but a strange light in the sky was shining right into my eyes

[singmod]

JANUARY 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: NASCENCE: Following the strange dream at new year, a three-day Aurora takes place. During which, Interlopers discover a possible ally in the mysterious woman heard in the static and heard in the dream — potentially earning new abilities.

PROMPT TWO — ADUST: The Interlopers find out what happened to the owners of long-destroyed Milton House in the form of hauntings.

PROMPT THREE — THE VISITOR: Interlopers find themselves with an unwelcome visitor — a shadow doppelganger here to make everything absolutely worse.

THE AURORA: NASCENCE

WHEN: January 13th - 15th.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially disturbing dreams; dreams of being burned alive; some minor supernatural horror; some minor ‘ghost’ horror/hauntings; death of npcs in various ways including suicide, murder or exposure to elements.


In the middle of the month, it happens. A herald. The noise starts: faint at first, but then growing louder. An ethereal, high-pitched chorus of sounds difficult to place. There’s a kind of electrical buzzing with it all, a low, endless hum punctuated with cracks and pops. The sky is alive with sound, and with it comes the swirling streaking of colour against the inky black of night: The Aurora has come.

Much of what happened previously happens again: Streetlights, illuminating the town’s roads; lights in stores and homes will come alive, buzzing and flickering at times. Previously abandoned cars will turn on, their headlights blaring. Electronics that had previously seemed broken flick on — and whilst there are no broadcasts available on televisions, and the radio waves only drone on in static, both only occasionally blaring standard emergency broadcasts. Any computers and phones will turn on, but will have no internet or reception. Instead, Interlopers may find texts and emails — many of them unsent. The everyday lives of their users stored within, now readable.

There are still some instances of the ‘ghosts’ from the previous Auroras, but they are now only faint outlines, and far fewer in number. However, whilst the Aurora would usually only last until the next morning on sporadic nights over the month — this time it will last for a full three days. The world is plunged into darkness, a seemingly endless night with only the Aurora to light the skies.

On the second night of lights and noise, a voice calls out to you: static-like, and distant — as if someone speaks over a radio. A woman’s voice. It is the same one you’ve been hearing for a few weeks now, but finally it is far stronger than the scant whispers of name and the word ‘help’. She is far clearer now.

“You.” she says. She may whisper your name, too. “I see you.” You’re unable to speak back, the communication is only one way. She sounds upset, but there’s something more… a kind of wonder, perhaps.

”It’s not just a regular aurora borealis, but then you probably worked that out already, haven’t you? It’s so much more than that. Everything is… changing.”

”I don’t know how you can go back. But— but I can help. Maybe. Maybe I can make this place easier, somehow. I need help, but I’m stuck—” There’s frustration in her voice for a moment. ”It took from you. Took you away. It doesn’t always have to take. We can take, too. Sleep. I will help you take back. You will survive this. You will not go into the Dark. This is not the end.”

You have no idea what that means, for the most part. But you might just end up taking the chance and doing as the woman asked, even if it’s difficult with the noise and light with the Aurora. Sleep, and a dream may come to you.

FREE RUNNER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are a magnificent stag, galloping through the snowy woods with ease. You seem to go on and on, never tiring, never slowing. You feel like the wind, or perhaps the very wind itself carries you. Not once do you stumble or fall, even when the snow is thick and deep, or the ground is shaky and uneven beneath you. You feel free.

When you awaken, you feel the most refreshed you’ve ever felt since you first came here. For the final day of the Aurora, you are bursting with energy and even when the lights in the sky fade — that revitalised feeling within you remains. There’s something within you that understands: you are the Free Runner. The ground will yield beneath you, your energy will not desert you, the wind will carry you.

LIGHT BRINGER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of sitting by a lonely campfire in the mouth of a cave at night, warming your hands. As you sit, a strange feeling comes over you, a desire to reach out to the flames. And so you do, reaching with both hands into the fire — gripping at the white-hot embers. It burns you, and for a moment there is blinding hot pain as the fire suddenly explodes around you, consuming you whole. But the pain soon stops. The fire doesn’t burn you. No, you have become the blaze — your body warmed. You burn bright enough that the darkness around you turns into day.

