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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
Oh? I wasn't aware I needed your permission.
[ He raises an eyebrow pointedly, expression close to bratty rebellion. There's something kind of funny about Knives trying to act like a proper older brother authority figure now after everything. It's not as if Vash actually minds though. After all, whether he listens or not is an entirely different matter and one Knives already knows the answer to. There's no stopping a typhoon. However, this demand is an easy one to meet for the moment since he wasn't planning on leaving town anytime soon anyway.
It also means he can raise one of his own. Which he does while poking Knives in the chest. ]
Fine. But only if you come stay with me at the church.
[ He could say it's because he wants to keep an eye on Knives, make sure he doesn't create any trouble for the people here and all that, but it's for the far more selfish reason of easing his own loneliness. They both know Knives won't do anything — he's lost his war and his powers. There's little his brother could do even if he wanted to. That's in the past now. Their tickets to the future will always remain blank.
It might be a bad idea. They're not the same people they once were and they haven't stayed together for so many years now. Finding some equilibrium and sense of normalcy between them is likely not going to be easy. Still, he's been given this opportunity and so Vash wants to try. Maybe they can never quite be the two halves that made a whole that they once were, the cracks too wide to fill, but at the very least Vash plans to keep his recently remembered promise.
'Don't leave Knives on his own.'
He won't. He can make space for him in his room at the church and having him there means Vash has something (someone) to return to; a reason to stick around and maybe even settle if he can. ]
no subject
knives realizes quite suddenly, oh so quietly, that he's never seen vash pout with this face. all grown up and all the memories he has to look back on over the last century and a half are those of his brother in pain, in fear, in anger, in tears.
the poke isn't as hard as it could be, better to be replaced with a bullet instead.]
Do you really want that?
[he asks so sincerely because there is nothing for him to lose if vash were to change his mind, retract the offered demand as he comes to his senses at knives' prompting question.]
no subject
[ There is no hesitation, the immediate answer that falls from his lips is swift and sure. He doesn't want to be alone anymore and he gets the distinct impression that Knives doesn't either. They've been apart for so long, it's finally time to mend what's been broken. Or at least try to, together. He understands why Knives asks, knows that there are many who would be boggled by this decision when he and his brother have been bitter enemies for so long, but... ]
It's a new place. A new day. Let's start over.
[ The thing is, Knives had been the one to leave. Vash had never meant to part from Knives' side even when he couldn't remember Rem's dying wish. During that long stretch of time in which they were separated and fighting on opposite ends of a war of Knives' creation, he could have come back to Vash any time and Vash would have accepted his blank ticket. Sure, he might hold himself and his twin to different standards than he does humans, but he would have been plenty willing to try working through things had his brother returned to him whenever.
So yes, he really wants that. To drive that point home, he tilts his head downwards, peering up through his lashes at Knives while his lips form a semi-pout again. The result is a beguiling look that's been a tried and true tactic from their childhood, one that would usually have Rem caving or hurriedly looking away to avoid doing so. ]
So please? It's not a big home and we'll probably need to haul in another mattress, but we'll fit. It's peaceful there.
no subject
but vash is so certain and it shakes knives just enough to have him faltering. even worse is seeing how vash tilts his head just so, tried and true pout that has knives looking away with a knot between his brows and his nose wrinkling. completely defeated.]
... Fine.
[there's an expectation that vash will still change his mind. knives expects it because such a blessing is simply too good for him to accept. it's more than what he deserves.]
When you are finished here, we'll go back together.
no subject
Knives caves verbally and Vash's pout is instantly replaced by a pleased, beaming smile. He'd been fully prepared to drag Knives to the church if need be as there's no way he's actually letting his brother out of his sight after his little apple tree stunt, but it's far better if he comes of his own volition. ]
There isn't a lot left to do here except maybe the clean-up later once all the newcomers have had their fill.
[ The 'so we can go back whenever it gets to be too much for you' is left unspoken and simply implied. There's no doubt in Vash's mind that this whole experience is overwhelming for his brother and being in the presence of so many humans while powerless likely isn't easy. With the feast well-prepared and Methuselah and other volunteers flitting about tending to the newcomers, Vash's presence can be missed.
However, speaking of the feast... ]
You should eat, too.
