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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.
arrival
.. except then a voice calls out, and Bigby freezes on the spot. He'd know that voice anywhere. It's the first time he's heard a familiar voice in months. It feels unreal, after all this time and not a single other Fable showing up. Maybe it's this place messing with his head again. Wouldn't be the first time it made him hear things.
But what if it isn't? What if she's really here, and what if she's alone out here in the cold, alone with all the dangerous things that sometimes appear in these woods?
Bigby starts to head over in the direction of the figure, his footsteps quickening the closer he gets without even fully realising he's walking faster.
It means he will quickly become visible to her, once he's closer. Bigby is definitely recognizable as himself. Perhaps not quite as clean-shaven (or, let's be real, clean-stubbled) as the usual, and wearing a thick brown winter coat with the hood up, but Bigby in every single other way - standing there, and staring at her with shock on his face. ]
.. Snow.
[ The name flows out of his mouth instinctively. For a moment, Bigby isn't even thinking about what could have happened back home - did she notice he was gone? - or about everything that went down the last time they saw each other. It's all momentarily faded against the backdrop of having been here for months, against the sheer shock that she's here at all. ]
no subject
Bigby? Oh, good, you’re here.
[ As if she should’ve expected he would be somewhere nearby, as if she should’ve guessed that he would’ve been pulled her right alongside her. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve all ended up in the same place, but at least then she’d been more prepared for it, more understanding of the fact that Fabletown would be their new home out of sheer necessity. She hadn’t heard anything about the Fables needing to be moved again, so why are they here?
So many questions swirl around in her mind, but for now, Snow affords Bigby a more assessing look as he approaches her, that reassured expression clouding over with a furrowed brow, a subtle pursing of lips before she proceeds to give him a summary of where she’s just come from. ]
I woke up in a house back there. Whoever it belongs to hasn’t used it in years. What about you?
no subject
It's impressive. And yet that's not the thought the man finds his mind lingering on for a moment as he stares at her. Instead he's thinking about her exact words. Good, you're here. Despite telling Nerissa back home that he had no clue where he and Snow stood right now after that entire business with the Crooked Man, there's a part of Bigby - almost puppy-like, even if he'd resent that wording - that perks up within himself at the thought that Snow thinks it's good he's here. That she's glad she ran into him, of all people.
The thought doesn't last long. It's not as important in the moment. There's way too much to say here, way too much to explain.
He has to get her to town, he thinks, but-- ]
.. It's been months, Snow. [ He speaks the words slowly, a complicated emotion within them that isn't easy to place. ] I've been here for months.
[ Will she get it? Sure, moving from one world to another isn't new for them, but this way feels different, especially with the difference in time. Snow speaks as if she only saw him yesterday, while he's been here all by himself this entire time.
He snaps himself out of the thought, instead moving to take off his winter coat, holding it out to her without a second thought.
(Yes, he is wearing the usual outfit underneath it. His shirt probably looks even worse than it usually does.) ]
Here, you take it. It's too cold here to walk around like that.
no subject
It takes her an extra beat to really hear what he's saying, her mind whirling with all of the next steps she needs to take while they're standing out in the cold, who they might need to seek out for more answers — and his words finally permeate through her inward planning, prompting her to come right to a halt in front of him, almost mid-stride. ]
You've what?
[ Because a part of her can't really wrap her head around the concept that he's been here that long when she's only just seen him, only just been talking about what's next for Fabletown in the wake of everything that's happened. How is it possible that he could've been there, and here, the entire time?
She almost accepts his coat more mutely, but it's another few seconds for her to even reach out to grab it, fingers slowly closing around the shoulder and drawing it in towards herself, although she doesn't don it right away. ]
I... I didn't know. [ If she had, maybe she could have done something, helped him sooner, ensured he wouldn't be abandoned to this place so far from home. ] I didn't know.
no subject
[ He did think about her while being here, especially when Bigby had no clue what might or might not be going on at home while he was stuck here. A part of him figured that if he really did disappear, most of Fabletown would probably assume the worst of him, that he just abandoned him. None of them would probably find it very surprising.
Except.. Snow. He wondered this entire time what she'd think. If she would go along with that assumption too, or whether she would know better. And here she is now, saying this of all things. It takes him by surprise, and not just because of the conclusion he draws at her words.
