methuselah (
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.

Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca | Better Call Saul
(cw: early stages of frostbite, early stages of hypothermia, minor injury
[ You're not sure how, or maybe you are; maybe you went out here looking for newcomers, or maybe you are a newcomer yourself, suddenly dropped into the forest with no explanation.
No matter how you got here, it doesn't take long for you to come across a man, Latino, early-to-mid 40s, with dark hair and white-gray streak. He is categorically not dressed for this weather, in a white-and-blue button-down and jeans, and if you get closer, you can see his fingers are red and he's shivering.
He shoots you a smile when he sees you, but it's shaky. He's shivering. ]
¡Hola! [ He's nursing an ankle. Rubbing it with his hands, before occasionally stopping to blow on his reddened fingers. His voice is oddly cheery for the situation, but it's also understandably strained. As you approach, he winces. It looks like his ankle might be twisted. He calls out hopefully, and with almost eerie cheerfulness considering the situation: ]
Sorry to bother you! Little help? I don't know what happened. Think I slipped and fell. OOF! [ He laughs, and mimes someone walking along and then suddenly crashing with a hand.
If you have any medical knowledge, as you get closer, you'll see it looks like his ankle is twisted. ]
GUILTY PARTY (PART UNO): YOU CONFESS
[ Finding himself chained up in a room, reeking of the iron tang of blood, is a possibility that has always existed for Lalo, in a way that it doesn't for most people. This isn't how he thought that would go down, though. There's somebody else here, too. Somebody he doesn't recognize.
He forces himself to stay calm and still, to not revolt against the chains, despite the instincts that tell him to. He can feel their heaviness, weighing on him, and he imagines the other person feels it too. He can see it on their face: they're surprised, maybe even frightened. They probably don't treat being kidnapped like it's something that happens everyday. But there's something about them; maybe it's in their face or their body language or their eyes, maybe they hide it well but sheer instinct tells Lalo what he needs to do.
They want to speak. No, they need to. This is someone burdened by guilt. Haunted by something they've done. In a gentle, encouraging tone: ]
Go on. I'm listening. I promise, no matter what you say, I won't judge. [ He means it. What could they say that would shock him, of all people? ]
GUILTY PARTY (PART DOS): HE CONFESSES
(cw: may contains references to: drug use, drug trafficking, murder, violence, torture.)
[ Welcome to Red Flag City, population: you. It's not just the weird presence, either, or the haunting green light you're bathed in that emanates from behind the presence's stone mask.
The other Interloper trapped with is... well. Let's just that he's strangely calm, almost eerily so, considering the situation, like he's done this before, many times. He looks you over with a gaze that's curious and friendly, but there's something sharp and smart behind his eyes.
Lalo heaves a deep breath, or tries to. The chains tightly lapping over his chest make it a little difficult to even breathe. He fixes the person across from him, also bound in chains, with a cheery smile. He can already tell by looking at them, observing their body language - they're closed off. Not gonna say shit.
Lalo's main thought is that he hopes this isn't an elaborate plan to use whatever he says against him in a court of law somewhere.
He gives you a little nod, a faint bob of his head, like he's conceding something. ]
Don't worry about it. [ He says; his way of conveying: You don't need to. ] I'll go.
[ It's all he can do not to laugh. Where does he even start? 'I've seen the wickedness in you'... yeah, you and everybody else he's crossed paths with, Weird Jackal Man. You ain't special. Lalo continues on anyway. First, before he confesses, he needs to know... ]
How strong is your stomach?
guilty party (part dos)
Lalo's offer mollifies. Lestat breaks into a smile of his own, showing the barest glimpse of his teeth, and inclines his head in gracious acknowledgement. The masked other might as well not be present for all the heed Lestat pays them, which is a deliberate (if likely wasted) snub. ]
Surpassingly.