[ The finger previously jabbed against Knives' chest is lifted to give a gentler prod to his turned cheek with an easy familiarity that hasn't been there for many years. The abandoned plate clearly hasn't been forgotten. ]
no subject
[vash would be right in presuming knives' discomfort at his current surroundings. discomfort a complete understatement for how he felt right now, exposed and vulnerable with so much activity dancing in his peripheries it makes his skin prickle and his chest tighten. he wanted to leave, disappear into the shadows and out of sight of every stranger here.
he sighs through his nose, heavy and withering with unspeakable exhaustion as vash gleams at him with that warming smile. he fears if he basked in it for too long he'd never be able to pull himself away.]
I'm not hungry.
[still picky and with an appetite smaller than a clenched fist, even if knives knows he can't afford to be choosey here. vash's finger pokes at his cheek and his face twitches, lips pulling down into a frown that could absolutely be mistaken as a pout.]
no subject
[ It's what he's best at: running. Whether literally or in the form of keeping himself occupied at all times in a bid to outrun the grief and loneliness. When a quiet, simple life is out of his reach, he has to settle for keeping busy instead. It's not so bad, it's what he's used to after all.
Knives sighs and, predictably, tells him he's not hungry. His brother has always been a terribly picky eater. Some things never seem to change even after a century and a half and there's some comfort to be found in that fact when so much has changed between them. However, this is not a place where anyone can afford to be picky. Food resources are scarce and their options are getting more and more limited by the day as the supply of canned food dwindles with nothing there to replace it beyond what can be hunted and scavenged in the forest.
Not at all dissuaded by the displeased pout, he pokes again in clear reprimand with a disapproving tut. ]
You need to keep your strength up. I made the soup myself, y'know.
[ If that changes anything for Knives. Probably not though. His brother will need to get over his pickiness and bad eating habits, but given that Vash is more concerned with keeping him alive now that his brother has been returned to him from the dead, he'll make him a special offer just this once. ]
We don't have a lot of choices here, but I can make you something else.
no subject
he would have to make amends, properly pay the price he had dodged for so long. he could start with accepting the stupidly simple gestures vash offers him.
lacking any heat behind it knives swats away vash's poking finger, still frowning. but of course, vash's suggestion does catch his interest. knives tilts his head, taking the bait his brother dangles before him.]
What would that be?
no subject
I can prepare you some fresher meat. We've got rabbit, deer, and fish.
[ Of course there's some on the tables, charred and grilled in larger batches to last a while, but he can make him something less dry and hopefully more appealing should Knives prefer something more tender and carefully cooked. He has a feeling his brother won't be going for any of the canned goods, so that's about all he's got to offer when most of their variety in food comes from cans or tins. Well, that and... ]
The only other fresh stuff is mostly berries and nuts. I could maybe make a sauce with the juniper berries. That would probably go well with deer.
[ He's trying to improvise something fancy on the spot when everything they've got to work with is as basic as can be. It'll be worth it if he can get Knives to eat anything because Vash isn't kidding, he will need it. Feasts like these don't exactly happen every day either. If the prospect of a special tailored meal doesn't get Knives to cave, maybe the hopeful look on Vash's face will. ]
no subject
vash keeps them connected, touch warm against his shoulders and knives hates that he's grateful for it. it's everything he wanted, but not at all how he imagined having it. such was the story of his life, it seemed.]
Then I'll have that. [he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded as he studies his brother's face.] I'll help you.
[a fine excuse to step away from the noise of humans- people, and see the other sides of this community hall.]
no subject
Maybe he shouldn't be so indulgent, remain more stern and admonishing. Knives would deserve it after everything he's done, after leaving him again, but Vash simply doesn't have it in him. The miracle that's so warm and alive under his hands is one he wants to hold on tight to and treasure. Second chances can be so very rare and he wants to make the most out of this unexpected one. So when Knives acquiesces, Vash is just glad.
He smiles, easy. He'd already been planning on taking Knives along with him, both so as not to let him leave his sight and to give him a moment away from the crowded hall. ]
Alright, this way.
[ His artificial hand falls away entirely as he pulls back while his flesh one drifts down along his brother's arm, coming to a stop near his wrist where fingers catch and curl into the edge of a sleeve. He turns and moves away towards the kitchen, his hold a gentle guide rather than a forcible pull as he leads his twin through the crowd into the much quieter space of the kitchen. It's only there that he finally lets go, pointing towards an ice box even as he drifts ahead towards the stove. ]
You can pick whatever cut you like there. The pieces on the right are deer meat.