methuselah (
singmod) wrote in
singillppl2023-12-06 12:21 am
Entry tags:
December 2023 Test Drive Meme
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
1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.
2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.
3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.
4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.
5. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. Tools found would be basic survival/camping tools one might expect: knives, hand axes, rope, handsaws, torches, batteries, etc.
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.

william gibson | the terror (amc)
[ Waking up on your back in the snow is already not the most pleasant of sensations - and perhaps only less so when you've heard some odd voice only a moment before, and got stabbed in the back only a moment before that. It means the man sits up with a jolt of adrenaline before he even realises the rest of his situation. The cold grips him almost instantly, a familiar sensation at this point, but somehow much more intense in this moment-- or maybe that's just because everything suddenly feels a little more intense, from the way his limbs feel like they're suddenly moving much more easily to the spot of dark blood he can see in the snow where he was lying only a moment ago. The man has absolutely no idea where he is - one may assume the afterlife, but the only way for a man who likes men to just live life in his time was always to not really ponder too hard whether or not that really exists at all times - or what's going on, but all he knows is that he doesn't feel like he's dying.
And he'll take that, in the midst of all the confusion. Especially with how long it's been since he hasn't felt like he was getting way too close to actively dying.
Mercifully he does find his coat in the snow, but even after dusting the snow off that and putting it on, it still feels much too cold out here. All he can do is move, even if he's got no clue where he's going, gratefully latching on to the first sign of a trail he spots out in the woods.
Maybe it's out here in the forest that you run into him, or he runs into you. It's hard to tell if he's even a person rather than a ghost at first out here in the snow, tall and thin, not even saying a word as he stares directly at you. The moment you two make eye contact, his posture shifts into something incredibly defensive, like there's no trust to be given away here, while his facial expression is mostly just hard to read. It's only after a moment of awkward staring that he asks: ]
Where is this?
[ Maybe you have no clue either, making this a real fun totally not awkward conversation. Or maybe you do know, and you can help? He doesn't look like he's actively dying of scurvy anymore, sure, but that doesn't mean he looks like he's doing amazing out here in the cold either.
Or maybe you don't find him until the man wanders into town. Probably looking worse than he did back out in the forest, considering the cold he had to move through to get to town in the first place. You may notice something a little awkward about the man's walk, like he isn't really sure how to use his limbs - look, you try having them scurvy-ridden for a long time and then getting used to having flexible limbs again and not look like you're the awkward human incarnation of Bambi - but he's hobbling into town all the same.
He's definitely looking like a popsicle of a man though. That coat clearly isn't helping him much. Maybe you're nice enough to lend him a hand before he straight up collapses onto the streets? ]
( methuselah's feast - cw: blood )
[ The man can definitely be found at the feast later on. Maybe it's the cold that feels like it's got into his limbs all over again, but rather than sitting down at the table, it seems like he's made himself a spot to sit down on the ground in front of the fire instead. There's a plate on his lap that's been filled with food, and the man definitely seems to be digging into it like he hasn't eaten properly for weeks.
Is it the most dignified of sights? No, but honestly, he really doesn't care right now. He's getting to be warm and not hungry - and also, you know, alive - so he's not going to ask for much more.
It's a sight most people could probably ignore, given the sheer amount of people around here eating, but the fact that the back of the man's shirt - now visible since his coat has been discarded and folded up next to him - is absolutely covered with dark blood. It seems mostly dried up, but it doesn't exactly look old. (Though it does perhaps look a little gross, like it's not exactly a healthy blood colour right there.)
Despite the way the man seems to enjoy the warmth of the fire and the food though, there does seem to be more vigilance than one might expect, his head snapping up to look at you the moment he hears footsteps. There's a moment of awkward staring, and for a moment it seems like the man might not speak up at all, but then he does. ]
Is something wrong?
[ Please, no bad news. He's had a rough day. Week. Month. A rough few years, actually-- ]
( misty falls cave )
[ Later in the month, perhaps having adjusted some to this place, he does trek out towards the cave, like he's unsure of whether anyone will bother to actually share the cache after finding it, and determined to secure his own part of it.
