December 2023 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

DECEMBER 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 — MISTY FALLS CAVE: The Interlopers go out in search of a hidden cave in the mountains found by Methuselah, which may still contain the hidden stash of a doomsday prepper. However, they get a little more than they bargained for when they venture inside.

PROMPT THREE — SERPENT'S BREATH: Interlopers investigate the mysterious cause of whatever is killing and poisoning the wildlife and vegetation of the area — and discover a supernatural creature is behind it.

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

WHEN: Mid-Decmber.
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 a long time. The fire is cold, the dishes in the sink are pretty 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.

It’s possible you may come across someone here. Another fellow Interloper, 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. Civilisation…?

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 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.

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, even more, still. Just as I thought.” he muses. “I wonder if this is perhaps the new status quo. 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. They bring more of you every so often. 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, 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 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 grilled fish. There's also things like instant mashed potatoes, and tinned vegetables. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast, although newcomers will note from others who have been here some time that this particular feast is less bountiful this time.

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.

He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the time 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.

However, he will speak of something important, and will gladly share with others: “I have been looking for something for you all. There was once a townsfolk I knew of: Matthew. A suspicious, paranoid old miner who was interested in Prepping. He often spoke of the world coming to an end and strived to survive it. He often spoke of a cache hidden in the mountains, where he collected things of value. I have found the place, a hidden cave, but I am unable to get through, myself.”

… Well, he is an old man, after all.

“There are signs outside, so it is promising it is still intact. Perhaps the cache is still there. It might provide something useful for your growing numbers.”

MISTY FALLS CAVE

WHEN: Mid-month, onwards.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: booby traps; claustrophobic situations; potential injury/maiming; potential hyperthermic situations; exploration horror;


Methuselah gives directions to those willing to check out the lead for the old prepper cache. Following the river up from Milton Basin will lead to rugged, difficult pathways up towards Misty Falls — a waterfall, the river source itself. Most of the river is completely frozen with the freezing temperatures, but it is not completely so the closer to the source you go. Misty Falls is certainly idyllic, or it would be perhaps on a fine summer’s day — good for a nice hike. But the place looks desolate in the eternal winter cursing the Northern Territories.

The half-frozen waterfall is a din of sound, but the water itself is incredibly fresh and cooling for those hot and tired from the hike up. Those paying attention might notice a small space between the water and rock, big enough to squeeze through to get behind the waterfall itself. In the small space, the entrance to a small cave can be found. There are faded handmade signs, all in the same hand, reading ‘DANGER KEEP OUT’ and it isn’t too far of a stretch to wonder if perhaps this might be the secret stash of the old miner that Methuselah spoke of.

Venturing into the cave will not be an easy task. It seems the old miner was keen to keep any trespassers out, and most of this comes down to the cave itself. The walls of the cave quickly narrow, with only enough space to walk in single file. Jutting stone will easily make those stumble and trip. Occasionally the cave’s passage becomes narrower, meaning one might have to stoop or even crawl to carry on through. Here and there, the uneven floor dips, and your feet will find themselves in shin-deep frigid water. It’s slow-going, even if the actual passage itself isn’t incredibly long.

But perhaps the worst of all is the pressing darkness. A darkness so black even with lanterns switched off, one’s eyes cannot adjust to it. It is smothering, pressing. The air is stale and damp, you feel small — and the cave itself still presses in on you. The miner also kept a few tricks up his sleeve in order to keep out intruders. There are dead-ends, making it easy to get lost. Trip wires are hidden in the darkness, causing small man-made cave-ins to fall upon unsuspecting heads.

It might be safer, saner to give up and turn back. But persevering will see the cave opening up once more, this time widening into a room. The place is fashioned into some crude shelter. There is furniture, lanterns to be lit.

With more light, the miner’s stash is revealed: the painstaking, time-costing work of a paranoid old recluse. Crates of non-perishable foods, MREs, and bottled water. Medicines and basic medical supplies, flares and tools.

