April 2024 Test Drive Meme

[singmod]

APRIL 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 — FROM FROTH-CORRUPTED LUNGS: The heavy fog plaguing the Northern Territories takes a far more deadly and sinister turn.

PROMPT THREE — SHARP CLAWS, YAWNING MAWS: Interlopers come face to face with another native animal to the Northern Territories stalking the rockier areas — and unfortunately, these feline beasts have also been warped by the Aurora.

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 April will find themselves waking up in a world filled with freezing cold fog, cold enough that it will feel as if your skin is burning. A kind of cold that will not shake easily. It will be easy to get lost in the fog. Best hope there's someone out here that might come across you to help you find your way.

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 smell it through the fog: the scent of smoke that seems to cling in the still air. Fire. Not just one, but several perhaps. Civilization...?

Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the foggy mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights, even if it may appear a little eerie in the half-light gloom: 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.

Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building where many people seem to gather: 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. Everyone looks as though they could faint from the cold at any second, damp and shivering.

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, this fog has made it so difficult.” 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.

FROM FROTH-CORRUPTED LUNGS

WHEN: The month of April.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/extreme weather; poisonous fog; potential respiratory/lung-related illness/injury; potential burn injuries; themes of peril

A thick fog has descended onto the Northern Territories as April comes, often difficult to navigate in and a kind of cloying damp that often brings a certain kind of wicked chill to Interlopers out travelling in it. The kind that sinks in one’s bones and takes too long to be chased away with heat and dry clothes. Sometimes, it feels almost suffocating, like it’s exhausting to be out in it — as if one might feel more like they’re underwater than on dry land, struggling to breathe if they’re out in it for too long.

It’s certainly a miserable affair for those in this world, the cold was bad enough without this.

And certainly, it can get even worse.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, the strange thickness of the fog in the pale Spring light, but you notice in certain patches there’s… an almost green tint to the fog. You don’t have time to look at it for long. It descends upon you with a fluid steadiness, silent in its approach.

To touch the fog with bare skin, a hand, even the exposed face — you will be met with a sudden burning pain, far different to the biting cold pain of the rest of the fog. As soon as the green fog comes into contact with you, it slowly begins to burn at you — searing away at any flesh, a slow and terrible experience.

To breathe it in will be an even worse experience: it will feel as if one is slowly inhaling tiny fragments of glass, and each breath will be painful and suffocating. Coughing up blood is likely, and being out in it for too long will bring a slow, agonising death of suffocation.

Heading indoors is the best bet to ensure survival, with plugging up any doors and windows or drafty spaces to ensure the fog doesn’t seep inside. After that, it seems like the only thing you can do is wait it out. Hopefully you're stuck inside with a friendly face, and somewhere with a fire. Otherwise, it's going to be a bad time trapped inside waiting it out. The fog will eventually dissipate, and all that Interlopers will be able to see is the usual cold fog — but that could take hours of waiting.

Burns to the skin can be treated with typical medical care, and bathing the wounds will cleanse them of any lingering poison, but Interlopers should take care of signs of infection in the days afterwards. For those who suffer from inhalation of this green fog, Methuselah will direct them to Reishi mushrooms — known for their antibiotic healing properties and can be found in abundance in the world. Interlopers will find that breathing in the steam from boiling and steeping these mushrooms in water will soothe their lungs and help in the healing process.

SHARP CLAWS, YAWNING MAWS

WHEN: April, onwards.
WHERE: Milton wilds; Milton Mines (Lakeside Entrance) area; The Ravine area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: animal attacks, altered wildlife, gore, possible character injury/death, possible animal injury/death.

Certain kinds of wildcats are native to Canada and thus the Northern Territories. They are elusive animals, often keeping to themselves and have largely gone unseen by the Interlopers during their time here in this world. But the world is changing, and it has long been understood that wildlife has been altered due to the Aurora’s influence — particularly with wolves. Unfortunately, these solitary and evasive felines will not remain this way for long.

The wildcats tend to stick to the more mountainous areas of the Northern Territories: Milton’s outskirts being a primary example of this, but also the sheltered and rocky passage Interlopers must take if they are to travel through the mines and down the train tracks that lead into Lakeside. It is here in particular that they make their appearance with the recent footfall between the areas.

For newer Interlopers, it is a frightening sight. For some Interlopers who have been in this world for some time, it is an all too familiar sight to behold but no less terrifying. These beasts are warped by the Aurora and are far bigger and faster than any usual wildcat, with huge, hulking bodies, elongated fangs and unlike wolves: they can climb. Green, glowing smoke curls from their bodies and eyes, a kind of electrical current rippling over their coats with a strange shimmer. They lurk from above and wait for the opportune moment to strike — a far more silent and deadly attack than the wolf packs of last year. But if you’re paying attention, you might be able to spot them before they make their move.

These altered beasts will come no more than three at a time, but will usually attack alone. They will work with a frenzied determination to bring you down and make you their next meal. Cats, after all, are obligate carnivores. They will enjoy giving chase, and running will be the worst thing to do in dealing with them. It is best to stand your ground and try to fight back this way.

