October 2023 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

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

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.

2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.

3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.

4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.

5. More information about Milton can be found here.

GUILTY PARTY

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.

OFF THE BEATEN TRACK

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.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

[bigbaddy]

"Not mine."

If only it was his dog.. :(

Desires for canine companionship aside though, it does seem like the other really doesn't know what's going on with the dog either, if Louis' words are anything to go by. The other's attitude about it seems too real for it to be some big lie. So that means the other probably just ran into it out here.

Bigby pauses for a moment, then slowly shakes his head.

"'sides, I think they're going to end up eating pretty well all the same if you stick out here like this at this time of night." Granted, most wolves don't randomly eat people.

But with some of their behaviour Bigby has seen the past month, it's anyone's guess at this point. Even the wolf expert - you know, from actual life experience - doesn't know what the hell is going on with their mindset anymore.

[flambeaux]

A dog lover? Maybe... Admittedly, having a dog to help with hunting could be a boon. Louis isn't particularly a dog person, so he wouldn't know.

"Wolves don't usually mess with people. We're too much trouble." Even as he says this, he's unsure. He's heard inklings of wildlife being crazy, along with electrical instruments. Louis has to wonder about effects on humans (and vampires).

"You lookin' to find a hunting dog? Not so sure about that one. He was more interested in getting me to follow--I think."

That's his theory, for in the distance a bark can be heard, and a black four-legged shape emerges teasingly from over a snow-covered hillock.

[bigbaddy]

Bigby is about to mention that the wolves here sure do love messing with people - because he knows Louis is right about his assessment when it comes to wolves in general, but Bigby was also quickly proven wrong in his own assumption that the dogs would at least leave the town alone.

Still, they do seem to have calmed down since the other month. And considering the other thing Louis brings up here, Bigby figures it's something that can wait for another time without being dangerous right now.

Because he really wants to think about this dog instead, especially as he can see it all the way over there now. A long while of trying to chase down this thing's tracks, and now it's just.. here.

He stares at the dog for a moment or two, but then looks at Louis.

"You tried following it yet then?"

[flambeaux]

"…I’m not so limber in the snow," he admits with a realistic wince. City boy… What he doesn’t admit is that he was trying to catch the dog, not follow him.

"If you want him, he’s all yours. I’d be interested in seeing how you do it though."

He’s changed his mind about solitude. Maybe Louis can use this guy’s company as wolf deterrent and learn something about catching an animal. Worst case, Louis returns home with nothing and dines only on rats. Ugh.

[bigbaddy]

"Sure," Bigby says, almost casually so - it's only the man's gruff expression that keeps that simple world from being fully casual.

But he does sound just a little bit too confident about his ability to catch this dog or tell where it's going. Typical case of hubris. But it's not like Bigby has to think he can't when this is one of the few things he's good at. (You know - right alongside fighting fights he really didn't want to fight.)

So he's already starting to move through the snow in the dog's direction. The creature seems to just be standing there for a moment, rather than attempting to run away, though Bigby isn't exactly close yet..

And regardless of whether Louis "not so limber in the snow" de Pointe du Lac follows him or not, Bigby does call out to ask: "You never get out of town or something?"

Not like he can read thoughts, but the implication of Louis' initial words is city boy..

[flambeaux]

He stomps determinedly after him. Louis has the gait of a large cat trying to take the stairs or a praying mantis trying to walk on flat ground—an otherwise graceful apex predator out of his element.

“This look like a stroll in the bayou to you?” he asks while scrunching his nose. Does this guy think that everywhere snows? “Otherwise I’m usually in my car, on a boat, or a train. Ain’t no snow like this in New Orleans either. Most we get is a few inches, rarely. We got enough goin’ on with the storms.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac,” he adds, the habit of introducing himself by full name like a gentleman businessman persistent as ever.

Even Louis can tell the dog seems to be leading them rather than truly trying to run away. Louis wonders what he’s showing them, now that dog blood is off the dinner menu. He hurries to catch up, and that is his downfall—right into a ravine with an entrance cleverly disguised by bushes. He rolls ungainly until he comes to a painful stop that promises to hurt more the next day. There is a rock wedged against his back, a branch broken under his side, and snow frosting him all over.

The embarrassment hurts more than the bruises and what he suspects is a twisted ankle.

