February 2024 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

FEBRUARY 2024 TDM

PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: Yet another 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 — OF FAIR FORTUNE: After spell of bad luck, finally, the Interlopers find A Very Good (albeit slightly spooky) Boy.

PROMPT THREE — BAD PICKINGS: An error is made when foraging for mushrooms that have been altered by the Aurora makes for some interesting situations for the Interlopers.

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

WHEN: Mid-month.
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 several weeks, maybe longer. The fire is stone cold, the dishes in the sink are mouldy — it's possible the place has been ransacked, as if they've gone through the drawers and cupboards looking for something. 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. Interlopers who arrive during the month of February will find themselves especially likely of falling foul to accidental injuries and the like. It's as if the bad luck of finding yourself in this place only gets much worse. Maybe you get yourself horrendously more lost than you mean to, maybe you end up with a sprained wrist or ankle after a fall, torn clothing from fighting through the thicker parts of the wilderness.

But soon enough, you'll be able to find a path to town. A little more worse for wear, but alive. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused — battered from the journey. 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.

Or it’s possible you may come across someone else here. Someone who looks far better prepared to deal with the freezing cold and frozen landscape, 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. Civilization...?

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 then 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. Several dozen at most, but no more. Some of them will direct you to the Community Hall, tell you to head there — you've been expected.

There is a sombre mood to the town. Although you can't quite place why, maybe you should ask?

Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a community hall, by the looks of it. 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, but looks sad. He smiles warmly despite the sadness in him, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.

“Another batch of poor souls from the wilds.” he nods gravely. No, this is not the first time that this has happened. “I am Methuselah. I welcome you Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. The lights are changing things, bringing more of you here. Come, we must get you warm and fed. Mother Nature has not been kind.”

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, and while it seems there's a few people already living here, there's enough space for those in need of them. There's 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 laden 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 perhaps a rare canister of coffee, along with soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus some grilled fish, instant mashed potatoes, and tinned vegetables. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast. The old man has been busy. And 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 very troubled, thoughtful. Much has been happening. The others from town will eventually trail in too, to eat and warm themselves, and search among the new faces.

He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the town and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much, his mood is... low, mournful. but perhaps you might be able to get some answers from those fellow arrivals who’ve been in this place for some time now.

This time, if he is approached, particularly by those who have been in Milton for some time, he will frown in thought. He is… considering something. Finally, he will speak:

“I had hoped that the secret cache I and your fellow Newcomers had found two months past would be enough until the spring comes.” He hesitates for a moment, his gaze moving to one of the many windows of the Community Hall. “If she ever arrives, that is.”

He doesn’t believe it will.

“More and more of you come. Life will continue to get harder with the numbers rising.” Methuselah explains. “Milton is but one town, and the way out to the south is blocked.”

He means the road out — the one that follows out of town, past the gas station and through the mountains. The tunneled road ends there, caved in with snow and stone. There is no way out that way. Methuselah is quiet for a few moments.

“... There must be another way out. For all of our sakes. It must be found."

OF FAIR FORTUNE

WHEN: The month of February.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts, Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: otherworldly animal;

The Interlopers have discovered that it is not best to trust the canines in this world. The wolves and volatile, aggressive — prone to attacking the town, people. There has even been an instance of a dog leading Interlopers off the beaten track some months ago, into trips and falls and all sorts of mischief. To come across any sort of dog these days would draw suspicion, perhaps even aggression from Interlopers.

And certainly, coming across this particular dog is enough to turn plenty around and start heading in the opposite direction.

There is something…. Otherworldly about this dog. In terms of breed, one might recognise it to look a great deal like an Old English Sheepdog — but far bigger and hardier. It almost looks as if moss and vines are matted in its long fur, which seems ridiculous — but it’s true enough. The dog does not bark, but instead will stop and look at you silently when you come across one another. If approached, it will not run off, but it does not want to be petted and prefers to keep a respectable distance between you and it.

Then, it will turn to look in one direction and begin heading that way. It looks as if it wants to take you somewhere, but it won’t run off for you to catch up. It keeps to your side, silent and steady as you head through the snow, the woods. Wherever you’re going, there seems to be no rush in getting there.

It’s a little unnerving: where did this dog come from? Why does it look so… strange? Where is it going? Where is it taking you? But even with these questions, it doesn’t seem like you’ll find much in terms of answers, not at first.

Soon enough, you’ll find it. It’s different for everyone, but it seems like it all has some recurring theme. Perhaps out in the cold wilds of the Northern Territories, you’re in desperate need of shelter or warmth — you and the dog will find yourselves facing an abandoned cabin, a place of safety from the cold, perhaps with warmer clothing within. Or perhaps the dog may lead you to some secret stash: a metal cache half-hidden in the snow, a small stone cairn — with vital loot hidden within: matches, flares, maybe even food. It may even lead you to foragable foods: mushrooms, berries or of the like — all safe to consume.

Whatever the strange dog leads you to, it is a fortune. A small one, but a fortune nonetheless. It seems as if it wanted to bring you to something to aid you in your time here. Upon finding whatever it is the dog leads you to, the dog disappears — never to be seen again.

BAD PICKINGS

WHEN: Mid-month onwards for a few weeks.
WHERE: The entirety of the Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: altered food/foraged foods; drugs/hallucinogens / negative hallucinogenic trips; severely altered/warped moods; temporary amnesia; personality switches; loss of senses

The Northern Territories may be harsh, difficult conditions to survive in, but certainly not impossible. There is an abundance of wildlife, hardy enough to withstand the weather — even in the extreme, unpredictable times such as these. Foraging will soon come to be a staple for those stuck here in this world, and is just as important as hunting down any deer or rabbit. Flora is not only useful in terms of sustenance, but in its use in medicines and tinctures.

Mushrooms can be found here and there in particular areas: taking advantage of the wet, rotten wood of downed trees, or nestled in the sheltered undergrowth of the more densely wooded areas where it’s a little more suitable for fungi to grow. But not even the flora of this world is safe following the recent Auroras. The world is changing, and for the next few weeks — foraged mushrooms will have some… interesting effects, when consumed.

Interlopers that come across these mushrooms in the wilds will find themselves compelled to pick and eat these mushrooms right away. They're perfectly fine to eat raw, just more enjoyable to eat once cooked.

The effects of the mushrooms will last between eight hours to a full day, depending on how much was consumed. Nothing can be done to alleviate symptoms. You will feel incredibly hungover the day after the effects have subsided, and feel completely fine after that. The Aurora’s influence on mushrooms is only temporary, and the mushrooms will cease their effects after a few weeks.

Reishi mushrooms This mushroom will temporarily take away one of your five senses: sight, touch, smell, taste or hearing. You may find yourself feeling completely numb to touch; or unable to hear or see anything.

Oyster mushrooms Eating one of these mushrooms will give you temporary amnesia. You may forget yourself, things about your life, even your own name. Or maybe you will forget those around you. Or perhaps both.

Black Morel Eating this mushroom will seem to switch your personality to its complete opposite. Introverted sorts will become extroverted, those prone to anger will become more calm and chilled out, cheerful sorts will become more morose — and vice-versa.

Chanterelles Your mood is lifted and you become more cheerful and affectionate with those around you. You may even become more enamoured with the next person you happen to meet, regardless of your feelings towards them previously or your own orientation/attractions.

Amethyst Laccaria There is nothing supernatural or strange that happens when this mushroom is consumed. You just have a super bad hallucinogenic trip of your own horrible making. This mushroom is literally a nightmare. Sorry about that.

FAQs

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

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.

OF FAIR FORTUNE

1. Please Do Not Pet That Dog.

BAD PICKINGS

1. Interlopers that pick a variety of the mushrooms and cook them together to eat will suffer the effects of whichever mushroom was in the largest quantity.

2. The mushrooms are fine to eat raw, and characters will feel compelled to eat them raw.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

QUESTIONS

[singmod]

Ask them here.

[farseen]

Just to double check-- Shin-Ah has a pet squirrel, called Ao. Can she come along?

Alexander Hilbert | Wolf 359 | ota!

[tarakan]

arrival: first moments
Hilbert awakens in the middle of a forest, just outside of town. Snow lands on his glasses, as he pushes himself up from the ground. He's wearing an orange spacesuit, emblazoned with the corporate logo of 'Goddard Futuristics' and a patch giving his name as 'A. Hilbert.'

And he's back on Earth. That...what? For someone who's used to being in charge of things, who views the entire world through a harsh, clinical lens, who believes that no matter what the world throws at him, he can power though it with stubbornness and determination, even this is throwing him for a loop. Already he's taking in stimuli, painting a picture of his surroundings. Cold. Not a problem, he is Russian, he is used to cold. Russia is cold and space is even colder. No, the problem is that his jumpsuit is too thin and he doesn't know where this cold is. Forest, with buildings visible in the distance. Small town? Keep it together, take in the surroundings, piece all this out and remain calm.

Hilbert takes a step forward towards the town...and then very quickly remembers that right. This is Earth. Earth has gravity. His body is still used to a lack of gravity. Hmm. Adjustment period will be needed.

If you're lucky, you get to see a bald man in his 50s wipe the fuck out as Hilbert takes one step and then immediately faceplants into the snow.

arrival: methuselah's feast
It takes longer than he'd like to admit, but eventually, Hilbert makes his way to the community center. He's bundled up in a blanket because this man totally wiped out a few more times before getting the hang of gravity. And he's gingerly sipping a mug of hot tea—which, annoyingly, keeps fogging up his glasses. It soon settles into a routine. Take a few sips of the tea, set it down, wipe off the condensation on his glasses.

After a few rounds of this, Hilbert looks down at his glasses after wiping them off, frowns slightly, then turns to the nearest person. "What type of basic conveniences have been found?" he asks. "Specifically asking about glasses cleaner, though soap and water will do in pinch."

Hilbert's voice is very deep with a very noticeable Russian accent. His tone is no-nonsense. No pleasantries, no 'hey, how are you doing,' no 'wow this situation is weird.' Of course situation is weird, why would he mention that this situation was weird? He just wants the information and just wants it now.

bad pickings. cw: amnesia
"It is oyster mushroom," Hilbert points out, as he looks down at the mushrooms. "Perfectly safe for human consumption. That being said, if you find psilocybe azurescens, best not to eat that one." A pause. "But tell me if you find it, mushroom has fascinating properties, could easily synthesize it as possible anesthetic..."

It's obvious Hilbert is about to go off on a long, nerdy scientific rant (while also not really telling anyone what psilocybe azurescens actually looks like, ya big dummy), interrupted by him casually eating one of the oyster mushrooms before said big nerdy rant continues. The foraging continues for a while, before Hilbert pauses, looks down at his jumpsuit (though he's paired it with a large jacket he's found), then looks over at his companion, small frown on his face.