A perfect supply of survival goods, ripe for the taking.

SERPENT'S BREATH

WHEN: Throughout the month.
WHERE: The entirety of the Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of dead animals; malevolent creature; snakes/serpents; poison/airborne toxins; potential poisonings; potential burn injuries; potential (temporary) blinding.


It’s noticed in different ways: perhaps a trail of dead animals stands before you, each one with no particular injury other than what appears to be burned hides and flesh — it is as if the wildlife simply dropped dead, for the most part. Perhaps you notice huge, tunnel-like grooves in the deepest parts of the snow, a few feet in width — as if something long and thick had made its way through to clear a path. More worryingly for some, they might notice trails of rot: destroyed trees, decaying plant life, as if the very earth itself has been scorched in the wake of something passing through, leaving nothing but destruction and devastation.

Something is destroying the flora and fauna of the world. There seems to be no pattern, simply the random trails all over the place. There appears to be no other tracks, other than the long, smooth tunnel-like pathways. Whatever it is, it must be stopped. Resources are so precious in this world, if the beast is allowed to continue then all who live here will soon starve due to lack of animals to hunt and plants to gather.

Following the tunnels is a sure-way to hunt the beast down, although these paths will lead far from town. It is best to go prepared. But soon enough, you may come across the slumbering beast, curled up on the snow or coiled underneath some jutting space of stone along the mountains. You’ll hear and smell it before you see it: the long grumbling snores as it sleeps, and the putrid stench of rot. Everything in you tells you to flee, much like when an animal senses something toxic, or poisoning.

You press on, finally stumbling across the beast: a long, serpent-like dragon, with tremendous horns and fangs, coloured with muted grey scales and huge, glowing, flamed eyes.

The element of surprise will work in your favour to try and kill the beast, but it will give up a good fight. It will take several rounds of fights with it before it will finally be taken down permanently. It moves quickly, with scales like steel. Its eyes and mouth are its weakest spots, as is the soft underbelly of its body — fire will work well on harming this beast, especially with a well aimed shot into its mouth.

Its open mouth is where it holds its most powerful weapon. Not the fangs, no. The very reason why the air smells of rot, why the wildlife lay dead, why the earth decays at your feet: its breath. The beast’s breath is highly toxic, it will burn the skin of those it comes into contact with. Breathing in the fumes will poison those who breathe it in, and will cause a weakening, sickly illness. The breath may even temporarily blind.

These injuries are not fatal, and will heal with time and the basic medical attention available in the world. Victims will require rest for at least a week, depending on how severe the blast of the serpent’s breath. But killing the best will ensure its havoc is brought to an end.

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.

MISTY FALLS CAVE

1. Tools found would be basic survival/camping tools one might expect: knives, hand axes, rope, handsaws, torches, batteries, etc.

SERPENT'S BREATH

1. The Stoor Worm, or Mester Stoor Worm, was a gigantic evil sea serpent of Orcadian folklore, capable of contaminating plants and destroying animals and humans with its putrid breath. Assipattle, the youngest son of a local farmer, defeated the creature by flinging still-burning peat into its mouth. As it died its teeth fell out to become the islands of Orkney, Shetland and the Faroes, and its body became Iceland.

2. It is possible the harvest the beast once it is killed, particularly for its fangs and skin. The skin/scales will provide ample protection to try to use it for armouring themselves. The fangs would provide useful for crafting knives or weapons.

3. It is... technically possible to eat the meat of the beast. Care should be taken in butchering, however. And it is not advised to eat the head.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

Heartman | Death Stranding

[20likes]

i. ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST;
There's a strange sort of feeling that's happening inside of him that he's unused to, a singular thought rattling through his brain that's circumventing everything else: time. He has time here and it's stretching beyond thought, infinite like the countless Beaches he's combed in his sisyphean search. His connection to that other plane and his life's work has been severed. He's stuck here. But he has time.

