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

[maintiensledroit]

"I'd be happy to share all I know," he promises, and he means it. He's well aware that, of the people he's so far met, he may be the best suited to survival in this place, even with its strange, changed rules, its violent animals and odd Aurora. He's never seen the Northern Lights have such an effect on electronics – or anything else – before.

So however he can offer his help, his advice, his abilities, he plans to do so. He wonders if Louis would be interested in learning how to craft a smoker for meat, or bolas for hunting. " – Ah."

For the first time, he looks a little sheepish. "Well, in the course of investigating my father's murder, I uncovered some uncomfortable truths about some rather high-ranking members of the RCMP and several government representatives involved in building a dam that was..."

He can almost hear Ray yelling at him to wrap it up, Fraser. "...That's not important. I'm afraid I embarrassed some powerful people in Canada, and was redistributed to Chicago until things die down."

[flambeaux]

Louis is surprised at Fraser's offer, and it shows in the lifting of his brows and faint wondering surprise in his eyes. Not bad, for a cop. His eyebrows rise higher as Fraser explains his origins. This was not the answer he expected. Usually people come to cities to make it big or enjoy city living.

"I got to respect a man who pissed off the Man enough to get kicked out of his own country. Sorry about the Americans though."

He's proud of his own culture, sure, but the US government? They were only good for screwing Black folks over and driving honest businesses into the shadows with Prohibition. And Tom Anderson tried to get him and Lestat to sponsor his politics... Hilarious. If Louis didn't have money, the man wouldn't look twice at him except to ask him to shine his shoes.

"You like the food at least? Music?"

It's not like Louis is fishing for fellow appreciators of jazz or anything, tired of kids in Milton laughing at him for listening to "grandpa music." Jazz is very hip!

[maintiensledroit]

"Oh, well," Fraser demurs. "They're not all bad. In fact, I've found most Americans to be kind and welcoming people."

(Whether they have been or not.) “There is some excellent food,” he agrees. “I’ve never had the opportunity to try so many cuisines before. And my friend – well, my partner, really – Ray, his mother is an excellent Italian-American cook. That isn’t something we have much of up in the tundra, I can tell you.”

Not much in the way of ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs or veal parmigiana this far north, generally speaking. “As for music, I have occasionally managed to make it to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and even some opera, now and then. Although usually on my own.”

Even Diefenbaker prefers not to accompany him, no matter how many times Fraser tells him he really should give opera another chance. As hard as they’d tried, no one should judge the entire form by the Yukon Light Opera, especially after the blizzard they’d come through.

[flambeaux]

“Life in the big city. You can eat your way through it for a week and still not sample everythin’.” Says the vampire. “Italian’s fantastic. We get people from everywhere in New Orleans, bein’ a major port and all. There’s an opera house there too, and my… partner would drag me to it again and again.”

He looks down. He smiles at nothing in particular on the ground. It’s the smile of a man not really smiling.

“It even got tirin’, mostly because I had to pretend to be somethin’ I wasn’t. Never thought I’d miss music so much now.”

maybe for fade?

[maintiensledroit]

"Oh, yes. It can be extremely draining to pretend to be something you aren't," Fraser agrees, wholehearted in his support. "For example, I once spent several days undercover as a used automobile salesman..."

He pauses, thinks about the way the other man had smiled down at the ground, the way he holds his shoulders, how his eyes do or do not reflect that same smile, and visibly hauls himself back. "...That's not important. But I can certainly agree on missing music. Fortunately, we seem to have some quite talented musicians among us. It's not jazz or opera, but it's enjoyable to hear nevertheless."

Diefenbaker shifts at his side, and Fraser looks down to meet the wolf's eyes, then back up at the other man. "Thank you for the company... it's helped. And it's very much appreciated."

[flambeaux]

Louis is roused from his bittersweet reverie and gives Fraser a guileless, curious look, rare for him. This guy did undercover work, but he seems so guileless himself...?

"Oh, I hear 'em in town on Aurora nights. Loud, modern, baroque even. Sounds the kind of which I never heard before, but really at the heart of it, it's just wilder rhythm 'n' blues." A smirk appears on his face like the ghost of a smile.

"I'll see you around, Mr. Fraser. You take care of yourself now."