methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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singillppl2023-08-10 12:13 am
singmod) wrote in singillppl2023-08-10 12:13 am
Entry tags:
August 2023 Test Drive Meme
AUGUST 2023 TDM
PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A group of newcomers 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.
PROMPT TWO — HOPE NOBODY NEEDS THIS ANYMORE: Once recovered from their journey, newcomers are free to explore the town of Milton for supplies and find any signs of the townsfolk.
PROMPT THREE — THE SIREN OF MILTON BASIN: A mysterious woman haunts the frozen lake of the Milton Basin, trying to lure newcomers to their deaths.
ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST
WHEN: Day One.
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 days, maybe longer. The fire is cold, the dishes in the sink are a little mouldy. 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.
But it won’t be long until you see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire.
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. As you head into the outskirts and 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, are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up. Other than those heading in the same direction, towards the smoke, you won’t find any townsfolk coming to greet you, or even looking at you from behind curtains. … Where is everyone?
Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the smoke 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.
“It seems like a great deal of you have come.” he muses finally. “I am Methuselah. I welcome you Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. Please, warm yourselves. Eat. Get your bearings. Mother Nature has not been kind to you.”
The room is dim, lit mostly by the weak 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, places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold or any injuries. Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long, foldable tables laden with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen.
There are canisters with hot herbal teas and coffee, along with soup and stew and trays of charred moose, deer and rabbit meats, 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.
If you ask him where you are, he will simply respond: “This is Milton, of the Northern Territories.”
If you ask how you came to be here, he will shake his head: “Something has changed. The sky, it was… full of light. The Flare. I felt you coming, a great arrival. But I cannot say for certain how, or why you are here.”
He is regretful, genuinely so. He wishes he had more answers for you, but he does not. Instead he will simply insist you rest, get warm and eat. There is plenty to go around. Eventually, when you feel well enough, Methuselah will gesture to the door: “When you are ready and able, explore the town. Many left, others could not make it out. I have found no one but the dead. They will have no use of the place now, perhaps you might in the meantime.”
HOPE NOBODY NEEDS THIS ANYMORE
WHEN: First couple of weeks since arrival.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: frozen dead bodies, unexplained deaths, suicide, murder.
Other than Methuselah in the Hall, the town of Milton is void of life. While not a particularly large town, there’s a few stores and even a gas station. Life here is rustic. Function over form. Homes are simple but sturdy and warm, it’s a rugged place and one can easily deduce that the folk living here led simple, self-sufficient lives.
Commercial buildings and stores of note include a bank and post office, a hunting/fishing supply store, a grocery store, and a clothing store. There is even a church just on the outskirts of town. The buildings are ripe for picking, with most of them still with the doors unlocked, including the residential buildings. Others are locked, but can be broken into easily enough. A few are even trickier, with some of them boarded up or with entrances blocked. In terms of contents, a third of the residential buildings seem to be almost empty, as if the owners moved out long ago. There might still be things left behind of use: old, warm clothes good for the wintery weather, tools and cooking utensils — but little in terms of food. Even if the former residents move some time ago, they didn’t completely empty their homes.
Most of the homes in Milton seem to be left as if the owner stepped out only a short while ago, and with very little disturbance. Some houses, however, seem to be abandoned in a hurry, with a mess of items strewn about in some last-minute dash to grab essentials: keys, identification, treasured personal items, supplies for a quick exit. Cupboards are typically filled with an abundance of canned goods, and some chilled goods might have survived in the cold weather within the fridge-freezers, but it might be a gamble if one wants to try and eat them. Any and all electronics within homes: televisions, computers, mobile-phones — although dated, will all appear cracked and damaged, and will not function or turn out at all. The same will go for any vehicles around the town: there is no hope of starting any of them.
Diaries and journals kept by the former residents may remark on a change in the weather, with the cold and harsh climate becoming more hostile as of late. Others remark strange lights in the skies, dating several weeks or so ago, strange noises in the air, issues with power and electrical items. Some make mentions of changes to the wildlife, with wolves coming close to the town even when they had never done so before. One or two mention problems on the Mainland, with increasing difficulty of reaching out to loved ones who don’t live in the Northern Territories, or deliveries being unable to arrive. The growing trend is that something odd and terrible has been happening, although no one can truly explain what, and the problems have been growing increasingly worse and worse up to the final entries. You might note that the actual years and dates might not line up with your own: the current year given in these entries is 2014.
The newcomers are free to take over these homes, if they wish. No one appears to be stopping them, and even Methuselah seems to shrug about moving in. And as he’d mentioned, he has found no one but the dead: and plenty of them can be found.
Bodies of the town’s former residence can be found scattered over the town. In homes, in stores, out in the snow. They appear still relatively fresh, although it may be hard to tell if it’s from the cold or if it’s from very little time passing. Most appear to have died from cold exposure, some appear to have simply dropped dead on the spot. Others may be found with a gun in hand. Some, worryingly, appear to have perished by another’s hand. You won’t find the entirety of the town’s population, but there’ll be at least several dozen. Men, women, children.