Heartman focuses on the facts: he has something other than a 21 minute window for things now. It's a feeling that's so new and foreign after so many years that he's completely unsure how to process it. He hardly knows where he is and hardly knows what's happening, having shown up in the cold with no knowledge of how he'd gotten there, having pulled himself towards the light and presumed warmth of what he now understands is the Community Hall. Trying to logic and puzzle what's happening here without any concrete facts is enough to drive a scientist mad if he thinks about it for too long, but hypothesizing and studying is all the brunet knows.

So Heartman gets to work himself almost immediately: the physical muscle memory of movement and the mentality of stay busy that kicks in almost instinctual. It's freezing here, colder than his laboratory and far more rudimentary in design, but there's enough around to warrant proper distractions for him as he takes stock of the situation. There's also people. Not chiralgrams, fake and projected, but actual, real people. A lot of them. A rarity. That's another thing he's finding unnerving, if only because he's completely unused to it.

His busyness mainly comes in the form of observing. He hovers over the supplies, leans in a little too close to the conversations nearby him, always quick with a small flash of an apologetic smile if he gets in the way of someone. It's also easy to catch Heartman watching everyone by the fire, arms crossed over a rather bulky looking yellow AED. Connection and companionship. Admirable qualities to exhibit, and ones that are needed in dire situations, if his experience is anything to go by. In an attempt to feel useful, he'll also be moving around the room and pouring coffee or warm drinks for anyone that looks like they need one.


ii. MISTY FALLS CAVE;
"Perhaps it would be in our best interest if we turned back?"

Heartman's not meant for exploring. His heart may have been 'fixed,' but it's still weak. He's pushed himself quite a bit without a single complaint and he's made it to the waterfall's entrance with his traveling companion, but the unfortunate result is that he's completely winded and already exhausted.

This was probably a mistake. Now more than ever he wishes there were Porters to rely on. Heartman, nonetheless, still wants to try despite his hesitancy: he raises a hand to point at a faded sign urging them of an unknown danger.

"The advice appears to be rather sincere."


iii. WILDCARD;
[ Heartman can be seen mainly in the Community Hall, as well as the Hot Springs where he very much enjoys a nice, relaxing soak. There's also the possibility he'll need help dragging a frozen corpse into one of the cabins, and will have no qualms waving someone down to assist him. If you'd like a personalized starter feel free to DM me! ]

maintiensledroit;

[20likes]

Heartman jolts awake--jolts to life, he assumes--on the soft padding of a couch and is immediately hit by the overwhelming smell of what he can only describe as mustiness. He sits up immediately, eyes wide as they try to focus, body moving automatically like it always does.

A flick of the wrist to access his cuff links. Expedition number...

Heartman's face pulls into a frown the moment he realizes his cufflinks don't work. He twists his wrist again, his frown deepening as his device remains unresponsive, lacking even the soft glow of any light. It's only then he truly looks at his surroundings, and feels his stomach drop with fear as cold as the temperature he's experiencing. He's not in his lab.

Another twist of his wrist, and when that doesn't work to start it up Heartman opts for the tried an true method of smacking it as hard as he can with his other hand. That doesn't work either. He exhales, trying to remain calm, and slowly rises from his spot. He's in a cabin. An unfamiliar cabin, with that overwhelming smell of stale air that causes his nose to wrinkle. He rises fully and stands, steady on his feet, chancing a peek out the window only to be met with snow and wind.

His next steps are to the door despite the cold already sinking into his bones, his breath leaving trails of condensation as he struggles to open the half-frozen slab of wood. With a lot more effort than he should be exerting, he manages to get the heavy door ajar just in time to hear something distant. A bark.

A dog? Heartman tries to open the door even further, and though it's mostly futile he can stick enough of himself out to yell.

"Hello?"

There had been a voice, hadn't there? Loud and ringing. It had said something that seems fuzzy to Heartman in his panic. Interlopers? Was that this? Or was the bark not a dog, but a wolf...

