oh you fool, there are rules, i am coming for you

[singmod]

THE DARKWALKER COMES

The Darkwalker makes its first real strike against the Interlopers, resulting in the death of La'an Noonien-Singh. In the wake of her death, her fellow Interlopers are left to deal with the fallout of this new part of the horror of the Northern Territories.

WHEN: January 25th, onwards.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: death of playable character; supernatural death; mention of dead body; themes of death; supernatural beings; themes of terror; themes of peril.

OH, THE RECKONING BEGINS

On the night of January 25th, all is calm. It is a peaceful, if not cold evening. There are no clouds in the skies, the stars and moon hang high in the blanket of inky black. It would be just another night, until something strange happens: one by one, the stars begin to go out and the moon's light fades from view, as if swallowed whole.

Instead, there is nothing but the gloom. The sky is dark and green and terrible. Interlopers all over the Northern Territories will stop and stare — horrified by such a sight. And then, it washes over you like a cold wave: fear. Interlopers will find themselves over-come, and everything in their bodies and minds tells them to run. To flee. And so you run, heading for cover indoors. Curtains will be drawn, some may hide under beds, within closets or wardrobes. Some desperate attempt to conceal themselves, make themselves small, unseen. Some Interlopers, in that fear, may rush to friends or loved ones to hide with them, others may simply cowered alone — crawling and whimpering away from the night. The fear is irrational, unable to be overcome — even by the bravest or most stoic of Interlopers.

And then: noise. Coming from towards the east, the sounds of unnatural and almost-demonic roars, groans and moans — unable to be likened to or truly described. Drawing nearer and nearer — and you know it, even if you don't understand why: something is coming. It's coming here. You are powerless, unable to do anything. And it is an agony, awaiting its arrival. You cry, you whimper, you cower. Curling up for some shred of comfort, and finding none.

It seems to go on forever, building into a crescendo. Your heart beats so hard you fear it may burst from your chest, as if you might die of fright.

And then, a screaming wail — sharp as it cuts through the building dread. A woman. You know it, don't you? You're sure you've heard it before.

The silence that follows is deafening. The green gloom subsides, the fear slowly melts away within you. You wait, and wait. Finally, when it feels like you can breathe again, you decide to move.

Interlopers who dare to venture outside, who dare to look from behind curtains may see nothing at all. The skies have returned to normal, the moon is out once more. But those close to the center of town will see the small frame of a body curled in the snow. Some may not know her, but plenty will recognise her: Lieutenant La'an Noonien Singh.

It looks almost as if she'd collapsed. But those who decide to investigate will discover a gruesome scene. While there will appear to be no physical wounds, her body will appear contorted — expression frozen in absolute fear. It will be incredibly unnatural and violent to look at. La'an is dead. Around her, the footsteps that brought her to this spot. Strange 'waves' in the snow, too. Hard to define as to what exactly made them. And... faint glimmers of green, intangible. Almost like a residue — which will vanish by the time morning comes.

This is not the first time. La'an Noonien-Singh is the thirteenth Interloper to die since they first began to arrive in this place. But this is certainly the first time something like this has ever happened.

But preparations must be made, an Interloper must be mourned and laid to rest.

And the rest of Milton must come to terms with what has happened, if they can put a name to such a thing.

FAQs

1. Essentially, a 'party post' for reactions to the Darkwalker's Arrival, the immediate aftermath, and any funerary preparations following La'an's death. Have... fun?

2. Information on the Darkwalker's attack can be found here.

3. An OOC Rundown can be found here.

4. For those interested: Harry Goodsir is conducting a post-mortem on La'an, which can be found here.

Comments

Randvi | Assassin’s Creed

[meadqueen]

I.
[It’s a clear night, bright enough that the moon is keeping Randvi awake. She’s been curled up in one of the community hall’s windows with her book for some time when the stars start to go out. When the moon disappears, she is abruptly seized with an irrational terror, one that obliterates conscious thought.

She becomes aware of herself again in the community hall’s basement, hiding underneath the stairs and sobbing into her folded knees like a child. There's blood in her mouth; at some point in the commotion she had bitten her tongue. It reminds her of that terrible dream: This is the ending of all things.

A horrific scream rends the air, and somehow this has the opposite effect to what one would expect: the fear recedes enough to allow Randvi to get to her feet, run her sleeve across her face, and head up the stairs to investigate.

The first thing she notices is that the moon has returned, as if nothing at all had happened. The second thing is the crowd gathered outside. Oh no. The body is of a woman she recognizes but did not know, a member of their group who had arrived earlier than she had. The snow around the body seems to glow, and her face is twisted in empty horror.

Randvi murmurs, mostly to herself:] Do you see? What you could become?

II.
[Randvi had known when she’d spotted the stones outside the god’s house that these were going to be funeral rites with which she was unfamiliar.

She did not know the woman, but she wants to honour her: if Randvi had not hidden like a mouse at the first scent of fear, perhaps she would still be alive.]