Methuselah seems to have begun laying the dead to rest, but there’s too many for one man to do. Maybe you can work out what to do with them, try to bury them in their backyards, or try to take them to the churchyard.
THE SIREN OF MILTON BASIN
WHEN: Until the next Aurora.
WHERE: Milton Basin.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mental manipulation, malevolent mythical creatures, falling through ice, attempted drowning/possible successful drowning, potential character death.
Those who venture further south of the town will find themselves traversing the steep, winding paths down towards the Milton Basin. The way down is treacherous, but if enough care is taken you should be able to make it down in one piece. The water is just about completely frozen over down here, thick and sturdy enough to walk over for the most part. Within the Basin there’s more wildlife to be found: deer and rabbit are plenty. And there’s even plenty of foragables, too.
Out on the water are two small ice-fishing cabins, enough to fit one or two people inside comfortably, which hold a few forgotten supplies to try out some ice-fishing if you want to see if anything bites. Both even hold little log burners to keep warm. An old hunter’s shack can be found along the water’s edge, for those not quite brave enough to travel out onto the ice, to take shelter in for when the weather gets a little too difficult, with an old log burner still working within it.
But it’s calm down here, for the most part. Peaceful even. It’s an excellent place for fishing and hunting, and a little more sheltered from the freezing winds.
Until you hear the voice. Something soft and feminine, echoing across the ice. The Basin helps to amplify the sound, and for a long time you can’t quite be sure of where exactly it’s coming from. It’s singing, she is singing. Something old, in a language you can’t quite understand. Maybe it’s not even a language at all, but simply melodic vocalizations. It’s... beautiful, you’ve never heard anything like it before in your life.
And then you see her: a woman standing upon the frozen waters of the Basin. You realise she’s probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life, even if you can’t quite even begin to describe her. She appears different to everyone who beholds her, some one might see her hair is long and dark, others might see her with neat red curls. Some swear her skin is dark and rich, that looks almost plum when the light hits it just so, others claim it to be cool-toned that glistens like sunlight on snow. Whatever someone might find aesthetically pleasing is how she’ll appear, and even then to describe her to others will bring you at a loss for words. And she’s singing… to you, for you.
You’re compelled to go to her, although you can’t explain why. You’re drawn to approach her, to hear her better, see her better. Your feet carry you onto the ice, out into the midst of the Basin. You ignore the calls of everyone and anyone around you, fixated on the woman before you. She smiles when you’re close enough, beckons you a little closer.
… Then everything changes. Without warning, the woman leaps for you, her face contorting into something hideous, mouth opening to scream to reveal rows upon rows of tiny, needle-like teeth. She collides with you, and the force (paired with the slippery ice below you) is enough to send you off your feet. As you fall back, the ice cracks beneath you with an almighty sound, plunging you into the frigid depths below.
The woman fights to put you beneath the water’s surface, those needle-like teeth bared like some ferocious beast. She can be fought off easily enough, but she might just drown you before you’re able to. If you’re lucky, someone might be able to help pull you out. Tools or weapons made of iron or silver are especially harmful to her.
Once you’re pulled from the water, getting somewhere warm will be the utmost priority — otherwise the cold will kill you quicker than the woman would. The woman, you’ll find, will have vanished, and the ice where you’d fallen will have restored itself, as if it had never been broken at all.
FAQs
1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. If asked how he knew that the Newcomers were arriving, he concedes that although it is a strange thing to know, it is much like how one knows a storm is coming.
1. Characters are welcome to take up residency in any of the homes of Milton. Methuselah will strongly advise characters to leave a huge, dilapidated house — known as Milton House — well alone, due to extensive fire damage.
2. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. Characters with hearing impairments will not be susceptible to the Siren's song, or may only be somewhat susceptible depending, but may be entranced to a degree by looking at the Siren. However, this will be far easier to snap out of.
2. The Siren cannot be killed, only fought off. She will disappear for a length of time to recover before she attempts to lure her next victim.
no subject
[If only, she knew what thoughts were running through the young man's head. As for herself, she's focused entirely on the tasks that lay ahead of them as a group. She doesn't know what happened to kill so many but she knows that disaster can strike in an instant and come at any time. And she's determined to prepare herself and any others that choose to follow her lead for that eventuality.]
I'd love to learn how to set traps if it's no trouble. I know how to prepare game for meals but I don't know much about the steps taken before it gets to my kitchen.
no subject
His distrust for her has instantly been entirely outweighed by his gratitude for someone who can and will turn a bird into dinner.]
Well, come and look, then, I'll show you. You'll need a knife and some twine, but those were both easy to find in town. [Everyone else seemed to be more interested in 'guhns' and 'cannit food'. Huaisang remains skeptical about the metal cylinders that people were hoarding as 'food'. He doesn't actually know how sealing food in jars works for pickling and preserves, but from what relatively little he knows, putting it in metal seems deeply stupid.]
