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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.
no subject
I guess not.
[ There's a thousand tiny differences he can't help noting, but they're much more alike than not. He's staring, he realizes after a moment, laughing quietly at himself. He drops Vash's hand, tucking his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, stripping off the gloves and running a hand through his own (somewhat muddy and snow-dusted) hair. Two Vashes. Of all the day's strangeness, this might really be the strangest part yet. ]
I don't know what to say. [ At least it's so much warmer in this little church than it was outside. His tattered suit doesn't no a damn thing to keep the wind out, and the hideous orange jacket Vash found for him only covers so much. But in here it's cozy, comfortable... almost nice enough to forget the monster on the other side of that door. ] Pleased to meetcha, I guess?
[ He gaze flicks part Vash to the doorway beyond, and for just that moment his expression goes hard and cold. It passes as quickly as it came, although that friendly smile when he looks back at Vash is less bright, and more weary. ]
Or maybe sorry for th'intrusion. You wouldn't believe the day I've had. [ And it's not over yet. ] To be honest, I'm not sure I do.
no subject
it's a question that goes unanswered, perhaps deliberately so, as vash lets the other go to his brother, to mitigate and quell whatever aftereffects that their encounter has left on knives. it's not going to be easy - if what little he'd seen means anything - but they've always been too optimistic to a fault, too prone to seeing the good in people over the bad.
unruly mop of hair falls over his forehead as vash shakes wolfwood's hand, answering the laugh with his own, quieter one. and if he seems to look the other over, it's only (ostensibly) to check for any further injuries. that's all. nothing else to it. ]
I can only imagine.
[ is that a trick of the wind beginning to pick up outside, rattling at the window frames, or is that a droning sarcasm in vash's voice? well, even if it is, the quickflash smile he shoots towards the other might (hopefully) mitigate whatever sting it has ... the fact is that yes, wolfwood might have it bad, but none of them are having the best of days and it's not even over yet.
there is the birdlike motion again, a quirk of his head that is half curious, half watchful as wolfwood look around - unblinkingly following his gaze to the doorway that his other self has disappeared through, and then back towards him. when their eyes meet, vash just smiles again as though he hadn't seen the way wolfwood's features harden, reaching out a hand again - curling his fingers into the crook of his elbow. it is a light touch, but insistent. ]
Come on. Let's get you warmed up! I'll get the fire going.
no subject
Wolfwood's tried to live by that last tenet for the past year, he really has. And he could explain that he thought this was Hell, that he saw Knives and panicked, that he was so certain that the man's presence here was meant as a punishment for him personally... but none of that changes the fact that he saw Knives across the room and attacked him with intent to kill. Even a heart as forgiving as Vash's might take some time to let that go, he knows, and so he nods, and lets himself be guided. ]
It's just the three of you here? [ --he tries again, somewhat lamely, hunting desperately for a safe topic. ] You don't have the insurance girls tucked away in a side room or anything, do ya?
no subject
Sorry, it's really cold here - [ carefully, as though wolfwood is constructed of fragile glass only barely holding itself together, vash guides him down onto a chair near the fireplace. it is unlit, though there is a bundle of firewood stacked up beside, and vash fusses over the other man for another moment before pulling aside to kneel in front of the grate, picking up the wood and beginning to pack it into the fireplace. ]
I would have got this going sooner if I knew you were going to be here so soon, but ... [ a little shrug, mothing but a loose jerk of his shoulders, and vash ducks his head again as though he's said something he shouldn't. ] Don't worry though! I've had plenty of practice, see!
[ okay, good change of topic. that manages to bring him up short, cutting through the middle of his rambling - and vash blinks, his eyes wide and confused and blank for a second, before he glances up at wolfwood. ]
What insurance girls?
no subject
It's disappointing, he thinks, letting himself be seated by the cold fire. He'd been thinking that he'd stay with Vash -- the other Vash -- wherever the man was staying. He'd have slept on the floor, in the hall, whatever, just to share a roof with him, for the security of having a friend close in a strange place. But Knives lives here, which means Wolfwood can't. He won't. He'll have to go back to the community hall after this, claim a cot for the night, and tomorrow he'll see what places in town are available.
