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

scotswood 🚄 original

[scotswood]

—maybe you're the same as me.

( you are the interloper. )

No shit.

( The comment comes from Scotswood's lips before she even thinks about it, dry and unamused and definitely more reflex than actual conversation. She knows the score, or at least she knows the general idea here.

It's impossible to ignore the differences. The way her gut twists, the chill down her spine, the urge to flinch and draw away from the weak trickle of sunlight. The lack of any information in advance of being sent here (HQ are a lot of things, but even they don't just toss one of their people into a new world without any information). She draws in a sharp breath between her teeth, sends thanks to the sky that her hair tie is on her wrist, and pulls her hair out of her face before she moves.

The dread gnawing in the pit of her stomach can wait. Right now, she needs to figure out what is going on. Cupboards with doors left hanging open, shelves bare but for a thick layer of dust, and the distinct musk of mould which has Scotswood wrinkling her nose. That something has gone wrong is obvious, not just in her appearing here, but in whatever caused this house to be evacuated. )

... Dammit.

( There's nothing more to be found here, so Scotswood takes the first door she finds — thankfully, the kitchen connects directly to the outside — and immediately wishes she had been anywhere but central Texas before she arrived here.

It's fucking freezing, and her clothes aren't exactly made to block out the chill. She glances back, wondering if it might not be better to hunker back down in that house, join the people who went rummaging through the place and do the same, try to find a coat or at least a blanket. Or does she dip further into this pea soup and pray she happens to be a few yards from actual civilisation?

Her steps stutter, torn between forward and back, until something moves in the fog and her attention flies towards it. A shadow, moving. A vaguely humanoid??? shape?

Fuck it. Good enough. )

Hey! HEY! ( She picks up her pace, the hope of assistance, or answers, or maybe even both, enough to help her brace against the cold. ) Over here!

( She's waving and everything! )

—we see things they'll never see.

( Arriving here? Fucking sucked, thanks for that. Scotswood doesn't exactly settle after she arrives, either. Everything she finds out another point in the HQ may be bastards, but even they wouldn't sanction this column. No one who recognises her call sign. People from places that weren't even close to dying.

It's all so... random. And things haven't felt truly random in a long, long time.

She spends another day braving the fog, because although being soaked by damp mist is annoying, sitting around and waiting for the pieces to come together is worse. She doubts it's going to be an easy, all sorted by the weekend, affair, but she's used to that now.

It can't be as bad as her first deployment, right?

She walks slowly, the thick fog shrouding everything from her sight, the humidity making the cold even more pronounced despite the fact she's long since grabbed some appropriate clothing for the weather.

She swears under her breath, picks her way through the settlement with careful steps, reaching out to steady herself against a nearby building when the ground beneath her gets thick with mud and slip.

It's then she sees it. Kind of. A shimmer. A soft shift of colour at the periphery of her vision which she almost writes off as just a trick of this shitty weather, at least until she hears the scream.

Ah, fuck. Her head snaps around, and it's still too damn foggy to make out just who made that noise, but there is definitely someone stumbling, shifting right by the weird green shit. ...Is it getting bigger? She doesn't hang around to figure that out, lifting her feet out of the mud and charging towards the blossoming green.

And, more importantly, the person in trouble. )

Come on!

( She reaches a gloved hand for their arm, attempting to grab and drag the person with her. Where? Who the fuck knows. Maybe that building she was leaning on. )

—wildcard / info.

( hit me with anything! feel free to DM me to discuss things.
And here's your TL;DR because OC: she is a worldhopping agent who works for a multiversal HQ (don't look at me I am shit at naming organisations) which is tasked with saving worlds from their apocalypses. she's physically 17 and technically dead, but has been working for HQ for at least 20 years. NEGL I am still hashing out details so this is more voicetesty than anything. )

[aetherialshackles]

[It is fucking freezing, yes, but Erich is lucky enough to be a lightbringer so he doesn't feel the cold as he used to. And he wanders through the woods often enough to know how to navigate the area, at least- if he meets wolves, he's also quick enough to climb trees nowadays. He's a survival expert- at least compared to what he started as.

Anyway, he is braving the cold, despite everything, because the Feast is about to begin and he knows more people are bound to arrive to Snowville soon enough, if he can find and direct some of them to Milton then it'll be for the best, right? that's why he has a couple of basic coats under his arms and is using a piece of chalk to mark some trees with arrows to show the new interlopers where to go- hopefully it'll be useful for someone, right?

And apparently his trip had at least some meaning, since he does hear someone calling his name and when he turns his head he finds himself looking at someone who clearly isn't dressed for the weather.]

Oh, HEY! [He starts walking in her direction, offering a small smile and sliding the chalk in his pocket. Erich is just a tall man with bright orange hair, red eyes and... dressed pretty much like a priest with a silly bright blue jacket, pink gloves and a green hat, not the best mesh of colors but beggars can't be picky.] You just arrived, I assume? Here, pick one- it's cold out there. [Congrats on stating the absolute obvious, Erich.]

[scotswood]

( Finally, some good luck. Part of her — the part which thought turning back would be a better option — had braced to encounter something, or someone, ready to turn her into a meal. ... Not that they'd have much luck with that, but she can still feel pain and would prefer not to.

A person with jackets and an apparent familiarity with this place? So much better than what the worst recesses of her mind were fearing, and she groans with relief at the sight of coats. Really. Couldn't this place wait until she went somewhere experiencing an ice age? )

Thanks. ( She spares the options barely a glance, grabbing whatever's closest and throwing it on. Blessed protection. ) What's the story?

( What is going on, and why didn't HQ know shit about it? )

[aetherialshackles]

[Considering they do know when people will arrive, more or less, it's only logic for him trying to find potential new interlopers considdering most of them reach Milton half naked, right?

He approaches her, letting the woman pick her coat and nodding before turning his head toward the little settlement. Time to at least accompany her back, after that he'll get back to the wilderness to... look for more. With his little fire powers -considering he got the Lightbringer gift- he at least has the ability to... handle the cold a bit more.]

Don't mention it. [What's the story, huh?] LEt's say you've been taken from your world, like me and many others. We're interlopers here and... well, we're all trying to survive around here. There's more, actually, but... I think we should at least take you to our main settlement where you will find warm clothes ad food, first.

By the by, I'm Erichthonios.

we see things they'll never see

[bigbaddy]

[ Under normal circumstances Bigby may have provided a little bit more resistance to someone attempting to drag him along, but under the current circumstances? He knows he has to get out of this green mist. He knows it's bad news, but it sneaked up on him before he had a chance to get out by himself, and he can feel it practically sapping his energy with every single step he takes in an attempt to get himself out of it.

So when something snatches his arm and tugs, he doesn't tug back. He just allows himself to be dragged along, focusing more on his feet to ensure he doesn't trip in the middle of attempting to move along in the direction he's being dragged in.

He lets out a breath that's heavier than the usual, his body feeling like it's absolutely been wrecked. ]

Stay-- [ Bigby starts, attempting to form words with his gruff, but tired voice. ] Stay away from-- From the green-- Shit.

[ Even though she manages to drag him along into the regular mist, he can still feel the effects from before lingering. ]

It's-- It's fucking poison or something.

maybe

[solitarysoul]

[The figure pauses as she calls out and turns towards her voice. He starts moving towards her.]

Do you need help?

[He cries out in return.]

Uh, a-aside from being lost with no idea where you are.