[bigbaddy]

Well, at least that explains something here. Bigby might not be as used to the mundy world as mundies themselves are, but he does know that it tends to snow up in New York City where he is way more often than down in the south of the country. And that's where New Orleans is..

.. or.. probably is? Look, mundy topography may not be Bigby's strongest suit, okay.

But before he even has a whole lot of time to really think about that or the other's name, there's the sound of something. It makes Bigby's gaze snap away from the dog and back over his shoulder, just enough to see that Louis has completely disappeared from his sight after that racket of noise behind him.

"Louis?!"

Look, at least having the name now actually helps! Talk about a timely introduction, right.

Bigby is raising his voice, probably loud enough for the other to hear despite the tumble, and slowly starts stepping in the direction of where the guy would've been last, the dog momentarily forgotten.

[flambeaux]

Just his luck that the moment he introduces himself, he takes a nasty spill. The snow doesn't mean much when there are also rocks and ice and random vegetation out to get him specifically. Louis tries to rise, gets as far as his knees, but he finds his ankle buckles under his weight. He's sure his ankle would hurt more if he weren't so ice cold. Small mercies.

The wind blows through the trees. It sounds like laughter, but Louis is used to finding both beauty and mockery in the nature around him.

"Watch your step," he calls up irritably before he tries and fails to rise again. He's reluctant to admit he can't walk all the way back to town as he is.

[bigbaddy]

The warning helps - right alongside the fact that Louis falling there in the first place cleared some of the snow around the spot he initially dropped, making the fact that there's a ravine right there a whole lot more obvious.

It means that Bigby doesn't also take a tumble, instead stopping right at the spot where Louis fell, then leaning over with a frown to look at just how far the other went. Seeing Louis' form right there also means Bigby wouldn't even have to ask how the other's doing. He can already see it's not great.

It'd be easy to turn away, to try and find the dog again, to just leave Louis to deal with this, but--

No matter what Bigby thinks of himself, it objectively speaking isn't who he is. So the moment he sees the sight, he's already figuring out how to deal with it.

"Alright, don't move."

Not that the man gives any more explanation than that. After he says it, he's already moving to - carefully - get down to where Louis is, thankfully used enough to covering rough terrain to not stumble and take a fall himself. It does mean it takes a few moments to get to the other's side, but.. well, that's better than both of them getting screwed over and freezing out here, right.

Especially since Bigby manages to reach Louis in one piece after said few moments.

"Can't walk?" It seems like it, but maybe there's a different problem Bigby is overlooking right now.

[flambeaux]

Louis isn't especially tall, but he conveys the image of an awkwardly sprawled upturned insect with beetle-green eyes. Louis's misfortune is another man's treasure, and he hates the way Bigby easily sidles up to the spot without mishap.

Louis either stubbornly justifies and thinks too highly of himself, or he is filled with self-loathing. Rarely is there an in-between. At the moment, he is thinking very poorly of himself, knowing he has to wait for the other's assistance and hating being weak in front of a stranger.

"If I could walk, I'd be doin' it," he grumbles, holding his throbbing ankle.

He has to think for a few moments why he feels so testy. It's been too long since he felt like this. A vampire's healing powers mean they have to be very injured to be incapacitated. Up until now, he had walked through the world impervious for decades. He only had to worry about the sun and humans cottoning on to his nature.

And of course, it brings up the last time he had trouble walking, and that is one of the worst memories he can have while a man is standing over him. He goes very still, very aware of having lost his hold on his walking stick. (It's lying a few feet away.)

[bigbaddy]

At least the grumbling does nothing to turn Bigby off. He's gotten worse from people he was trying to help, really, and most of those people actually knew him. A stranger who's clearly in a bad situation getting testy with him doesn't even register on the scale of annoyances in comparison.

"Alright, c'mon then."

Bigby moves. First he turns his back towards Louis now he's next to the guy, and then moves to squat down. Even if Bigby doesn't verbalize what he wants to happen here, it's pretty obvious, right?

Because even if Louis may be a little bit too old for a piggyback ride, Bigby is a very practical man. And if Louis isn't going to walk by himself, then this is the only way to get the other out of here. It helps that Louis isn't too tall, and it also helps that while Bigby isn't at his usual Fable level of strength, he's still a strong guy. Strong enough to carry another guy on his back, at least, if Louis were just to climb on.

"We haven't got all day."