When you awaken the next morning, you feel warmed and comfortable. As if even the coldest of winters couldn’t reach your bones. The warmth remains even when the Aurora ends, and you are left with the innate understanding:you are the Light Bringer. The power of flame is at your very fingertips. You master the light, life, warmth.

AURORA CALL: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are standing in the very sky itself, at the Aurora’s height. Colour and sound twirls around you, within you — and you feel it curl into your body. Your head fills with noise, a chorus of voices calling out, snippets of conversation echoing within you. A woman’s voice calls to you, it is the same voice that spoke to you before you slept: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

And you do, you do understand it.

When you awaken, you feel connected to the world around you. To the very people who live amongst you. You feel less lonely, a kind of kinship with others. You have heard the Aurora’s Call and you have answered it, unlocked a connection with your fellow Interlopers. You will be heard.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

ADUST

WHEN: From mid-month to month end.
WHERE: Milton House.
CONTENT WARNINGS: fire; house fire; death of a child/children; hauntings; ghosts; mental manipulation; illusions of burning/being burned; potential injuries via falling/unstable building collapsing.

There is a reason why it is advised to avoid Milton House other than the simple fact that it’s a miracle the house is still standing. Once one of the largest buildings in the town of Milton, it is now a former shell of what was once a fine and grand house. It has lain in ruin for many years, dilapidated and host to a great deal of fire damage.

While he is in town, Methuselah will not speak of the place, but he often looks sad when it has been brought up in conversation. “A great tragedy.” he will say before falling into a pensive silence. “A blackened mark on the town’s memory.” He does not wish to say much more of what happened: sometimes there are things that are just too painful. He will continue to advise the ruin is left alone, out of respect, and the fact that the place is a danger.

Of course, advice will not stop anyone from attempting to get into the ruins and exploring the house, even if it is in fact highly dangerous.

The sounds of voices and whispers may be enough to pique anyone’s interest. You're sure you heard something, maybe you should go to check it out?

It is true in the fact that the house itself is incredibly dangerous structurally: floors and stairs may give way and you’ll find your foot (and half of you) falling right through the floorboards. Damp and rot that have long since set in, and it will be dangerous to breathe in. But you’ll find that the house itself is pretty ordinary: this was once a family home. Just about the entirety of the house and its contents aren't salvageable, but you’ll be able to find out a little about who once lived here.

There are faded, half-destroyed photos that show a family of five: a father, mother, and three young children all under the age of ten. The father with warm, beaming smiles, the mother has kind eyes, the two oldest boys with toothy grins much like their father, the younger girl looks shy, wanting to hide against her mother. They look happy. Just a typical family. In a world where so many strange things are happening, it feels so strange to look upon these family photos and around this home to realise that they simply lost their home in a house fire.

But as you hold a family picture, or some half-destroyed trinket: a toy, a shoe, a book, a vase, you’ll find the item will suddenly catch alight, bursting into flames in your very hands. The flames do not burn you, and as you discard the item, it will fall to the floor as if nothing had happened.

Then, it comes to you. Here and there. Different sensations that stop and start suddenly: the house groans and creaks around you; the smell of smoke enters your nose; the sound of fire cracking and popping with a roar fills your ears; the sensation of heat against your skin; the clawing and suffocating feeling in your lungs that makes you cough and choke; the sounds of terrified shrieks of children echoing above you. Feelings flood you: fear, panic. When you next turn around, the entire house is aflame around you, and you can’t tell if this is real or if you’re reliving some terrifying memory.

You need to leave, get out of here. For some, it will be what comes naturally. You’ll have to fight through the flames and escape the house before it burns down completely around you. You’ll have to fight your way out, find an exit not already consumed by flames — through a window, perhaps. Crashing out of the house and into the snow, you’ll look back and see Milton House just as you entered it: nothing more than a half-burned ruin.

But for others, there will be another pull. You are drawn upstairs, to the screams of children. You need to get to them, to help them, save them. You will battle through the flames, heading towards the ruins of what was a child’s bedroom, or towards the bathroom. Inside either, you will find a figure cowering, engulfed wholly in flames: one in the bathtub or one in the closet. You recognise them as the two sons from the family pictures.

Mom. They will call you. Or Dad. They weep, terrified of the flames. I’m scared, I’m scared. I want the fire to go away. Help me. Stay here.