Seems like he's not the only one who had the plan though. Even if you didn't come to the cave together, perhaps the man runs into you while you're also in the middle of trying to make your way around. While you're in the middle of attempting to squeeze yourself through one of the more narrow passages, actually, the kind of place where people have to wait and take turns.
After watching you struggle for a moment, he finally speaks up with: ]
Are you managing there?
[ If it wasn't for the carefully neutral tone of voice and look on his face, you'd think he was side-eyeing here.
(He's totally side-eyeing. Please, Billy, we aren't all built like a stick bug.) ]
( wildcard )
[ I'm also completely up for wildcards! Or if you want a personalized starter, let me know, I can always whip something up that might work better..
I'm also not particularly attached to any style of RP, so if you'd rather do prose, just reply in prose and I'll match! ]
methuselah's feast!
He's working on some deer, eating a strip of the charred meat with his fingers, looking around at all the various new arrivals, when he spots a familiar mop of curly hair. And it just...takes Hickey a moment.
Of course it could be Billy. Don't be stupid, others have shown up here. Goodsir's dead. Jopson...hell, he's probably dead, he wasn't looking the best before arrival. Of course another dead man would arrive. It could have easily been Billy. It could have always been Billy.
Still. There's something about this that's entirely unexpected. Hickey doesn't know if this is an accident, a coincidence, or if the gods of this land were actually listening to him when he cursed the fact that none of the men here were his men every time a new sailor showed up (because of course the gods of this land would listen to him. Why wouldn't they?)
He watches Billy for a moment, deciding what to do, before he decides that no matter what, he should at least do something. For now, just do. He'll see where it goes later. So he walks over towards Billy, gives him a little nod and his best 'look at me, I'm so innocent, I didn't just stab you' sort of smile, and sits down on the ground next to him. ]
Finally. A friendly face.
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And yet he sits there so calmly. A reaction that would only make sense to anyone who doesn't have any of the context here. But Billy knows that if the other was planning on stabbing him again, he would've done so already, so what reason is there to be scared?
Not to mention that he knows Hickey. He knows Cornelius. More so than most people, he'd say. There's absolutely nothing surprising to Billy of all people that the other would act like this after what happened, and after getting dragged to who-even-knows-what-the-hell-this-place-is.
He takes stock of the other's face for a moment, the other's expression, and then Billy just looks back down at his plate of food instead, picking at it with his fingers without actually shoving another bite into his mouth just yet. ]
Is it friendly?
[ It's definitely him being petty, showing in all the little signs Hickey would probably recognize easier about him than most people.
(Pettiness, clearly the most proportionate reaction to stabbing.) ]
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Course it's friendly, [ Hickey says with an easy casualness, like this is two friends shooting the shit and not an aggressively tense reunion. ] I've always been friendly to you, Billy. I've always cared.
[ As if to prove that, Hickey takes some of his meat and places it on Billy's plate. See? Look at him. He's nice. He's always been nice. ]
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cw: references to cannibalism, it's the terror, baby!!
cw: continued murder and cannibalism talk, i guess!!!!!
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arrival - in the forest
He'd been curious if what the boy soldier said would hold true. It seems that it has. While Lestat isn't given to the kind of restless dissatisfaction with the earthly unknown that drives the true seekers of grand mysteries, he does have a practical investment in learning the lay of this new land. So, one more small matter established: a trickle of new blood might be counted upon after all.
It would be terribly unkind of him to stint on sharing that knowledge with any of the poor lost souls freshly among their little number, and he's only unkind when the whim strikes him. ]
You're in the forest outside of the township of Milton. Where that is, well, I'm afraid I don't know myself - but I imagine it's certainly nowhere near wherever you came from.
[ He walks lightly over to the stranger from where he stood framed by the trees to offer him his hand to shake, manners gracious even in these rustic surroundings. ]
Lestat de Lioncourt. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr...?
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Or about where Milton is. Or how he got there. Or why this other man seems to have just as little of an idea about either of those things as he himself does.
