singillatim | NPC Interaction: Young Bill

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NPC Interaction: Young Bill

MARCH 2024 — NPC INTERACTION: YOUNG BILL

A diversion off the tracks into Lakeside brings a group of the Interlopers to the home of one of the natives of the Northern Territories.

WHEN: Mid March, following access into Lakeside.
WHERE: Young Bill's Cabin, Lakeside.
CONTENT WARNINGS: threats of violence;

YOUNG BILL

After Interlopers have crossed the perilous railway bridge over the ravine and slowly make their way into Lakeside, they will notice quickly the heavy woods that quickly surrounds them on the sides of the track. The natural course is to follow the tracks to see where they may lead. However, those paying attention may find themselves noting the scent of wood-smoke clinging in the air. If they look roughly towards the north, they may be able to spot the single plume of smoke drifting high into the air over the tree line.

Venturing into the woods is, of course, a dangerous option. But it’s possible this may be either another Interloper lost within the woods, or perhaps someone native to the Northern Territories. Curiosity gets the better of us all, at times.

Anyone who chooses to go after the smoke plume will find that soon enough, there is a trail within the woods. It's a rough trail, one that has only ever been travelled on by foot, but it slowly makes its way through the woods and Interlopers will find themselves coming into a small clearing.

There are two buildings: the first, closest to Interlopers is a small shed-like building, like one might expect on a farmstead. It's been locked up tight. Almost ridiculously so. Then up ahead, on a small, rocky hill: a decently-sized one-story cabin — a warm, cosy light radiating from the windows and the lazy plume of smoke drifting from the chimney. But before the Interlopers can draw too close, there’s the urgent and snarling barks of a dog from within — they have been noticed.

Quickly enough, a man steps out of the cabin and onto the porch, a rifle in his arms: aimed and ready to shoot at the Interlopers. He is a frightening sight: there is a clear rage in his eyes but his expression is calm and collected. He is tall, even from a distance, somewhere in his early thirties with a thick beard and skin ruddied by the cold. He will not hesitate to shoot.

“I thought I told you eco-fucks to keep the hell away—!” he roars over at the Interlopers. There is the soft click of the rifle as he readies to fire. “Get the fuck off of my property—!”

There is a long pause in this bitter stand-off. Eco-fucks... ? What does he mean by that? Interlopers may have drawn their own weapons on the man at the sight of being aimed at. Some may have raised their hands to show they mean no harm. Others may have already started backing off entirely. But then the man falters, uncertainty creeping into his expression.

“Wait a minute,” he doesn’t lower his weapon. “You’re… not those nutjobs. Who the hell are you? Where’d you come from?”

The Interlopers may mention Milton, and he will slowly lower his gun a little, his eyes wide in disbelief. He explains how the road to Milton is gone, and he hasn’t heard anything from the town in months, worrying for the townsfolk and how they might be surviving up there. Explaining the situation in Milton, with what happened to the original townsfolk will be met with horror and more disbelief, but there’s something in his expression that understands and slowly he will come to believe it.

“Everything went to hell all those months ago. I didn’t know what happened to everyone else.” He is… grief stricken, pain washing into his face. “Then who are you? If everyone died in Milton, what’re you doing here? How did you all get out of town?”

He will be suspicious of answers, but for the most part the man is confused but mostly satisfied. The mention of Methuselah will actually make him baulk enough to lower the gun, a low laugh bubbling from him. Finally, he straightens, holding onto his rifle with one hand and calling through to the barking dog still within the cabin. The dog is instantly silenced, albeit whining a little.

He regards the newcomers for the longest of moments and sighs, his shoulders heavy as he wipes at his face with his free hand. What else is he to do?

“Alright, then.” he nods shortly. “They call me Young Bill.”

He motions with his head over his shoulder behind him.

“Let’s get you folks inside.”

Inside, Interlopers will find a warm and rustic cabin, much like the kind of homes they have found in Milton. There are four rooms: a main living area with a kitchen, lit with a roaring fire. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom, plus ample space in the roof, accessible by a ladder. The cabin is seemingly cluttered, but everything has its place: pelts hang to dry, traps and nets and fishing tackle. There are two lifetimes worth of items in this place.

There is also a dog, the source of the barking from the cabin: an Alaskan Malamute. If asked, Young Bill will tell Interlopers that her name is: “Scout”. She will accept pets.

FAQs

1. This is an NPC Interaction with your new NPC, Young Bill. While a larger group of Interlopers may be present, this is a limited and short-thread interaction, available for up to 5 players. Threads are set at a five comment max totally: three from your character, two from Young Bill. Essentially: nine characters may show up to Young Bill's Cabin and be present, only five characters will be talking to Young Bill.

