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singillppl2024-04-06 07:44 pm
singmod) wrote in singillppl2024-04-06 07:44 pm
Entry tags:
April 2024 Test Drive Meme
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
1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.
2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.
3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.
4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.
5. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. 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.
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.
no subject
In contrast, Damian's outfit is a fair bit darker than Jason's probably used to, replacing the black, red, green and yellow with black, red, grey and... still yellow. He carries himself just a little differently.
Although, maybe it's the layers of animals pelts he's coated his costume with weighing him down.]
Which is probably why it's such a big deal here. [Being thrust into hell. A fresh experience for any Canadian. No wonder they're all dead.
It's almost a joke.] We're completely cut off from the outside world, there's one town and one lakeside resort that we have access to. No electricity works, all powers seem to have been blocked off, and there's a monster that shows up and terrifies people to death.
[He should probably mention Tim before Tim breaks his other arm trying to beat Jason down. He's already barely useful in his current maddened and paranoid state, he doesn't need an armless Tim. Later. On the way back.
A plan... He's already been here for too long, already let his lead on the League of Lazarus slip - and he's no closer to finding a way to counter the greater threats they all face. So far his priority has been finding ways to improve their conditions in the short term.]
One step at a time, for now. We're looking for other newcomers.
[He'd love to say that he doesn't care what happens to Jason - or that he completely trusts Jason not to get mauled by a giant monstrous cougar - but in reality it's probably safer for both of them if they stick together for now.]
no subject
granted, it's cold as hell out here, jason's feeling it through his gear so he knows damian is, too. he'd called it violent; given how jason feels it biting at his nose, he's inclined to agree with that assessment. the lack of power is going to be an inconvenience, a monster whose goal is to terrify people to death sounds like just another tuesday for their crew. manageable, even if everything else'll likely make it harder.
he appreciates the run down regardless. waking up somewhere unknown isn't new, jason can't count the number of times he's taken a knock to the head hard enough to put him out while the villain of the week takes their turn trying to beat the shit out of him for information. job hazards, and all. )
I'm down an arm. ( a jerk of his head towards his right, to the hand he's been avoiding using. ) Fucked a few ribs, but it's not bad enough to slow me down any.
( would be, if jason wasn't as stubborn as the rest of them. but he's sure damian gets the message: watch his right, pretty please. )
no subject
Oh for the love of god, not you too. [Letting slip that there's someone else in a moment of impulsive snippiness. Fine. If Jason picks up on it, he'll explain. Otherwise, there's no reason to dwell.
When did Jason break his arm? Based on what remained of Jason's helmet, he can make some... rough guesses, based on where in the timeline he came from. It doesn't have the stupid lips, so it's not that long ago. Some time after Damian's own death at least.
He and Jason only actively got into regular contact after Damian's original Titans team largely moved on, after he let Kid Flash join him for the new team. And that was...
Ah.
Penguin. He remembers that.
Damian's exasperation at Jason's injury softens a tad, replaced only with a grimace brought on by an uncomfortable reminder of something he'd rather not think about.
He doesn't feel the need to clarify that he gets that message - it's obvious.]
We probably won't see any combat. Potentially we might find a few wolves, and I can handle them fairly easily. [He didn't bring his bow, but batarangs will do. Besides, it's not like Jason would be useless in a fight with only one arm.]
no subject
he especially doesn't mention it, because he can see the wheels turning. knows the moment damian's expression shifts, it's because he knows exactly what bullshit jason had been getting himself into before he'd woken up cold and even more pissed. it's not surprising: jason wasn't quiet, bruce wasn't subtle, though he figured he'd at least have time to categorize his own injuries before everyone else got to.
but damian is different. different gear, covered in pelts, looks a little older, even if jason would still categorize him as a runt. it's not matching up. unless it's meant not to. he doesn't like that either. jason moves to pick up the hood, to clip what's left of it onto his belt, then starts towards damian. )
I'm sure you'd fit in with 'em real nicely. ( what wolf pack doesn't want a feral kid running around with them. ) Just give me a warning if you're planning on feeding me to your new pals, would you? So I can get a running start.