[ His French accent is marked, but not overpowering. He leans forward very slightly, openly intrigued. It seems only polite to be an attentive audience. ]
SORRYYYY THIS IS SO LATE OH MY GOSH
He's far more interested in the man in front of him. There's an air of nobility to Lestat that Lalo can't help being interested in, and the French accent does nothing to counteract that impression.
Does the show of teeth make the hairs on the back of Lalo's neck stand on end? Does he feel a chilly coldness that comes not from their surroundings, but somewhere inside of him? Does something somewhere in his psyche whisper nervously that he should be careful? Maybe, but Lalo doesn't show it. ]
¡Muy bien! Then I won't bore you with the little things. [ Lalo winks. He is not, to be clear, a good winker. It's far too obvious and practiced. He still does it all the time, though. ]
It's Lalo, by the way. If you need something to call me. When I was a younger man, I visited a hotel with my uncle. He's a good guy, but he's older. You know the type. Set in his ways. It takes some explaining to get through to him sometimes. You get it. I'm sure. But he was trying hard, being polite, and the owner was so rude to him.
I couldn't stand for that! [ Lalo looks away but it's not out of guilt or fear. No, this is purely for dramatic effect, because Lalo loves speaking with his whole body and his eyes are all he can move right now. He swings his gaze back to Lestat quickly. ]
Neither could he. He's a proud man. Our family is very important where we're from. So [ said VERY cheerfully ] we killed them! Together. I mean, you ask me, they had it coming. [ He shrugs as much as the chains will let him. ]
You wanna hear how we did it?
Arrival
He didn't mull over that for too long. He had another plan in mind: Explore outside the town more, and try and find any other "Newcomers" lost out in the unknown in the event they need aid or assistance finding Milton. His current wear wasn't the greatest to be going out in this environment, but that's better than going out in his birthday suit. The raven-haired martial artist had been trekking around for the past fifteen to thirty minutes, not finding any signs of intelligent life. He was about to head back...
If not for the voice calling out to him. He looked over his shoulder, seeing an older man, rough 40s if he had to guesstimate, who... is not doing too hot, in the most literal sense.]
Crap, yeah! Hang on.
[The martial artist spared no second getting over to Lalo. Ranma's trained eyes picked up the nursing of his ankle in a bid to alleviate pain, and the red, swelling of his fingers. They need to get going, fast.]
I know the way to the town here. [He slung the older man's arm around his shoulder to help support him better so he isn't limping behind. Ranma didn't even wait for him to get a word in, opting to beeline it to the town as fast as he could without worsening the wounds further.] There's a town hall, warmer than it is out here. It should help with frostbite and hypothermia. It should also be a good place to rest-- [He gestures to Lalo's twisted ankle.] that for a couple days.
[Good news for Lalo, Ranma does know some basic first aid. He might be able to help deal with that.]
SORRY THIS IS SO LATE LMFAO
His arm is slung over Ranma's shoulder with a speed and strength that surprises Lalo. He doesn't have time to pull away even if he'd wanted to. Not that he wants to. He knows he needs the help. But he makes a mental note of it. Someone with those kinds of physical abilities can be a useful ally... or a formidable enemy, if he's not careful. It's Lalo's nature for his mind to automatically be looking for angles like that.
Not that he'd resist anyway. Lalo is no position to. He's sure he could handle himself even with a twisted ankle if he had to, but why invite that particular pain in the ass on himself if he doesn't have to?
He leans on Ranma, still a little surprised by how sturdy Ranma feels for a kid. ]
Oof! Thanks, man. I'm gonna owe ya. [ He rests his weight against Ranma as they walk, trying to keep as much as possible off of his twisted ankle. ]
One thing at a time. First, town hall? You, uh, a local then? [ Lalo looks over, shoots Ranma a smile, although who knows if Ranma is too focused to see it. ]
Second thing! You got a name? For myself, I'm Eduardo, but you may call me "Lalo".
GUILTY PARTY (PART UNO): YOU CONFESS
It's only when the man also there with him encourages him that Jack finally speaks.]
You can judge. [His voice is still even, despite the slight fear, the confusion. He hates not being able to tap into his powers.]