The tragedy of Milton House is before you. More than just a fire. What is more tragic than the death of a child? What silences voices? Breaks spirits? Leaves one helpless to act in the wake of such a passing?

There is something to be done here. You are not so powerless. Calm the child. Offer gentle assurances. They will get out. They are safe. You are there for them. You will stay. Embracing them will set you alight. Too hot. Too bright. It will hurt, but you won’t burn. But don’t let go; holding them will eventually calm them down enough for the flames to grow dim, to slowly ease their spirits to rest.

Soon enough, the flames will go out and the child will disappear, leaving you alone in a decaying, dilapidated room.

In the churchyard of Milton, there is a family grave by the name of Barker. Three lie within it: Thomas it reads, and his beloved sons, Patrick and Christopher.

THE VISITOR

WHEN: The month of January.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: erything absolutely worse.
THE VISITOR — CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural beings; dream-related horror/disturbing dreams; doppelgangers; themes of depression; themes of self-harm; themes of isolation; potential themes of suicide.


It seems the dream of the New Year and the Aurora dreams are not the only odd sleep-related instances occurring this month. You first notice that something is off when a strange dream pulls you from sleep. The dream may feel like any particular dream you have, whether it be a usual nightmare or strange concoction your brain has conjured up for you this night. Maybe it’s a dream you’ve had before, maybe it’s a new dream entirely. But no matter the dream, there is one thing that is odd about it. In tiny moments within the dream, you notice that there is something different, something that feels out of place. Something is there that shouldn’t be.

A figure, tall and silent, entirely made of shadow stands lurking in the background. It looks human, but there is not much more that you can really describe further. It is a sad, unsettling presence.

When you awaken, eyes bleary from sleep, and you look about the room, to the bottom of your bed, for a half-moment you see that figure standing there silently. That unsettling sadness permeates the room, and after a few seconds of blinking and sitting up — the figure disappears. Perhaps it was just some trick of the mind, some half-awake illusion.

But the next time you sleep, it appears again. The same figure, the same emotions surrounding it. And when you awaken, it stands at the bottom of your bed once more. Only this time, it lingers, and you find yourself staring down the figure before it disappears once more.

Over the next several days, the presence continues to linger more and more. It stands silently in the corner of the room of your home; it hovers by the window, staring out into the snow; it stands in the middle of the road as you go about your business. More and more, it is there. Always standing, always watching — silent and sad.

No one else seems to notice it, only you. And over time, the shape of it seems to change — the vague, undefined shape of it slowly shifts into something you recognise. The same hair, the same height, the same way it holds itself: it is exactly like you. A perfect doppelganger, a second shadow. And with it, it exudes an oppressive sadness, a particular kind of loneliness. It is suffocating, bleeding into you.

It makes you withdraw from the world around you, from the people around you. Perhaps you stop spending time with others, retreating into solitude. You hide from others, keep to yourself. You find yourself not sleeping at all or perhaps sleeping too much. Perhaps what little you already eat becomes nothing. The shadowy doppelganger draws ever closer to you, close enough to touch you - ever hovering at your shoulder. Its presence bores down on you, making you feel small and more and more alone even with its ‘company’. No one else can seem to see it but you, mentioning it to others will earn odd looks, or even concern. It seems you and your double are alone together.

Hopefully, those around you will notice the change in you. How you stopped reaching out, how you’ve stopped taking care of yourself. Hopefully they will see something isn’t right and reach out. You are doomed to the doppelganger's company otherwise.

However, those around you can push the shadowy double away, and can break its influence and hold over you. Genuine care and concern for you will have it shrinking back. Perhaps it is a kind word, perhaps it is the gentle but insisting coaxing to eat. Perhaps it is an attentive ear to listen to your thoughts, to how the presence has made you feel. Maybe it is even the simplest of touches, an embrace or the holding of a hand, the grip of a shoulder. Continued connection with you will slowly have the visitor’s power diminish.

And hopefully it is done before it is too late, or it may be all too easy to fade into the Long Dark.

FAQs

THE AURORA: NASCENCE

1. Aurora Feats are now unlocked! Please see the following page for more information. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

2. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Event. The only time this is available is this month. After January, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

3. This Aurora will last a full three days. It will be a period of only night.

4. For more information on the ghostly loops seen during the Aurora, see this previous event, under 'The Aurora: Aftershocks' prompt.