[maintiensledroit]

Fraser is no stranger to being the odd man out – even among his fellow Mounties, he's always been considered a little too traditional, a little too concerned with small details, like not wanting to turn a blind eye to the mass killings of hundreds, perhaps thousands of caribou for the sake of a more efficient dam –

And the same is true here. So far as he can tell, in the short amount of time he's been here, he's the only one who looks over these frozen wastes and breathes the fresh cold air and feels as though he's closer to home than he's been in months.

It helps to have Diefenbaker, of course. He's terribly grateful that whatever brought him here brought the wolf along, also. And now, tromping after Dief in the knee-high drifts of snow, he feels a little of the tension of Chicago slipping away. Here, there are no drug-dealers, no armed thugs – the challenges here are ones he's known since he was a boy.

Up ahead, Diefenbaker pauses, then looks away and barks, and Fraser stops, listening, his breath fogging in the cold until – yes, there it is again. He cups his hands around his mouth and calls back:

"Stay where you are! We're coming to help you!"

Because there's little enough chance the person hallooing might not be in need of help. Dief runs on ahead, and Fraser pushes through the snow after him, both of them moving steadily toward what he can now see is a run-down old cabin, way out here in the woods.

[20likes]

Not a wolf. Something better: an answer. Help. He's not entirely isolated, and Heartman feels the relief flood through him almost instantly. There's a Porter out there, likely someone who might have an explanation as to why he's here and not in his lab and what, exactly, is going on.

Someone who's most likely strong enough to get the door fully open. The figure comes into view, bright red on white snow, and Heartman lifts up his hand to wave as wide as he can as he continues to call out.

"I'm alright, but I appear to be stuck! My short term memory may have also been affected, although I'm not entirely sure!" Very helpful.

methuselah's feast

[alexaandme]

Dom always looks like she needs coffee. Without makeup, she'll look even more bedraggled as the days go by.

"My hero," she says as he refills her mug, then she lifts it at him in a toast and has a gulp. "Here's to not freezing to death."

[20likes]

Heartman's smile is more of a warm beam in Dom's direction as he raises his free hand to give a very enthusiastic thumbs up in response.

"It's the least I can do," he reasons, motioning with his head to the door. "Exploring is... not my forte. Holding down the metaphorical fort, however..."

[alexaandme]

"Takes all types."

She could cite so many examples, they just all seem irrelevant.

"I'm not much for sitting still. Send me out on a hunt any day."

i. arrival

[castitas]

Kate kept busy for the most part; she's thrown herself into helping Methuselah with the latest batch of people to come in from the cold. It keeps her mind occupied, and keeps her feeling helpful — given what little else she can do around her. She's fetching warm water and hot water bottles, helping dish out hot drinks and food, fetching blankets and anything Methuselah needs in assisting him with those who make their way into the Community Hall.

She doesn't recognise the Interloper, and guess it's gotta be one of the new ones that've shown up in time for this feast. But what she does note is the fact he's already up and at 'em, helping dish out drinks. It's not that the help isn't appreciated, but it's the fact that he's barely gotten himself seen to and he's trying to help out.

"Excuse me," mild and timid on the approach, her head tilting slightly and eyes catching on the bright yellow box strapped to his chest. An... AED? Like, that's a heart thing, right? "Please, there's no need. You just got here, you don't need to be pitching in. You should be taking it easy."

Probably more so with the heart thingy.

[20likes]

The politeness is appreciated, Heartman's vaguely surprised to look over and then down. He'd seen the girl around of course--the scientist had made it a point to try to parse the situation and take everything in immediately, if only because it gave his worrying mind something to do. He's not sure what to expect with the other Interlopers yet. The concern is kind.

"Um--" How long has it been since he'd talked to someone that wasn't his age? His brows crease, blinking for a moment as if he's trying to reboot himself. "--Thank you, that's very kind. This situation is quite unusual," he reasons, couching his words. She's a child, after all.

"It's.... difficult to stand still. Have you been here long?" Heartman remains standing, carafe of coffee still in his hand, but he's not opposed to taking a seat if the way he's eyeing a nearby chair is anything to go by.