...Wait, what did he say? ]
What do you mean, what insurance girls? [ He knows Knives, and Wolfwood, so surely he knows shorty and the big girl. Doesn't he? ] Milly? And Meryl? They were followin' you around before you and I even met.
no subject
That's what I said, [ a frown starts to furrow in between the set of his brows, and vash, if anything, looks more confused than ever ... at least, until wolfwood mentions a certain name. ]
Oh! I know Meryl! [ his expression brightens slightly, before dipping away; he hopes she was safe - it doesn’t quite feel rigit, to acknowledge his acquaintance with her like this, knowing just what kind of mess he'd left them all in. ] I didn't know she knew anything about insurance ...
[ though, judging by the way she drove that car sometimes, honestly it somehow made a whole lot of sense. ]
no subject
That's how you met. [ In his world, anyway. ] They were chasin' after you to stop you typhoonin' through places, because you were costing Bernardelli Insurance too much money.
[ Meryl without Milly though... What happened to her? Did she not exist in this Vash's world? Has he just not met her yet? Or is it like his shiny green hand -- just a way that their different worlds went different routes.
He'll have to ask Vash about the girls. He hopes they made it. ]
It's a shame you didn't get to meet her. Milly, I mean. She had a big heart. You've liked her.
no subject
well, it isn't as though they had much of a chance to compare any sort of notes, really, with the way they would dance around (and away) from having actual conversations about it ... in any case, vash doesn't appear to be too overly concerned, turning his attention back to fussing over the wood in the fireplace and getting them stacked just right. ]
I guess some things are just different, huh ...
[ milly? he doesn't think he'd met anyone with that name before ... at least, not in the way that wolfwood describes.
he fidgets with the flint, drawing his knuckles through the wood shavings, and doesn't meet the other's eyes. ] Do you, um, know anybody called Roberto, then?
no subject
A chill hits him again, and Wolfwood tucks his hands into his armpits, breathing slow to will the shivers away. It's not that cold in here, really -- the chill is in his heart rather than in his bones, but he'll be fine. He just needs a little time, that's all. ]
No. Never heard of him.
[ He can just barely hear the murmur of voices in the next room, where the other Vash is talking with Knives. When this all turns out to be a fever dream, or the last few thoughts of his dying brain, he won't be at all surprised.
What a weird thing to imagine, though. ]
Is it true? Is Knives really powerless here?
no subject
vash lets out a laugh - hoping that it doesn't sound too awkward and ungainly - and shuffles again, the flint clicking between his fingers. ] Alright, then ... Uh, don't worry about it!
[ the way wolfwood moves - cold and stiff, as if the chill has gotten straight into the marrow of his bones - doesn't escape him, and that's what spurs vash into action - hastily striking the flint once, then twice, until the spark catches at the shavings and begins to light. it flickers against the bottle-green digits, making them shine out briefly as vash piles it close to the wood, and he watches the flame flicker as it start to eat through the wood. ]
Um, yeah. Everyone is ...
[ including himself in that doesn't exactly feel right, though. it isn't as though he had anything useful to begin with.
there's a crackle and a pop, the leftover moisture drying out with the flames as it begins to heat up properly, and vash lets out a relieved sigh, half-turning back to the other man. ]
Sorry, it'll warm up in a minute!
no subject
Is the one in your world like this one?
[ Is there such a thing as a harmless Knives? A kind Knives? The Vashes are similar enough that Wolfwood's sure the answer is no -- this skittish creature with his nervous laugh can't possibly have a brother who's anything but cruel. What a miserable sentence, to be pulled away from your world and still not be able to escape Millions Knives? ]
Has he done the things this one's done?
[ How can you bear to be under the same roof as him, if so? Sure, Vash has an infinite capacity for forgiveness, but some things just shouldn't be forgiven. ]
no subject
bits of twigs crumble away between his fingers as vash fidgets - not meeting wolfwood's eyes and stubbornly keeping his gaze turned towards the fire, seemingly concentrating on stoking it up ... enough to buy him a few more minutes of silence, pretending that he is too busy to answer.
normally, if this were any other situation - if this were any other person, vash would slide out of the situation; find something else to do, keep himself busy outside, anything other than sitting here staring at the notches in the branches where his nails have dug in. ]
He is ... and he isn't.
[ as always, it's hard to make himself talk about nai. it's hard to make himself remember the look in his face. the way his brother looked at him, as though he were something lesser than. something helpless, to be pitied.
vash swallows back the lump in his throat and breathes out a laugh, as weak as it sounds. ]
Come on, we said no fighting, remember?