Is there anything that I can do to help you with the preparations? I can assist if there are things you need to gather.

II.

[maintiensledroit]

Ah... yes.

[ La'an had come here without a dress uniform or even a normal one; the only uniform he'd seen her wearing was her cold-weather jacket, and she'd informed him, in her usual practical way, that it wasn't her usual attire.

He'd have buried her with badge and watch, but she'd had other plans for both items, plans he'll respect. Now, as he addresses the other woman, his hat in his hands and Diefenbaker at his side, he realizes he has no idea how she would have preferred to be dedicated to eternity, or if she had any beliefs to honor.

All he can do is the best he can. ]

I wonder if you could assist me in finding a red shirt or coat. She told me her uniform was red, but, lacking it...

[ And there is the grave to be dug, a coffin to be built, a head marker to carve. But there are many here to help. ]

[meadqueen]

Ah. [Somehow knowing that, this insignificant personal fact about this woman, drives home the importance of the work. This was a person, and she had been dishonoured out here in death. Anything they can do to help her rest easier is not useless.]

I think I saw a red cloak or tunic in the hall, downstairs… [Where Randvi had fled in terror while someone had been dying mere steps away - small sparks erupt from her fingertips before she reins in her shame.] I'm not sure whether it will fit her, but I can retrieve it.

[maintiensledroit]

Thank you kindly.

[ The only red garment he has is his red serge, and he feels certain La'an would have argued against him burying it with her. Her practicality was only one of the many traits he'd appreciated about her; her practicality, her courage, her strength. Her straightfordness. Her generosity. The kindnesses she'd offer, in her own ways. The humor that sometimes surfaced, crinkling the corners of her eyes as she laughed.

He swallows, hard, and glances down at the hat he holds in his hands before he turns an earnest gaze back on the woman. In his preoccupation, he misses the sparks flying from her fingers, but Diefenbaker cocks his head with a small sound of interest, ears pricking up. ]

I'd appreciate that very much, Miss...?

[meadqueen]

Randvi. I arrived with the most recent group, just prior to the three-day aurora.

[She glances at the wolf after he makes his little questioning noise. He’s a bit smaller but he really does remind her of Mouse.]

You must be Constable Fraser. I wish that we could have met under better circumstances.

[maintiensledroit]

Yes, ma'am. So do I.

[ He glances down at Diefenbaker, who looks back up at him with an innocent expression, and meets her eyes once more. ]

Ah, if you like, I can help you look.

[meadqueen]

Are you required elsewhere?

[She doesn't exactly want to be alone, especially not in that place where she’d been so afraid, but obviously they all have other concerns.]

I don't know much about how it all works here, yet.

[maintiensledroit]

No, not at all. I'd be more than happy to help.

[ He tucks the hat back onto his head, preparing to step inside at her invitation. ]

I'm sorry, about how what all works here?

[meadqueen]

How people here honour their dead. [Others like them have died here, but none since her arrival and even then none like this.] Someone who died in this way… what will happen to her? What can we do for her?

[This is a death that would have stolen the afterlife that this woman had doubtlessly deserved had she been Norse, but Randvi knows by now that not everyone believes this.]

Here, follow me. Do you have one of those small lanterns?

[maintiensledroit]

Ah, not on me, no.

[ But he follows her anyway, as does Diefenbaker, the wolf's claws ticking against the flooring as Fraser considers her earlier question and answers as best he can. ]

I wish I knew what her traditions were, but we never... discussed that.

[ Perhaps they should have, in this place where death is so close, even just through the environment, but. ]

But she'll be buried, with as many honors as I can manage. I believe there's someone here offering to perform funerals... perhaps I'll ask for his assistance.

[meadqueen]

Good. [That there’s someone here who knows the rules of these things is a relief.

She leads him down the stairway at the back of the hall, past piles of boxes that she had knocked over in the terror that blots out even the memory of it.]

I saw a stand here... There.

[A clothing rack of things that have not been in high demand in the new Milton: community theatre costumes, clothing intended to combat summer rains, and a smallish red cardigan with a breast pocket shaped like a strawberry.

She points it out but what she says is:] What do you do about an enemy that you cannot fight?

[maintiensledroit]

[ Fraser doesn't answer her right away; he's reaching for the little cardigan, one corner of his mouth tucking into something wry and sore and warm all at once. Holding the soft sweater in his hands, he runs a thumb over the pocket: strawberries. She'd liked strawberries. Her 'comfort food,' she'd called them.

It's fitting; maybe not for Lieutenant Noonien-Singh, but for La'an, the woman. The person she was beneath the uniform. He's still looking down at the strawberry-shaped pocket when he finally speaks, voice low but steady. ]

You treasure every moment you get. Perhaps you try and make your peace.

[ He shakes his head and looks up at her, finally. ]

But in my experience, 'what people do' is fight back. Even if it's impossible to win. We can still try.

