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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
[ His grip is firm without being crushing, and his blue eyes are steady as he meets her gaze. ]
Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mountain Police, at your service. And as happy as I am to be back up north, I admit I'm a little surprised to be here. I – Diefenbaker, no.
[ This, along with a stern look, is directed at the wolf, who has been sniffing at the woman's boots. ]
You're being extremely rude.
[ The wolf whines, but settles back onto his haunches, and Fraser turns a slightly abashed glance back on the woman. ]
Please excuse him. He seems to have picked up some shocking manners during our time in Chicago. City living, you know.
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Of course.
[ Said because she's not sure how else to respond to such a comment. (She really isn't the person who should be making this hellscape's version of First Contact, is she?) Tucking her hands into her coat pockets, she takes a deep breath and steels herself for the task ahead. First up: introductions. ]
Lieutenant La'an Noonien-Singh, Starfleet. [ The briefest pause, and then: ] Constable Fraser, what year was it for you? Wherever you were before this.
[ She says it like it's a perfectly normal question, as normal as asking if he had breakfast that morning. How he reacts to what comes next will tell her a lot about him, good or bad. ]
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It was 1994, sir.
[ He answers crisply and adroitly, apparently having decided that a superior officer can ask whatever bizarre questions she deems necessary. His own curiosity is running rampant, but he locks it behind a straight-faced expression, unwilling to presume overmuch. In a moment, perhaps, once she's asked whatever else she needs to ask. ]
And it was Chicago, Illinois. Where I was, that is. I was at the Canadian Consulate, where I work. Diefenbaker was there, too – in Chicago, I mean, not at the Consulate, of course. He does occasionally accompany me, but I distinctly recall leaving him in the apartment this morning when I left for work.
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Interesting. I don't think I've heard of anyone arriving together from separate locations.
[ The comment is mostly said to herself, her gaze falling back down to the wolf so obediently at his side. But then she lets out a heavy sigh and nods in the direction of town before turning to head back toward the Community Hall. ]
Come on. There are some things you need to know. We'll talk on the way.
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[ Fraser turns to the wolf, who is looking away, seemingly ignoring him. The man's shoulders lift and fall in a silent sigh, and he leans down. ]
Dief. Diefenbaker. [ When that doesn't work, he reaches to grip the wolf's muzzle, turning its face so they're looking at each other. ] You need to pay attention. We're going into the town, and I want you to behave. It's likely the people here will be more than slightly alarmed by the sight of a wolf. Stay by me, please.
[ Releasing him, Fraser falls into step beside La'an, the wolf trotting along beside him. ]
I'm terribly sorry. He's deaf, you see, and sometimes I think he looks away just so he has plausible deniability for not doing as he's told... you were going to tell me something about this place?
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Or maybe she's overthinking things and a wolf is just a wolf. It's not like she ever had pets to compare this experience to.
Her boots crunch in the snow that becomes packed down as they move onto a more frequently walked path. She doesn't slow her usual pace, which is brisk and meant to keep up with longer legs than her own. ]
Right. Well, to start, there was a wolf attack here a few months ago. The animals were... different than your friend there, but fear is rarely logical, so you'll want to keep him close as much as possible.
no subject
[ She's much smaller than him, but moves briskly. Fraser keeps pace at her side, Diefenbaker trotting along with his nose to the snow nearby. His own boots were polished to a parade-ready sheen just that morning, and now they gleam mellow and brown beneath the clinging bits of snow.
Although he listens politely, there's a thoughtful, troubled little kink in his brow. ]
They attacked people, these wolves? Were they rabid?
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[ Influenced. How else would the Aurora's effects be described? But conveying that to someone who has just arrived and may not be used to odd occurrences may prove more challenging than she'd anticipated.
Best to start with something he'll believe, then. She glances over at him, studying him for a moment, before diving in. ]
Did you hear the voice when you woke up out there? The one calling you Interloper?
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[ But of course any questions he might have for her can wait; he nods, brisk, at her. ]
Yes, I did. I admit I found it a little strange.
[ A little. ]
There seem to be, at minimum, two powers at work: one that brought us here and ergo wants us here, and one that wants us gone. Judging by my presence here and yours, [ he adds, wanting to support his theory. ]
Otherwise I have no explanation for how I arrived here from Chicago, and you arrived here from Starfleet, which is not an organization with which I am familiar.
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No, you wouldn't be. If we're from the same timeline, Starfleet won't be established for another 167 years. [ She stops walking and turns to face him properly, her expression deadly serious as she looks up at him. ] I'm from the year 2259, but I was brought here from 2023. As far as we can tell, it's 2014 here.
no subject
[ And then, a few beats later: ]
Oh, dear.
[ He looks more crestfallen than anything else, because there's simply no good reasoning for this. Either he's gone crazy (unlikely, genetically speaking), or she's lying (he considers this only reluctantly), or she's telling the truth, a truth for which he has no context or explanation. ]
Yes, that might cause some problems.
no subject
Well, I appreciate how calmly you're taking this.
[ Though it could very well be shock setting in, or his mind outright refusing to comprehend something so out of the norm. Turning, she begins walking again, gloved hands returning to her pockets. ]
The people here will confirm what I'm saying. The only living person native to this place is an old man named Methuselah, but he doesn't have many more answers than we do.
no subject
[ Because he's familiar with this kind of cold; grew up with it. Every crisp, snow-scented breath of air he takes is familiar in the way it cuts and bites and numbs. If he dies from a delusion of a northern winter, it'll kill him all the same.