They are frightened of flames, and loud noises from gunfire or flares will keep them at a distance — but it’ll take a decent amount of ammunition to take them down, much like their canine counterparts Interlopers already encountered. Taking one down will be no small feat, but there will likely be the reward of a thick, warm pelt for those interested.

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.

FROM FROTH-CORRUPTED LUNGS

1. Skin open to the elements is at the most risk of being burned, so it's best to wrap up/cover any bare skin. Covered skin would eventually burn if Interlopers spent enough time in the fog to have their clothes saturated by the damp.

2. Breathing in the fog is the most pressing issue for everyone as a whole. The green fog can affect Interlopers who don't breathe.

SHARP CLAWS, YAWNING MAWS

1. Bobcat, Canada Lynx, and Cougar are the three kinds of wildcat native to Canada. Due to the Aurora's influence, these wildcats are bigger, faster and stronger than typical wildcats — with Cougars being the largest of the three.

2. Killing them is difficult, but not impossible. Scaring them will be far easier to accomplish than killing them.

3. Wildcat activity will continue onwards from April, but will reduce with the Interlopers' efforts to fight them back.

4. Wildcat is technically edible. But not advised due to parasites. Characters are still welcome to harvest the wildcats they kill, however.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Comments

[tinstar]

It was good that she made noise beforehand, letting him spot her in the snow before she speaks up and despite how the rest of him fussed about being secure, he couldn't think she was anything other than help. Something that was blissfully reinforced when he spies the blanket she's pulling out of her bag. The best he can do is nod at the offer of coffee and take the blanket when offered, sweeping it around his head and shoulders, shuddering again involuntarily.

"Goddamn am I happy to see someone else; I was startin' to think I was gonna die out here. Thank you. If it's hot, I'd take just about anything but how much further into town?"

Please tell him it wasn't far, his everything was screaming.

[pythianwoman]

Zoey wishes she had room for more than a blanket in her bag, but sadly her bag with the extradimensional space hadn’t made the journey. She makes a mental note to toss in a few extra sets of gloves and scarves for next time.

“You’re welcome. Hope you like your coffee black. .” She pulls out the thermos and calls the heat of fire into her hands to make sure the coffee is hot before she offers the whole thermos to him. “It’ll help keep your hands warm.” Then she turns her attention towards the question he’d asked. “It’s not that far, but probably further than you’d like. Come on, let’s get you to the community hall.”

[tinstar]

"My preferred way of havin' it, if I'm honest," he huffs, breath clouding as he gratefully takes it and pops a button on his wool coat so he can tuck it in between his outcoat and denim jacket. Now wasn't exactly the most opportune time for a coffee break, as much as his gullet would like it, his core would like it more.

"Are you the forward rescue watch, out here in all this weather?"

[pythianwoman]

Even without her gift, it had been easy for Zoey to anticipate the way he hugs the thermos close, and made sure it was hot enough to serve as a makeshift hot water bottle for the rest of their walk; by the time they get to the community hall it’ll be drinkable temperatures. And it’ll keep him warm in the meantime.

She laughs softly and shakes her head. “I suppose you could say that. I try to keep an eye out for new folks, and I like to keep myself busy.” Inactivity makes her itch, sometimes. Especially here, without her gift of sight and no way to see what’s coming before it shows up on their doorstep. And there’s always plenty that can be done.

[tinstar]

It was a rare moment when he was grateful for having the experience of winter that he did. Of course, his winters were rarely this angry and not always frequent but always this relenting when they did come. They also never came with hot thermoses.

"Savin' lives, you're savin' lives," he huffs as they push on. "My name is Raylan, by the way. How many folks do you find out here usually?"

[pythianwoman]

“Zoey,” she says with a slight smile, keeping a careful eye on him as they trudge through the snow. Sticking close enough to catch him if he stumbles. “Enough. More than I’d like. Either out here somewhere or they show up at the community hall after a bit of a walk. And regularly enough that there’s a pattern. Or something resembling one.” She’s not sure if it’s truly a pattern or the only time that whatever drags them all here is only able to at certain times due to… she doesn’t know, the Aurora, or a weakness in some boundary that makes it possible. “There’s a whole lot more questions than there are answers. Unfortunately.” And it still fucking rankles, that they know so little about… ANYthing, here.

You’d think, after all the worlds she’s been to, that she’d be used to it. But NOPE. Still bothers the shit out of her.

[tinstar]

The heat from the thermos was enough to give him a little more strength and stability, as was a measurable goal to get to. Give the man a goalpost and he'll hit it. With it, without her to keep him company, he would have been in a much worse way. He couldn't think about how his fingers and toes felt - one foot in front of the other, keeping her in a steady spot in his vision.

"Least someone's askin' them." Questions are important, even if immediate answers were lacking. He's too cold to be disheartened, there'd be time for that later. "Any answer to where the hell we are?"

That seemed like an easy one, even if they didn't know anything else.

[pythianwoman]

“Oh yeah. Have to ask them. Even if the answers are incredibly fucking scarce.” Which is how she’s ended up with an old-fashioned information (and conspiracy) wall in the house she’d claimed as her own. Painstaking notes keeping track of questions and any tiny snippet of information that might be useful.