For a moment Billy stares at the hand like Lestat just thrust out a poisonous snake towards him - which, in Billy standards, is with a mostly neutral expression with just slight suspicion in his eyes - before he actually moves to shake the other's hand. It won't do to immediately piss off the first person he's found in this frozen wasteland, after all. Especially when he'd prefer to not freeze to death right after somehow escaping it. ]
Gibson. [ His answer is short, though, but not necessarily curt. More the impression of a man of few words, rather than someone actively trying to be rude. ] William Gibson.
[ He pulls his hand back after the brief handshake, shoved right back into the coat of his pocket. Even if he did find his coat in the snow, seems like all of his accessoires to protect him against the cold otherwise sure are missing. ]
.. How come you don't know where Milton is, Mr. de Lioncourt? [ Might as well get to the improtant questions. Or rather - this one feels pretty weird and important, so maybe at least this one can come right before 'oh god, how do I get to some place warm here.' ]
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Because I was in your position myself only a month ago. Disorienting, isn't it?
[ He can affect sympathy easily under these conditions - even manage to conjure a modest amount up in truth. Even the dullest of mortal men have their attachments to their habitual spaces. Displacement leaves one vulnerable, a fact Lestat has taken advantage of countless times in his life. What advantage he might find here remains ambiguous, but he's confident in his ability to find it. ]
I do know where the town is from here. It'd be no trouble to show you the way, if you'd care to get in from the cold. [ He assesses the starkness of Gibson's features, stamped with privation. ] They're quite hospitable to newcomers.
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cw: cannibalism
methuselah's feast
He's on his way back to the fire with a little more, carrying a good few logs in his arms. The sight of someone sat by the fire isn't a unusual sight, in all honesty, but as Kieren draws closer there's a patch of something dark against the man's back that makes his footsteps slow to a stop. Jesus, is that—
The man turns, asks him a question. All Kieren can do is stand, his arms still full of firewood, staring like he's seen a ghost — eyes wide in shock and concern. ]
Are... you okay?
[ It strains out of him. The man... seems fine, but.. ]
Your shirt. [ His mouth closes and then opens again. He doesn't even know how to put it lightly, considering. The man's clearly been badly hurt, there's so much blood. ] You're hurt.
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He's not exactly used to getting fussed over, after all.
But the puzzle pieces fall into place when Kieren speaks on. Especially when Billy slowly moves his arm so he's actually able to touch part of his back, finding some of the blood's remnants clinging to his fingers when he pulls his hand back and looks at it. He didn't realise it was there, didn't think about it, but now Kieren is pointing it out, it does make sense. He is still wearing the same shirt as he did when that went down, after all.
It makes his lips twitch faintly before he looks back at Kieren. ]
Not anymore.
[ Which is baffling, but he's trying real hard to not think too hard about everything here before it threatens to break his mind. But Billy is pretty sure he'd feel a lot worse if he did still have a deep stab wound in his back.
He's quiet for a faint moment, unsure what to think about many aspects of this situation, but then he figures he might as well ask. Kieren seems young, sure, but he also doesn't seem like anyone who's new to this situation. ]
.. is that normal?
[ Which feels like an insane question, but, you know, surely this can't only be happening to him. Unless this is the absolute strangest fever dream he's having while he's dying. ]
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I— I don't know. [ His voice is quiet, but it's honestly answered. Plenty of people have turned up injured to this place, but then there's other things too — the fact he's been here for months and still not turned rabid despite a lack of daily dose of Neurotriptyline. ]
To be honest, I don't really know what counts as... 'normal', anymore. Not in this place.
[ And Kieren has no right to talk about anything normal when he's anything but. ]
Are— are you sure you don't need a doctor, or something? I— I think there's a couple of people who have medical knowledge.
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i'm thinking we could maybe wrap this one?
yes, of course!! here we go, we can wrap or you can add one more, i'm fine either way! c:
methusaleh's feast
Goodsir makes a point of going to the feast to find out what's going on, meet any new arrivals, and so forth, although he tends to arrive rather later than most, and he doesn't stay any longer than is strictly necessary. It may be that there's someone he's trying to avoid.
And so today he arrives as the feast is winding down and glances around the hall, taking in the familiar residents at a glance, making a note of the new people.