[meadqueen]

[Randvi keeps her gaze on the sweater, thinking of La’an alone and terrified in the snow.]

At home, I would know what to do. If she were one of my people and someone had dishonoured her this way, our raiders would correct it. Here, I don't know.

[maintiensledroit]

The best we can do is to honor her in the ways we have available to us.

[ He lifts the cardigan, a small but heartfelt gesture. ]

This will help. Although I understand that it isn't as satisfying as attacking with raiders.

[meadqueen]

[Where Randvi comes from, that manner of death would have condemned La’an to a cold and lonely existence forever. It's something she would only dream of doing to the most hated of enemies. She doesn't say it aloud because everything is already so terrible and he already knows this, or knowing it will make it worse.]

It isn't. But I am relieved to be able to help honour her in any way I can.

[maintiensledroit]

Your assistance is greatly appreciated, truly. I haven't –

[ A warm weight presses against his leg; he glances down to see Diefenbaker looking back up at him. Fraser smiles, slight, then looks back at the woman. ]

I haven't had to make these kind of arrangements by myself before. When I buried my father, the RCMP took care of most of the details.

[ Diefenbaker leaves him as he speaks, going to sniff around Randvi's feet with interest. ]

You mentioned, ah... raiders?

[meadqueen]

No one should have to do this alone.

[The wolf approaches and she says, as if talking to a person:] Oh, hello again. I'm afraid this time I have nothing for you.

[Then, to his comment about raiders:] Ah, yes. At home I'm our clan’s chief strategist, so it would be my decision if we were to retaliate that way. [Or Sigurd’s decision, if he were home, but his latest absence has been more than a year already so she isn't counting on that.]

i.

[questioningmermaids]

[ Fear's something March knows, but this? This is something else entirely. This is like the fire a few weeks back, that white-hot cold-blooded melange of fuck that lingers in his chest with a weight that makes it difficult to get up, difficult to do much of anything but hide in his basement like a coward. Wouldn't be the first time. Probably won't be the last.

He gets up off of the cold cement and pushes his way out of the house when he feels it lift, jacket on but unzipped from his hurry, half stumbling as he pulls himself out of the daze the scream had given him. Maybe it's the moon on the red hair, maybe it's willfull ignorance: March jogs out, gaze focused on Randvi and not the scene at first--is that blood around her mouth?--as he speaks. ]

What are you talk--Oh, shit.

[ Hard to ignore the dead body for long. March feels like he's going to throw up, stomach churning. In an attempt to avoid that he leans down, hands on his knees. ]

Jesus Christ.

[meadqueen]

[At any other time, this brightly coloured man would definitely cause some confusion, but right now Randvi just feels numb.]

I was there, at the window, before it happened. The moon disappeared. Did you see it?

[questioningmermaids]

Fuck the moon, I don't know what I saw, is that---

[ He doesn't look up. If he looks up he'll really puke. The woman's calmness seems insane to March, but maybe she's shocked or some shit. Who knows. ]

--is that La'an?

[meadqueen]

[Randvi hadn't known La’an personally, but the others around her had said her name.]

Yes. The wolf god was here, the one from the dream. It must have overwhelmed her.

[The fear could have killed Randvi and there had been a wall between her and the creature. How must it have felt to La’an right next to it?]

I'm sorry.

[questioningmermaids]

Me, too. Fuck.

[ He straightens, at least. Re-aligns his spine so he's back to his usual lanky self, if a little paler. He glances over at the woman again--strong looking in every sense, red hair--and exhales through his nose. ]

Can't say I knew her well. [ 'knew', not 'know.' March's nose wrinkles. ] She got on my ass for smoking. You... [ Jesus, this is weird, but March finally forces himself to look at La'an, silently grateful for someone at his side even if she's a stranger. ]

You felt that fear, too, though. [ So it wasn't just him. Thank God. ]

[meadqueen]

I did. [It’s hard not to look at La’an now, that ordinarily stoic face twisted in a terror so dire that mere echoes of it had nearly shaken Randvi apart. The eerie green light that almost seems stuck to the snow around her.]

I've never felt fear like that before.

[questioningmermaids]

[ He has. Once. A long time ago, the reason why he wears a ring on his neck--but even then, this is still different. March isn't paying attention too much to what he's doing, eyes sweeping over the glow, shifting a tiny bit closer to her unconsciously. ]

This place is gonna kill us.

[ It's not fear. It's a matter-of-fact. He can't quite tear himself away, but he does at least have the brain to ask even if he thinks he already knows the answer. ]

You okay?

[meadqueen]

I'm all right. [Belied slightly by the blood he’d seen in her teeth and the circle of melted snow around her where she hasn't quite been able to suppress her new power, but she's alive and that might be all they can hope for right now.]

This place may want us dead, but if it could wipe us all out so easily it would have done that tonight. I have to believe we can survive.