2. Characters are free to ask anything, but we ask that players don’t take liberties and list off twenty questions, for example. Keep it short and sweet, please!

3. The plotting post can be found here.

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Lalo looks up at Young Bill, grinning up at the other man from his current position kneeling on the floor, ruffling Scout's ears. "Thank you for having us," Lalo says, with surprising genuineness. "I apologize that we don't have a gift. I would've brought up something for you, if I'd known anyone would be welcoming me into their home."

There's hospitality extended to them, but Young Bill is far from the chipper and cheerful sort. These people are still practically strangers to him and he regards them all, this man included, with an air of wary stand-offishness. It's been a rough several months.

He's quiet in the face of the niceties, folding his arms over his chest.

"Uh-huh." there's a short nod. "No need to kiss my ass there, buddy."

Let's get to it, then. Down to the brass tacks.

"What d'you wanna know?"

He is hurt! He is stricken! You reject Lalo's hospitality? You crush his spirit? He wanted to bring a gift for you! FOR YOU! How dare--

Lalo's ears perk up at the direct question lobbed at him. He looks away to give Scout more pets, before back up and Young Bill. What was that phrase Saul had used? "Brass tacks! I like it!" he says, because the ass-kissing never ends. Then he goes on. Straight to the point, like this classless hillbilly apparently wants.

"What have you heard about The Darkwalker?" Lalo's eyes glitter curiously.

.... Buddy, you're in his house, here.

"The Darkwalker?" asked, almost incredulous. Yeah, he's not expecting that one — and he unfolds his arms as he considers for a few moments. "The hell you wanna know about that for?"

Well, if that's what the kiss-ass wants to know.

"I mean, the usual shit? It's a story kids grow up hearing. Plenty of songs and sayings about it: 'May the Darkwalker never catch you.'" he exhales, putting his hands on his hips. "It's the story about the end of the world. That's what we believe in the Northern Territories. The Darkwalker is... death, basically. Some folk believe it to be kind of Devil-like figure. It devours your souls. That sorta thing.

"And then other folk tie it into a creation myth, too. Darkwalker swallows the world and then goes to sleep. End of the world. But that's not the end of the story. After it goes to sleep in the earth, they believe that everything it’s swallowed grows within it once more and then grows out of the earth again."

He shrugs. Satisfied?

He knows! He appreciates it! Someday all of you stoic gringos will see the value of Lalo's pizzazz.

Anyway, Lalo gives Scout one final smack on the hindquarters before standing up. He wouldn't be so crass as to reach out to shake a man's hand right after he was just playing with an animal, so he gives Young Bill a nod of acknowledgement and comprehension instead.

Ruby thankfully wasn't exactly a stranger to being held up at gun point- So it's easy enough for her to let it slide. Instead she is a little more interested to hear more about a native to this world. So once they're more comfortable in his cabin she'll take a chance to ask a few questions.

A pause and then she adds in. "I guess I'm not really expecting like your life story or anything. But any information about your experiences just before things started going crazy around here or the last few months? Anything that can help us survive a little better or figure out what's happened would be great."

And she taps her chin in thought looking at all the trapping gear. "That goes for any tips or tricks you have on hunting, and trapping the wildlife here. I'm pretty sure you've noticed how aggressive they can be."

Edited 2024-03-10 17:05 (UTC)

It is... kinda weird with the fact there's kids here. And said kids are asking him questions. All of this just feels like a whole lot more of 'messed up'. He's a little short in his manner, but not unkind.

"I've lived here in Lakeside a long time. I moved back here over ten years ago now, and the world was already going to Hell, back then." he tells her. "Weather getting worse, wildlife acting crazy. Life out here isn't easy, but it wasn't like that when I was a kid."

He shakes his head and exhales deeply.

"Wildlife getting worse is the main problem. Started up nearly a year ago. You wanna be careful of predators. Plenty of bears and wolves in these parts, and the bears aren't sleeping." he explains. "Wolves hate loud noises, guns especially. Just make sure you're not aiming at them, or they'll charge. A good shoot from the hip sends them running, otherwise best hope you're a crack shot. They're not fond of fire or flares, either. They'll still try to follow you but they'll keep their distance. Bears are trickier. Loud noises scare 'em if they can't see you, but they're more determined than the wolves if they can."

He raises his eyebrows at the girl: "If you wanna hunt them? My advice: don't. Unless you know what you're doing."

Ruby appreciates it, and she's not exactly unused to the fact that it was weird getting questions out of her. ...She was the second youngest out of the group she travelled with back at home, and she was expected to lead them. That caused some friction here and there.

