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singillppl2023-10-09 11:52 pm
singmod) wrote in singillppl2023-10-09 11:52 pm
Entry tags:
October 2023 Test Drive Meme
OCTOBER 2023 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 — not to mention the fact they are not the first to come here.
PROMPT TWO — GUILTY PARTY: Interlopers are kidnapped and held captive by a being and forced to confess their wrong doings, or face fatal consequences.
PROMPT THREE — OFF THE BEATEN TRACK: Interlopers get more than they bargained for when a mysterious albeit friendly dog comes across them and persuades them to follow them into the wilds.
ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST
WHEN: Mid-October.
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 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. 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.
“Ah, more of you have come.” he nods, just as he suspected you might. “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 and coffee, along with soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus some grilled fish, instant mashed potatoes, and tinned vegetables. 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 troubled, thoughtful. The arrival of so many is not something that sits well with him. The others from town will eventually trail in too, to eat and warm themselves, and search amongst 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, but perhaps you might be able to get some answers from those fellow arrivals who’ve been in this place for some time now.
GUILTY PARTY
WHEN: Over the next month.
WHERE: Paradise Farm Outbuildings.
CONTENT WARNINGS: forced imprisonment; forced honesty; supernatural beings; confessional themes; threat of death; possible character death; possible death by throat injury.
You don’t remember how you came to be here. The air is cold and damp, the rot of wood is strong, and… blood. Why does it smell of so much blood? You can’t seem to see all that much in the gloom, but you think you’re in some kind of outbuilding of sorts. You find yourself chained to a chair, the metal is heavy and cold against you and no matter whatever you seem to do, you can’t seem to free yourself from them. No struggling can ease their hold, and there’s no lock to unpick or break. They weigh you down in your seat, you can't even seem to tip yourself over.
But you’re not the only one here. Across from you in the dark is someone else. One of your fellow Interlopers is trapped here with you, too. They too don’t remember anything either, they’re equally as confused and uncertain as you. Perhaps frightened. Not only this, they’re also sat chained up just as tightly. You have a little time to talk before you realise the two of you aren’t alone.
There's a glooming green light, the feeling of a presence. A huge figure steps into view, cloaked in black. It’s hard to tell whether it’s a man or a woman, and it’s difficult to make out much detail of them. Their face is obscured by a stone mask in the shape of a monstrous, horned and fanged Jackal. Green light glows from behind it, foreboding in the dark. It will not answer you if you try to speak with it.
“WICKEDNESS LIES WITHIN YOU.” The voice is a fierce chorus of whispers, but yet so loud. It sends a shiver down your spine. “I HAVE SEEN IT.”
... You can’t help but know it to be true. Something inside you knows what they speak of is true. Any misdeed or wrongdoing done by your hand, any cruel word you spoke, any life you took or heart you broke. You feel exposed, seen. The figure knows what you have done.
“CONFESS.” the figure demands. “UNBURDEN YOUR HEART AND BE FREE. BE SILENT AND CARRY IT TO THE GRAVE.”
The figure holds an item in its hand, something that glints in the light that glows from its mask. Now you realise why there’s so much blood in the air: it’s a sickle, dripping with blood. You are not the first to be brought here. You will not be the last.
Speak, unburden yourself, and if the figure is satisfied — you will, in fact, go free. Refuse, or not take the demand seriously, and the figure will deem you unworthy. They will move within the blink of an eye, striking you with the sickle in the neck — let it be a mercy that they kill you quickly.
OFF THE BEATEN TRACK
WHEN: Over the next month.
WHERE: Milton / Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural creature; trickster creature; themes of peril; possible character injury; possible dead body discoveries; potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk; possible character death.
The weather will continue to prove difficult for all who try to navigate this world, but with the current footfall in and around Milton, it’s at least helped to keep paths and roads somewhat clear despite the snow’s best efforts to cover up these walkways. Still, it’s a pain to get around, especially on particularly snowy days. Unfortunately, it’s sometimes necessary to go out on such days — survival doesn’t stop for the weather to pass.
And so journeys must be made, hunting must be done, forageables must be collected. You try to keep to the paths and trails, where the terrain yields before you for an easier journey.
… Until you hear barking through the trees, the sound of paws through the snow. Given the recent wolf activity of the last month, it’s understandable to be on edge. However, it isn’t a wolf that comes into view: it’s a large dog, bigger than any dog you’ve seen before. Coated in thick and shaggy black fur, this animal doesn’t seem to be like the wolves that have been found so far in this world. While the wildlife has certainly been altered, this dog remains very much like anyone would expect a dog to act in terms of behaviour. It’s playful with some, certainly friendly, constantly trying to play chase with you as it loops around in circles with a wagging tail.