Besides, his dreams of home rarely include time-travelers from the future. ]
I see. So these other people, they are... interlopers, also?
no subject
Yes, we all are.
[ Her steps slow slightly and she tries to play it off as anything but her body tiring much sooner than it should. ]
Many of the people who lived here before abandoned this place, and those who were left... I arrived with the first way, and the only person still alive was the old man. We buried the others as well as we could.
no subject
[ That, and also the change in her stride. And he's not the only one; Diefenbaker comes trotting over, looking up at her with a small whine. Fraser considers him, studies her again with that keen, thoughtful glance. ]
And the people who have arrived? They're doing well so far? No major injuries, no sickness?
[ There's a particular innocence to his tone that would set Ray Vecchio off on a long-winded rant on Mounties, Canadians, and the deep underlying psychological problems with both, but Ray isn't here, only Fraser, watching her with those clear blue eyes. ]
no subject
Stopping again, she uses the pause as an excuse to lower herself to one knee, reaching out a gloved hand to let the wolf smell her before she attempts to give him pets. He might be the same species as those that attacked the town a few months ago, but their dispositions are like night and day. ]
There have been some injuries, and not everyone here arrived fully healthy. [ Especially those from centuries earlier even from the present date. ] We have a few people here with medical training, but our supplies are limited.
no subject
Fraser's brow knits, thoughtful. ]
He seems to think you need to be warmer. Diefenbaker, please, I'm sure the Lieutenant knows what she's doing.
[ The wolf looks up at him, and Fraser shakes his head. ]
No... no. You need to let people decide their own limits. She's perfectly aware of the temperature and wind chill. I'm sure she has a very good reason for being out in the cold.
no subject
It only lasts a few moments, just long enough for her to think of what to say to this conversation the Wolf and Mountie have shared, and then she unwraps her arms from around Diefenbaker and leans back. ]
I'm out here because I need to rebuild my stamina after I was sick for a few weeks. It took a lot out of me, and I need to be able to patrol the border as long as we're here. [ She says it simply as if it must be a very logical explanation. ]
no subject
[ Fraser leans down to offer her a gloved hand, intending to help her to her feet as Diefenbaker circles nearby, tail waving like a flag. ]
I'm very sorry to have interrupted your exercise for the day, but Diefenbaker and I appreciate you showing us to the town.
[ Could he find it himself? Easily. But that wouldn't give her an excuse to make her way back out of the cold to recover, ideally indoors, ideally near a warm fire and with something hot to drink. ]
As newcomers, it'll benefit us to get the lay of the land. Which I can also improve by taking on some of those patrolling duties... with your permission, of course.
no subject
[ He's so polite and helpful that it catches her off-guard. Even most members of Starfleet don't reach these levels, aside perhaps from cadets still trying to earn their commission. It's not a bad thing, not by any means, it's just... unusual. And kind of nice.
She takes his offered hand, leveraging as much of her own weight as she can but still needing his help far more than she'd like to get upright again. After a few moments to stabilize herself, she lets go of his hand and gestures for them to continue on their way. ]
I'd appreciate any help you care to give, as would the others. There are a few of us who keep an eye on the borders.
no subject
[ There's a brief pause, and then Fraser pulls from his belt a small, collapsible spyglass. This, he sets to one eye, proceeding to study the edge of the treeline, at which nothing has moved and no animals have appeared.
There's a satisfied look on his face as he lowers and collapses the glass, before he turns politely to the Lieutenant. ]
Would you kindly excuse me for just one moment?
[ In the next instant, he's making his way steadily across the snow towards a spruce tree, Diefenbaker trailing idly along after him. Some motion of his causes the tree to shiver and shake, dumping snow on his hat and on the ground around him, but he comes jogging back a few moments later, his gloved hand full of fresh spruce needles. ]
Pine needles; full of vitamin C. If you'd allow me to brew a little tea for you, it should help you get back on your feet that much faster, sir.
no subject
Thank you. That sounds lovely.
[ And extremely useful. With their supplies being what they are, it's little things like this that will help them survive in this place. Though she's never glad for anyone else to end up trapped here, she is grateful that someone with this kind of knowledge has joined their ranks. ]
I take it you have quite a bit of experience with terrain like this.
no subject
I was born and raised in the Northwest Territories, and spent much of my professional life in the Yukon. For lack of a better term, this is... home.
[ There's undisguised, if reserved, wistfulness in his voice as he looks out over the bleak terrain. Deifenbaker is back by the treeline, sniffing along after the tracks of some small animal, clearly as delighted to be back up North as Fraser is. ]
I haven't been back in... Well, it's been too long. But I can understand the difficulties which people new to this climate would have.
no subject
[ What she wouldn't give for a working computer, even the primitive ones that were available in 2014. She knows they aren't actually living in the Dark Ages, but it certainly feels that way at times. There's nothing here remotely like what she's used to in the 23rd century. ]
It's good that this feels familiar to you, though. Both of you. That'll help you survive this place.
no subject
[ No electricity, no power, a never-ceasing and all-encompassing silent cold that can kill almost without warning; Ray would hate it here. He feels a sudden and aching twinge at the thought – Ray would hate it, but he wishes the detective were here, anyway. ]
Is there anything else you feel it might be important for me to know?
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