I'd sit there and look at the deserted lakes and I'd sing

[singmod]

MARCH 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — EXIT STRATEGY: With the way via the main road a no-go, Methuselah finds a potential and very dangerous way out of the Milton area: the Milton Mines. During the Aurora, the Interlopers must find a way to safely navigate the mines and find a way through.

PROMPT TWO — BRAVE NEW WORLD: Interlopers make their way into the Lakeside area, and are free to explore the more of the Northern Territories: a place of both industry and leisure.

PROMPT THREE — THE ECHO: On Aurora nights, the aftermath of the Darkwalker's attack on the Interlopers continues to ripple through the community — with a painful affliction.

EXIT STRATEGY

WHEN: Mid-month.
WHERE: Milton Mines.
CONTENT WARNINGS: claustrophobic situations; potential injury/maiming; potential electrocution/electrocution injuries; potential burn injuries; hyperthermic situations; exploration horror;


Unusually, Methuselah returns to the town around the middle of the month. He is looking pleased and will ask that the Interlopers gather in the Community Hall. Once gathered, he climbs onto the small stage at one end of the Hall and explains that following last month’s Feast, he set out to try to find a way out of Milton, and he believes he may have found a way out.

He goes on to explain that although the Milton Mine has been closed for many years, there may still be access through the mine. The mine had two entrances through either sides of the stone, one on the Milton side since many of the residents worked the mine back in the day, but there was also an additional entrance on the opposite side, which led to a railway track that allowed easier export of coal and precious materials towards the coast. Having gained access, he believes the mine seems to mostly remain intact, but not easy to get through. However, he discovered that during the Aurora, the old mine and its electronics came to life — meaning a way through is certainly possible during those times with the added electronics in play.

It is not much, and it is certainly incredibly dangerous, but it is something. There is certainly no way out towards the south; towards the north might be the Interlopers’ best chance of finding a way out of Milton.

Methuselah will ask for any volunteers to join him in trying to find a way out via the mines, taking them up north and then waiting for an Aurora to happen before they can then make their way through and explore the mine system. Anyone is free to sign up, and he suggests someone drawing up a sign up sheet so that Interlopers have an idea of who is leaving the town on the journey.

The hike towards the mines is a long one, taking a few hours on an incline to reach the northern mountains. Waiting on the Aurora may take time, so setting up camp is the next step — waiting for night and hoping the skies fill with night soon. Interlopers are free to explore the mine beforehand, but will find a lot of it locked up tight. With areas unreachable without power and the darkness suffocating, they won’t get very far.

When the Aurora does finally come, the mine will come to life: the system’s lighting will come on throughout, albeit flickering and a little unreliable. Machinery and track systems whir and groan as the mine slowly cranks itself into functioning once more. While there are maps of the system to help Interlopers navigate the system — showing a second entrance labelled as ‘Lakeside Entrance’ — the true difficulty in getting through lies in wait.

Interlopers will find that parts of the system have been partially flooded: with the frigid water in places mostly ankle deep and others reaching no higher than knee-high on an average-height man. What’s worse, is the half-destroyed electrics ravaged by both time and the Aurora mean plenty of loose wires hanging here and there. It’s possible to accidentally catch yourself on them, meaning burn injuries and mild electric shocks — but care should be taken in checking if these wires may have fallen into these flooded parts. Stepping into these live waters will be far more deadly. They will also find that the electronically-powered gates that open through into areas may not function, with the fuses having been blown.

Gaining access through the mine is not impossible, however. It will simply require a little bit of legwork. One of the larger caverns of the mines houses a fuse board. Characters can switch off sections of the mines in order to traverse them safely, find new fuses in toolboxes scattered through the mines in order to open the gates and make their way through to gain access to the elevator of the mine — which will also require new fuses, in order to power the electrics to get it to function.

It is perhaps, most frustrating, that once Interlopers get the elevator working and head downwards into the final section of the mine, that they will come across hand-cranks — allowing them to use the elevator without the need for electricity. But at least the hard part is over, and the Interlopers now have a way through from Milton that doesn’t require relying on the Aurora to power the mine’s electrics.

On the lower section of the mine, there will be a handful of more gated rooms to get through before reaching the Lakeside Entrance, and more wires and flooded areas to traverse. But you can taste it: something on the air. You’re close.

You’ve made it, Interloper.

BRAVE NEW WORLD

WHEN: Mid-month, onwards.
WHERE: Milton Mines (Lakeside Entrance); The Ravine; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of exploration/survival; themes of peril; acrophobia; potential character/npc death from falls; potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk;

Coming out of the mines, you will be greeted by a small mining camp and railway track enclosed by mountains on both sides. It’s incredibly sheltered here, with little wind chill and not as much snow on the ground compared to some of the more open areas of Milton. It may be best to rest here for the rest of the night. There are several portacabins that were used to house some of the former miners, along with additional cabins with one being some kind of foreman’s office, one that served as a kind of mess hall and one for bathing/toilet needs.

While there is little in terms of supplies left in there, some scraps may be found here and there — plus the cabins will provide decent shelter from the cold, which may be the last Interlopers will get ahead of the long walk down through the mountain track and into Lakeside. There is also plenty of coal left lying around, too — allowing for Interlopers to craft fires to keep warm. Even with it being sheltered, it’s still cold out.