“That at least, is an answer we DO have. We’re in Milton. Which in turn is in northern Canada, somewhere.” Or some version of Canada, possibly. She’s not sure if the strangeness is because this is a different version of Canada, or if something happened to this area specifically to make it… exceedingly fucking weird. Or both, honestly. It could be both.

[tinstar]

That was good. Any information that led to any fraction of an answer, collecting it, was a lot of work. Important work that he wouldn't be able to help himself but try to help with once he gets his bearings.

"I'm sorry, Canada?" It was a good thing they had a goal to be walking towards because Raylan almost considers stopping at that reveal but the bite of cold was very insistent. If he was in Canada, if he was drugged, that was some pretty powerful drugs.

"I was in a barfight in Miami less than an hour ago." It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, he did, it was just gonna take a few minutes to wrap his head around.

[pythianwoman]

Her expression is apologetic and understanding. “I know. It’s a lot. Whatever, however we end up here doesn’t seem to be much bothered or constrained by geographic location. Or the space-time continuum, either, for that matter.” There’s more he needs to know, but it’ll keep until she gets him to the community hall to thaw. One thing at a time. Especially when it only gets WEIRDER.

She looks over at him. “You all right? I’m not a doctor, far from it, but I can patch you up in a pinch if you need it.” And ice… isn’t going to be an issue.

[tinstar]

The furrow of his brow gets as deep as it can on his features, eyes shifting in a habitual check on the trees around them before they settle back on Zoey. Thankfully, he was a reader when he felt like it, and his choice of book was generally sci-fi, so he's got some understanding of what that all meant. That didn't stop him from wanting more detail.

"Huh?" It took another full half second before his brain skids back into gear. Right, his face. A split in his eyebrow, a split in his lip, bruise flowering on his cheek - the ache of it all blended to well with the punishing cold.

"Oh-" He shakes his head. "I'm fine. Had and given worse. It'll be gone in a week an a half. Pretty sure I can avoid the stitches this time. Wasn't havin' a great night to start with, this is just a shitty cold cherry on top." Bitching wouldn't get him out of the storm any faster or back home any faster, so he wouldn't waste the energy on it.

"But I appreciate the offer. Handy skills to have around out here, I imagine. Keep you busy?"

[pythianwoman]

His face, and the mention of the bar fight in Miami not an hour ago. He hadn’t looked like he was in immediate need of medical attention, but better to check. Shock and the cold might have made it less noticeable to him.

“Ooh, yeah. Ending up here isn’t a good way to end a night.”

Zoey shakes her head. “Less busy than you might think, fortunately.” Except in regards to herself, anyway. It had come in handy when she’d fallen through the floor of that burned out husk of a house. (Not that she’d thought it was done burning at the time.) She tends to keep her injuries to herself if at all possible, so she hasn’t had the need to call on anyone with more medical knowledge. “There’s at least one or two far more medically inclined soul among our number.”

She can keep people from immediately dying (even more so with her newly built in ability to cauterise wounds, probably), and she’s aces at patching up injuries. Less complicated things. Plus more historical medical practices. Honey’s antibacterial properties, what medicinal properties different plants have. That sort of thing.

But more complicated things? That’s a very hard NO.

[tinstar]

Just about as far away from a good night as one could but agreeing felt like dipping his toes into that bitching he just swore he wouldn't.

"Good. Medical knowledge tends to be short out in the wild." His lips were starting to burn and he couldn't help the 'Thank god' that he breathes when he sees the light flickering in the community hall. He could really use that coffee and a breath out of this wind.

"Fraid all I know about is bullets and I'd rather not put that knowledge to use."

[pythianwoman]

“And without electricity most of the time, we’re making do with what we can.” She’s thankful that she’s up on more… esoteric and historical medical methods. “We’ve lucked out that we’ve found some medical equipment that will be more than useful… when we have electricity.” Unless there’s some way to jury-rig a way to keep it running. Maybe they can use the damn, somehow. Or else hope that the Aurora gives some people electrical powers.

“Hopefully you won’t need to,” she tells him. “But I’m afraid you probably will, sooner or later.” It’s matter of fact, and a little tired. There’s a lot to deal with here. A lot he’s going to need to be told about. One thing at a time. For now she wants to get him warm and settled. And thankfully they're almost there.

[tinstar]

"Ain't the most fun way to make sure folk don't die but I suppose if it worked for the folks of old.." They couldn't complain much, or doing so would be in bad taste.

"It'd be a hellva sweet dream to think I won't have to use it, but I'd like to aim for puttin' it off for as long as possible." The saddest 'badumtish' goes through his head. "Guess the wild game around here will decide how soon that is."

He picks up a little speed and length in his stride as they get closer to the door and he doesn't hesitate in pushing his way in, shuddering hard as he shakes off his shoulders. He takes a glance around, waiting for Zoey to join him. She knows the place better, maybe there was a process - a lot of a lot to take it.

Methuselah (Or who Raylan saw only as a man clearly older than God and Dirt who held purpose in his eyes) was already glancing over, likely noting his being a new arrival.