"Do you remember how old you were when things started making a turn for the worse? Have you always lived up here alone?"

She makes note of everything that he's explaining about the wildlife in the area. And then tilts her head a little.

"I like to think I know what I'm doing. At least back where I'm from. But I'm not exactly at the top of my game, and things are different here. Would you be willing to show me the ropes so I can pass some tips along to anyone else who might be able back at our camp? Maybe we can find a way to work together? Only if you want to- And we wont bug you beyond what you're willing to do or say."

Seeing as he's pretty lone wolf this seems like a long shot, but it's worth asking if they can keep things on terms he'd be comfortable with.

"Noticed it pretty much as soon as I moved back here to live with my father. I guess I was maybe... twenty or so?" he's thoughtful for a moment. "Me and my mom moved to the Mainland when I was about eleven. I don't remember the wildlife being bad, back then."

There's a slightly grim look for a moment at the second question part of what she says.

"Listen. I don't mean any offense by this: thinking you're knowing what you're doing and knowing what you're doing are two different things. That's a sure fire way of getting yourself killed, and you seem like a nice kid."

He falls quiet for a few moments as he considers, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'll consider it. I still don't know you people."

Ruby's gives a little nod at his answers. It wasn't full on clarity but it was something to consider for the moment.

She doesn't seem offended by the comments on hunting but she offers a little bit of clarity. "That's why I'm asking for advice. I'm plenty confident I can do it back where I'm from. I know the monsters and animals where I'm from. I just don't want to treat the ones here the same way because they're obviously not."

And she gives an awkward but friendly shrug.

"That works for me. All I'm asking for is the chance to prove we're worth it. I wont push beyond that until you decide for yourself."

[ No sooner are they inside than Dief is trotting over to the Malamute, tail wagging like a flag, ears pricked. Fraser's glance follows the wolf, narrowing faintly, before he turns his attention onto the man they've now met. ]

You thought we were...

[ He's not going to say it. ]

...some other group of people, earlier. Who are these 'nutjobs' you were expecting?

[ Fraser isn't the only keeping a brief eye on the two. He is not here for a whole ass dog fight breaking out in here. Scout on the other hand is unsure, but curious of the wolf — head tilting. No fighting here, that's for sure. Young Bill huffs a little at the question, folding his arms over his chest. ]

‘Forest Talkers’. Eco-group made up of some locals and mostly a whole load of Mainlanders that rocked up here a few years back. They weren’t so bad at first, just a pain in the ass for the big companies working here. Messing with machinery, protests, minor vandalism. That sort of thing.

[ It doesn't sound bad, and in truth Young Bill doesn't sound too bothered about those antics. ]

I'd see them, they'd see me. We never bothered each other. Until everything went to shit.

And what happened then? When things started going badly?

[ Right now, it's far from a fight; Diefenbaker is bowing, head low and wagging tail high, before juking to the side, teasing. He hasn't had any other dogs to play with since they came here, and there's no mistaking the delighted interest in the way he coaxes Scout to join him in his games.

Fraser keeps one eye on them as he speaks to the other man. ]

Do you know where they've gone now? We haven't seen signs of any other people in the area.

[ Scout's still watching curiously at the attempts to play, stepping forward for an inquisitive sniff at Diefenbaker's muzzle — pretty relaxed with the interaction. Slowly, her tail starts to wag. Okay, wolf-boy. She'll bite. ]

They got nasty. Causing all sorts of trouble. Breaking my traps, trying to steal from me, trashing places— [ There's something in his expression that suggest there's more than that — but he isn't sharing it. He's not sharing all his troubles with complete strangers. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. ]

They're holed up in the old Hunting Lodge, down in southern Lakeside. I wouldn't go that way. And you'd do good to mind yourselves out there.

[ Fraser gives him a polite nod and clasps his hands behind his back. ]

We will. Thank you kindly for the information. Dief?

...Dief?

[ The wolf wholly ignores him, all his focus on Scout. Now that she's warming up to him, he meets her sniff with his own, curious. She might be shy, but he's friendly... and persistent. ]

Louis isn't warmed by the idea of coming to call on a man who greeted the Interlopers by pointing a gun at them. But during the early evening, he wakes first thing, makes himself as neat and well-dressed as he can be in traveling flannels and no pomade.

He introduces himself as the owner of Milton's newly reopened General Store and arrives with some tins of coffee and tea (and a flask of bourbon if Young Bill seems amenable). He thinks he ought not to come empty-handed, as Southern manners taught him, though he uses his American casualness to try to put the host at ease.

Others asked about immediate threats from supernatural monsters, and Louis (a supernatural monster himself) let them. He's more curious about what can be used to Milton's advantage.