When he sees Billy Gibson he goes white as a sheet. His legs won't move, he can barely breathe.
Oh no.
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.. he doesn't expect it to be a familiar person. Or the one person where it'd make sense that he'd be getting this kind of shocked, gawking look from. It's the last thing Billy remembers, after all. Hell, if it wasn't for the long trek to town between then and now, it probably would have startled him more to see Goodsir's shocked face again, the last thing he saw before he--
It leaves an awkward moment or two where they're definitely both staring, the food on the plate on the man's lap going completely untouched despite the way he was getting it down way too quickly only a few moments ago.
Then he breaks the silence, even if it's just with a:
".. doctor."
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"No—" he blurts out. If ever I was a doctor I am one no longer. He stops. "That is—I—"
He looks away and drags his hand over his face. What do you say to a man you as good as condemned to death, and then watched and held on to him as he died?
"When did you arrive?" he asks. A stupid question, but the easiest thing to say.
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arrival — into town!
When he returns to town, he's stopping by the Community Center to check in, see if any more supplies are needed for those seeking warmth and shelter. After the storm that so recently ravaged this place, some things are in even more demand, and when someone mentions that they'll be needing more firewood soon, Edward's immediately jumping at the chance; he has plenty stocked at his own cabin.
He's heading back that way when he sees a lone figure out on the streets, tall and thin and moving a bit strangely. The lieutenant heads straight for him, not hesitating, calling out— ]
Sir? Do you need some assistance? I am—....
[ ....His words fall off, eyes widening as there's a sharp hitch of breath within his chest, painful. He recognises the figure; of course he does. And by now he has seen several of the other men make an appearance here, but each one is a fresh ghost, and Edward can't help immediately thinking to what he knows of this man's fate. A horror that one can barely imagine. ]
.....Mr. Gibson?
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Billy might be absolutely freezing after the long trek that was going from the middle of these forests over here to town, but even under those circumstances, he definitely recognizes the man approaching him. You don't serve a very small and specific group of men without being able to recognize them in virtually any situation, after all. Even though the light isn't exactly ideal at this point, and even though Billy's pretty sure he's freezing bad enough that he can't even move the hands he's shoved deep within his pockets to try and protect them from the cold, he recognizes Edward Little immediately. ]
.. Lieutenant.
[ His voice sounds a little shaky - most likely to the fact that he very much looks like he's freezing - but he doesn't pretend he doesn't recognize the other. There'd be no point.
Even though running into lieutenant Little of all people here - somehow, but Billy isn't bothering to question that part just yet, more concerned with wanting to warm up than any thoughts about what's going on here in the first place - isn't exactly the most convenient thing to happen. Not when Billy is very much part of a mutiny, and when Billy knows enough about the other man to know just how loyal he is to the captain in comparison.
It makes him instinctively fall back on what he knows as a steward. Be unremarkable. Unnoticable. He lowers his head a little, even though it doesn't do much, considering Billy's height.. ]
Do you-- [ It still doesn't sound like it's easy for him to speak. ] Is there some place to warm up?
[ He's really hoping the other will actually help point him towards that first, because Billy doesn't know how much he's got left in him to actually be able to continue standing out here in the cold for any potential mutiny scolding talk or anything along those lines (or potentially even worse).. ]
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He looks even worse now, so thin, sallow, ill. Little's reminded of Jopson's state when he'd so freshly arrived, more corpse than man. ]
My god. It really is you.
[ He's rushing forwards then, and he's immediately peeling his greatcoat from his shoulders, which he'll put over the taller man's as he approaches him, nodding encouragingly. ]
Here, Mr. Gibson — my cabin's not far from here.
[ There was once a time when offering his steward his coat would be unthinkable — not because Little would never wish to help out a man standing there freezing, but because it simply isn't done, and there typically wouldn't be a time in which it is necessary. But it clearly is now, and he's staying close to the other in case he needs support as he walks; it wouldn't be the first time Edward had to help one of his weak crewmates to safety. The poor man looks ready to keel over. ]
It's warm there — there's fire, wood. Blankets.
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cw: description of a stabbing
cw: more stabby descriptions
gosh i'm sorry this is a NOVEL.... dan simmons, we're coming for you!!!