[flambeaux]

Louis looks at the base of Bigby's neck. He can't help it. He's a vampire, they look at necks. Bigby is turned away from him, vulnerable. Louis doesn't realize he had cloaked himself in a frozen suffocation of nervousness until it fell away.

Bigby is tall enough that Louis's ankle isn't in danger of catching in the snow, or else Louis would have advised an army carry. Or is it a fireman carry? Louis is neither of those professions. Louis remembers carrying Claudia in his arms away from the fire... Putting her on his back just for fun, back when she was the age for it...

"It's night," he corrects uselessly as he clambers onto him with his three good limbs. He wraps his arms around his broad shoulders and curls his fingers inward so his nails won't cause harm.

"It's not broken, or I'd be unable to move it at all." Small victories. He recalls Claudia nursing him back to health after worse.

"Stupid dog. How am I supposed to do anything now?" Clearly he has places to go, people to see, things to do.

[bigbaddy]

"Okay."

The singular word has a bit of a sigh to it - like it's almost more breath than a word being exhaled as Bigby moves up. It's not the smoothest movement, since Louis on his back is quite a bit of weight, but Bigby can handle it. He just has to get used to it. It's been a bit since he's carried anything this big - most of the wildlife is a whole lot smaller than Louis, after all.

But Bigby does start to move. Without any real complaint, other than to follow that sighed 'okay' up with--

"I think we're gonna need a little bit less complaining going on here while I'm doing this."

Is Bigby good enough to carry an injured person back to town, even if he doesn't know them very well?

Sure.

But he's not a good enough person to endure whining the entire way back, alright. You can't do that to him. Don't make him drop you like a sack of potatoes, Louis.

"If you want to talk, at least.. I dunno, tell me something about yourself, or whatever." That's what.. normal people do when talking, right.. Probably..

Not like Bigby's had a whole lot of socialisation in his life, let alone human socialisation.

[flambeaux]

Louis is an older brother. He grew up wanting to care for and spoil his siblings, and he became the executor of the family estate when his father passed. He often forgets to take a break from dedication to make time just for himself. When the rug is suddenly pulled from under him like this, and he is faced with the prospect of being a useless burden, he gets testy.

"Sure," he says, rolling his eyes just because he knows Bigby can't see that. He's cutting his dourness with humor, but it's a fine edge. "I was just about to thank you, gallant knight, brave soldier. What is the name of my savior?"

He spots his things sunk in the snow and adds, "I've found my hat and cane." Not like he could have grabbed them on his own without crawling--or worse, hopping.

[bigbaddy]

There's silence from Bigby.

Not a very long one, but it's definitely a sign the man is thinking about something, right before he finally speaks up with: "How attached to those things are you?"

He may be weighing the trouble of having to try and balance the other guy on his back while trying to grab said things from the snow versus the trouble of having to carry Louis all the way back to town while the other will most likely continue to complain about the things having been left behind. The second one sure is starting to feel worse, especially with how much complaining tends to wear on Bigby's mind..

Maybe he'll give you his name in a moment, Louis. Or maybe he's decided to ignore that question altogether, given how stupidly dramatic it's asked.

Either way, seems like he's focused on this question for now. Practical things first.

[flambeaux]

Uh-oh. Louis prepared for an insult, but he gets something almost hilarious instead. It's something Claudia might say. Louis doesn't laugh, only because it's not the time, and his things are on the line. The cane is defense, and the hat is dignity.

"Very," is his sure answer, and he heckles him no more. Unlike Lestat, Louis knows when the limits of another's patience have been pushed enough. Lestat doesn't care about pushing through people. He moves through the world like a predator, and humans his prey. Louis must care.

"If you lower us, I can grab them with my hands. They still work fine." Since Bigby's are currently occupied. Louis uses the practical voice he was accustomed to using at work.

[bigbaddy]

Bigby grunts. It's probably him agreeing, even if he doesn't sound too happy about it.. But the latter might not be as important as the former, right? Especially since he does move right over - first to the cane, then to the hat - lowering himself each time so the objects are within reach of Louis.

Better hold onto them, Louis, because Bigby is already moving to walk once more after he's sure the other has grabbed them. He isn't going to waste more time out here in the cold when he could be back in the village.

"I sure hope you don't have other requests, princess."

