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singillppl2023-12-06 12:21 am
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.
methuselah's feast;
He'll also never get used to seeing people just sort of appear. March spots the blue fabric easily in the powdery snow, though he's more than a little distracted by the pretty face to look anywhere else. Mostly. His gaze may or may not dip a little to her neckline, so thank God for his sunglasses from home. ]
Yeah, right way. You gotta be freezing.
[ He'll play the gallant gentleman despite the fact that he very much is not: March slides off his coat, clenches his teeth and regrets it the moment a gust hits him, and takes it upon himself to slide it around the pretty stranger's shoulders. ]
Bunch of us gather over here, c'mon.
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She's jarred from that unsettling line of thinking by the man wearing a pair of dark glasses, ones that shield his gaze from her directly and make it somewhat more difficult for her to ascertain where his eyes are — but she schools her expression into something appreciative, which doesn't even require much effort in the face of a helpful stranger. ]
I'm certainly not dressed for the weather. [ She affects a chuckle, one which dissolves into a low hum as he proceeds to drape his coat over her shoulders, her hands rising to reflexively tug it closed over her front even as she can't help but notice his gritted teeth. ]
You're very kind. I only regret I don't have something to offer you in exchange.
[ But the lingering look she gives him is a subtle indication that she could warm him up more than sufficiently by some other means — or is willing to let him think so, for the moment. ]
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[ That one kind of hurts. March loves to get stuff in exchange. Money, usually. It's a knee-jerk reaction. Luckily playing knight in shining armor helps ease the pain and so does that look.
Score. March smiles, doing a lazy half-point to the direction of the community hall, and tries his best to pretend his balls aren't freezing off. ]
They got coffee. You like coffee?
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[ If what he's referring to is the same as kaf in her world, that black and bitter drink that the Seanchan themselves most often prefer, then she can just as easily express a desire for something that isn't quite so strong.
But she does incline herself closer to him, reaching out with an arm that's now tucked into the sleeve of his jacket to lightly link it through one of his. ]
Perhaps the walk won't be quite so unbearable if we share the warmth.
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One day he won't be so predictable. ]
You from a Renn Faire?
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[ Lanfear affects a more bemused chuckle which isn't borne from nothing; the truth is she has absolutely no idea what he's referring to, no frame of reference for what he's asking of her, but based on how he poses the question, perhaps there's something about her appearance that makes him think of something in particular.
The closest thing she can summon in her mind is some sort of festival, and it's not as if she's been to many of those in her more recent existence, apart from the party she'd dragged Rand to. ]
Do I look like I've come from one of those fairs?
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[ There's no judgement in his voice whatsoever: he lives in LA in the 70s. People are almost always dressed up in weird costumes. This girl has the very fortunate privilege of also being a complete fox, though, so March chances a glance at her neckline--just a little--and then keeps those aviators focused on the road to the community hall the rest of the way. ]
There's warmer clothes there, too and--well, less of a welcoming comittee and more, 'hey, we're all fucked,' committee, but they'll probably do a better job of explaining what's going on. I'm Holland, by the way. Holland March."
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[ It isn't the first choice of clothing she would have elected to wear under her own power — but Selene dresses very differently than Lanfear does, with the attitude to match, although she is the same sort of woman who doesn't have any difficulty accepting flattery.
If she is aware of his eyes on her, she doesn't openly remark on it, or draw his attention to her perception of it. Instead, she steadies her grip on his arm, hand reasserting itself against that swell of upper muscle. ]
So you're saying I should come prepared with questions. [ The real dilemma involves which ones she should start with, questions that won't instantly make her look more suspicious. ] Call me Selene.
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Selene. Nice to meet you. Wish it wasn't when it's so cold out I can't feel my balls.
[ Speaking of--cold, not balls-- ]
I'd be careful going anywhere outside of Milton. Other than freezing to death there's wolves, and weird stuff likes to happen when the sky lights up, too. You got any weapons on you? [ Hopefully that won't freak her out? He's not good at this at all. ]
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[ Lanfear chuckles, a rich sound that isn't entirely feigned — especially when he'd gone and done the rather noble thing of lending her his coat in the first place. If she'd been in possession of her power, she might have easily drawn on a weave of Fire to warm the both of them, or enough to make herself more heated to the touch so he could simply put his hands on her instead.
Without it, with the unsettling sensation that she's been shielded — she won't even entertain the possibility that she's been stilled, cut off from the One Power completely — she's as helpless as any other non-channeler, and she can't say she likes it in the slightest. ]
Weapons? [ Her brow furrows, lips affecting a subtle pout. ] Not a one, I'm afraid. Is that something I should try and secure soon?
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Just try not to go out beyond the town. Or if you do, let me know, huh?
[ He's got a little pistol in a shoulder harness, top-of-the-line from 1976. He waggles his eyebrows because he's got aviators on and she can't see his wink, tapping the butt of it. ]
I'll protect you.
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[ She's maintaining a somewhat lighter tone about it, but in truth, it would only benefit Lanfear to know what exists within that space — even if she's not planning on venturing there by herself, without the advantages of her power in easy reach.