However, there’s an insistence with this dog. It wants you to follow it. It will bark incessantly, trying to pull you from the path to go after it into the woods. It wants to show you something, take you somewhere. It will even try to gently pull at a coat-sleeve or trouser-leg to coax your forwards before heading off, keeping just in sight for you to go after it.
You’ll find it increasingly difficult to keep up, even if you pick up the pace as you head further into the woods. There’s less snow here, but the forest floor is filled with holes and tree roots that will trip you up. Falls are likely. But even worse is when before you know it, the ground simply gives way beneath you, sending you tumbling into a small valley or getting you stuck deep into soft, muddy earth. With it, perhaps, twisted ankles or worse. Or perhaps simply battered and bruised and unable to climb out of trench of earth. Maybe you come face to face with the body of some other poor Interloper who'd met their own end in similar manner — trapped and injured in the ditch.
Or worse still, the dog might just have you stumbling over a cliff face and tumbling into the Basin. Whatever fate befalls you, it’s as if the dog simply led you into it. And said dog, however, will be nowhere to be seen. It will have left you stuck, hurt, lost in the woods.
You’re sure you can hear some dark chuckling on the wind. Maybe it’s just the trees.
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. Characters will find that once they have confessed, they will pass out. When they awaken, they will find themselves lying or sitting on the floor — the being, chairs and chains have gone. They are free to leave.
2. Attempts to search the outbuildings at later dates will prove fruitless. There is no sign of the being, nor the chairs or chains that held characters, but there will be blood on the floor that can be found.
3. One character can confess, or both. Player choice! As long as someone's doing some confessing.
1. Gyests, sometimes called Ghests or Bargyests are evil creatures from Northumberland, UK folklore. They seek to lure travelers away from a known and safe road to their miry and marshy demise, or perhaps lead them to walk in the darkness of a Cheviot night over the edge of a precipice. Often taking the shape of horses, donkeys or large dogs, Gyests could also shape-shift to appear as men, or even stacks of hay. But always their intention was to trick humans, for their own amusement, and lure them to their doom.
2. Attempts to lure or trap the Gyest will not work.
no subject
Yeah. Well. They're free to try.
I have a pretty full schedule to get back to. And my sister would kill me if I died now.
no subject
Are you accustomed to battle?
[his conversational skills are beyond rusty, but he's at a disadvantage here in his weakened state and so some conversation is necessary. it would be fortunate if this girl was no stranger to defending herself if anything were to approach them out here.
he hums quietly in response at first, turning over his thoughts. so the girl hadn't died before waking up here, unlike him. an interesting detail.]
Older or younger?
no subject
Kind of like a mercenary- But the main focus of the job is monster hunting and protecting the people.
[And battle was the name of the game back in her own world. She was a little testy too knowing that her own abilities didn't seem to be working here.
She doesn't quite catch the meaning of the hum, but she's happy she at least has him talking a little more. It was better than an awkward silence any day.]
She's two years older than me, and definitely a handful in her own right.
What about you? Any siblings or an only child?
no subject
[it's certainly nothing he's ever heard of through all the networks he handled back on that planet. the pieces don't align here and there are questions rising, but he doubts this girl knew any more than he did.]
Would a monster be anything that isn't human?
[it's almost a trick question, but there's no risk to ruby in answering. knives is pretty certain what her answer would be anyway.]
A brother.
no subject
[Definitely not on her home world by the looks of it.]
Mostly The Creatures of Grimm. Which are monstrosities basically made with the sole purpose of hunting down humans. But I've fought my fare share of animal or other creature too. It's more like if they're actively dangerous at the time, you know?
[She gives a hint of a smile there.]
Oh nice! We both have siblings! That's one thing in common already.
no subject
[what is this, something out of a storybook for children-
knives pauses, fixing ruby with a scrutinizing look. red cloak and hood, he could almost believe it to be some homage to the old fairytales rem used to read to him as a child. well... whatever. he looks back ahead of them. in the distance the curls of smoke from town wave at them enticingly.] ... I suppose.
[that actually manages to get him to snort.]
I imagine that will be all we have in common.
no subject
[And then the scrutinizing look hits and she can't help but feel a little awkward. Don't mind her as she focuses on the road head too. She breaths a sigh of relief seeing the town come into view and her pace picks up ever so slightly.]
Well jeez- Try not to sound too interested.
Try me! Tell me something about you and we'll see what we have going on here.
no subject
blessed town is within sight and knives is... apprehensive. not even death could magically cure him of his feelings towards humans and he suspected whatever awaited them in this town would be just that. but he needed clothes, proper ones meant for this weather and, more importantly, answers.]
I can play piano.
no subject
[Ruby does her best to avoid confronting her own apprehension about approaching the town. It looked like there were fires- Which was good. But that didn't exactly mean where they were going was friendly.