Please, Bigby.. Is sass your only way of coping with the current situation..

im dying lol

[flambeaux]

Louis is pretty sure a grunt is assent. He gets the feeling that Bigby refusing would be more straightforward, like dropping him in the snow. Louis does an awkward shuffling of the items into one hand and hurriedly grips Bigby with the other as Bigby starts their journey with a quickness.

"Nothing I can think of. You call every man you pick up in the snow 'princess'?"

It doesn't count as sass, he's just repeating what Bigby said! (It counts as sass.)

isn't it just the most lovely compliment you've ever received, louis.... (◕‿◕)♡

[bigbaddy]

"No. Just those who are princesses."

.. in another context, this might actually be a compliment. Especially since Bigby knows princesses! Hell, he's actually terribly in love with one! They're all great and lovely and beautiful.

Except that's definitely not the kind of princess Bigby is talking about, considering his tone here. No, it might be relating to the entire other side of royalty he's gotten to know very, very well ever since he stopped being a wolf roaming around in nature and started being a guy who had to solve their shit most days.

This doesn't feel too different from that, as he's stomping through the snow with Louis on his back.

"You think I'm wrong about that one?"

(✿◡‿◡)

[flambeaux]

Louis isn't a princess; he isn't even a prince. He inherited no title or throne, only his father's failing business in sugar. He doesn't even have the house he grew up in anymore. He doesn't swan through society like a prince either; he always has to watch himself.

Louis says wisely, "You know as well as I do that to call the man carryin' me 'wrong' is to invite catastrophe," in the form of a face full of snow. "If you want to be Prince Charming that badly, who am I to stop you? Or the merciful Huntsman in the woods, or whatever else strikes your fancy..."

Bigby is clearly an expert on charm, surely. However, Louis is not completely immune to being swept away by a large muscular man. Pain in his ankle aside, it's a silver lining.

[bigbaddy]

Despite the fact that Bigby clearly in all aspects is truly a grownass man, the sound he lets out after Louis speaks wouldn't be too strange if it were coming from a teenager, just a little bit more gruff. But gruffness aside, it's definitely the groan of a teenager who just heard someone say the most cringe thing they've ever heard in their lives.

After all, why - of all possible examples - did Louis have to manage those two. Really? Snow's shitty ex and then Woody on top of it? If Bigby didn't know any better, he'd say Louis was doing it on purpose just to piss him off. The only reason he doesn't just drop the other into the snow and leave him there is the fact that Bigby knows all people here are just damn mundies.

"You think the Huntsman was merciful?"

Is this a weird thing to complain about to a mundy who clearly doesn't have context?

Yes.

But Bigby is so annoyed by the idea that he stops giving a damn, just saying it anyway.

[flambeaux]

"Been a while since I read fairy tales." Claudia had long outgrown them. "The story goes he spared Snow White after the Queen ordered her murder. Dunno about any other huntsmen. You read another version?"

He figures it's polite to ask, given Bigby's response. For all he knows, there could be. Louis clearly doesn't share Bigby's intensity about this. He doesn't see why he should. Louis is in for a rude awakening when he finds out that not only is everyone around here from different times, but also different species.

[bigbaddy]

"Sure, those types are great at making themselves seem like heroes."

Bitter? Bigby? W-What do you mean, he isn't bitter whatsoever! That is clearly why he's going on the absolutely dumbest rant possible at the absolutely dumbest time possible for it.

Because he's not bitter. Because he's not carrying any grudges or anything!!

"He probably just wanted to get it on with her, or had some other kinda self-interest going on. Most of the time those types just wander the woods looking for people to rob. Never trust 'em."

[flambeaux]

"I'd like to read whatever book you're writin'," says Louis, genuinely entertained despite the context he lacks and Bigby's huge bee in his bonnet. "There are men regarded as heroes who have actually killed swathes of innocent folks. Cortés, Napoléon..."

He flexes his fingers against the cold, but also to loosen them up in case he needs to defend himself from the dangers of the woods.

"So, of course, you're just wanderin' the woods out of selflessness, not lookin' for people to rob?"

Bigby just left himself wide open for that one.

[bigbaddy]

Without even hesitating for a single moment, he deadpans: "Your cane isn't that interesting to me."

Sure, Bigby might have left himself wide open, but apparently he's not above just directly throwing that ball straight back at Louis. Even as he's still carrying the other on his back, Bigby's heavy footsteps against the snow echoing between sentences.

"I was looking for that dog."