"Why does this say 'Hilbert' on it? That is not my name."

He knows what his name is! Or at least, he knows what his name is right now. And it's certainly not 'Hilbert.'

wildcard!
( want a more personalized prompt? wanna run into Dr. No Ethics elsewhere? hmu via DM or at allikateor for more plotting! )

methuselah's feast

[alexaandme]

Dom just happens to be the person sitting nearest Hilbert. She's got a mug of black coffee, steam rising up from it, which smells amazing and feels nice on her glasses-free face.

"Soap and water's probably as close as you'll get," she says, unbothered by the lack of pleasantries. "You could try using ashes. Might work in a pinch."

Shin-Ah | Yona of the Dawn

[farseen]

Arrival

He was blind.

This was his first thought upon awakening to the damp sounds and smells of a structure in ruin. Shin-Ah lied still in the silence, his heart quaking in quiet fear and confusion. A tumble of thoughts filled his mind at once:

Was it all a dream?

Did he never leave his village in the cavernous mountain passages after all?

Did he never see the sun or the moon again?

...

Was he dying?

He remembered the rage of his caretaker-- a man who died both blinded and far too young, hated by all but the child who was his unwanted successor.

"Ao..." He said softly, daring now to open his golden eyes. Indeed, his vision was restricted to only the expanse of what was directly before him and within the dilapidated walls. Shin-Ah gingerly sat up--

And was greeted by a tiny, chittering squirrel bounding up onto his shoulders.

The boy sighed. At least something was right in the world.

Feast

Years of food scarcity has taught Shin-Ah one lesson for survival: never ever turn down food.

Only paying attention to the bits of conversation that he understood-- which was precious little-- both the gangly teenager and squirrel shoved their cheeks full of every scrap of food that they could put on their plate. The sight was made more comical by the fact that the boy was self conscious, and immediately dropped his skull-like mask down over his face wherever he noticed that someone was looking at him.

He was self conscious and shy, ok?

He didn't know what questions to ask, except for two words if someone prompted. Shin-Ah would lift his gaze and stare at them with an expression as if he were staring into their soul:

"Where's Yona?"

feast

[friendsfordinner]

"Who the fuck is Yona?"

That's answer enough. Hickey, who had been staring at Shin-Ah like a creep this whole time, trying to piece out what this kid's deal was (one creepy weirdo in a mask is a coincidence, two creepy weirdos in masks are something else) when he gets the question. And so, Hickey gives an answer.

"Mate, in all likelihood, he's back in your home and you'll probably never see him again."

Svetlana Nazarova | Night Watch/Nochnoi Dozor | OTA!

[balancedlight]

Arrival: Initial and Methuselah's Feast

It takes her a while. Svetlana has not felt this sort of biting cold in a very long time. Maybe ever. Even her coat, ridiculous as it is, would have kept out the Moscow cold, but not this. She shivers, pulling it tightly around her, and tries to find that well of magic inside of her, to make it warmer, but -

Nothing.

Hell.

There’s absolutely nothing. She shudders a little as he tries not to worry about it. Push ahead, Svetlana, she tells herself. One foot at a time.

And when she does arrive, when there’s food on the table and water stocked, she sticks to soups, to tea, to anything and everything that will keep her warm. She never wants to be that cold again.

She’s startled the first time (and second, and third, and fourth, and - ) she hears English and understands it. Forgive her if she stares a moment too long before responding.

And if it looks like someone is coming in hurt or in some way poorly, she is a professional.

“I’m a doctor,” she says. “How can I help?”

Bad Pickings: cw: warped/altered moods

Sveta doesn’t go around eating random things off the ground. That’s what the shops are for. She’s never been the sort to navigate the forests and the woods. She’s a city girl, born and bred.

But that mushroom looks delicious and she stuffs it into her mouth before she really has a chance to think about why.

It. It. Delicious.

And when she stands back up, regaining her senses, she feels she has to tell everyone about it. In great detail. With a smile on her face.

Why wouldn’t they want to know about it? And why would they think it’s odd that Sveta is touching their hands, their arms, grinning about every little detail of this mushroom.

This is normal. This is fine.

[bestsir]

As is his custom now, Goodsir has come to the hall to see who's arrived, and he happens to be nearby when he hears a woman say, "I'm a doctor."

Immediately he pivots to see who it is, and just barely restrains himself from interrupting her outright. Instead he lingers nearby, waiting for her to finish what she's doing, before immediately getting her attention before she can wander off.

"Excuse me—I beg your pardon—I couldn't help but overhearing. You're a doctor?"

Charlie Cale | Poker Face

[saybullshit]

[ Charlie has a weird little ability: she can tell when someone is lying. Please read her permissions and opt-out page for more info, and comment to opt out. ]

1. Arrival
Charlie wakes up in a cave. Well—cave is overstating it; it's a fucking hole in the ground, wet and gross and Jesus Christ, she never made it off Shit Mountain, did she? She must've died in that goddamn hole and everything that came afterward, it's a dying hallucination. Shit. But she's cold and wet and ... huh. She doesn't actually feel like total shit; just normal shit from, well, waking up in a goddamn hole.

She crawls out and stares around in bewilderment. Superficial resemblances aside, it is not Shit Mountain. So maybe all that shit that came after, with ... fuck, with Sterling, with LeGrand, with Hasp, being on the run again—that happened. Okay. So what's she doing here?

One thing's for sure—she's not going to find out shivering her ass off in this cold. She sees lights and makes for them.

2. The feast
She can't get a read on this Methusaleh character, which is weird, but she's too cold and hungry to care. And there's people here. Fine. She grabs some food and spot to sit. Everyone she sees, she greets with a little wave and a "hi, howya doin'?" She's not a chatterbox, but if anyone wants to talk, she's happy to. Besides, she wants to find out more about what the hell is going on.

3. Bad Pickings
Charlie knows fuck-all about foraging, so she's only out there for the company, and because she wants to see more of the area. When she finds a cluster of mushrooms, she stops to get a closer look.

"Shit, man, I've seen these at the supermarket. Expensive as hell."

Inexpertly, she cuts off one of the oyster mushrooms at the base and pops it into her mouth.

"Huh. Not bad. Not sure why you'd charge uh ..."

She trails off, blinks, confused.

"Where the hell is this? The fuck am I doing here?"

4. Wildcard
[ Roll your own scenario. Hit me up on finalprogramme or Discord! ]

2

[meadqueen]

The woman who sits next to her looks like she could be a Marvel movie extra on a break: heavy blue wool clothing - complete with an ornate war hammer at her belt and an entire fox pelt draped across her shoulders - but carrying a bright blue nylon backpack and wearing modern-looking winter boots.

“Hello,” she says. She can't help looking a bit disappointed - she’d hoped it wasn't true that more people would be kidnapped so quickly. “You must be one of the new arrivals.”

Steve Harrington || Stranger Things

[stevieboy]

→ feast.

---

[ At first, Steve's pretty sure this is some new and horrible version of the Upside Down. That would make sense, considering he was pulled in through the portal in the lake and ended up here. But it doesn't look anything like Hawkins or the surrounding area, and why the hell would it be so cold? Steve's been kind of sure he's about to die a few times in the last few years, but this? This feels like it's gonna happen for sure. He's wet. He doesn't have a shirt on. It's cold and the water on his body is starting to freeze and this definitely feels like how people die.

But there's a building so close that has plumes of smoke rising above it and Steve's good at pushing through, so he trudges his way there, almost frozen through by the time the door is opened to him and he's ushered in. He thaws out wrapped in a blanket by the fire, then, when he feels like he can move his limbs again, he all but inhales a warm bowl of stew. Then another. He even gulps down tea, not really caring for the taste but enjoying the way it warms him from the inside out. ]


→ fair fortune.

---

[ Dogs are great. Steve hasn't been here long enough to be suspicious of dogs yet, even if this one is a little weird. But how does a person feel bad when they see a shaggy dog. And it feels nice, to have a dog just walk beside him, like they're not in some absolutely shitty winter hellhole. Just a guy and a dog, going for a brisk afternoon walk. Until the dog doesn't want to anymore and gives a little yap to get Steve's attention. ]

What you got there, boy?

[ Steve crouches down and moves some snow aside, and finds a bag. He looks around, though he's not sure why. It's not like anyone's coming for this. The thing's been buried under the snow and there aren't any other tracks around. He unzips it, the inside a bit soaked through but protected by ziplock bags is a cache of matches and fire starters, some rations like beef jerky and protein bars, and a thick sweater with some gloves that definitely need to be dried out. He lets out a whispered holy shit, but when he turns to ask the dog how it knew about it, the dog's gone.

Jesus Christ.

Steve hoists the bag over his shoulder and walks back into town. The smart thing to do would be to keep it all for himself, but, for one thing, Steve's never been what some would call smart. For another, he's not really an asshole, and he wants to help people if he can. So he stops whoever he comes across to ask if they need anything from the bag.

Except for the sweater and gloves. He's keeping those. ]


→ wildcard.

---

Choose your own adventure. Down for anything in and around Milton. Have fun~

fair fortune

[myonlychoice]

[ Estelle also followed the dog to a cache. Hers contains candles and matches and a few really warm blankets, all stuffed in a cute basket. The dog is gone as soon as she picks it up, but she says "thank you" to the surrounding area, just in case it can hear her, and starts on her way back to Milton.

That's when she runs into Steve. ]

Oh, excuse me, did you happen to see a dog passing by just now? It led me to this basket. I was hoping to tell it "thank you."

james t. kirk (au) — st:snw

[itio]

ARRIVAL

THE PATH — [ It's not a pleasant awakening, and Jim's had a few of those to know. The voices in his head have registered as little more than a dream, maybe a hallucination, but nothing more— and the first thing that hits him is how cold it is.

Some planets are just like that, or at least some locations. He's vastly more familiar with artificical atmospheres and this is one thing that he's not especially equipped to handle. Well, at least he's still wearing a few layers on him, it's better than just the standard fleet uniform.

But it doesn't offer much better protection against the hardships of the wilderness. By the time he makes it to one of the paths (more like stumbles into it), his clothes are dirty and a little ripped in a few places, he's got a cut just above his eyebrow, and he's bleeding from somewhere on his leg. He's still standing on his own two feet, though, he'll call that a— win? Kind of? Sure, a win. ]

Hey! [ He calls out as soon as he spots someone from the distance, then picks up pace to catch up to them. If they're worse for wear than he is, he'll immediately set out to help them, whether that's by keeping them upright or helping them down onto the floor, but if not, he'll go straight to asking. ] Hey, sorry— you have any idea of where we are?

METHUSELAH'S FEAST — [ Reaching some semblance of civilization is both a relief, and not. The latter mainly because Jim doesn't see a lot of his questions answered, and that's more frustrating than anything else.