No, the surprise is entirely at the implications in them, the hints in her tone. It's almost something like guilt, or worry.
.. for him?
It's so much to contemplate that he can't even really feel the cold in the moment, despite having given up his coat. Instead he just stares at her, like she might vanish the moment he looks away, a mirage of Snow among the snow. ]
Guess time must run differently between this world and our own. [ At least it's a slightly less wild concept to them than it'd be to any given mundy. ] And, uh..
[ A part of him wants to say he's been fine, wants to reassure her. But what if he reads the wrong emotion in that tone? What if she isn't worried, and he'll just look like an idiot telling her to not worry?
In the end it leaves his tone trailing off before Bigby shakes his head, changing tracks a little. ]
I'm sure you must have tons of questions. I can answer them, but.. let's do it on the way. We should get to town, it's not always safe out here.
no subject
[ Even when the words stumble out of her, they're more awkward and fumbling than she would prefer them to be. To her own understanding, there'd been no time at all passed between the last time she'd been in the same room with Bigby and her standing out here with him now — yet she has to reconcile that with the new information that he's actually been trapped here in this world for months, without the ability to let anyone from home know about it.
Strange, that in the moment itself, the only instinct she has is one that nearly overwhelms her — to reach out to him, to verify to herself that he's actually real — before she chooses, instead, to put his coat on, which almost serves the same purpose as it wraps her in his scent. Somehow, the lingering pervasiveness of cigarettes proves a comfort in the here and now. ]
It must have been days in Fabletown, by comparison.
[ When he trails off, she glances up to him, waiting for him to finish that thought, but he ultimately changes course on whatever he'd been about to say, and she can't decide if she's relieved or not by the decision. ]
What do you mean, "it's not always safe"? [ There's also another question begged by that statement — what could the Big Bad Wolf possibly have to contend with out here? — but she doesn't think she needs to voice that one for him to intuit what she isn't asking out loud. ] Have you seen what's out in these woods?
no subject
The question, however, puts a complicated expression on the man's face. ]
Yeah, I have.
[ All of it. The worst of it. Really, if it had just been the wolves, he wouldn't even have bothered to warn her. He can keep those away from her, even with the way he is now. Bigby knows that's where her concern must come from, too - that he's bothering to warn her at all, even though there shouldn't be anything outside of their own community that he can't handle.
.. it's then that it hits him. He didn't even realise. After all, his own chance was so obvious to him the moment he found himself here, but.. of course it wouldn't be that obvious to Snow. Even though she's a Fable, she is human. She doesn't have a part of her taken away from her that's as obvious as the part of him that's gone.
Snow doesn't know.
It makes his expression turn even a little more concerned as he looks over at her. ]
I'm saying it's not safe because.. we're vulnerable here, Snow. I know it sounds ridiculous, but we're not Fables here. Something about this place changed us. We're just as vulnerable as any mundy. [ Which means that smaller things already pose much larger risks to them here than they ever did back home. If Bigby had been a mundy during their investigation back there-- well, he would have died twenty times over, he's sure. ] Over here, I'm just..
[ His voice trails off, but this time he does finish his thought, even though he's looking ahead of them rather than over at her. ]
.. just human.
[ Which is still weird. Even after months, it hasn't stopped feeling like there's a part of him that's missing in a way he can't really explain to anyone, since no one would get it.
He wonders if even Snow would. ]
no subject
Perhaps it's the fact that she's concentrating so heavily on not falling on her butt in the snow that she doesn't notice the concern that shifts over his expression, or the pause he takes before deciding how to bring up what he does next.
The surprise of it is what almost succeeds in making her slip and fall, arms almost comically windmilling out on either side of her as her heel skids across a patch of black ice before her hands seize purchase on the closest source of support she can reach for — him.