( we probably won't see any combat feels a bit optimistic, considering jason's first instinct was to pull a knife out on the closest living thing. granted, that's jason. he'll run with it. especially given that focusing on damian feeding him to his new wolf pack is safer territory than bringing up anything else. )
no subject
But he's sure the gears are turning in his head too. Coming to conclusions. If there's one thing Damian can say for Jason, it's that he's never acted like he's a bomb waiting to go off. Not in the same way that Tim Drake still does.
Well, he has, but with the understanding that he too is a bomb that is going off near constantly. Which is worse in some ways, a relief in others.
He wishes he could live among the wolves. He won't reveal this to Jason, but early on he certainly made attempts to wrangle them. It did not go well.] They've been turned blood thirsty by the Aurora. You'll see soon enough.
And if I'm feeding you to anyone, it's Batcow. [If Batcow didn't adore Drake, he would consider feeding them both as a meal deal. Unfortunately, she has her favourites.
He stops short. Holds up a fist like the brash asshole that he is, and kneels down in the snow.]
Tracks.
[Not wolves. Feline. A cougar? Way too big. Mountain lion, maybe? Damian makes an irritated noise.]
no subject
( eat him. but jason cuts himself off when damian holds up a hand, when he's kneeling, and jason's - leaning forward a little to look at what he's looking to. tracks. yep. sure is what that is, and they're big. the kind of tracks that jason's fairly sure belong to something at least four times the size of damian himself.
the knife is back in his hand, blade resting carefully between his index and middle finger as eyes scan the treeline the tracks are trailing off towards. )
I'm no expert, ( voice low, not that he suspects speaking quietly is going to help any if they're nearby still. big cats have big ears. and given the state of the snow around the tracks, he's leaning towards them still being uncomfortably close. ) but that paw looks bigger than your head.
( and jason's fresh out of c4. he takes a slow step back, eyes scanning the treeline behind them. damian's got eyes ahead, it's good enough for him. )
How far off's the closest shelter?
( are they making a run for it, or is jason fighting a cat. )
no subject
It's only now that he comes to regret spending so much time in Lakeside - tinkering with the dam and clearing the way for other settlers. There's clearly some new monster - a giant mutated cat of some kind.
Like the snake.]
Aurora-twisted. [Damian comments idly, realizing that Jason has no idea what that means but not particularly caring.] We'll need to kill it.
[He stands up, peers out forward into the cold with an irritated click of his tongue.]
The cabin I woke up in isn't far. But if we leave the creature on it's own, it might hunt the other newcomers.
no subject
jason sucks in a breath, mouth twisted into an irritated little scowl, but he's reaching for a knife.
they're fighting a big cat. sure. they've done weirder shit before. )
I've got your six. ( with a nod forward, in the direction of the tracks. ) Long as you'll fill me in later, since I've got no idea what the hell you're going on about.
( he'll watch damian's back regardless, but the point stands. )
no subject
So he just nods. He has roughly ten batarangs left on his belt. Not enough to share without cutting into his supply. But Jason's not in a state to be a melee combatant currently, so he fishes a set of five out and hands them out.]
Keep track of them.
[Works better than a knife right now. He doesn't feel the need to explain that
Damian moves forward, following the tracks. Because they continue, and continue. Leading, as he suspected... towards the cabins.
There's a very simple way to get their attention.]
Get ready. [He regrets leaving his bow at home. He regrets leaving his sword even more. But he has his bare hands, and that's always been enough.
He puts his fingers to his lips, and whistles sharp enough to echo outward. In the blistering awful fog, he can see it now. It turns, prowls, and starts running toward them.]
no subject
his mouth stays shut. the knife in his hand gets put back into its sheath, and he takes the batarangs. pockets those, too, then - reaches for the knife again. empty hands are only good when one intends on avoiding coming off as threatening, and versus a massive cat-beast like what they're after, jason would rather be big and terrifying. )
I won't lose your toys.