He looks right at Lalo.] I deserve to be judged.
[Jack takes a deep breath. His eyes are closed at first, then he opens them as he starts to speak.] I've killed people. And even if I didn't mean to, I still did it. I lost my temper. I lost control.
[His usually calm, mellow voice gains a hardness to it.] I'm at fault for those things. For killing Mary Winchester. [His eyes close at the end, because that one hurts the most.]
no subject
Killed people... lost control... immediately, Lalo can't help his mind immediately wandering to Tuco, although Lalo waits to hear the rest before making any assumptions that Tuco's situation is the same as this guy's.
Lalo listens with a neutral expression, although his head inclines slightly, trying to lean in closer as much as the chains will let him. He's definitely intrigued now, like a bloodhound on the hunt, but he also doesn't have near enough information to draw any definitive conclusions about this kid.
One thing is clear, though. This guy is absolutely burdened by guilt... something Lalo considers to be a pointless emotion, but he knows most other people don't feel the same way. He tries his best to be sympathetic, anyway. Voice low. ]
I'm sure there were extenuating circumstances... [ Lalo clears his throat. ] Who is "Mary Winchester?"
no subject
She was the mother of two of my fathers. [He says it with less happiness than he typically does.] I have three dads.
And she was just trying to help. But I couldn't understand what she meant. Couldn't think. I said the wrong thing. And she was gone. Dead.
no subject
Lalo does his best to speak in a soothing voice. ]
Shhh, shhh. It's alright, amigo. Deep breath. [ He waits to see if Jack will continue before he goes on, giving time for Jack to decide to take a breath, or not. But eventually he continues either way. ]
What was she trying to help with? [ They can start there. ]
no subject
[ He's willing to believe that, and naive enough to ask and give Lalo the chance to even reply. This is lack of experience here. ]
She was trying to get me to understand that when I [ how does he even put this into words? It was an uncomfortable moment ] ended Nick to prevent Lucifer from taking him over and being more of a problem that there was a better way. That I should have found one. And she was right. I just couldn't see that, then.
It aggravated me. I thought I had done the right thing, but I hadn't.
no subject
[ Lalo is amused and even slightly charmed by Jack's literalness. This is a very interesting person indeed! He can't wait to see where this conversation goes.
There are still missing pieces to a lot of what Jack is telling him, but Lalo lets that go for a moment. Lalo has never been overly troubled about doing "the right thing", but he understands intellectually that it's something a lot of other people care about even if he can't relate. ]
All we can do is try to do the right thing sometimes. Sometimes what we think is the right thing can have tragic consequences, when we don't have all of the information.
That doesn't mean we're bad people. Does it?
no subject
Maybe not, but I still did bad things. Unintentional or not.
[ Jack can't quite look at anyone else there, not Lalo or the hooded figure. ]
I told Mary to leave me alone. And my powers activated. She ceased to exist. [ He says that with a hollow time, completely lost and confused. It's still shocking. She was just gone. Zapped out of existence. ] I couldn't undo it.
guilty party ( dos )
but, zoro doesn't struggle. he's played this game before. instead he, too, takes as deep of a breath that the chains will allow as he squints into the darkness. or, rather, the eerily putrid green bathing over the space. he doesn't recognize the person across from him, but he hasn't really recognized anyone here yet. zoro's expression is neutral, not a twitch belays the general hostile feeling crawling up from the pit of his stomach.
and, honestly? he's ready to just spill his ""secrets"" or whatever the hell this mask seems to think he's hiding. what's he care? he's done what he's done and there's not much else to say. he doesn't feel guilty about any of it — the people he's killed were terrible people. so what? the other various sundry crimes were necessary. big deal!
but, this other guy seems keen to unburden himself so who is zoro to try and sway him in a different direction. there's a smooth arch to his brow, a tilt to his head, an attempted shrug of one shoulder; unfazed. his tone is even when he finally speaks, but sarcasm flirts around the edges of his words, )
Guess we'll find out.
lmao sorry this is so late, omg.
