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

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

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Right? Who buffs their nails in a life-or-death situation?” Not that Chloe’s own priorities would line up that much with a guy wearing a weird mask for no reason, but they can agree on this. “If I thought he was capable I'd assume he was teasing me.”

Enough gossip. “Yeah, I was trying to learn more about the area specifically, so I thought newspapers might be a good place to start. I've never even been to North America before so my Canada knowledge is pretty lacking.”

"He is....strange." And that was something coming from someone who would wear the label of town weirdo with pride. But at least he was still (somewhat) human whereas Louis was now an entirely different species than most of the people there in Milton.

Then he snapped back to the task at hand. "Put them somewhere..." It would take him a few minutes. He'd gotten them together but hadn't organized them yet, not sure that they would be of any use to anyone. Of course, he hadn't thought of the logical possibility of people wanting to know more about the general area that they were in. Assuming, of course, that it wasn't Hell as Rorschach was still theorizing sometimes.

He went to one side and dragged out a few boxes, shoving each one off to the side in turn as he looked. Finally, he hit upon the plastic tub he'd put them all in, figuring it would preserve them better than cardboard. He dragged it out and over to Chloe. The thing weighed quite a bit. "Not organized yet. But there."

“Ah, nice.” This library situation is clearly still new for everyone. “Can I check out the whole box, or do you want me to go through ‘em here?”

A project might at least give her something to think about other than her situation.

He pointed at the floor of the building and firmly said: "Here."

He didn't know Chloe yet and had no idea how carefully she'd take care of the newspapers. After all, should something happen to them under her care, the whole supply could be ruined and those were the only ones they had! So in the library both the collection and patron would remain where he could keep an eye on both.

Chloe nods. A little disappointing but not surprising.

“You want ‘em sorted by date?”

That's not too hard, at least.

He nodded. "Be easiest that way."

As for himself, Rorschach went back over to where he'd been. It was close enough that he could keep an eye on Chloe without absolutely making himself out to be creepily hovering the way he might appear otherwise.

Chloe’s not really great with authority, so this is appreciated. She's excited to be doing something concrete about what’s happened to her, but makes herself move slowly so she doesn't wreck anything.

“You find these yourself?”

Rorschach nodded, explaining in his usual clipped, halting way of speaking. "Went house by house. Gathered up everything of interest. Brought it here. Organized it."

It had been a good ongoing project for him during the early months of being in Milton, giving him something to do besides just patrolling during the nights. Now having a job as the town librarian gave him full-rein over the building and the contents within.

Chloe smiles. “Clever.” Good thinking to get it all in one place and have someone watch over it, as much as it thwarts her doing things her way.

“Oh, huh. The town had its own newsletter.”

Rorschach didn't precisely smile at the compliment but he did take pleasure in it nonetheless. And people always thought he was crazy. Perhaps so but crazy like a fox. He knew knowledge was power and the only way to do that was to gather up as much of it as one could.

"It did?" He hadn't had much time to go through most of the material he'd gathered up aside from a cursory organization. He'd have to remedy that now that he had the basics of the system down on how he organized things.

“Yeah. Written by volunteers, I'd wager.” It's kind of cute, seems like the kind of shit Nate and Elena might do. “Looks like they had the regular small-town problems before all this: cannery job cuts on the front page.”

"Hmmm." He peered over, looking more closely at the newsletter. There was nothing within them to note that Milton had ever been anything more than just the ordinary small town it had always been on the surface.

"How did it go from that to this?" He made a circular gesture that encompassed the town and all the weird shit that had been going on within it since he'd arrived.

“I wonder if the whole world’s like this now, or just Milton.” Sometimes, Chloe has learned from experience, a city just sucks. If this is something like what they'd found in Tibet, or Nate’s little Ubar adventure, there could be an obliviously normal town just days away. Not that it would help them now.

“I know there's a bunch of post-apocalypse shit out there about electrical storms knocking out the power grid, but I don't think they're supposed to make it work again afterward.”

"Might not be Earth. Might be Hell," Rorschach pointed out. He'd seen enough here to make him think this place wasn't anywhere close to being a planet in the solar system. Ghosts and sirens and mystical animals and God (or the Devil) only knew what was going to happen next.

Plus there was the fact that no one's hands here were clean. He was certain even someone like Kate had something hiding in her background that wasn't as pure as the snow on the ground.

Chloe sniffs, a little rudely. “I don't believe in hell, and this isn't how reincarnation works.”

She's not as devout as she could be now, but she’d spent her early years with her Hindu scholar father in India. Her subsequent time at an Anglican boarding school in Australia hadn't exactly endeared her to that religion.

“Besides, I think hell would have a higher population.”

Rorschach tilted his head a little at her complete dismissal of his theory right off the bat. She sounded quite confident in that assessment and he wondered if she knew something that he didn't.

So he went on with just why he thought his theory still held water. "In Dante's Inferno, various levels and circles within those levels. Lowest one was freezing cold. Could just be in an outer circle."

Chloe dropped out of university after one semester and became a getaway driver for art thieves, so her classics are a little limited. Good thing Charlie isn't here or they'd be doing this all day.

“Aren't Dante’s circles like little theme parks? You really think we’ve all got a sin in common?”

"Think no one is innocent. Last circle is reserved for betrayers and treacherous people." Perhaps they all had something in their past that had drawn them here, even if it wasn't yet obvious.

Okay, she has to admit that if Dante’s specific hell was real, that's probably the part she’d end up in, but still.

“No one? Not even the kids?”

Rorschach gave her a long look. "Have you met some of them?" Kate he could believe as not belonging in Hell. Someone like Damian? Not so much.

Listen, Chloe met Damian and you can immediately subdue him by teasing him about his cape. Also his weird protectiveness over her as a 'civilian' didn't exactly paint 'traitor' on him.

“The girls I met at the party didn't really seem evil to me.” Sweet little Kate, and cheerful Ruby, even (probably to her dismay) Uzi.

Rorschach snorted in contempt. "All women are duplicitous." Did he care that he had just insulted Chloe with such a blanket statement? Not at all. He said what he said and had meant it. There were only two types of women in Rorschach's mind: pure ones and whores, with most falling into the latter category.

Chloe laughs, a sharp exhale of disbelief. “Wow, okay. You must be fun at parties.”

Not that he's wrong about her really, but out of line to say about a gaggle of teenage girls!

This is why Rorschach had no friends and pissed off people on a daily basis. But he wouldn't apologize or take back what he'd said. His black-and-white mindset wouldn't allow him to.

"Prove me wrong," he said, the newspapers now forgotten for the moment.

“What - how? You haven't met every woman in the world.” The unfailingly ~~irritating~~ honest women Chloe has to deal with at home mean nothing to him. And she doesn't know most of the ones here that well yet, but Selene and Woodstock aren't exactly shining examples of a straightforward person.

“Kate Marsh? Come on. Someone offered that kid a drink and she said 'gosh.'”

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

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cw: misogynistic thinking

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cw: child death mentioned

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