[castitas]

"I get that. Keeping busy kinda keeps your mind off— well." she gestures vaguely, the rest going unsaid: all of this. Sure, she couldn't blame anyone for finding it hard to stay still, especially when suddenly being stuck here. But there's always something to do, at least.

Still, she offers a smile — a little sad, albeit a kind one. Without a word, she offers to take the carafe from him and gestures for him to sit. She'll pass the carafe to another one of the more long-term Interlopers also helping out before she steps to join him.

"A few months, now." she explains. "I was in the first group of people that came here. This is like... the third time? That people have arrived, I mean. We're not really sure why, though."

[solitarysoul]

Levi's back and forth from the fire in the hall. Mostly he keeps going outside and needing to come back in and warm up. Since he's going in and out, he still has his oversized coat on and rifle slung across his back. No dangers (hopefully?) in the hall, but wolves and bears still lurked in the woods.

He spots Hearthman's AED and blinks at it. He's never seen anything like it before. Was it just a box for things or some weird machine? A weapon? It could be anything, he supposes, in a place like this.

After staring at it for a few moments, the boy speaks up.]

Wh-what is that? The thing on your chest.

[20likes]

[ It's hard not to notice the child, in and out like he's a Porter setting out to deliver something each time. Admirable, Heartman thinks, but other than that it doesn't cross his mind. There's too much flurry of information, of connectedness in the community hall alone that's quite a marvel. The fact that he has a gun doesn't seem strange at all to the scientist: best be prepared in the wilderness, he assumes.

What he's not expecting is the other asking him something. Heartman blinks somewhat, taken aback but not at all upset. Welcoming, even, as he flashes a small apologetic smile. ]

Ah, yes, it's-- um... [ Gloved hands tap on the small yellow box, as if just remembering it's there. ] --It assists me, back home. I'm afraid it's functionally useless here, but old habits, I suppose.

[ He's worried if he takes it off his heart will somehow return to the way it was. ]

[solitarysoul]

It assists you? How?

[He frowns, if it doesn't here, does this guy need some other form of help?]

well if no one else is claiming corpse shenanigans...

[eighteenhalflives]

There's a young man that's been keeping himself very busy since his recent arrival, appearing in the town sometimes among the abandoned houses and other times perhaps patrolling the outskirts. He tends to wear some kind of armor of apparent military make, sunglasses, and a leather jacket, and almost always has his dog at heel. Maybe Heartman recalls seeing him striking up conversations in the Community Hall that first night.

In any case he seems more curious than perturbed at being waved over to a frozen corpse, approaching easily to give the scene a once-over before he asks:

"Not yours, is it?"

And that's...well it's got the tone of good-natured humour, but it's a terrible joke if this happens to be the corpse of someone Heartman cares about.

post apocalyptic canons unite!

[20likes]

Heartman has certainly spied him--he'd mistaken the young man for a Porter at first, the uniform similar from the corner of his eye. The distinct lack of Odradek or any kind of symbol signifying what company he worked for had caused a mild twinge of disappointment.

Nonetheless, he's pleased when the young man comes around, Heartman panting from the effort it takes to exert himself--his heart many be temporarily healed in this mysterious place but it's still quite weak--and offers a pleased, relieved smile.

"Goodness, no," the scientist takes the others' joke completely in stride. "A soon-to-be subject, I hope. If you'd be so kind as to help carry it--" a wave to a nearby cabin, "--I'd be most appreciative."

fallout and death stranding shaking hands: radioactive beached things [solemn nod]

[eighteenhalflives]

"Sure, no problem."

Tobi is slight of build and not particularly strong even taking that into account, but once he's noted the path and any potential obstructions he simply...does as requested, positioning himself opposite Heartman and crouching to leverage it upward, braced against the shoulder, with a comfort and initiative that could perhaps be suggestive of a suspicious amount of familiarity with hauling corpse-shaped objects. "Mind if I ask what for?"