Do you think there are many who have been whisked away here? The old man Metuzheleh made it sound like we were the first and this is all new.
no subject
[Much like a manor offers a small view of the world outside, so does being stuck in a remote and inhospitable location. Just what could be happening beyond the horizon is anyone's guess and she doesn't like to dive too deeply into conjecture without evidence to support it.
For now, she'll just focus on learning more about these traps. Learning new ways to keep their basic needs fulfilled seems like a better use of time and energy.]
no subject
That would imply Huaisang has ascended to godhood. He really didn't think ascending to godhood would be like this, so he's inclined to rule that possibility out entirely.
He shows her the basic spring design of the trap, which depends upon a small tree or low branch which can be used to serve as the spring part, enough to pull the string taut around a bird's ankle.] If we can get or make some more baskets like the ones you have, we can do a better design which will mean a basket dropping down on top of the prey. Then it's more likely to work and could also catch things other than birds.
no subject
I think I understand but I may need to practice a few times to get it down. As for baskets, I'm sure there's more to be found in town if we look hard enough. Or at least, things that could be repurposed as them.
[The mention of making them, though, has her thinking. She has little skill with bambooworking, even if any was to be found in this place. But she has some basic knowledge of weaving just in general. With enough practice and persistence, she might be able to braid something that be could be used.]
We might be able to weave something together with materials by braiding them.
no subject
[Leaving the trap as it is, Huaisang continues along, looking for plants that he recognizes. Fortunately the flora isn't entirely unfamiliar. Even though he's never had to do real foraging, he's spent enough time in the forests tracking birds that he knows a few basic things about plants to avoid and a very few plants that are safe.
Brightening as he sees something he recognizes, Huaisang beckons her over to a thorny tangle.] Look, it's a rosebush.
[It doesn't look like much in all the snow, leaves gone, but Huaisang plucks one of the rosehips and nibbles carefully at the side of it, confirming that the taste is indeed what he expects. He plucks another and holds it out to Yanli.] Just eat the rind, the fuzzy seeds in the center aren't any fun. Do you get these in Yunmeng? They're all over the place in the mountains.
no subject
[It had been hard sometimes, trying to keep close watch over her shidi growing up any making sure no one put anything inedible or potentiall dangerous in their mouths. And it's a big part of why Yanli's been hesitant to put anything she doesn't recognize in her basket. It'd be a terrible thing to unknowingly poison someone while meaning to help them instead.]
Thank you for your lessons, Young Master Nie. I'll try my best to remember what to look for in the future.
[Wilderness survival isn't her area of expertise by far but she's determined to get by whatever way she can without her brothers to help her.]
no subject
He feels so absolutely out of his depth here, completely distraught at being isolated and alone, surrounded by probably-convicts with strange eyes and strange hair, capable of producing the most flawless glass he's ever seen for their windows but incapable of producing any kind of decent tea. He had to be shown how to open their doors, which involve a bizarre twisting knob. So he's a little desperate to cling to the very few things he does understand and recognize. Like rosehips.]
You can... you can infuse them. For medicine. It cools the body and keeps your veins healthy. [Or is that plums?? He's not sure. And she probably already knows this already. His breath is starting to come shallow and fast as he panics.]
no subject
Seeing his rising panic, Jiang Yanli sits her basket down on the snow, careful to avoid any traps in the area. It might be forward of her to reach out to take his hands in hers considering she's never met Nie Huaisang before today but it's what she does with her shidi when they start to get too nervous or agitated. She's a tactile person and in her experience, sometimes the quickly way to ground someone in the present is through physical touch.]
That's really good knowledge, Young Master Nie. I'm not sure anyone else here knows that. I'd love to learn more from you if you are willing to teach.
[She gives him a gentle, warm smile of encouragement. She doesn't know him but she doesn't need to know him to want to soothe his distress.]
What are some other things you know? I'm sure we can find a way to put it to use here.
no subject
I don't know. I don't know anything.
[But that's not entirely true, is it? He knows about birds and tracking or trapping them, and he's already learned that he's actually better than many of the convicts here when it comes to basic mountain and wilderness survival. Huaisang had always resisted any lesson he didn't choose for himself, but still, he knew how to build a fire. He'd had to be shown how to use the wondrous little flint-and-oil boxes called 'lighters', but he was shocked that others didn't know how to pile tinder and logs in the correct order and how to stoke the sparks into lasting flames. He knew how to walk on icy ground without falling, even though he was used to being able to use his lightness skill to flit over the top of snowdrifts.]
I know how to hunt birds, [he reiterates, but it's with a more decisive little nod. That skill is not nothing, and he includes in that the knowledge of how to navigate mountains in any season in order to do that. So, they'll do that. And he'll maybe be able to find some other treasures along the way. There could be wild bees out here, with honey, and they might find more of those huts or houses that are further away from the main town. So he points up to direct her gaze to the tree branches, explaining what to watch for in order to spot birds nests or beehives. After a couple of minutes of this, he remembers that the seeds in pine cones can be eaten, and that's pretty easy and straightforward, isn't it? He's pretty sure that's a thing, and even though he's never done it, he doesn't think it can possibly be that complicated.] Do you know how to harvest pine nuts?