methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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 I LOVE IT SO MUCH, it's such good food.... Dan Simmons ain't got NOTHING on us!!!!
Although..... it isn't fully a surprise. Not really. He'd dabbled in that thought here and there, but never able to spend too much time thinking into it, not allowing himself to entertain such notions for long. (To dwell on them, to fall into a certain despair about them. There is no point to it, to letting himself think that perhaps some of those men went along with Mr. Hickey willingly (the ones he didn't already know about, at least); it would even be damnable to let himself think of such things without proper evidence.)
But since his arrival to this place, and the arrivals of some of the crew.... the opportunity to learn such truths has been revealed to him, and yet even then he's not gotten too close to it. Not yet. He's had the chance a few times — when speaking with Goodsir, with Hickey himself, to learn more about... what happened, and he'd flinched away from getting too deeply into it. He could not bring himself to directly ask. Did Lieutenant Hodgson willingly go along with it? Did he have a hand in murdering someone? Did he feed on someone?
For out of all those men who'd come up over the hill, who came for Crozier, it was George's appearance that shocked him the most. Truthfully, Edward hasn't even been able to process it.
And so, as he continues to listen to Gibson, that startled expression on his face calms into something that's only severe and thoughtful instead; he stays complete silent, taking in the words as he gazes down at his hands, once more folded into his lap.
There's an ache to so much of this, but something odd and unexpected when Billy gets to the part about thinking that his only chance of survival was to do what he'd done.
(Isn't it so familiar, in its way? Edward abandoned the men his captain forbade him to abandon. He went against those orders. Walked with a group headed towards survival.)
He has to take a few moments after the other man finishes, sitting there, eyes perpetually wet and wounded, but there's no trace of judgment in them. No, when he finally lifts his head to speak again, it's only very softly and sadly. ]
....I am deeply sorry, Mr. Gibson, that you were suffering before any of us realised. I... Looking back, I can see that more of the men may have been. Mr. Morfin....
[ He closes his eyes briefly, mouth tightening into a frown. God, it was horrible, what happened to him. Billy, ill, might have wondered if it was only a matter of time before he found that same fate. In agony, begging for death. And there's much guilt in Edward for it; as one of the highest-ranking officers, he'd been given the best food while it lasted, longer than other crewmen had. He'd had access to their reserves of real meat for longer, consumed less of those tainted cans over time. He hadn't begun to rot as quickly. His own rotting would come much later, hidden beneath the layers of clothing he refused to peel back. Until the end, he'd held onto that officer title, that role, and he knows he is damned for it. ]
I wish.... I could have done more. For you... for the others. ....I have many regrets. They do not leave me, [ he says, quietly. So many regrets. It's so much heaviness. He doesn't know what to do with it. With any of it. All he can do now is sit and talk with the living ghosts of his men, like Gibson and Jopson. Take as much care of them now as he can. Even if it will only ever be too late.
His features tighten for a moment. Billy's words whisper again and again against the shell of his ear, a ghost of their own. 'I do not want you to think of me as a man I am not.'
Edward draws in a deep, aching breath, and then lets it exhale, very slowly. His voice softens again, towards something more gentle. ]
I think of you only as a man who has known horror and desperation that no man should ever know.
All of us... made decisions that we thought to be best. We did what we had to do. It does not make it any easier to carry — I know that weight very well.
....But you are not an indecent man for wanting to survive, William.
[ It's rare that Edward would use first names, but they do come, at times. Here and now, he needs this man to know that he doesn't look at him with criticism or scorn or even much upset at all for his actions. It was all... complicated. Little understands that more than most might.
He'll pause for a long few moments, not rushing Billy through any of these thoughts, giving him a chance to speak again. It's only after those few moments that he'll venture forth with something, carefully, and almost reluctantly. His heart couldn't be heavier in his chest. ]
I do not want to burden you further with these dreadful thoughts, but.... may I ask you something? It is about Lieutenant Hodgson. However, if you cannot speak more of what happened in that camp right now, it is understandable.
no subject
Nothing had been worse than that thought.
But even though Billy knows his reasons why he did it, and even though he knows he'd probably do the same thing all over again even if he'd go back in time, it's not like he doesn't realise what he did. What he contributed to. He fully expects the other to judge him over it, and yet, as the lieutenant continues to speak, he.. doesn't. If Billy was in a less charitable mood, he'd chalk it up to the other's lack of a spine, the kind of petty thoughts that might have crossed his mind during his worse days on the ship, regretting every single life choice that brought him there, stuck in the Arctic and sick.
.. right now, though? Between the food, and clothes, and now the words, despite Billy owing up to his actions..
It makes him think he might have misjudged the lieutenant in some ways. That there was kindness and forgiveness where Billy never expected it to be, never expecting anything from another person, let alone a superior.
He doesn't know what to say to it. He hardly knows how to deal with it. The last thing Billy expected was to somehow survive, and then to end up being cared for and forgiven by a man he actively turned his back on is.. a lot.