She does perk up in interest when he gives her a little crumb of information.]
Hey! That's cool. I can't play an instrument to save my life but I like music. And I have a friend back at home who had a killer singing voice- She performed in all these classy concerts and stuff.
no subject
[he isn't placing any bets on how 'good' his luck is here. whatever brought them here could be just as able to drag those grimm creatures along with the girl. it was better to be realistic about their chances of survival than wasting energy on hope.]
Most are not well suited to play instruments. [gotta have that rhythm!] You speak of her in the past tense. Is there a reason?
[talking helps a little in staving off the biting cold. he continues flexing his hands by his sides as they walk.]
Your turn.
no subject
[Her luck was atrocious on a good day and she hadn't even considered the fact that other things could be pulled in just like they had.]
Yeah, I guess you have a point there. But- It's not anything that really happened to her- It's just our job doesn't really lend itself to concerts and singing. The state of the world back at home isn't exactly stable. We spend more time fighting than anything else.
[It was a bit of a long story- And more than a bit of a downer. So she shifts gears from there.]
I-
Well I'm kind of a dork when it comes to weapons. For a long time I used to think they were cooler than people. I've kind of had some time to realize it's the person who makes them cool. But I do think you can learn a lot about some based on what they use.
[She taps a long red box hanging from the back of her belt.]
Like my girl Crescent Rose here. She's high impact sniper rifle that can transform into a scythe.
no subject
[everyone has their share of unfortunate circumstances that lead themselves into grief and suffering, a certainty across the universes. knives has never put any thought to what kind of person he would have been if everything hadn't gone so wrong at the very beginning.
but the shift in topics, weaponry, is what really catches his attention. he's lost his ability to call forth his own blades, ghostly sensations of their familiar weight in his palms that make his fingers twitch. his gaze moves down to where she taps the box, brow quirking in muted interest.]
Dual wielding is an impressive skill to have in your back pocket. [figuratively and literally. he'd like to see how she works this weapon, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if a grimm did show up...] Did you name her yourself?
no subject
[Her eyes do light up when he shows interest in her weapon. Weapons were always a passion of hers.]
I did- Kind of a play on my last name and also a tribute to my mom's weapon, it was called Sundered Rose. I also designed and made it myself. My uncle taught me how to fight so she's kind of based off what he uses.
[There's a pause before she asks.]
How about you? You don't happen to have a weapon of your own, do you?
no subject
I did, once.
[his dark hair a stark reminder to everything he's lost. he breathes out a sigh, warm air fogging around his face.]
I'll have to fashion myself something else to use here.
no subject
But she smiles a little as she comes up with an idea.]
Well what did you use before?
And if you want I could help you make something to use here. Assuming we can find a forge and the materials we need to make something.
no subject
[simple, but effective. he raises a hand and slowly cracks his knuckles one by one with his thumb.] I could conjure them myself, all in varying shapes and sizes. Whatever I could imagine, I made come true.
[there's a hint of longing as he speaks, but the emotion is gone as quickly as it appeared. for a brief moment, amusement tugs the corner of his lips up.] It's befitting, considering my name.
[her offer is kind, generous even and knives is instinctively wary of such things. they've only just met, ruby fortunate only that she's met him at his lowest. his guard is thin, but the closer they get to the town - to other people, that will change.] We will see. If it can draw blood, I can work any weapon.
no subject
For real- That is sooooo cool!
Gosh- I'd ask you to show me but yeah- our powers working here is a total bummer.
[She does take note that his name does suit his abilities really well. It actually gets a little snort out of her.]
Kind of like how I could turn into rose petals and woosh around. We've got names in common, I guess.
[She taps her chin in thought and gives a nod.]
We'll get you something super sharp then, I promise.
no subject
wisely, he says nothing to her dejected reaction to his abilities. even if they could access their powers here, he would still be as drained as he is now.
... for a human she wasn't so terrible. yet another one of vash's influences.]
Don't make a promise you may not be able to keep. [he stares ahead, the town close enough to catch the scent of smoke on the wind.] There's no telling what awaits us here.
[to survive meant to be selfish and knives wasn't sure yet if he even wanted to survive. but he could at least lead this girl to the hopeful safety of others like her before he could make his decision.]
no subject
You've got a good point there. But- We could be lucky and run into some more people like us running around.
There's a chance it could happen as opposed to wild bandits- Just saying.
[Sure the odds were low, but they hadn't been attacked yet. And if the town was a trap she feels it would have been sprung sooner than later.
As it stands she does find her pace picking up a little.]
Not exactly sure how I feel that both of us wound up here and powerless.
Whatever did that has to have some serious power itself.