But there are people here, at least; people who've been here longer, actually, even if they may not be a lot of help in figuring out how he landed here. Besides, it's warm in here, and there's food, blankets, a number of small comforts that are more than welcome after the several hours he's spent wandering in the wild. He's still bruised but at least what little blood he's got on him is dried by now, and he's got a bowl of soup and some bread set on the table in front of him, all of which he's eating with a voracious appetite.

Considering the last time he closed his eyes, he wasn't exactly expecting to open them again— he really can't complain much. ]

BAD PICKINGS

REISHI MUSHROOM — [ It doesn't take a genius to know not to eat anything unfamiliar on a previously unexplored location; that's all the truer for mushrooms, often poisonous or at least with hallucinogenic properties. Jim knows this. There's no sensible reason, no logic behind the urge that pushes him to harvest these particular mushrooms and then, without so much as asking someone else or even cooking the thingS, just eat them raw.

The effects are nearly immediate. His sight blurs and starts to crumble at the edges, shapes dissolving into colors, colors dissolving to light, and light flickering away until there's nothing but pitch darkness. And he is, still, in a very unfamiliar place, with nothing to either ground him or guide him, so he ends up stumbling at the faintest sound, running from whatever he perceives as a danger, only to trip over something and land face first on a puddle of mud.

He lifts his head with a soft groan, blinking a few times. Yep, still blind. Great. ] Ow.

Arrival: Path

[solitarysoul]

[The boy in the oversized coat with the rifle slung across his back seems to be doing fine, at least for a place like this. He looks to Kirk upon being addressed.]

This is Milton. In, um, Canada. That's not very helpful, though, sorry. But I can show you into town.

Rose | The Vampire Diaries

[justexisting]

Ａｒｒｉｖａｌ

Being a vampire, Rose never felt the cold. Sure, she could do things to warm her blood up, make her slow heartbeat speed up to mimic that of a human's, but the colder months weren't an issue. Until now, when she woke up on a field of snow, with no clear indication of where she was.

Rose sat up suddenly, feeling a chill in her bones. The last time she felt like that was over five hundred years ago when she was human and when England experienced some truly terrible winters.

"Fucking hell." She says, now getting to her feet to see if there were any signs of life anywhere. Nothing. Fantastic. Rose also felt strangely weak, like she hadn't drank blood for a while. Her senses weren't as sharp as before - did she somehow get dosed with vervain? Being dumped in the middle of nowhere didn't seem like Elijah's style and she hadn't intended to come back to Mystic Falls so where the fuck was she?

Wrapping her arms around herself, Rose trudges through the snow in one direction and hopes that it leads to some kind of civilisation. Her clothes get torn on stray branches and thorny bushes as she walks, and she almost falls face first onto the ground a few times, but somehow, Rose manages to stop herself from doing that.

She can hear wolves and another animals in the distance, which makes her nervous. If they were normal wolves, Rose may have enough strength to fight them off, but if they were werewolves, she didn't stand a chance. It makes her walk faster, even more determined to find some kind of shelter.

Eventually, Rose finds her way into what looked like an abandoned town and yet she could see people around, could smell food cooking and noticed plumes of smoke billowing from the odd chimney. Ahead of her, Rose spots other people heading towards a bigger building and decides to follow after them, clinging to hope that she'll get a few answers.

---

Ｆｅａｓｔ

The smell of the various food and drinks did nothing to satiate her hunger, but Rose reckoned it might be a good idea to blend in with the locals. She lifts up a plate of the deer and rabbit meets, accompaning the food with a mug of coffee before finding a space to sit down at. Any snow on her body is long since melted, but she still feels a slight chill.

If she was drugged with vervain, the effects should have worn off by now.

Rose picks at her plate and takes occasional bites of the dried meet, washing it down with a swig of coffee. She'll need some blood to keep herself going, but she highly doubts anyone would be a willing donor. Maybe she could find a wild animal to feed from instead.

If anyone approaches her for a conversation, she won't turn it down. Maybe she could learn something about where she was from the locals or find someone familiar from home.

---

Ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ

Feel free to run into Rose around Milton at any point during her arrival. You can PM me if you want to discuss things first :D

Feast

[lilredvamp]

Jessica was worried she was the only vampire here. She tried to look for tell-tale features of her kind, but everyone here was pale from the cold and if they had their fangs they kept them hidden.

She never thought she would actually miss Bill, but here she was, sipping tea and pretending to be human. She took a seat next to a woman who looked as lost and exhausted as Jessica felt. Tugging the blanket tighter around her, Jessica looked around. “How many more people are going to come out of the woods?” She asked, not really expecting an answer.

daisy johnson | agents of shield (mcu)

[chuju]

arrival

[ She remembers the explosion, ricocheting out to encompass the entire Chronicom fleet. She remembers the cold of space that rushed in to freeze her bare skin. She remembers feeling a sense of peace knowing that she'd succeeded at saving the world yet again. Finally, Daisy Johnson feels ready to rest.

And then she wakes up. 'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.' The words echo in her mind, filling her with a fear she hasn't felt since—

Confusion knocks the strange dream from her mind as she feels the snow beneath her hands, her fingers already numb from it. The air bites her lungs as she breathes in deep, hauling her tired, aching body up to her knees and then her feet. She staggers almost drunkenly, turning to look at all the trees around her... Fear rushes back in with the force of a tidal wave when she realizes how empty she feels. How quiet. The buzzing is gone, the vibrations of the world around her no longer coursing through her. She can't feel the trees or the snow or the ground. ]

No. No. How—

[ But she can't just stand there panicking when she's so cold she can barely feel her own body. Her movements are stiff, but she does manage to move, her boots crunching the wretched snow and propelling her forward. Toward what, she has no idea — she just knows this won't be how she dies. ]

feast

[ Daisy opts for a steaming cup of herbal tea, only half-full because she's shaking so badly that she'd spill a full one all over herself. Finding a seat as close to the fire as she can manage without sitting on top of it, there's no hiding how distressed she is. What the hell is this place? How did she get here? The way the old man Methuselah talks, it sounds like none of them are leaving here any time soon, which very much does not sit well with her. She has to get back to her team. They'll be looking for her — Coulson and May and Mack and Sousa...

She stays at the fire for a while, drinking her tea and slowly warming up from the outside in. If anyone happens to approach the woman in a strange suit who looks (accurately) like she's just been through a battle, she'll take part in the conversation to pass the time.

Eventually, though, she gets up again to get herself some food. While it's the last thing she wants to think about right now when she feels like she's had part of herself hollowed out, she's also undeniably ravenous. It's always struck her as funny that the world could be ending, literally or figuratively, and people will still feel hungry and need to eat. It just feels wrong somehow, in the face of everything. ]

notes

[ Presenting one soon-to-be exceptionally miserable millennial hacker superhero! No computers? No central heating? No powers? This must be a special kind of hell designed just for her. Daisy will be wearing her superhero suit until she finds some decent winter clothes. Anyone from the MCU post-Civil War era is welcome to recognize her as Quake, the Inhuman SHIELD agent. ]

feast!

[salamanca]

[ Lalo isn't really interested in the food at the feast so much - he's a better cook, in his own estimation, even with the meager rations he's able to scrounge up or barter, but he likes to scope out the new arrivals.

One new arrival, in particular, catches his attention, and Lalo sets his sights on Daisy. ]

Whoa, there! What happened to you?

[ The word themselves might be rude, but his tone and expression suggest friendly playfulness. He sits down beside her, turning the chair so he's sitting backwards in it, facing her. She seems open enough to chat, based on her body language, so he doesn't feel like he's intruding. ]

Maddy Perez | Euphoria

[somethingintangible]

ARRIVAL
[ The girl who makes her way gingerly into town, picking over rocks and ice, is shivering dramatically. She's clearly not dressed for this weather. She has a heavy men's jacket and some oversized men's boots she found somewhere, but underneath that, she wears nothing but a green bodycon jumpsuit. The jacket hits to about the same point where her bodycon short shorts end, leaving a strip of bare flesh exposed to the cold winter air before the boots stop. Her makeup, once beautiful and intricate, is smudged now. She trumps through the snow, the too-big boots threatening to fall off with every laborious step.

She stops short in her tracks and stares when she sees you, and rubs the mascara tear-streaked corner of her eye. ]

Oh. Uh. Hey. Wait. Who are you?

METHUSELAH'S FEAST [cw: teenagers]
[ Maddy stares at the food in front of her, but she's more concerned with getting warm than eating. Ugh. This jacket smells weird, and she doesn't know if the person wearing it had like Hepatitis or something. But she's way too cold to take it off, and she slides her arms out from the sleeves to wrap it closer against her like it's a blanket.

If you sit down next to her, or she just happens to catch your eye, she'll sigh. ]

This food sucks.

[ Great introduction, Maddy! Good job, girl. She looks about as Surly Teen as it's possible to look. But she also looks very small and scared, and being engulfed by the large jacket doesn't help that.

If she thinks nobody is looking, she might put her face in both hands and start to quietly cry. ]

OF FAIR FORTUNE [cw: marijuana]
[ Maddy is disappointed that she's not able to pet the dog. It slips away every time she tries. But she finds its presence comforting, and she follows it. It seems to know that she would have trouble navigating her way out of the woods, because it doesn't take her too far. And then it's gone!

She's distressed at first, not sure where it ran off to, and she looks around. But it's too late. It's gone.

What she finds instead, though, is as much of a boon to her as anything could be to anyone.

A fashionable woman's winter scarf, thick socks, and a svelte women's jacket that would have been in style circa 2019, black with tan fur-lined trim. Maddy takes off the old jacket she'd been wearing and puts it on eagerly, only to find something else when she reaches into the pocket.

A pre-rolled joint, and a lighter. As she crunches back to town, still in the too-big men's snowboots, she looks around. Her reaction depends on who she sees next.

If you are a Fellow Kid (TM), or look like you could pass for one, she'll gesture to you and whisper: ]

Hey. C'mere.

[ But if you're an adult or you look like a narc, she'll just glare. ]

Yeah? What is it?

Fair Fortune

[solitarysoul]

[Levi's not surprised to find people he doesn't know in the woods around now. He is a bit confused by her whispering. Did she come from somewhere she needed to be hiding? He guesses he can tell her that its safe (...kinda) here.]

...yeah?

Jane Margolis | Breaking Bad

[copacetic]

METHUSELAH'S FEAST [cw: drug withdrawals, emeto]
[ A young woman with dark hair and pale skin sits huddled up by the fire. Too sick to eat, even though she knows she probably should, Jane rocks back and forth. She's shivering, and her lips are blue. She's wearing a gray t-shirt, a tan jacket, jeans.

She looks rough, and not in a way that can be chalked up to the cold alone. Try to speak to her, and be treated to her suddenly lurching forward and vomiting all over you, the floor, and/or herself.