The dog following him watches and wags its tail, but provides no other assistance.

the feast —

[rescapee]

La'an doesn't venture to the Community Hall much, feeling out of place among so many people she hasn't figured out a way to save yet. And she'd especially avoided the building over the past few weeks while she'd been recovering from her illness. Now that she's back on her feet, though, she doesn't hesitate to make the trek across town to observe the new arrivals.

Stepping inside, she brushes off the snow and makes a beeline for the table where the old man always sets up warm drinks. One of those new faces is there waiting for her, and she accepts the mug of coffee with a slightly awkward but cordial smile.

"Thanks," she says, lifting the mug to take a sip. Then, with her eyes falling to the AED, she continues as simply as if she were talking about the weather. "That won't work here. Should we be concerned?"

[20likes]

Heartman seems to match La'an's smile, mirroring it with a similar awkward but polite one of his own. Like calls to like, and Heartman finds himself strangely comforted immediately at the way she greets him. The casual tone seems to help, too, and Heartman looks down at the yellow box strapped to his chest like he's just realizing it's there.

(He is just realizing it's there. It's practically a part of him at this point.)

"Ah... It doesn't appear to be a concern at this point in time, no," he answers nebulously. Lips press into a thin line and he continues.

"I can't seem to bring myself to get rid of it. Just in case. Um... Hello," he greets. "Are you an older arrival?"

[rescapee]

At this point in time isn't the most reassuring phrasing, but given their circumstances, it isn't the worst. If it were something they needed to worry about, she's not entirely sure what could have been done for him. There's no way to get electricity to the device and even batteries are completely useless except as paperweights.

"Yes," La'an confirms with another sip of coffee, trying not to let her feelings about it show. "I was one of the first. That was around four months ago now."

Which hurts to think about, honestly. She misses her crew, her time, her home. There are some days she misses it so much she can barely breathe.

i

[notarat]

Billy sure looks like he could use a warm drink. Judging by his appearance - the frost still seeming to cling to him, even if it's melting at the edges - he hasn't been here for all that much longer than Heartman himself has, too busy trying to get his limbs to thaw from having made the trek over here in the cold to really consider much about the situation itself yet.

So if Heartman pours him one of the drinks and hands him it, Billy will take it with absolutely no hesitation. He'll even take a sip of it right away. Judging by the faint wince in his face, it's too hot, but he doesn't regret it. The fact that it's warming his insides is much more important than some temporary pain.

He holds the palms of his hands against the mug, trying to warm them too. It's only then that the man slowly speaks up, even if it's just with a: "Thank you."

.. the taciturn type, apparently, huh.

[20likes]

Heartman's not used to this many people in the same room unless it's via Chiralgram. Isolation, even self imposed, can do a number on social interactions, and Heartman hadn't been the best people person to begin with. He enjoys science, facts, and searching for answers to questions he isn't sure he even has yet. People are....people. He loves them, but can never quite crack the conversation code.

So Billy's small thank you is met with the opposite end of the social spectrum: Heartman gives the other a very enthusiastic thumbs up and proceeds to decide this man wants to talk to him.

"You're quite welcome, though I'm afraid I can't take a single ounce of credit. I just arrived--It's, ehm, quite a marvel at what everyone here has done with so little, isn't it?"

[notarat]

Ah, yes, Heartman. The thumbs up gesture. Surely something a sailor from the nineteenth century would recognize.

Not that Billy bothers to question it. Really, everything about this situation is strange enough that it's a whole lot easier to brush aside these little things than it would usually be. Suddenly being alive again makes a whole lot of other strange things seem so much less strange in comparison.

Instead he focuses on the things about the other man he can understand, or can try to. Him being new puts him in the same position as Billy, yet the other is going around and providing other people with drinks. Falling back on old habits to try and feel more comfortable, perhaps, or maybe he's trying to keep himself occupied to not have to think so hard about all of this.

Billy doesn't find either of those options unreasonable, given that he's very much feeling out of his own depth here.