It means she's clutching onto his arms as she looks up at him, seeing the way his gaze travels out beyond her, whether because he doesn't want to look at her directly or because he's afraid of what he might see if he does. ]
You mean you're —
[ The wolf, in other words, the part of him that's so inextricable from her understanding of him, the piece that she's always understood to be half of his being — it's just gone. She doesn't have that aspect within herself, doesn't have anything beyond more longevity as a Fable. She's certainly not invulnerable to the possibility of death, and yet there's a keen loss she experiences in the moment itself before she realizes she's feeling it on his behalf. ]
Bigby. [ I'm sorry, is what her eyes say, as they find his, distantly aware that this isn't the best time or place for them to take a pause for such things but needing to communicate it anyway by some small means — never mind the fact that there are times when he seems to know what she's thinking without her even needing to state the words aloud. ]
no subject
The reaction being so instinctive, though, means that he's not even fully realises he's touching her until they're already standing there like that. Both of them holding on to the other, and Snow staring so hard at him that Bigby can practically feel the gaze burning right into him, even though he isn't directly looking at her in return at first.
.. it's his name that makes him look, a moment later.
When she says his name like that, her tone dipping into many more words than she actually speaks out loud, he can't just continue to look off into the distance. Instead his gaze dips a little, his eyes meeting her own. When he witnesses the look in them, it's like he feels something melting inside of him. Bigby stopped expecting sympathy from anyone a long time ago, knowing better than to hope for something impossible-- and yet he can see it here, coming from the person he likes seeing it from the most.
God, he's so glad she's here. The feeling hits him like a freight trein. He missed her so much more than he'd dare to admit to anyone, even to himself, and now she's here, and it's both the best thing and the worst thing that happened in this place - with him being so glad to see her, yet so worried about her being in a place where she could die. For real, this time. ]
.. it's fine.
[ His tone dips in that sort of way that indicates he is downplaying it a little - losing most of what he is sucks - but that he also isn't lying to her entirely. The acknowledgement that this is a shitty situation, but also one they just have to deal with. ]
It's only temporary. All we have to do is figure out how to undo whatever is suppressing our Fable nature here. And I've already been working on gathering information here-- I can tell you all about it. We figured out that mess back home, and we'll figure this out too. [ There's a bit of a hope in there. The hope of together.
After all, he's not going to assume that by default. Not at this point. It's not like everything back home went smoothly between them the entire time, and especially the way things ended have left him awkward, worried about toeing the line between doing what feels right to him and not losing Snow's approval.
But maybe it can be different here. It's just them. Who else do they have to lean on, if not each other? ]
I've been working real hard to try and figure things out here. I wanted to go home. [ Maybe it's exactly because he had no one to tell this to that the words spill over his lips now. Like one word going across the dam is enough to make it crack. ] I had to go back to make sure everything was alright with..
[ You.
With you, he thinks. He knows.
...
He can't say it.
Bigby slowly pulls his hands off her, making sure Snow is actually standing there steadily now. ]
... with Fabletown.
no subject
But then he continues, and she realizes he's already resigned himself to the belief that this won't be permanent — has been holding onto his own form of hope that he'll be able to make it back home for as long as he's already been here. (Meanwhile, Snow's still trying to wrap her mind around that fact, but nothing she sees from him provides any evidence to the contrary, that he's not telling her anything but the truth.) It's all... strangely optimistic where Bigby's concerned, and it makes her gaze soften the longer it lingers on his face. ]
Already started in on your own investigation?
[ She can't resist the gentle jibe, even if her voice doesn't rise below a murmur — not only is she trying to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to them, given that they're still out in the open, but there's no one else here to discern her words but him anyway. Leave it to Bigby, though, to already be making an attempt to figure out exactly what's going on, and she nods once, a little eagerly, when he assures her he'll divulge more information pertaining to what he's learned so far. ]
Well, we're both here now, which means that either the Fables back home are going to start to wonder where we've disappeared to... or it'll be the same thing where no one knows at all.
[ She almost doesn't want to voice the other option, because it makes her feel miserable to even think about — but there's one advantage both of them now have in this place, and it's decidedly not being alone in their unique, unexpected, likely-magical-while-cutting-them-off-from-their-own-magic circumstances.
When he withdraws from her, the lack of warmth suddenly reawakens her to the sense of how cold it is out here, and she reflexively shivers for more than one reason. ]
But you're right. We shouldn't stand around out here when we could be having this same exact conversation in a warmer room. [ She starts off in the direction he'd already been walking in, though she can't stride as confidently as she'd like to in these shoes — but she can give the illusion of looking like a woman who knows what her next steps need to be. ]