Miserably, she sits back up. ]

Fuck. Sorry.

BAD PICKINGS [cw: possible altered state, possibly mushroom effects? depending on how the thread goes, references to recreational drug use]

[ It's some days later. The worst of Jane's withdrawal symptoms have abated, but she still looks worse for wear.

Which means she's also grumpy. When she runs into you, somewhere around town or on the outskirts of the forest, and sees you looking tempted to pluck a mushroom, Jane gives you a slightly judgmental appraisal. ]

You're not supposed to just eat wild mushrooms. [ Not that she isn't tempted to herself. Psychedelics aren't usually her thing, but fuck, right now she'll take anything. Anything that will help her not be living through this insane nightmare. She's half-convinced that she's actually dead, and this is hell.

She forces herself to resist the urge to grab a mushroom and bite into it in the hopes of a good trip, though. On the off chance this is somehow not hell, she doesn't want to send herself there on purpose. ]

Feast

[meadqueen]

[There’s someone standing over Jane with an incongruous-looking beach towel. This isn't the first person who has arrived here in terrible shape - she can still see in her mind the poor man that she’d run into on arrival, spitting bile and blood into the snow - but it's still terrible to see.]

Here, take this. If I get you a cup of broth, do you think you could drink it?

peter parker — tasm

[webshootings]

01 ARRIVE.

[ He doesn't remember snow being in the forecast when he'd watched the weather report late, late last night.

But, here it is, snowing. Peter closes his eyes. He has to be dreaming, he thinks. His mind giving him a brief reprieve from his ever present depression. He doesn't know why it would take him here, though? Wouldn't a tropical paradise be better? Some comfortable chalet in the Alps sitting in a fireplace?

No, he's standing in the middle of thick throng of trees, shivering. His breath fogs out in front of him and, when he looks down, he's ankle deep in the white stuff. He can feel it soaking into his socks. ]

What — ?

[ He shivers again before he picks one foot up and starts walking. If this is a dream, shouldn't he be waking up now? Shouldn't something jar him enough to get him out of this place? ]

Hello? Is this a dream? Anyone?

[ All he hears is his voice echoing throughout the trees. It's kind of creepy. Peter stops walking and looks around. ]

Am I about to be stabbed? This is like the beginning of a really bad horror movie. Hello?

02 METHUSELAH'S FEAST.

[ It's not a dream. As everything drags out longer and longer, Peter realizes that this is not a dream. So, maybe it's some kind of punishment? He doesn't recognize anyone but everyone is either looking dazed like him or like this has happened before.

And that kind of worries him. He doesn't like the thought that this might be something that occurs on a regular basis. How do you kidnap a bunch of people and drop them in the middle of Nowheresville and not have it be big time news? He's missing something.

But he doesn't know if he's up to even trying to figure it out. Right now, he's just cold. There's a hot mug of tea in his hands but the cold's been there a lot longer than just since he's gotten here. It's seeped into his bones and has taken up permanent residence in his body.

He takes a sip anyway. ]

Ew.

[ Right, he doesn't like tea. ]

Anyone got some hot coffee instead?

03 BAD PICKINGS.

[ Peter Parker makes bad decisions. At this point, why wouldn't he eat a damn mushroom? Nothing could be worse than what he's already gone through and he's hungry. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can picture this reishi mushroom on a big pizza with cheese that's oozing off the ends.

He takes a bite and that...is not a pizza. It's not terrible but yeah, he's not going to be replacing potato chips for mushrooms anytime soon. Getting to his feet, he starts walking, heading away from the mushrooms ands up walking right into a tree. It staggers him and it hurts.

He stumbles backwards and realizes that there's nothing but blackness in front of his eyes. He waves a hand and even reaches up like maybe he's been blinfolded but no. He just can't see anymore.

Oh boy. ]

Well, if this isn't a great PSA for not eating wild mushrooms, then I don't know what is.

[ Okay, don't panic, he thinks. Don't panic, Pete.

Guess what? He's panicking. ]

Arrival CW: Jokes about cannibalism

[guidemyway]

[This probably isn't going to put him at ease. But Ruby's out hunting with a large red rifle in hand. The rifle itself hasn't worked since she first got here but the scope was still handy enough to keep any out for things.

Thankfully wearing a bright red jacket and cape doesn't really give the sign that she's trying to hide.

She hears his voice call out at first and she starts to make a dash through the snow to get closer and make herself more visible. She'll raise an arm up and wave when she gets a look at him.]

I don't know- On a scale of one to ten how good do you think you taste?

[Jokes? She's got them.]

millions knives ( trigun stampede )

[miraclegro]

arrival, i-a / wake me up inside;

His world had already been dark when that disembodied voice had broken through, his own last words still ringing in his ears as though they'd only just come out of his mouth. Awestruck, disbelieving.

More than a century to make an excuse … and that's the best you come up with!?

The first thing he registers is the cold, and not only it's the worst thing anyone that wakes up here will have felt up to that point; it's because he's never felt temperature like this period, neither cold nor hot, and it's the sort of thing that seeps into the fabric wrapped around him ( he may look a bit like a Sith Lord to anyone that comes across him, swaddled as he is ) and even deeper beneath the surface of his skin so quickly that his brain doesn't have the time it needs to catch up to itself and process it. There is that, and —

The connection. His powers, his Gate, being able to hear his sisters even if there was never anything he could directly do for them, all of it — gone. His head is empty and his chest feels much the same, heavy with a kind of loss he's never felt before, echoed in the anguished sound that practically rips out of him and bounces off the cave walls that surround him.

No, no, nononono, this can— can't be.

His thoughts are half-formed, unstable, all fighting for dominance at once and none of them are really winning out, save for one. He knows he can't stay here, wherever here is, and it's with the beginnings of chattering teeth that he finally pulls himself to his ( bare ) feet, pulling his snuggie cloak tighter around his shoulders and stepping out into the bitter, open cold. A single syllable lingers on the tip of his tongue as he starts walking.

"Vash."

Could you be here, too?

i-b / save me;

Eventually, he finds the path to town, and even more eventually the town itself, and while he has never had a single thing to say about walking such long distances, he's never been so disgustingly human before; the whole of him aches, little pins and needles dancing along any part of him that has spent too long exposed to the elements, and it should surprise literally no one just how long he spends in front of the fire. It feels like he might never know warmth again, or at least the feeling of normalcy that comes from being properly thawed out.

He will continue to sit where he like like a statue even long after the beginning pangs of hunger make themselves known, which is going to be another strange thing to befall him, because he has never needed to eat before. Or sleep. Or do any of the other mundane things humans have need of throughout their days, and it's going to make him extremely ornery.

( Not that he wasn't to begin with, but of course, that's neither here nor there.

Try to feed him. Go on, we dare you. )

bad pickings, ii / before i come undone;

Perhaps now that he's better-outfitted for such harsh conditions —

He may as well get a better understanding of the surroundings, and if that means foraging, so be it.

It stands to reason that enough time has passed by and he still hasn't been convinced to eat anything ( substantial or not, maybe he'll pass out in the snow like a dumbass, we just don't know ) that even without the added compulsion, he might just find himself foraging for some fungi. He will eat them raw.

Black morel and chanterelles are going to be the biggest culprits here, because narration enjoys poking fun at this basement-dweller more any chance they get; he is normally very quick to anger and anxious, incredibly standoffish and avoidant, so given a chance to make him the complete opposite of all that? Jumping right on that train and riding it all the way to hell.

Big bad Millions Knives, being affectionate. The world really is going to end.

wildcard, iii / bring me to life;
( Obligatory choose your own adventure option; I'm happy to write personalized starters, or if you'd like to hash something out you're more than welcome to hit me up on plurk — creatura!

Also yes, I very unapologetically used Evanescence lyrics. Zero regrets. )

probably i-b of some description

[skelters]

[ it is that time again when people are beginning to turn up out of the woods. vash has been somewhat expecting this and have been going out for fishing and gathering firewood more often to be able to assist better this time, though his luck hasn't been all that great with either; it's either the fish are getting smarter or the bait that he's been using just isn't as effective anymore, and he always seem to walk out into the forest just as a fierce snowstorm drifts over, forcing him to cut the trip early and return. but vash is nothing if not terribly, horribly determined ... which is why he has been in and out of the community hall all day - carrying in water, cleaned fish for cooking, and armloads of firewood, and whatever else that people could ask for or need. just don't ask him to help cook, though. he just doesn't seem to be able to get the seasoning right no matter how hard he tries. but grilled fish isn't all that hard to mess up - and vash is quite proud of his efforts this time around, you know!

he should probably have thought better, though, than to bring it out from the kitchens into the hall, carrying the plate and a pitcher of hot water for the tea as he makes his way towards the tables and puts them down in place. he should have just stayed out of sight, knowing what could happen, what has already happened with him arriving in this place - with wolfwood, too, having been brought back to his other self's life so inexplicably. he should probably have known that his luck wouldn't hold out. he's been too complacent, too content with his place in this mismatched place - too docile in not resisting whatever plans the powers in this world had in mind for him.

that's when he sees him - the sharp line of his nose cast with warm outlines from the fire, the whitegold hair like something left out overnight to frost.

vash finds himself halting in his tracks, his heartbeats starting to pick up the pace where his legs won't move. his chest feels too tight. it's like being held underwater - the heavy liquid pressing in on all sides, crushing his lungs, blurring his vision in freezing blue. he's here. why. why. why.

the terror that he feels isn't greater than what he feels for the others around them; nai - no, knives - is a liability, bringing nothing but pain and destruction and death to those he sees so unfit - and it is only after vash finds it in himself to duck behind a shelf that he can shake it off and not immediately call out. danger. pain. fear. run. he has no powers here - no way to tap into his abilities for causing destruction. he looks half frozen, white and blue from the cold - but it is vash who is shaking.

vash forces his jaws to loosen - inhaling a strained breath of air that tastes like blood and smoke - and buries his face in his knees drawn up to his chest, crouched behind the furniture unseen. maybe in another five minutes he will know that it's just his imagination, he's just mistook someone ... but it is only a futile hope. he knows who it is. he would know him anywhere. ]

livio the doublefang / trigun maximum / ota!!!!

[crimebaby]

arrival 1;

[ the first thing that hits him is the cold. sure, the desert had gotten cold at night -- the dark halls of the eye of michael were chilled and cold. but not like this. this is biting cold, freezing wind and temperatures he's never experienced in his life. he's got a poncho over his shoulders, and a hat, but this isn't any sort of protection from the elements. ]

[ the second thing that hits him is the soft texture of the snow underneath his hands. he stares at it in awe, whole body shivering -- enthralled by it. he almost seems.... emotional? no scratch that, he definitely is emotional. ]

[ so, basically, what you see: a six and a half foot tall giant buff guy in a cowboy hat and a poncho kneeling in the snow, holding it in his hands and.... tearing up. he is clearly freezing, his teeth chattering, but apparently, this is his priority right now. ]

It's.... snow?