Thankfully - and not even on purpose - the other gives him an out. He doesn't have to address the rest of this when he has a direct question to answer. Something a little easier to talk about, relatively speaking. ]
No. I can talk about it. [ His voice is still weak, but the words are clear, even though he's still looking down at the empty bowl rather than over at the other man. ] .. though I can't tell you much, all the same. We only ran into Lieutenant Hodgson a little while before I..
[ .. you know. Billy doesn't have to finish that one, right. He just lets it trail off for a moment before he faintly shakes his head. ]
He didn't join the mutiny from the start. [ Since he figures that's probably what the other wants to know, right? Billy doesn't know what happened after he died, but with Irving already being dead, Hodgson must have been on Little's mind a lot. And since Billy just mentioned that he joined on purpose.. ] .. not that Mr. Hickey had to threaten him either. We found him-- alone. I assume he got separated from your group after the bear's attack. He seemed.. desperate. Hungry. [ Billy is pretty sure the other had been trying to eat his boots, but he'll at least.. spare Little that detail right now.. ] I am fairly sure he would have joined anyone who would offer him food.
[ He pauses. This part isn't really painful to think back on, not as painful as the moment that killed him, but.. well, between the lead poisoning, his current still half-frozen state and the fact he was actively dying back then make his memories a little fuzzy, forcing Billy to think harder. ]
I remember.. him seeming off. He was telling his usual stories. [ Nothing he probably has to elaborate on here either. Both of them knew the other man well, or at least well enough to know Hodgson's penchant for those.. ] But different.
[ Like half the life had been sucked out of him, Billy remembers. ]
... The last thing I remember is the lieutenant talking with Mr. Hickey about food.
[ Of course Billy of all people doesn't know half just how ominous it is to mention THAT.. ]
no subject
(Ever allow himself to eat a fellow crewmate... a friend, no matter how empty his belly may feel, how painful that hollowed-out sensation is, every fibre of one's being screaming for sustenance. He wouldn't, he wouldn't—)
He frowns deeply as he continues to listen, searching William's dulled eyes as he does, holding onto every piece of information he's given. It paints more of the picture he'd already been growing privy to over time, gives clarity to some of it. So Hickey had forged a team of desperate men, collected them all — some preplanned, it seems, but others found, taken advantage of in those lost moments.
That last part that Gibson reveals is.... certainly a deep, deep, discomfort. Edward tries to refrain from letting it into his expression as much as he's able to, barely able to suppress a soft wince, a quiet horror in the dark browns of his eyes. Oh yes, it's so terribly ominous, so distressing — Hickey must have been planning to eat one of the men by then. (Had he already chosen Gibson by that point? Singled him out as the weakest, the sickest, made plans to force Goodsir's hand to cut into the poor man?)
It makes him sick. He sits there for a few long moments, processing things he does not wish to process, gloved hands slowly tightening in his lap as he rubs his fingers together, a way to self-soothe. ]
...I see. Thank you for telling me what you know. There is much I... haven't understood. But this has helped me to see much more of it.
[ He draws in a slow breath, trying to steady himself. ]
Mr. Hickey's corruption influenced so many men.... even Lieutenants and Marines... [ Several of them, but Tozer in particular was a crippling blow. The sergeant of the Marines himself, talked over to Hickey's side.... None of the rest of them had much of a chance, did they. It was too late. Like Hodgson and Gibson, they were starving, sick. Hickey made them think they had hope... had a saviour. Edward's lip curls in disgust, and he finally looks back up to the other man. ]
He is not a man, but a devil. But you are safe from him now. The rest of us won't allow him to be near you again.
[ ....Okay, Edward.
He sighs again, and reaches to gently pat the other man's thin shoulder once more, swallowing back his anger for the moment in favour of what's most important — Gibson's recovery. ]
You are welcome to stay here as long as you need. To eat and rest. I'll fetch whatever you need.
this is a good place to wrap it, i figure! c:
But despite that fact.. he knows the lieutenant is wrong. Hickey is very much a man, just like all of them. Billy has seen too much of the man to view him in any other light, even now. Despite everything he does, Hickey is a man, is incredibly human. Even now.. Billy doesn't feel scared of him, despite his death. Nothing about the thought of the other makes any fear of panic rise within his chest. Instead all he's thinking as he's sitting there is that he has to talk with Hickey, especially if he's here in this place too. Billy has so much to ask him. So much he wants to know.
(Did he enjoy it? Was it revenge for Billy's much earlier betrayal?
Or was it the way everything about Hickey was - a strange kind of transactional love?)
Of course he doesn't say any of it. There's no way Billy is going to spill his guts about that, not to anyone, let alone another lieutenant when one lieutant finding out about it all was the entire cause of the downward spiral.
So instead he swallows, and then slowly manages a: ]
.. thank you, sir.
[ He knows he has to sit here for a while first. Billy isn't sure if he'd be able to rise up onto his feet even if he'd try, not with how weak his body is feeling.
He first needs to regain some strength, and though the care being extended by Little is strange, in ways.. It's also kind of nice in ways Billy doesn't quite know how to deal with right now, except to just accept it.
He'll be here for a while, until he feels well enough to go into town. ]