NO I LOVE IT SO MUCH, it's such good food.... Dan Simmons ain't got NOTHING on us!!!!
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this is a good place to wrap it, i figure! c:
Cave
Y-yeah. I'll be through in a sec.
cw: talk of (accidental) shooting
Maybe it's why he's waiting for Levi in the first place, rather than moving on by himself. It's good to have someone with you who can shoot a wild animal if it appears. ]
Don't try to go too fast. [ It's not an order or an admonishment in the slightest. Billy's tone sounds too mild for it. Not necessarily meek, but more just not very intense. ] You don't accidentally want to set that off.
[ Please, Billy has died enough times for one lifetime, thank you.. Death by accidental stray bullet is the last thing he wants here. ]
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[He doesn't want to waste bullets. Or let anything hiding in the cave that someone is coming in. Or start a cave it? How did cave ins work anyway? No, no, that wasn't important now.]
Its wet here. Be careful when you come through.
[No standing water, not yet, just enough to make things slippery. He inches through until the crack they're traversing widens into more of a room. Somewhere they could both fit, at least. He steps away from the passage and looks back, waiting for Billy to get through...and making sure nothing follows him.]
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Misty falls cave
Oi, it's not my fault I've got tits and you don't. I'm almost through.
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It might have been a little more visibly shocking to Billy if he were still entirely new, but now he's been here for just a little bit, he at least has a little bit more context as to why women would talk about tits so casually, something they'd never do in the time and place he comes from.. (And-- let's be real, women are a bit of a mystery in general to William Gibson of all people.)
So even though it's still surprising, it's the level of surprise where Billy - practiced at shoving down emotions - doesn't seem to react much with his face. A twitch, at most, before he speaks up again with: ]
I was just making sure you weren't stuck.
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Arrival
Randvi shivers, and yells to be heard over the wind:] I’m not certain how we’re here, but I think this is Norway. Are you from England as well?
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On the other hand, it would be nice to have some answers, rather than more questions. Especially when he isn't even really sure how he's alive right now. ]
Yes. [ He answers, similarly raising his voice, though perhaps still being a little less loud than Randvi. Billy definitely was not made to be this loud.
And sure, he could remedy the need to yell by walking a little closer than her, but while he's still so unsure of the situation and hesitant to trust, he's staying right where he is, tugging his coat a little tighter around his form. ]
What is-- [ Hold on, give him a second to think. He doesn't want to give away too much about himself or his previous situation, just in case, but.. ] What is the last thing you remember? Before this.
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cw: mention of blood
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Arrival
It made him look inhuman upon first glance. More than one person here had thought him to be a ghost or monster of some sort when they'd first encountered him, assumptions he hadn't bothered to correct. Rorschach thrived on his reputation of being mysterious. The more questions people had about him, the more they were likely to leave him alone.
There was a long silence that stretched out as he considered the question asked. Never one much for conversation, it always took him a while to answer when talking with people, given how atrophied his verbal skills were.]
Good question. Might be Hell.
[The words, spoken in a deep, growling rasp that sounded a bit like what would happen if a tiger learned to talk were spoken in a flat tone that was completely serious. Rorschach was not joking. One of the theories he'd since the beginning is that this was some sort of icy Hell or Purgatory. But the lack of children made him lean more towards the former than the latter.]
cw: mention of stabbing in narration
And then you run into Rorschach of all people. The mask would be one thing, strange enough by itself, but it's actually somehow moving all by itself.
That is currently Billy's reality. It makes the other's words sound a whole lot more believable. More believable than they'd be if they were coming from someone else. Even if the hell lieutenant Irving always spoke of was a lot more fiery than icy, it does seem like a whole lot of factors are coming together here specifically to wig Billy out.
He isn't freaking out though. Not outwardly, anyway, though it might just be that he's too cold to really use up that much energy here. Instead he stares at Rorschach and the other's strange, strange mask with the most uncertain look ever on his own face. ]
.. are you serious?
[ Yes, Rorschach sounds serious, he knows, but Billy is having a hard time processing any of this here. ]
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and that's a wrap! c: thank you!!