[ this seems directed at you, but could just as easily be a rhetorical question. ]

arrival 2;

[ or maybe it's you who's down in the snow, albeit for different reasons. it's not an easy trek back into town, after all. maybe you're on the verge of collapsing, or noticeably struggling, and suddenly, you will see a shadow over you! as this guy drapes his poncho over you like a blanket. as he crouches beside you, he seems... hesitant ]

D-Don't be scared! I'm just going to help you get somewhere warmer... I, ah, think I see smoke over there!

[ your valiant (?????) hero (???????) ]

arrival 3;

[ alternatively, it seems like you've run into some of the local wildlife! that is to say, one of the wolves. it doesn't look too friendly. it is snarling and absolutely ravenous and advancing towards you. my, what big teeth, etc. fortunately, there is another very obvious target here. and he looks pretty intent on being target #1, even without powers. yolo ]

Get to safety! I'll keep it busy.

[ he sounds confident, like he has a plan of sorts. he's terminator running towards the thing with speed you might not expect from such a big guy. and he--- ]

[ punches it in the face. ]

[ that's how you fight wolves, right? ]

feast;

[ so this guy is just here collecting people's plates and cleaning up. loser. ]

[ he awkwardly hangs around until you're finished with your food before holding out his hands for your used utensils and dinnerware ]

Do you know where the kitchen is...?

[ why is he even cleaning up if he doesn't know where the kitchen is? ]

wildcard;

[ hit me with anything or comment if you want a custom prompt! ]

[lastdecember]

[ Just as expected, there’s a new crop of abductees arriving today. Wolfwood had been planning to go out and gather more wood – he’s finally getting the hang of it, after collecting more than his fair share of blisters and near misses – but the chatter in the street as he heads out has him turning on his heel and marching straight into the town center. Last time, he’d been too shocked by his resurrection to properly talk with the old man. This time, though, he’s armed with plenty of questions… and Vash is nowhere to be seen, so there won’t be anyone to stop him grilling the old guy.

It's not like he’s going to hurt Methuselah! But the old man knows more than he’s telling, and things are getting too serious around here to let him keep his secrets any longer. They’ve been changed, given abilities, they’ve been sharing dreams, and now some dog-headed god has decided he’s got the right to march through town killing people. It’s time for some answers.

Methuselah’s right where Wolfwood expects him to be, over at the side table handing out stews and teas to all the frightened, shivering newcomers. Wolfwood glances over the crowd as he heads into the room, half-assedly checking for threats… until one very large man catches his eye.

He drops down onto the bench beside him, keeping out of sight of the man as he waits for the big guy to turn around. Is it really him? He’s sure big enough! And then Livio turns, and Wolfwood catches sight of that distinctive tattoo – it’s him. They got Livio, too.

Wolfwood doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, but he sure knows what to do about it. Keeping low and behind other people, he sneaks his way to the other side of the room where Livio’s collecting dirty dishes like he works here. Using every bit of stealth he can muster, Wolfwood puts himself right behind the other man before leaning right in over his shoulder to appraise his work. ]

Oh, you missed a spot.

Jessica Hamby | True Blood

[lilredvamp]

Arrival

The warmth of a Texas summer is a stark difference from the cold of Bumfuck, Wherever. Jessica has never felt the cold since she first died and turned…which was two weeks ago. Aside from appearing in an abandoned cabin, the realization that she can feel the cold at all made her realize something was horribly wrong in her body. Normally she could see well in the dark, but not now. Everything is pitch dark, like how she would see the winter nighttime when she as human.

She’s glad she is alone here as she made herself a real fool as she stumbled around, looking for any light. She found a few matches but more importantly she found a workable flashlight.

Still wearing her summer dress, Jessica made the effort to find some suitable clothes but no luck. Other than her flashlight, there is nothing here for her to use. She has no choice but to go out. It’s stupid to do so considering her clothing, but something about the cabin made her realize she can’t stay. She’s hungry, and maybe someone (cute) will be willing to give some blood to her. The cold cuts deeper than any vampire fangs could. And her fangs…they still appear when she wills it, and they are sharp as ever.

As she wanders to what she think is the path, she sometimes yell out Bill or Sookie’s names. If she’s here, then they are here, right? But she only heard the howls of wolves replying and she can only snarl back instinctively. Branches snag at her dress, tearing it. She occasionally stumbles, ruining her dainty shoes on frozen mud.

The sign comes up and she mutters, “Oh, thank God!” People! Warmth! Maybe fresh blood! Hell, she’ll try TruBlood even, as long as she’s close to civilization.

She knocked the door and Methuselah welcomed her in. Even though she knows public buildings like the community hall are fair deal for vampires, she can’t help but feel relief that he explicitly welcomed her inside.

There are people inside, people who looked cold and confused as she is. She takes an offered blanket and sits down on a free cot. Wrapping herself up, she looks around trying to find someone she might recognize. Failing that, she picks the first person who doesn’t look busy to ask them a pretty important question:

“Hey, do know any spare clothes around here? Because, um - ” She lifted the blanket off of her, revealing the dress that is now partially wet, torn, and dirty. “I’m not wearing anything weather appropriate.”

Of Fair Fortune

Jessica came out to explore the town at night. Most people are already starting to get ready for bed, which sucks, but it’s all she can do.

The snow crunched underneath her boots. She has her trusty flashlight, looking at every dark corner suspiciously. Jessica has heard some stories of wolves attacking the town in the past. She’s pretty certain she can handle a wolf with her fangs but it’s not something she really wants to deal with it.

But she sees not a wolf but a dog. A honest, who’s-a-good-boy doggie. “Hey doggie!” Jessica calls out. “C’mere boy.”

No luck. The dog looks at her like she’s being exceptionally stupid.

Bad Pickings

Even if she wants to eat them Jessica knows she can’t eat mushrooms no more than she can eat apples.

However that doesn’t mean she can’t see the clear effects it’s having on people. Some in the community hall, others who stumble outside in the cold.

Wildcard

[ Open to whatever. Keep in mind Jessica is only active at night. While she can stay up past dawn, she has to be indoors and will have some side effects for staying up during the day. If you want your character to interact with Jessica during the day, PM me and we can hash it out. ]

Of Fair Fortune

[somethingintangible]

Maddy watches Jessica at the dog for a few seconds, trying to decide if she's going to say anything or not. Apparently, she's decided that to, her hands still in the pockets of her jacket as she surveys the older woman coolly.

"That's not how it works," she says, once she catches Jessica's eye. "You have to follow him."

She only knows that because she already has.

r.j. maccready | fallout 4

[heckofashot]

> 01. arrival

[ Caves are something Maccready has always associated with comfort — waking and finding himself staring up at a rocky ceiling should make him feel safe. The cold, though, that's a different matter entirely. It is bitter, cuts right to the bone, and Maccready's tattered coat does nothing to stave off the chill. This is not a place he should stay, not unless he wants to freeze to death.

Outside is harsher than anything he's experienced thus far; save for maybe the rad storms. There's a rising sense of urgency as the snow begins to soak the hems of his trousers. He needs to stay calm and figure out where he is, and more importantly, find somewhere he might be able to gain access to supplies. An old town maybe, or a supermarket. It'll be slim pickings, he expects, but something is better than nothing.

He makes his way through the snow, arms pulled tight around himself and looks for signs that should point him in some sort of direction — things that people would leave behind; carved trees, suspiciously arranged debris, or even just tracks in the snow. He trudges towards the path, and by the time he reaches it he's limping and visibly favouring one side. When he catches a glance of a figure moving along it, he'll throw all caution to the wind, and pick up his pace, stumbling as he calls out. ]

Son of a— Hey, wait! A little help over here?

[ Friend or foe, he'll do what he can to gain their attention, in spite of it going against every instinct of self-preservation he has. ]

> 02. feast

[ Maccready is not one to easily trust strange old men offering food and shelter; kindness is rarely offered up so freely in the wastes, even if someone showed him it can be. He should politely decline, but he finds the allure of the warmth radiating from the building pulling him inside all the same. The fire is the first thing he gravitates towards; holds his hands out in front of himself and basks in the heat of the flames.

Eventually, he finds himself sat at a table with a bowl in front of him, eating like someone who has never seen soup before. The broth tastes like nothing he's ever eaten, so used to eating rancid meat or centuries old processed foods. He ought to be pacing himself, really, but he shows no signs of slowing as he picks up the bowl and slurps from it noisily and with little regard for the people around him. They'll have to forgive him, he grew up in a cave.

Anyone who happens to sit near him will find themselves on the immediate end of questioning. ]

D'you know what this is? It tastes incredible…

[ He's gesturing to a plate beside his soup, laden with meat, potatoes and vegetables. Even before receiving an answer, he'll dig in, face alight with something close to childlike wonder. Meat that isn't from a horribly mutated beast of some kind, what a concept. ]

> 03. bad pickings

[ A man who spent his entire childhood in a cave and subsisted largely on mostly mushrooms, of course he's doing he's due diligence and inspecting them thoroughly. Thing is, the mushrooms he's gathered look nothing like the kind that grew on the cave walls in Little Lamplight, so he's kind of at a loss. Mushrooms can be tricky to work with, that much he knows, but… it's probably fine, right? That's what he thinks as he begins eating reishi mushrooms raw anyway.

The effects of the mushroom aren't immediate — it starts like a strange glowing aura, almost like a migraine, blurring his vision on one side. He wanders around town, bumping into folks he seemingly doesn't register are there. Over the course of an hour it gets progressively worse, colour and shapes become less defined and appear to him only as light and shadow.

Then there's simply nothing but black. He tries not to panic, really, but he fails miserably as he staggers around, arms outstretched and hands reaching for something, anything. Maybe he grabs onto you, or maybe he's about to grab onto something he really shouldn't. ]

3

[amo]

[ Vash is very much minding his own business, helping clear the more traveled paths between the commonly visited locations in town from snow to make it easier for everyone — but the newcomers especially — to get around more easily. It's one of those annoying tasks that returns again and again no matter what; like laundry. There's never an end in sight when the weather remains as frigid as it's always been since the first time he woke up in this mysterious place among the first batch of Interlopers. At least it's one of those mindless tasks in which he can lose himself for a bit while the physical exertion keeps him warm.

When he hears someone approach from somewhere behind him, he's not paying it much mind at all. Milton is abuzz with new arrivals still settling in and in the relative safety in the center of it all during the precious few hours of daylight they've got, he's not particularly on guard. When it's obvious the footsteps are directly coming his way, he's already prepared to pause his tireless shoveling and give a friendly greeting, see if it's a familiar face or a new one—

Except he doesn't get the chance.