"Durin' the Aurora storms in December and January, the radios came on crazy as they usually did... and there was somethin' new, a woman's voice fightin' through the static, sayin' our names and 'help.' I thought it was a prank at first, but now I'm not so sure..."

Smalltalk brushed aside, Louis grows more serious and thoughtful.

"So of course, not only for food, but findin' other people, we've been venturin' farther out from Milton. But somethin's already done so it seems, judgin' by the tracks. Take a look at these. I can't identify them with any books about local plants."

He passes him a small hand-sized box. Inside are a few tiny pieces of vine and foliage. Are they foreign? Louis is not sure.

"Know anythin' about these things, the woman and the plants from the outside?"

Young Bill is suspicious at first, cautious. The arrival of the Interlopers has at least softened the blow of strangers turning up at his door, but he's still wary — considering his troubles with others in the area. But he lets the man in. He knew some of the old owners of the store in Milton. They were good people, trying to keep the place afloat in tough times.

He will accept the coffee, but he's not the friendliest of sorts there's at least a cool politeness to him.

"I've not heard it." he answers the first query with a shake of his head. "But it doesn't sound like a prank. I've heard stuff on my own radio. Emergency broadcasts, sure. Sometimes I'd hear folks calling out on the frequencies on my radio whenever the lights would be in the sky — men, women. But nothing like that. Certainly no one that would know my name, at any rate."

He's thoughtful as he looks over the plants, picking them up carefully out of the box to inspect them — brow furrowing.

"These aren't from here." he says after a short silence. "Definitely not. I'd recognise just about all the plants in the Northern Territories, and I've never seen these before. This kind of stuff probably wouldn't even grow here. What kinda tracks were they?"

Louis has his own experience being cagey. Cops like Bigby can attest. Louis decides not to ask Young Bill prying questions about himself.

Was the woman's message on the radio meant for Interlopers only? Or did the radius just affect only Milton's electronics? Maybe a local ham radio operator whose signal was blocked by the mine... Louis tries not to theorize too much at the moment. He's just here to collect the facts first.

"They different from wolves, and we got too many of those... Dog, I think, but not ours." Diefenbaker has verifiable alibis. "I came across a stray once that seemed way too smart, but I twisted my ankle and had to get back into town. So you can't identify the plants?"

"Whatever's going on, it's weird." Young Bill's quiet for a while as he considers, a hand reaching to scratch at his beard. He's frowning. "Sounds like something you'd hear in a story. Old wives' tale or something. Dogs leading folk to getting them hurt."

He shakes his head at the question.

"Nope. Nothing I'm familiar with. Whatever that dog was carrying, it's not from here." there's a pause as he considers: "Bit like you folk, huh? Whole load of people appear in this place out of nowhere, right?"

Makes you wonder.

Louis purses his lips but nods. He just doesn't like admitting a dog got the better of him.

"Not by choice," he reminds him. "I will say, one of us has a dog from home. So it's not just people but animals too."

Louis doesn't know that Diefenbaker has already made his introductions. That's the problem with being allergic to the sun, perennially late to things. So a few things get rehashed, but Louis does his best to linger only on new subjects.

Well, this has been... fun. [ It's said with little enthusiasm. His impression of the Interlopers is... a mixed bag, in all honesty. Somewhat pleasant. Kind of weird. He's wary of them, and not exactly thrilled with the things he's learned about Milton and— yeah, well this sucks.

He's quiet for a moment or two before he moves towards a cluttered desk and hunts around in a drawer. After some searching, he pulls out a folded map and unfurls it. He reaches for a pen and makes a few cross marks on it. One at a spot labelled 'Mountain Pass Tunnel' and another at 'Milton Connector Bridge'. Anyone who comes over to look at what he's working on, he'll start pointing out places. ]

So you came from Milton, here. Now the main road to get from Milton to Silverpoint is a no-go. Mountain Pass went about the time everything went to shit. Milton Connector's always been a bit shaky due to quake activity in this place. Now it's completely gone. You probably noticed some of the railway line's a mess. Tracks buckled. You'll see the same when you hit the roads, too. There's probably another way out of Lakeside to get to the Coast, but who knows where that'll be.

[ He straightens, gathering up the map and holding it out to the closest Interloper. ]

Here. Spare copy. If you folks are here for the long haul, it can't help to know where the hell you are. Welcome to the Northern Territories, I guess. [ There's a shrug and a grim smile. ] I'll see about making some more copies for your group when I can. Try not to die out there.

[ Easier said than done, he knows. But hey, at least you'll know where you're dying. ]

Edited 2024-03-29 16:26 (UTC)

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NPC Interaction: Young Bill

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Benton Fraser

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Farewell