5. For new players who would like a little extra context regarding the woman can look at December's Tales From The Northern Territories, under the 'New Happenings in December' section.

ADUST

1. Characters will not be physically burned in the fire, but only feel as if they have been. The effects of this illusion will last a short time after they're out the house before they will fade.

2. The only real injuries characters can sustain will be from fall damage, or if the floor gives way and their feet go through, etc. whilst in the house.

3. The children cannot leave the house. They will be too scared to leave. In addition, they are tethered to the house, given that this is where they died. Simply being calmed/comforted is the best way to help them and they will disappear after that.

THE VISITOR

1. An Interloper's Visitor can't be seen by anyone but the Interloper themselves.

2. The Visitor can be spoken to, but it will not speak back. It cannot be interacted with and is intangible.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[moralabsolutism]

Rorschach staggered inside, only kept up thanks to the hold that Goodsir had on him. Despite the dire circumstances he found himself in, there was a small note of black humor in his voice. "Told you I'd be back, Doctor."

Rorschach knew himself well enough to know he just couldn't stay out of trouble for long, not when there were people to protect and now literal monsters to defend them from. Now here he was, half-dead and not at all sorry about what had caused him to get into such a position.

[bestsir]

Goodsir guided Rorschach to a chair and hurried to get some water for him to drink—a start, at least. "What happened?"

[moralabsolutism]

Rorschach indeed just collapsed into that chair without so much as a grunt of pain. He was too tired for such a thing. He couldn't see a damn thing any longer, so he did his best to turn his head in the direction he thought he heard the doctor's voice coming from.

"Got into a fight with a big snake out in the words. Breathed some sort of--of toxic fumes on me. Lungs and eyes got it the worst, both feel like they're burning. Eyesight's gone too. Managed to get away and got knocked down by something on my way back to town with sharp teeth. It bit me on the neck and caused me to bleed a lot. Kicked at it hard enough to drive it away and found someone to lead me here."

The first part was the truth, the second half not so much. But he'd told Louis he wouldn't mention what had happened and intended to keep that oath. The circumstances didn't change much. He'd still been bitten on the neck and lost quite a bit of blood. That was the important part.

[bestsir]

In a way, it was lucky for Rorschach (and by extension, Louis) that the news of the snake immediately assumed utmost importance in Goodsir's mind, thanks to what he and Hickey had seen. The fact that they'd been right about their discovery—well, sometimes Goodsir really hated being right.

And having seen what he had of what the fumes did to rabbits—time, he thought, is of the essence if the man's not to be blinded permanently. He immediately reached for the edge of Rorschach's mask to get a look.

[moralabsolutism]

Rorschach didn't realize what Goodsir was planning on doing until he felt the fingers on the edge of his mask about to lift it up. Quick as a flash, his hand was wrapped around the doctor's wrist in an iron grip. It would have taken very little for him to snap the bones he could feel grinding beneath his touch with how strong he was. But he didn't, still with enough presence of mind to realize Goodsir was trying to help him instead of harm.

"Don't," he growled out in a warning. Despite how dire his circumstances were, he still refused to let anyone view him unmasked. To say he had issues surrounding that was an understatement. He'd let no one view his human face since he'd come to Milton and refused to change even in the face of his own peril.

[bestsir]

Goodsir freezes and lets go, but he can't help making a small annoyed noise.

"You've suffered an injury to your eyes, man. I cannot treat you without looking at them."

[moralabsolutism]

"No..." He stubbornly insisted, shaking his head a little. Still, his resistance was weakening. He was too tired to keep this up for long. After being through quite a lot in the past several hours, his body really couldn't keep up with the ironclad nature of his mind any longer, despite his desire for his face not to be removed. Much more of this and he'd just pass out, leaving it easy for Goodsir to do his job.

[bestsir]

"Please," Goodsir insists, not wanting to force him, but also not wanting to let a potentially severe injury go untreated. "I can see that you'd rather not, but ... would you be blinded forever, having not been treated?"

[moralabsolutism]

Rorschach was torn and it showed in his body language. He was stiff, hands clutching the chair he was in, and if he'd had any strength left whatsoever in his body he would have staggered back out into the cold to take his chances on his own.