Suddenly the person is upon him, hands grabbing hold of his red pea-coat without warning and Vash drops his shovel with a startled yelp, twisting his torso to catch a glimpse of his assailant(?). ]

Ack, sorry!

[ Why is he the one apologizing when he's not the one doing the bumping and grabbing hapless strangers? Who knows. But fortunately, a glance is all that it takes for him to notice the distress and realize something's wrong. ]

Are you alright?

the doctor | doctor who

[thedreamer]

ARRIVAL

[ Places to see, things to do, planets and people to help, busy, busy all the time. Dashing about across the stars, the madman with a box never stops, except when...he's suddenly and forcibly wrenched far away from said box, dropped in the middle of — well, it's not nowhere, is it, anywhere is somewhere even if he doesn't immediately know where. A madman with a box, suddenly without a box or any sense of what's going on except, 'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'

As welcomes go, it's not exactly up to the task. Needs reworking, obviously. He'll lodge official complaints later.

After he's addressed the fact that he's woken up outside in the middle of thick snow, which wouldn't be even close to the most unusual thing that's ever happened to him quite frankly except that he actually feels cold.

Funny thing, that. He's always been able to tolerate with minimal discomfort the sort of extreme temperatures that most humanoid species wouldn't be able to. So this is altogether strange, unsettling, not as it should be. ]

Right! Okay, not just another Tuesday. I thought I ordered the tourist package when I booked, you know, lovely amenities, chocolate on the pillow. Might have mentioned this bit in the brochure.

[ All said to himself as he stands and rubs his hands together rapidly for warmth. Not the sort to ever stay still for long even on a good and normal day, the Doctor is quick to follow the path ahead when he's caught sight of it. For at least a little while, it seems to be a solitary trek, but then he hears a sound like someone approaching and he calls out — ]

Hello! Option one: you're someone like me who's just arrived and needs a 'venturing in the forest' buddy. I'm good at that! Big fan of forests and getting out of them. Option two: you've been here a while but still want to get out of the forest — excellent, we already have something in common.

Option three: none of the above, you wouldn't be able to say otherwise if you were, and yes, yes, shutting up now.

METHUSELAH'S FEAST

[ The sensation of warmth after the protracted journey through the cold is something the Doctor won't be taking for granted anytime soon. He's had enough time to think, his normally frenetic mind making leaps and bounds and twists and turns as he considers where they are exactly, how his usual abilities could be gone, or at the very least, muted for the time being. The TARDIS simply being gone is perhaps the biggest point of concern on a long list of them. He would know if something had happened to her, he's not worried about that, but even if they were sabotaged and thrown off course, there would have been a trace of her, but now there's nothing at all.

He's not the type to feel fear in the usual way, not as many would, but deep down to his (annoying chilled) bones, the Doctor is deeply unsettled.

There's a roaring fire, though, there's food on offer, and there's a host who's kind when he doesn't need to be, for whom the Doctor will have endless questions sooner rather than later. For now, he finds himself happy to hunch close to the fire and warm his hands there while he takes in everything about their surroundings that he possibly can, cataloging it all like an encyclopedia in his mind. So far, there's — Chapter One: Oh That's Odd followed quickly by Chapter Two: If You're Worried This Might Get Boring Don't Worry It Only Gets Stranger From Here and Chapter Three: Bread! Lovely!

No detail goes unnoticed, down to the smallest and most subtle mannerisms of their host, and the others here.

Noticing someone nearby who appears to be lost in thought (at the very least), the Doctor softly asks — ]

You okay?

[ Well no, they wouldn't be, would they? But he finds it a helpful lead-in more often than not. Maybe... ]

[ ooc: happy to match brackets or prose~ feel free to throw a wildcard at me if you like! or PM me if you want to toss around any other ideas.

wildcard;

[spoilers]

( The first time she sees him is in the community hall. She'd volunteered to help the old man, Methuselah, with his feast, hoping she might learn something more useful about this place. And when she looks up, there he is. She so badly wants it to be true, she thinks she's imagined it and leaves moments later after burning her own fingertips and charring an innocent piece of fish.

She's a little better prepared when she sees him next, out in the streets of Milton in all his bowtied glory, and hasn't the man realized it's freezing out?. But this time, she keeps a firmer hand on her emotions. )

Hello, Sweetie.

( By now, she's caught up to him, smiling as she circles around to face him. Reaching for his hand, she rubs it between her own to warm it. And her hands are warm, maybe too warm. )

We should find you a better coat.

Eloise Emery (OC) | Vampire: The Masquerade

[witch_hunt]

I: ARRIVAL

[The first thing that strikes her as wrong, even before her eyes open or her mind clears itself of that unwanted refrain, is that she feels cold. The second thing is that her mind is quiet, still, for the first time in…

Well. Quite some time, suffice it to say. Long enough that she struggles to understand what this sudden solitude must mean.

Then, she opens her eyes, and she truly, earnestly wonders if she has lost her mind.

After all, spending this long in the sun should have surely reduced her to so much ash. She shouldn’t even be able to move her limbs due to the siren-call of day-sleep. She should be filled with a deep, primordial panic as the Red Fear robs her of her logic. She should use every drop of vitae left in her, in that madness, to sprint for shade like a wild animal.

But none of that happens. All she can really bring herself to do is stare at the sun, burning out her retinas with a hollow, shallow awe. All she can do is lie there in the snow and feel that potent nothingness.]

II: BAD LUCK

[It is the lot of the vampire to lead a wretched, skulking existence. Theirs is an inherited sin, reinforced with the atrocity they commit nightly to prolong their unworthy unlives.]

He-llo-oo? Is anybody there?

[Thus, all their ills are deserved, and all their woes justified. In this manner of philosophy, favored by the adherents to the more self-flagellating of Cainite faiths, it is only natural that the fortune ill favors them, and that tragedy anoints them as a thick oil.]

If there is, I'm hurt and I really, ah, need some help!

[Eloise, despite her expertise in the occult matters of the world, subscribes to a much more secular reason as to why she is stuck in a ditch with a sprained-to-uselessness ankle, calling out for help with a pained voice. It’s quite simple, really.

She is, indeed, a terrible and venerably old predator of man, who has killed many dozens and injured thousands over two long centuries of existing, and is deserving of punishment under most moral and legal systems. This was all done in cities, and not forests. Her ability to navigate the former? Refined to perfection. The latter?]

Please?

[The less said the better. Incompetence is only cute when it’s an affectation or harmless, after all. If only she still had the curse, this would be nothing to her, but if she still had the curse she would be so much ash on the wind. Alas.]

III: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

[Somehow, someway, she manages to get to the community hall, and proper treatment for her injury. In short order, she’s sitting by the fire with a bowl of soup, and she smiles at anyone who’ll approach her, bright as the flame she’s next to but a bit fragile still. As if it might go out at any moment, and that she’ll be gone with it.]

Hey. [Her tone is soft, warm. It shakes only slightly.] Doing alright?

[Or maybe you catch her when she’s not paying attention, and she’s just staring into her soup as if it might hold the answers to the world’s greatest mysteries. Whatever the case, she hasn’t touched it aside from stirring it with a spoon every now and then.]

IV: FAIR FORTUNE (CW: SELF-HARM)

[Maybe you’re just walking by, or maybe you were following the footsteps—two sets of tracks, a small human and a big dog—but whatever the case, passersby might happen upon a bit of an odd scene.

A girl, young and pretty with features pale enough to almost make her seem a frosted corpse and hair as white as the snow around her, sitting on a cache of flares and matches. A couple such items are spilled out around her, but most immediately of note is the lit match that she’s holding her hands. A lit match that she brings close to the fingers of her other hand, close enough to almost burn, and then she stops, just to begin the process elsewhere on her arm. Slight marks on the fair flesh of her hand show that she’s been at this for a little bit, and has messed up no small amount of times.

She doesn’t seem to notice you, enraptured as she is in her pointless task.]

II; WoD OC high five

[humeansfox]

Oh dear!

[A cheerful but worried voice responds to Eloise's call.]

I can help just, uh, please do not be alarmed.

[The voice's owner soon comes into view, and its obvious why she's prefaced herself with that. While humanoid in shape, she's covered in fur and has a fox-head. More small and delicate than the lupines Eloise has perhaps seen, and likely much more friendly.

She crouches near the ditch, two tails swishing behind her, as she extends a clawed hand.]

Do you think you can walk? I can try to carry you out if you need it.

[Kitsune were not the strongest of Changing Breeds, but she could at least try!]

senku ishigami / dr. stone

[sosoruze]

i. arrival - ten billion percent not exhilarating

[Senku awakens disoriented, confused, and cold, all of which are alarming but none so much as the last. The season has changed, but he doesn't know how. Senku Ishigami does not lose time, he'd counted the damn seconds for 3,700 years of petrification! And then there's the voice at the back of his mind, you are the Interloper. It couldn't be the Why-Man, who spoke in a synthetic voice when he (it?) spoke at all. So then...who? What happened to him? Where are the others?

Questions he doesn't really have time to waste dwelling on, he chides himself. It's winter, the worst-case scenario he'd counted all those seconds to avoid while he was in stone, but there's nothing for it now. If he wants a chance at surviving he needs to make a fire. Which means...searching for wood that isn't too wet to make a bow drill out of, and digging for dry ground to light it in, and hoping not to freeze to death in the process.

He manages to fashion himself a makeshift knife out of stone as he did once years before, but it's in gathering the wood where he hits a snag -- quite literally, tripping over a root buried in the snow and rolling down a hill as all his wood falls out of his arms. His ankle won't take his weight when he tries to stand up, either. His shoulders shake, trying to hold back the first slivers of despair.]

Haha, shit. After everything, this is it...?

[After all Byakuya went through to make sure future humanity might have a chance, the Hundred Tales, the platinum...no. Not yet, he can't give up yet. This is where one might find Senku limping through the snow slowly regathering his fallen wood and staggering toward somewhere dry and sheltered enough for building a fire. He could use a hand, honestly.]

ii. of fair fortune -> feast

[Or maybe nobody finds him, and it's the dog that happens upon him instead. It's clear right away that it's a domesticated breed, strange as it may or may not be, and that can only mean one thing -- people. Civilization, somewhere nearby. The settlements he's come across haven't necessarily always been friendly, in the time since he's awakened from petrification, but when his choices are to roll the dice between certain death and only possible death, it's a no-brainer, so he's not afraid to follow the dog where it wants to take him.

...It's not civilization it leads him to, precisely, but the abandoned cabin he winds up at provides something just as vital--shelter. There's even a winter coat left on the chair, a box of matches in the desk. He can make it through the night, and plan his next move.