Her gaze drops to where his finger taps, and she slips her free hand in that direction, even if she doesn't pull the weapon free of the sheath he keeps it in. Instead, her fingers stretch across his chest, spanning gently, as she smiles up at him. ]
With this?
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And higher.
The problem is he had an answer--a real, genuine answer--but every single thought in his head is gone completely out the window with the way Lanfear's hands just glide across his chest. He supposes there's one good thing about Milton: the ladies are beyond foxy. There's the terrors, and the unknown, and the cold, sure, but there's also raven haired beauties with jawlines to die for and huge-- ]
Yeah. It's not a big deal, I can just keep an eye out for everything for you. I've got pretty good aim, so. You'll be safe.
[ He clears his throat, semi-flexing his not-at-all impressive arms. If anything, he's pretty damn lanky. ]
What were you saying before?
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But it is in her nature, under the guise of Selene, to be somewhat more flirtatious, and the truth is, she'd mostly elected to be this brazen to see how he would react to it, to see if he would politely find a means of declining her overture.
The fact that he doesn't immediately reject her is more encouraging than she might have predicted, and it brings an even broader smile to her lips, one that flashes a display of gleaming white teeth. ]
Nothing of any relevance. But that does lead me to something else I wanted to ask you about. [ She pauses, just long enough to perhaps lead him to wonder what she might venture next. ] Where someone like me could find a safe place to sleep tonight.
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To sleep, huh?
[ becoolbecoolbecoolbecool ]
There are places. There's the community hall where we're going, but, uh... I guess if you wanted I've also got a place nearby and some firewood.
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[ Especially when she's aware of what she looks like — a relatively unassuming woman who doesn't have the advantage of physical strength or an imposing nature to make herself more intimidating, but she knows she's been rendered more helpless without her ability to channel. Frustratingly, it also renders her more dependent on others for various displays of generosity.
It only means that she needs to be more intentional about who she seeks that assistance from and when, but making this man believe that giving her a place to lay her head is his idea feels much more familiar. ]
Are you sure that's alright? [ As if she considers herself a large enough imposition to change his mind, her brow briefly knits with feigned worry. ]
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[ March means it. The woman being extremely attractive helps, of course, but there's also very much the fact that even if he's an asshole and a sleazebag, he does actually care. Mostly. Sort of.
He's not admitting that, though. Instead, he's wishing he had a cigarette. ]
Can't really attest to the glamour of it, but there's an extra bedroom and everything.
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[ And more importantly, it would be a warm place for her to reside until she can decide her next steps, even if she doesn't presently have the faintest idea how she's going to find her way home yet.
But let him think that he's done her a tremendous favor, because to an extent, he has, and that she's going to owe him along similar lines in return. ]
And I'd be so thoroughly indebted to you. [ An implicative glance, lingering on his face for just a moment too long, can speak volumes. ]
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This is going to be very difficult. He holds up a hand and does a little 'pssssh' wave, shaking his head. That seems to expel some of it. Enough that he can talk without running his mouth. ]
Really, don't worry about it. I've got this pad and I usually hole up with Barbie and Ken over in the house next to it--they're kinda hard to miss, they're the blondest people you'll meet. Here--let's get a fire going, huh?
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[ While Lanfear is somewhat surprised by the notion of him having more than one property to his name, it is an answer that bodes well for her eventually having to rely less on others' generosity for keeping under a stable roof.
There's also the implication that he won't always be a presence, if he happens to keep another house, but Lanfear hardly has a problem with keeping herself occupied. Besides, if he's not around as often as she expected him to be, that leaves her with even more opportunity to plan her next moves in private. ]
I'm not always useful at that part of things, but I do know what a strong piece of wood looks like. [ She grins brightly up at him, perhaps a little too brightly given that phrasing. ]
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Are you doing that on purpose?
[ There is a very clear lack of judgement in his voice: a flat, deadpan ask as he finally reaches the door. ]
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[ In Lanfear's defense, any kind of allusions she may or may not be making, any potential innuendoes, are going to escape her current notice since that particular phrasing doesn't exist in her realm.
Whatever she's inadvertently referenced is paired with a brief blinking, a relatively placid expression of neutrality as her gaze leaves him and shifts to the door before them instead. ]
So this is... [ The community hall, her thoughts supply, as she gives the building a lookover. ] Where all of the new arrivals go?
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Except, maybe. A little. A lot. The predictability of men. ]
Yeah. I'll show you around more. But you see the building right there? [ He points with his free hand, just off to the side. Close by. ]
That's the place you could stay. If, y'know. You want.
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I thought we'd already decided that.
[ She doesn't go as far as to imply she'd be living with him, since he's essentially established himself as maintaining other lodgings elsewhere, but she does seize advantage of the arm she has linked through his to briefly nudge herself against his side, chuckling lowly. ]
Unless you need me to seal our bargain officially, but I'm afraid I have very little to offer in exchange at the moment.
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He should be a gentleman. She's scared and alone and in a new world and hey, man, March has to play the gallant night, right? But this is practically a pizza delivery with no money and extra meat scenario. ]
You don't--you don't have to. I don't mind helping you out.
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