( mostly because he's not planning on using them to begin with, if he can otherwise help it. damian moves, and jason follows--a few steps behind, paces even with the brat's. he says get ready, and jason bends his knees, ready to lurch forward if necessary.
but damian makes a target out of himself, whistling loud enough to get the cat's attention. good in most situations, the kid can handle himself. bad when he's got empty hands and a determination to protect however many others he's anticipating being around here. they're all reckless idiots at times, jason knows that well.
but against a giant beast of a cat that's apparently aurora-twisted, whatever that means, jason would prefer for damian not to make himself look like a tasty cat treat.
still, he waits. watches it rush towards them, watches damian, eyes on the thin line of his shoulders and the cat just passed them.
waits another few moments, for the cat to get closer. and closer still. the knife in hand raises, and jason throws it straight for the cat's eyesocket. he's still ready to lurch forward, waiting for damian to make his move, because as much as he hates damian playing mouse, he's not stupid enough to get in his way. not yet. )
no subject
An enemy, far larger than him, larger than Jason - and it's going to kill whoever it finds. It's for the best that it finds Damian instead. He waits as the beast sprints forward, crunching the snow beneath it's enormous claws, growling in salivated hunger - and then with a sickening squelch, the monster's eye is pierced, it's balance is knocked off.
And Damian leaps out of the way with dexterity and finesse, a desperate claw catching the tip of his cape. Calmly, methodically, he sorts everything he knows about these monsters away in his mind. Strengths, weaknesses. The skin won't be as easy to breach as a regular animal - so that means he can't just penetrate the skull with Nobody's strike, leaving aside the fact he's never used that move on anything that wasn't a human being. Bones will be strengthened, claws will be strengthened, teeth will be strengthened.
That leaves the eyes, the nose and the mouth. Jason's tactic was apt.
Having said that, Damian's learned something important, being smaller than almost all of his opponents. The bigger something is, the harder it is for it to maintain balance. These creatures were evolved by force - they weren't given the chance to get used to their massively increased size.
So when the beast lets out a roar of indignation and pain, turning it's full head towards Damian as if he was the one that blinded him, Damian predicts the movement enough to snatch his grappling hook out of his belt and launch it at this thing's ankles, knocking it off balance and onto it's side for just a moment as the line goes taught around the monster's leg.]
no subject
but like this, he's fine. the cat focuses on damian, and damian focuses on pulling out his grapple to knock the cat over. the bigger they are, the harder they fall - and given how massive this kitty is, jason too figures that knocking him straight on over's more likely to give them the advantage they need to take it out.
jason's starting at a run before the line goes taut, palming a batarang that goes for the beast's mouth when it roars loudly - but he's using it as a distraction, doesn't need it to penetrate too deeply. not when jason's ramming himself straight into the cat's side to knock it the rest of the way off balance and onto it's side on the ground. getting in close? not a great idea, but he's still armored, and jason can handle a paw swinging for him if it means it's given damian the edge he'd need to take the cat the rest of the way out. he's not planning on catching himself, that'd just be stupid especially when jason's body weight can be turned into an advantage all of its own. it might not be enough to knock over the cat when it's upright, but with the grapple line around its leg, damian pissing it off, the knife in its eye and batarang going for its mouth -- he's made worse moves before. )
no subject
That's fine, he can work with this. Jason's attack makes it yowl in pain, animalistic and pitiful. Almost sounds like Alfred when his dinner's late.
Except a lot bigger, a lot more dangerous, and crucially, despite Jason's slam knocking it off balance and Damian's rope leaving it tangled, it still maintains enough momentum to slam directly into Jason with it's one remaining front paw, attempting to pin him down like they've pinned it down. It can't break the rope's reinforced line, but it can destabilize it, make it useless. The constant yanking has that effect. So he loosens it, leaves it where it is but with room to repurpose.
Damian sprints directly for it before it can take a stab at making a bite and he... jumps on it's back, using the line as a garotte around the beast's neck. It's a big monster, with only two eyes and two limbs. He grabs the batarang lodged in the eye and he rips it out with a flourish as the creature bucks and shakes.]