Even better, the next morning...he sees it, out the window. Fires. Multiple fires, the kind he'd seen from Ishigami Village, way back then. The walk into town is a struggle with his busted ankle, but he makes it. Once he's had his first proper meal since awakening, he's ready to tackle the hunt for answers again. Turning to the nearest person, he asks:]

What country is this town in? And -- [his mouth twists, a little resentful (mostly at himself) at having to ask] what year is it?

iii. it's science time

[Once he's had an evening to recover from his unceremonious arrival, Senku's back on the horse and ready to tackle the newest problem at hand: the road out of Milton. Curiously enough, he'd found some of his old item pouches strewn around in the community hall, with a vial each of nitric and sulfuric acid, perfectly intact. And while he isn't ignoring the mystery of how that's possible -- he does have some bigger fish to fry. Or stone pathways to open up, as it were. His grin when he addresses the people still living in the community hall is perhaps a bit Too sharp.]

So we just need to clear the way out, right? Who wants to go shopping for a little science project?

ii (Hi It's Me)

[khatsudoom]

Hm. Now, aren't those good questions?

[It was a slender blond that spoke up next to him, with a knit hat he had salvaged from the rubbish pulled tight over his chin-length locks and ill-matched with the heavy, green cape that the man wore over his plain black tee. Shiro Ashiya looked over at the man with distant interest, and sipped at his hot tea in the cold morning outside.]

This seems to be neither of the lands I thought I would awaken in, [He added in a mild, conversational manner-- as if he were discussing something as trivial as the coupons he had found for an upcoming trip to the market. Ashiya's jaw subtly tightened-- he had expected a trap, and to be whisked back to a land on the edge of a bloody revolution. Not.... here.]

The one thing I can truly confirm is where this is not. Japan, I mean-- unless we somehow wound up in Hokkaido, but I see no reason why that would happen.

Lea McCoy | Star Trek (AOS comic-verse)

[biomedical]

arrival; the wilds

( North America wasn't where she expected to end up, pulled away suddenly and sharply from Mitchell's machinations, waking so quickly in the snow that she doesn't even register the cold at first. It hurts when she gulps in air, when she shifts and shoves herself to her feet, like her body's gone unused for a time, slightly numb from the layer of soft powder on her hair, her clothes.

The spruce she was huddled under looms tall overhead, solitary spectator to Lea's exhausted groan.

--

Guess there's something out there more powerful than you, Asshole, she grimly fumes to the universe later, trudging along the path with bramble scratches on her cheek and up the sleeves of her Science blue shirt. There's dried leaves in her hair, and she's favoring her left leg, teeth gritted from the deep ache radiating out from her ankle. Hopefully just a strain– nothing popped when she tripped, but she can't stop to look, not when she's half frozen and there's smoke over the treetops and she's so close to civilization. )

Goddamn rocks, ( she spits out, trying not to hurry when the forest looks to open up on the path ahead, promising an end to her determined hobbling, ) Goddamn tree roots–

( Just, not an end to her complaints. )

the feast

( Food and warmth are readily appreciated after that frigid hike into town. Though she could really do with more answers than she's given, Bones won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Once supped, and still thawing by the fire, she tends to her ankle.

It's... not something she relishes, wincing and grimacing as she shucks her boot and feels gently over her swollen foot. A tricorder would be perfect right now, but of course she had to show up in the ancient boonies, where a scanner like that is just a pipe dream, and there's only an elastic wrap to stabilize what she's rapidly sensing is, in fact, a sprain.

Bones blows out a sigh, closing her eyes against a brief flare of seething, impatient rage.

Could be worse. Could always, always be worse. Could've broken it, or cracked your head open, or–

One of the clips she's using to secure the wrap chooses, at that moment, to fly off and land in another interloper's lap. )

Sonuva–

( She lifts her gaze to the owner of the aforementioned lap, and presses her lips together. )

You mind?

Wildcard

( Bones here is from the Star Trek AOS comics, from a genderswap!alternate universe that eventually gets tossed in with much of the other AOS AUs due to a tantruming dumb jealous white dude with too much power. Though she won't be super-mobile (someone find her a walking boot pls), she'll still be intent on luring any obviously-injured folks to her in the Hall for some first-aid, or getting into any funky foraged mushrooms that people bring back!

Feel free to DM if you have questions! )

feast

[sosoruze]

[There's another young man who also has an apparently injured ankle sitting not far from her when the buckle falls in his lap. He's using one of the bedrolls from the cots to elevate his own ankle, but it seems that he's also busily working on something else, apparently boiling a plant of some kind over the fire and crushing it into a paste for a poultice.

When she addresses him, he puts up a finger in a one moment gesture, before handing over the bowl of paste along with the clip.]

Wormwood. [he explains, without much preamble] It's got anti-inflammatory properties, so it should help along with the wrap.

john irving | the terror

[extramuralise]

✒︎ i. |  OF FAIR FORTUNE

[ Unnerving is quite right, given that Irving has already rather had his fill of enormous and wild white-pelted snow beasts, but the lack of aggression its shown him so far thankfully keeps him from doing anything too rash-- keeps him from wasting more energy attempting to flee through the heavy snow, or getting himself lost in the woods, keeps him from trying to drive it off by finding rocks and branches to throw.

It is, of course, only a dog (albeit far too large of one for Irving's comfort) and not something much more dangerous like a bear, but who's to say whether it might be feral or not? Irving isn't particularly small of stature, no, but he's slender rather than strong, and a large dog like this could almost certainly overpower him easily if it wanted to... if it were hungry, and there's nothing and no one around Irving can see that could possibly help him if the dog did decide to attack. ]

Stay back, [ he hisses, arm extended forward uneasily to try ensuring the dog keeps a safe distance. ] Just... stay.

[ It cants its head to one side, looking relatively nonplussed, as well as utterly unintimidated, by all of Irving's high-strung discomfort, but then eventually it starts to walk, and for lack of any better alternatives out here in the open like this, Irving hesitantly begins to follow. It's hard to even see where they're going through all the snow and the seemingly endless expanse of trees, but the dog continues to lead as though it knows where its going, and surely it must have some better homing instincts than Irving does in such wild, unfamiliar territory-- after all, it is a dog.

Eventually a modest cabin emerges ahead like a mirage, and Irving, with chattering teeth and cheeks chapped bright red and raw from the wind, couldn't be any more pleased to see it. ]

Oh! W-well then, good dog, [ he grants, stumbling on numb legs and feet through the front door, which surprises him by being unlocked. ] Hello! Is anybody--

[ Calling to anyone that might already be occupying the space as he opens the door slightly wider to allow the dog to follow him inside, but to no response: the dog seems to have vanished just as quickly as it had originally appeared. Too bad, because despite Irving's initial misgivings, he's obviously now very grateful for the dog to have led him to surprisingly adequate shelter. ]

🌊 w i l d c a r d｡

[ Choose your own adventure! Hit me up with anything else, or PM / plurk me @ reggiemantle to discuss in further detail— and if you tagged me before on my previous TDM thread and would like to (more or less) pick up where we left off or wildcard a continuation, that's also absolutely fine with me! 💖 Happy to match style to either brackets or prose as well. ]

oh gosh, don't mind him tbh, I'M excited to see irving!!!

[notarat]

[ It's not often that you hear someone calling out loudly like that on the outskirts. Maybe in town, sure, where things were at least a little busier, but Billy is pretty sure not enough people actually live out here for there to be regular commotions like this.

So he figures it's got to be something. Maybe someone found some extra supplies that haven't been scavenged yet - making the man just curious enough to go look and see what's up.

.. a mistake, really. Because as soon as he walks up to the cabin and peers inside through the still open door, he instantly recognizes the man inside. There's no way you don't work as closely with a man as he has for years and not instantly recognize them, after all, even if it has been quite some time since you last saw them. And whereas with the other people from the ships he ran into here he could at least tell himself that the awkwardness could always be worse, that it could always be Lieutenant Irving instead-- well, that's no longer something he can tell himself to try and soothe his awkwardness and anxiety now, huh. At least Irving being dead meant he could no longer be confronted by the awkwardness of his lie whenever he saw the man.

He instantly makes his mind up to walk away. To pretend he was never here. Irving can't even see him yet, he doesn't even have to know Billy is here, and--

Of course he steps on just the crunchiest piece of snow as he takes a step backwards, instantly drawing attention. It makes him stop his attempt to flee right away before it could be noticed, having no choice but to face the inevitable and actually speak now they're making eye contact. ]

.. Lieutenant.

[ His tone is something demure - the usual for him, at least, being a relatively quiet and unassuming man when it comes to surface appearances - mixed with something surprised.

After all, he is seeing a ghost walking right now, other awkwardness aside.

(Briefly he wonders if that's what the others were thinking when he first showed up here too.) ]

Connor Wolf | Fables

[wolf_lover]

A. Arrival

I. He had no idea where he was or how he’d got there. The last thing he’d been aware of was being on another mission with the Shadow Players and now…..here. Well, wherever he was, it was fucking cold. Connor automatically tried to shift to his wolf form, which was much more suited to surviving in the middle of snow-covered woods. Then he discovered he couldn’t. All of his powers were gone, from flight to shapeshifting and even his wolf senses. They were all muted and out of reach.

While he’d taken being whisked away to who-knows-where fairly well, the loss of his magic hit him much harder. He’d been able to shapeshift since birth and it was as natural to him as breathing or eating was. Without that, he felt practically naked and vulnerable, far too vulnerable for his current situation.

So he did what any overdramatic young guy in his circumstances would have done. He started to freak out, curling up at the base of a tree with his back against it and his arms wrapped around his knees, which were tucked up to his chest. Connor kept talking to himself, trying to find some sense of calm in this situation despite the fear curling away inside of him like a snake. He was tougher than this, he was the son of the Big Bad Wolf for Christ sake, and he wasn't going to fall apart! .....Okay, maybe just for a few minutes. “You’re alright. You’re okay. The others will realize you’re gone any second now and then Feathertop will pull some magic plan out of his ass to come get you. You’re going to be okay. This is fine. You’re fine.” He was obviously not fine. If anyone came along, they may have wanted to snap the fairly handsome guy who looked to be in his early twenties out of it before he went into a full-blown nervous breakdown.

II. By time he reached the Community Hall, he’d found some measure of the usual bravery and determination within him that had had always managed to bolster him up. Connor was a bit suspicious about accepting food from an old man. Look, where he was from, an old person offering food usually meant they were a fairy or witch or warlock in disguise and would just as easily curse you as reward you for your actions. But hunger won out over all else and he finally accepted a bowl of soup after carefully watching to see what would happen to anyone else who ate. Ignore his table manners, his mother tried to instill them in him and only partially succeeded.

“What does the old geezer mean that the way out is blocked? Can’t we all just walk?” He asked the nearest person, emphasizing the question with movement as he flicked his spoon around.

