his hand a little, eager for Feldspar to fill in the gaps. He realizes he's oversimplifying it, but it's always thrilling to hear of those who wanted to explore; what they thought and felt and wanted to see, and how they put their brilliant minds to work on the idea.

[getfeldsparred]

‘Wanted to have a go at something beyond your world’ - poetic, really, a sentiment Feldspar wouldn’t have been able to put into words. Slate’s motives had always had been the rocket science, Hornfels loved the astrophysics, and Gossan loved the idea of exploration.

Feldspar always liked the adrenaline and the unknown. Nothing beat getting strapped to one of Slate’s rockets and just seeing what happened next. The thrill of almost-dying made them feel alive, and if they could burn up right alongside the stars it would have been the best way to go.

“We all grew up together,” they say wistfully. “Slate and Hornfels were geniuses - Slate spent hours tinkering with engines and rockets, and Hornfels understood all that complex mathematic junk. Gossan and I, we just wanted to get into space. Gossan was always forward-thinking; they were the organized one, they made us what we were.

“There was all this stuff laying around from an alien race that had lived in our solar system thousands of years ago, and it seemed a waste not to use it. We wanted to see if one of us could get into space, so one day Slate strapped a rocket to a barrel and stuck a chair in it, and they pointed me towards the sky and hit the big switch.”

Feldspar chuckles. “It exploded. I think I went about ten meters into the air, but it was a start.”

[timebuddy]

That harmonica is jarring with how familiar it is. That particular song is - gut wrenching with how familiar it is. But it calls to them like the stars above their heads, and they follow the sound of the music until they spot the campfire.

For a moment, they're back at home. Or - no, that's not right. They don't remember much of Feldspar at home.

They approach quietly, shoes crunching on snow, and sit down on a log across from them.

[getfeldsparred]

When the footsteps draw near Feldspar looks up from the metal harmonica, thankfully kept from freezing against their mouth by the protective barrier of their helmet. They stare out at the newcomer with a kind of slow-dawning excitement and a touch of horror. They hadn’t been sure that last campfire had been real, but what if it wasn’t? What if none this is real and they’ve finally lost their mind?

“Hatchling? That you?”

All grown up and piloting a ship, is what they remember, their helmet looking like Gossan’s as it sat on their head.

“Didn’t think anyone else followed me here.”

[timebuddy]

"The one and only," they answer, stretching one leg out and shoving a mallow onto the end of a perfect looking stick. The end of the universe, or the beginning of another one? Another adventure to start. Another adventure to end.

"You don't have to wear that here, you know. Unless it's warmer?" They don't really know. They shed the suit as soon as they could, feeling odd and clunky in this new world with a nonfunctional HUD, broken flashlight, and dead Scout.

[getfeldsparred]

“Definitely not warmer, but it does mean I can play my harmonica without ripping my lips clean off.”

And the suit oddly limits the staring. They wonder why the hatchling doesn’t seem to care. They knew them when they were little, just a pebble, really. They seem so…world-weary now, so much older than their lack of wrinkles might imply.

[timebuddy]

They keep the mallow away from the flames, enough to ensure it's nice and melted on the inside.

It's been a few loops since they've seen Feldspar, truly seen them, and they wish, for a moment, they could see their face. The Dark Bramble made that impossible.

"It's warm by the fire," they tell them, casting a glance to the skies. It's been longer than their twenty two minute allotment and they're still on edge about it, watching the stars to blink out.

"What were you doing before you came here?"

[getfeldsparred]

It's warm by the campfire. If they sit there roasting marshmallows and looking at the pines long enough they can almost believe they're back on Timber Hearth.

They were never going to see that little planet ever again, were they? The longer they sit there pondering their final moments, the more they understand that it was the end of all things. They died never seeing home or friends.

"Sitting around a fire, playing the harmonica."

They were there playing with the others, and yet they weren't. They were in the Dark Bramble when the sun exploded, and yet they weren't.

"You were there. Do you remember?"

[timebuddy]

They pull the mallow back, touch it gently, then return it to the fire. "I do. And - I don't. It was the end of all things, but - it was a beginning, too. All the possibilities merging into one, final moment," they muse, watching the flames.

"At least that's what I thought."

[getfeldsparred]

That’s how they understood it too. They think they know how it was possible - there’s some piece of them that understands words like Eye of the Universe and quantum states - but then there’s the rest of their brain that has no Hearthly idea what any of it means or how they ended up in that ancient glade.

“This place sort of takes away from that finality, doesn’t it? That should have been it.”