Interesting.
His response is even more intriguing. It almost feels like a challenge. Not in a bad way, though. In a fun way.
Fun for Lalo, at least.
Out the corner of his eye, he can see it. The eerie green glow. The edges of the masked specter.
But he does his best to focus on Zoro instead. He breaks their gaze first; looks down at the ancient, blood-splattered floor, noticing the mix of old stains and fresh puddles.
Eeeyuck.
He'd drum his fingers idly on the arm of the chair if he could, but his chain bindings make even that much movement difficult. Instead, Lalo just lets his eyes pull back up to meet Zoro's, and hold that gaze. He tries to ignore the interloper, like they aren't even there. He laughs a little, and it's clear his body language would be more animated if his movements weren't so restricted by the chains. ]
Right, then! [ He likes the cut of this kid's jib. ] Let's start with the smallest, shall we? You ever litter? [ He doesn't wait for an answer. ] I do. All the time. Just more convenient, you know? [ Have a slightly chagrined expression, Zoro. Lalo would shrug if he could. Then there's a cough. Lalo's tone shifts, becomes a bit more serious. ]
I sell drugs. My whole family does. There's, uh, no chance you're familiar with the Juarez cartel, are you? The Salamanca family?
Arrival
He's not going to just leave someone asking for help, though, so the boy with the oversized coat and the rifle move over to Lalo.]
Do you need help to get into town?
sorry this is so late, omg.
Understanding the reasons doesn't change the instinctive response, though, so there's maybe a whiff of hesitation when Lalo reaches out a hand for Levi to help him up, if Levi feels so inclined. ]
In town? [ It's news to him that there's a town, but aside his voice briefly spiking upward, questioning, Lalo doesn't miss a beat. ] I would like that. Thank you...?
[ He waits for the kid to supply a name, ready to give his own in turn once Levi has given his. ]
s'ok <3
Oh, uh, sorry. I'm Levi. There's a town but don't expect too much from it.
no subject
A pleasure, Levi. You can call me Lalo. [ He heaves a loud breath, sending a gust of air out. White crystals form, and hang in the air. His voice is a little strained from the pain, but friendly enough. He gives Levi a small smile, amused by the kid's ringing endorsement of the town they're heading towards. ]
This town, I take it you're not from here either? [ But his tone is questioning. He's unsure. After a moment: ]
Do you know how I got here? [ It feels kinda weird to be asking a kid, but hey, it's not like there's anybody else to ask. ]
no subject
No...except maybe for one weird guy nobody's from here. We all just kinda showed up. No one knows how or why.
no subject
"Weird guy?"
no subject
no subject
I... see. [ Lalo doesn't sound like he does see, though. He sounds confused. He winces, flexing his fingers, trying desperately to get some heat back into them. They feel like they're about to snap off. ]
This "old guy"... he have a name?
no subject
He says his name is Methuselah.
[He notices Lalo flexing his fingers and speeds up a bit. He still doesn't know what early stages of frostbite look like, but that probably wasn't a good sign.]
arrival
[Now he's doing some active searching. How many newcomers might get hurt on the way and freeze to death, all because no one thought to look for them? How many people from the first round could he have saved if he had the chance to do this a month ago?
[Lalo, suffering the cold and clearly injured, is Clayton's case-in-point.]
Hey! Yeah, I'm comin'!
[Clayton's slow amble through the snowy forest turns into a heavy jog. He's a younger guy, in his thirties, strong in build but showing his age in the bags under his eyes and the salt in his hastily-trimmed beard. His southeastern accent is pretty intense. There's a friendly smile on his face, but his eyes are quickly looking Lalo over, assessing, and based on the way his brow knits he's not happy with what he sees.]
Yeah--yeah, I can tell. Try not to put any weight on it, eh? [Absolutely no hesitation, Clayton sidles up to Lalo's side to offer support.] There's a town not too far from here, we've got a fire going. C'mon, I'll show you the way.