B. Of Fair Fortune

Being genre-savvy about what looked like a magical dog mysteriously appearing to him meant Connor knew this was going to end in one of two ways: he’d either end up being led to an enchanted treasure trove of gold or to certain death. He eyed the plant dog warily. They didn’t look malicious but then neither did he most of the time. “Look, this is nothing personal, but if I end up in mortal peril thanks to you I swear to God I’m going to bite you hard.” Yep, he was definitely Bigby and Snow’s kid alright.

He followed after the wooly sheepdog, moving at a steady pace with the dog by his side. It didn’t seem like the animal was capable of speech so Connor stopped trying to get them to talk after the first couple of attempts. What he was starting to notice is that he was getting awfully hungry. Maybe this was a bad idea and he should have turned back. That was when he noticed someone else in the woods. He gave a friendly wave. “Care to join the party? This fuzzy fella looks trustworthy enough to follow and I’m sure there will be martinis and cocktail shrimp wherever we’re headed.”

C. Bad Pickings

Connor had grown up in a few different worlds. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) He was pretty savvy about how to survive in the woods, though generally he was usually on four paws and had a tail when doing so. He knew how to forage for food when it was a lean month. Of course, he sourly thought to himself, there was going to be a lot of lean months ahead. At least it looked like there was a nice crop of fat bunnies that one dude was cultivating. He could make a nice pair of gloves out of a couple of big ones once he was done with them.

But for today, he was off looking for alternative things that could still be digested. That was when he stumbled luckily upon a nice crop of mushrooms growing nearby some trees. He inspected them closely, not wanting to drop dead of poisoning should he gnaw on some of them. “Let’s see……these look like oyster mushrooms…..they should be safe to eat?” With all the recklessness of someone who still thought they were immortal (although in Connor’s case he had yet to figure out he wasn’t in this place,) he devoured a few of them.

He felt fine until he wandered about forty feet back towards where the town was at. Then he stopped as he realized he didn’t have a single clue as to what he was doing. The first person he came across he made a beeline for. “Uhhhh……a few quick questions. Where are we? And who are you?” Then he looked downwards and had a near panic attack as the shock set in. He’d forgotten he spent a majority of his time as a human, expecting to see himself as a canine instead. “And why do I look like this?!”

D. Wildcard

[Want a custom prompt? Hit me up at Light_shade or .lightshade on Discord!]

A-I

[bigbaddy]

At least with time it's getting easier to know when new people usually start to show up around here. Maybe not the exact time, sure, but it does seem to happen at regular enough intervals that Bigby starts keeping an eye out for anyone he doesn't recognize in the woods when he goes out to hunt - and maybe hunts a little bit more carefully, rather than getting hungry enough to just straight up start eating out in the woods. He's trying to have a better reputation, or at least one that doesn't involve greeting new people with blood all over his face, alright.

And it's probably an especially good thing today, Bigby figures. He definitely doesn't recognize the kid he spots out there near that tree in the woods, and judging by the other's body language, all curled up, said kid doesn't seem to be doing too well.

.. granted, that makes him wonder if he should be the first person to greet the kid, considering Bigby is well aware of how he often comes off, and also well aware that he has no idea what to do around these kids of people (kids, he means kids), but.. he's the only one around right now. What's he just going to do, leave the other out to cower in the woods by himself? At least he doesn't seem like a kid-kid, just relatively young, so maybe he can handle this.

Maybe? Hopefully.

He doesn't manage to catch Connor's words, only stepping over when the other is already done speaking. But thankfully for Connor, Bigby should be recognizable enough. Even if he's wearing a thick winter coat with the hood up, his face is entirely recognizable.

His voice, too, once he speaks up with: "C'mon, kid, you can't stay out here like this."

So just please come along with him to town without making this weird or difficult, okay?

Eren Jaeger | Attack on Titan | New Player, New Character (please read CWs in journal)

[abandonhumanity]

on the way to milton (cw: blood, injury)

[He's never been so cold in his life. Something isn't right. His heart feels like it's beating slower; his blood is heavy in his veins. His body feels sluggish and wrong. He has no memories of his father's, or of Kruger's, or of his own future.

[In the snowy, bitter woods on the path to Milton, he doesn't notice that someone is nearby, likely watching. They'll see an odd sight - Eren, raising his right hand to his mouth and biting down. It isn't a soft bite. Viciously, his teeth tear at his skin, ripping out chunks as blood blooms and drips down his injured hand. He tries again - again and again and again, mangling his right hand into a bloody mash of torn flesh.

[Nothing. He feels just like an idiot kid again. This isn't good...]

Goddammit.

methuselah's feast(cw: blood, injury)

[Warmth. That's all he cares about. The community hall is a reprieve that's more than welcome, the roaring fire momentarily assuaging Eren with its crackling warmth. He lingers by it, warming his hands. The right looks mangled, stained with blood, covered in vicious bite marks, clearly human. It hurts. And it hasn't healed yet. He's not used to that.

[It takes a while to break away from the warmth of the fire long enough to find a hot drink - also welcome. He feels like his insides are frozen solid. He's used to a higher natural body temperature - gone.

[Back to the fire. The time to relax is ending. As someone approaches nearby, perhaps with their own plate of food or cup of tea, he glances at them sideways. When he speaks, his voice is low - cold, but not cruel. It betrays very little emotion whatsoever.]

You. You're from the town, or somewhere else? [A face from another world, maybe.

[There's a question on Eren's mind. Has he caused all of this?]

bad pickings

[Eren grew up in a starving world. He knows how to forage. Of course, this world isn't his own, so it took some time to figure out what types of mushrooms were safe to consume. He doesn't think twice about eating one as he continues to search - feels he needs to, even, the second he picks it up.

[It's a chanterelle mushroom, and the effect is immediate. Eren doesn't particularly notice the change, but feels...good. That's...strange. He can't actually remember the last time he felt good. Has he ever? It doesn't matter. He feels good now, enough so that there's a smile on his face - you won't have seen that before. Even to a stranger, it looks strange on his face, unfitting. When he sees you, it's like seeing an old friend - except it's better than seeing an old friend, as seeing old friends back home made him feel more sick than anything.

[His greeting is...amiably, casual, lighthearted - nothing at all like Eren.]

Hi. [He extends a hand, full of other mushrooms of various kinds.] Try one. They're filling.

wildcard

((ooc: I'm happy to try anything! Hit me up on plurk at pantheraliam for plotting, or PM this journal! Or just write a starter and go for it.))

the feast —

[chuju]

[ It's strange to have been here long enough to see the wave of new arrivals. According to everything she's learned in the past weeks, this is how it works — new people arrive, waking up in the cold with no memory of how they got here, and two months later, another group finds themselves in the exact same situation. Lather, rinse, repeat. And still, they don't have any better idea of what is causing this.

It's strange, and frustrating, and horrifying. So, of course, Daisy has to try to do her part to "welcome" the newcomers. As if any of them are truly welcome here when that thing is just waiting to pick them all off.

With a worn purple backpack hanging off one shoulder and a slightly hideous, oversized plaid coat wrapped around her, she moves toward the fire, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand. The voice catches her attention and she turns to one of those new faces and decides she might as well start with this one. ]

Everyone from the town died before the first of us arrived. [ Her tone is practical, providing information in the way of someone used to working with facts that aren't always easy to stomach. ]

Logan | XMCU

[lasttoolong]

METHUSELAH'S FEAST
COMMUNITY HALL
cw: injury, degenerative illness

While it's not the first time Logan's woken up in a snow-choked forest in the middle of nowhere, it's the first time -- at least, that he can remember -- that he's truly felt the cold. He'd never noticed before the way his body had protected him from the weather, the subtleties of his healing factor keeping him upright and moving through the deep freeze, numbing his skin, pushing blood through his frostbitten extremities. He'd just accepted it. Moved on to whatever he needed to do. Survived, against all odds, again and again. It's what he's best at.

What he was best at.

Now, though, he's all too aware of the role his mutant physiology played -- because it's gone.

At first, he thought he'd been mistaken, confused from whatever had knocked him out hard enough to dump him somewhere in the rural backwoods he used to know so well, like a bad joke. He'd tried to ignore it, right up until the point where he'd popped his claws for the first time -- and stopped, staring, once he'd pulled them back in, at the thin streams of blood running down his fingers from the wounds in his knuckles. The wounds that weren't healing.

He's a hulking shape in the corner of Methuselah's hall. He accepts a roll of bandages from the old man, ignoring his look of quiet pity, so he can clean and bind up his knuckles. The wounds ache, but it's not the pain, but a far deeper fear that occupies Logan's mind, keeping him silent and watchful when he pragmatically accepts food and drink and sits to watch the residents and other newcomers, trying to figure out what kind of shit he's ended up in this time.

BAD PICKINGS
FOREST
cw: degenerative illness

The little township isn't unfamiliar. Logan's spent plenty of time in places like it over the years, frontier toeholds edging out into the Canadian wilderness and backwoods logging towns dying a slow death. They're the places he retreats to when he's had his fill of humanity and needs somewhere to drink where nobody's going to ask him any stupid questions. If it wasn't for the talk of Interlopers and other worlds, and the concerning lack of his mutant powers, he'd assume he's just spent a little too much time at the bottom of a bottle and ended up in one of his old haunts.

Even so, he's ready to make himself useful, mostly because it means he's less likely to be get dragged into a conversation if he's already busy. It also gives him something to think about besides the bandages around his hands and the ways the lack of healing factor is starting to grate at him. He can put himself to work hunting and skinning for the pot, trying to ignore the way he has to stop frequently to breathe and spit blood onto the snow.

It means he can at least test the remains of his enhanced senses. His nose is dulled, but not gone. Hunkered down, he sniffs out the mushrooms before he finds them, brushing off the frost for the early crop.

Anyone trying to sneak up on him won't succeed, though he doesn't turn around. Just twists the mushroom in his fingers, breath smoking on the cold air, before he addresses his audience:

"Feelin' hungry?"

WILDCARD / OOC

[ OOC: Also happy to have wildcards! I haven't decided whether to throw in Wolverine from 616 or the XMCU yet so this could go either way, we're playing fast and loose with canon details here ok ;-; ]

METHUSELAH'S FEAST

[webshootings]

Peter's been sneaking peeks at the huge man in the corner for a little while now. He doesn't recognize him but it's hard to miss a guy that looks like he'd grab your legs and snap them like a wishbone.

Peter quietly tells himself that he will be doing everything he can to stay on this guy's good side. He looks injured, the bandages being wrapped haphazardly around his knuckles in a way that makes Peter frown.

That's when he realizes he's outright staring and he shakes himself, pushing away from his spot across the hall. He grabs a glass of water and decides to just meet the brick fortress of a man head on. He comes over, stands in front of him and offers him the glass of water.

"My name's Peter and I'll be your bartender today," he says, amusement in his voice before he shrugs. "Not much of a bartender since this is just water."