But he wasn't that stupid despite the heaping dose of stubborn pride coursing through him at the moment. Rorschach had come to the doctor because he knew this wasn't something he was going to be able to heal from all on his own. He could end up permanently blinded unless the doctor took a look at his eyes and then Rorschach wasn't going to be able to help anyone any longer.

Finally, he gave a silent nod. He couldn't remove it himself, not with how much that went against everything that was within him. But he'd let Goodsir do it so he could be treated.

[bestsir]

"Thank you," Goodsir said. "I'll be as quick as I can."

He peeled back the mask carefully. He half-expected some kind of disfigurement or ... something, and was slightly surprised at how ordinary he looked. Well. Apart from the injuries at hand, anyway.

"I'll need to flush your eyes with water," he said. "Don't move—I'll be back in a moment."

He fetched a basin, filled it with water, and got a washcloth and a thing like a very large pipette that could be used to focus a stream of water on the man's eyes. He started by using the washcloth to clean his face, and then filled the instrument.

"I'm using the water now," he said. "It may hurt."

[moralabsolutism]

Well, there it was. The doctor had removed his face and so was the first one to see what Rorschach looked like underneath. A little scruffy but ultimately just a man under the mystique. Those blue eyes were intense even if they were unable to fix their gaze on anything in front of him. There was no emotional reaction that could be seen on his human face, the only thing he did being turning his head when he thought he could hear Goodsir moving around.

He hissed a little as the water hit his eyes but he didn't flinch away. It did nothing for helping to restore his vision but he figured by now that such a measure was more likely to prevent further damage to his eyes than to help bring back anything which had already been lost.

[bestsir]

Once he felt he'd washed as much as he could, he wiped Rorschach's face carefully and stepped back.

"You'll want to clean your—your covering," he said. Mask, for some reason, didn't seem like the right word. "I'm not sure what else there is to be done, but I'd suggest a compress for your eyes as often as you can tolerate. With luck, your eyes will heal and your vision will return in time."

The alternative was obvious, but unpleasant, and Goodsir didn't really feel a need to state it.

[moralabsolutism]

Despite his circumstances, there was something a little nice about letting someone take care of him for once. Rorschach had never really had anyone like that in his life and even in a clinical setting with a doctor he could still appreciate it. Of course, he wasn't going to be able to do that for much longer because he felt right about now like he might pass out at any second.

He listened, hearing both what Goodsir was saying and what he wasn't saying. There was a fear within him that the snake might have done permanent damage. After all, it wasn't as if he had any yardstick by which to measure how potent a monster's poisonous vapor breath was. "Should return when?" That was all he asked.

[bestsir]

"You can rest here a while. In fact, I insist on it," Goodsir said, rather sharply. "And then come back in a few days, if your sight still troubles you. For now—you should have some water at least, and something to eat. I can't let you leave without that."

[moralabsolutism]

The idea of staying was one he really wanted to protest against. But Rorschach was dead tired after fighting, getting his blood sucked, and then still having to stagger his way back to town with Louis's help. Even if he wanted to, getting back up and wandering around blindly until he made it back to one of his many hideouts was was something Rorschach wasn't sure he was capable of right now.

Finally, he nodded. "Thanks, doc," he said quietly. He wasn't used to relying on others but he'd already pegged Goodsir as being a good person from when they'd first met. He could trust him. Up to a point at least.

[bestsir]

Goodsir sighed with relief, and then set about getting Rorschach settled in one of the comfortable chairs by the woodstove. A settee for his feet up, a blanket to keep warm.

"Stay as long as you need. Sleep. All right?"

[moralabsolutism]

Rorschach nodded as he settled into sleep. "Won't tell anyone about this, will you?" He knew doctors had confidentiality when it came to their patients but he wasn't sure that extended all the way to just seeing their faces.

[bestsir]

"You have my word," Goodsir said. "I shall say nothing. Rest now."

He waited until Rorschach was dozing, and then brought a blanket to cover him.

[moralabsolutism]

Once he had the blanket on him, the warmth in the room began to seep into his bones, and he was able to relax as much as Rorschach was ever capable of feeling. Worn out by the days events, he quickly fell asleep, barely stirring the entire time. He'd sleep the entire day and most of the night as well before he'd wake again.