His initial answer, however, is just a vaguely affirmative hum. It's not as impressive to him after being stuck out on the ice with very little for years at this point, but he gets it.

"Everyone seems relatively calm for people who have so few answers as to what is going on here," he finally settles on saying. It doesn't sound like a dig towards the people who have been here longer - his tone is a little too neutral for it. Instead it sounds more like an observation. "Everything seems.. confusing."

!!! hot springs

[repatriot]

At least they’re used to hot springs.

Because small and isolated as Milton is, it’s still far more busy and bustling than what they’re accustomed to in the post-Stranding UCA. Sam hates being around people, so he’s usually out hunting meager game and scavenging for supplies. Skirting away from the center of town or the community hall, he’s easy to miss, but he finds himself going to the hot springs often: it’s a good place to rest his aching bones, his weary feet, that shivering cold which seeps in under your skin and red wind-burned cheeks and chapped lips. He’s looking forward to it today, trekking through the cave towards the hot springs, before he emerges to find— it’s already occupied, with a person he recognises.

And for a second it feels like the world is narrowing to a thin dizzying point around him. He thinks of Heartman’s hot tub in the frozen mountains with a tropical backdrop behind it, and he stares blankly at the man in the pool. The sight doesn’t fit.

“What the fuck,” Sam Bridges says, eloquently.

The porter isn’t piled high with boxes like he used to be, but he still looks somewhat familiar: wearing a hiking backpack, bundled up with skin covered from head to toe. It might as well be any other day he’s come bedraggled into Heartman’s lab, bringing the wintry storm with him, stomping off his boots and shaking out the hair plastered to his grim face, wet with snowmelt. He’s standing in the cave now, frowning at the scientist.

ban ban ban ban ban ban (a biba no no)

[20likes]

This world shares a vast amount of qualities to the one Heartman's left. harsh survival conditions, the looming threat of what's around the corner, an aurora borealis just as terrifyingly beautiful as an upside down rainbow. If his sight is to be believed, both worlds also share one Sam Porter Bridges. His unique facial structure and haggard looking eyes are unmistakable, even through Heartman's slightly fogged glasses.

"Sam!" There's a warmness to his voice, a happy sort of relief that even that he couldn't hide even if he wanted to. He's always been very transparent in his emotion, and this is no exception: the scientist sits upright in his excitement as the water sloshes and settles.

It is Sam, truly. That gruff voice, the pointed way of speaking. Heartman's suit is neatly folded in the corner, his nonfunctioning AED on top of it placed delicately like it's some sort of relic. Heartman gestures with both hands, fingers flexing, unable to stop from waving them around.

"You've definitely caught me with my pants down now," Heartman beams. "Ehm--care to join me?"

[repatriot]

Like a nervous tic, Sam’s hand goes to his chest. But there’s no BB tank to reflexively check on; the AED doesn’t work, and Lou isn’t here either. There’s the fleeting urge to just turn on his heel and walk off, wash his hands of this entire situation as being too much, too overwhelming, too complicated to deal with just this moment.

But it’s also startling to see Heartman, like a single thread winding across worlds and beaches and tying them back to their own world. It’s the only vestige of home he has. Plus the cold’s gotten its teeth in too deep; he either needs to get in the goddamn water or walk all the way back to Milton and then camp out in front of someone’s fire for far too long. And it’s hardly the first time he’s sat in a hot spring with someone else out of sheer necessity.

So with a grunt which might mean sure, Sam shrugs out of the hiking backpack and drops it to the ground. Brute practicality drives the next couple minutes: unzipping his winter coat, peeling out of his layers until he’s buck-naked and then, quick as a flash in the shivering cold, plunging into the hot springs. There’s a brusque lack of embarrassment over the potential of being seen nude and vulnerable; he’s too used to his own body being a tool, a vessel, a commodity for the company.

Lurking on the other side of the springs, as far away as he could be, he blinks owlishly at Heartman. Sam looks tired. He always looks tired.

“So. This is weird,” he says. “You woke up here too?”