In terms of where to go from here, the only way seems to be to follow the track. It’s a long walk, but rather straightforward if you keep to the tracks. A good few hours of it, but it’s quiet — and there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of wildlife or windchill here. It almost seems too easy, or as easy as it could be in regards to a long walk through thick snow.

Until you come face to face with the ravine.

The world opens up to you, with the tracks stretching over a huge valley via a… mostly sturdy-looking wooden and steel bridge. There doesn’t seem to be any way around it, no alternative route of getting over to the other side. Crossing the bridge is the only option. Care should be taken, with Interlopers now being vulnerable to the wind and the snow-laden tracks. As sturdy as the bridge looks, it seems to creak and groan under the weight of a single footstep. There even appears to be the remains of fall train-carts in the depths, from some unfortunate incident years ago. It’s probably fine.

Crossing the bridge and continuing down the tracks will eventually have the world opening up even more — you’ve finally reached Lakeside. Thick boreal forests crowd around the tracks, and in places, Interlopers will note that the tracks have buckled and become badly damaged. When they find roads, they will also find them in similar states of disrepair from beneath the snow. Following them for another hour or so will eventually lead to Lakeside’s Maintenance Yard. From here, there is a road, with directions: signs pointing towards Milton, the Coast, Lakeside Resort and the Carter Hydrodam.

For those interested in searching the Maintenance Yard, they will be greeted by a large, fenced in building. Fortunately, a great deal of the fencing has been damaged with the bad weather and it is easy enough to gain access. The place is a bit of a mess: scrap metal, wood, and dissued trucks and cars litter the yard, along with wood that can be used for kindling and firewood. Inside the Maintenance Yard, it is a little bit of a mechanic’s dream. There’s plenty of tools in this place, and even a forge which could be used for crafting if someone has the patience to fire it up and keep it hot for long enough. There’s plenty of stores of coal, at least. But in terms of a living space, there’s not much else other than a small break room with some comfy chairs to catch some quick shut-eye. Searching the Yard for any letters or such will reveal a similar theme to that of Milton: difficulty in reaching the Mainland with postage and correspondences, the lack of staffing, and the problems with wildlife. There are also complaints and concerns over growing dangers of small quakes causing damage to the roads and rail system.

Following the road towards the Lakeside Resort is a mostly quiet and pleasant enough trek, as long as one keeps close to or on the road there as much as possible. The Resort is largely secluded, even if it is around the actual lake itself, and it’s easy to see just why this place would have been a popular vacation place.

The resort is a collection of a dozen luxury cabins dotted around the edge of the lake, each of them with a decent amount of space between them for privacy. The cabins themselves are sturdy and well built, but look far more modern and almost designer in terms of style - with huge almost floor to ceiling windows and spacious porches for that perfect lakeside view, and open plan rooms and balconies. Each of the cabins contain multiple bedrooms, suitable for vacationing families and mix both modern technology and more rustic means of heating homes — making them ideal for all weathers.

A couple of the cabins are not completed, appearing to be a kind of expansion of the resort that was not finished. Build materials still remain here. Some of the cabins on the furthest side appear to have become victims of vandalism, having been broken into and completely trashed with windows smashed, furniture missing and broken, and any goods completely ransacked from the place. There are perhaps five cabins out of the twelve that remain fully intact and may contain useful items such as food, basic medical supplies and tools, and will certainly be excellent shelters for those looking for somewhere to stay.

There is also a Camp Office, situated at the east side of the lake. Used as a kind of main office of maintenance for the cabins, along with an office or tourist centre of sorts. It has a decent stock of hiking and outdoor essentials. The Camp Office does also have a small living space upstairs — presumably used by Lake staff or rangers, with a wood stove and kitchenette, along with a bathroom and several bunk-beds. It appears that the Camp Office wasn't abandoned until a short while ago — no more than a couple of months.

Following the road to the Hydrodam is a trickier one than the one to the Resort. There is a higher volume of predator wildlife here, with wolf howls closer and more frequent. With the current state of wildlife’s behaviours, it is likely to face attacks from wolves on the way there. The Carter Hydrodam has clearly seen better days. It seems to have fallen into disrepair and may have only been run by a small skeleton crew. While the Hydrodam is gated and locked up tight, it’s possible to break in through the gate and gain access.

While the lower dam is currently out of bounds, Interlopers will be able to get into the upper levels of the main building of the Hydrodam, which consists mostly of offices, maintenance rooms, a medical bay, and rooms banked with control panels, plus staff areas. The med bay is relatively well stocked, but might need a little forced entry with certain medical lockers and cabinets. Tools and other useful items can also be found here, along with bunk rooms, a small canteen and bathrooms/showers. It might be possible with some work to get access to hot water here — the showering systems run on a back-up furnace system, and while some of the pipes are broken, it might be possible to fix them to get the hot water system up and running again.

Following the road to the Coast will find a dead end. The bridge that heads over towards that direction has been damaged beyond repair, and there looks to be no way of getting around it. Perhaps, much like with getting out of Milton, there may be an alternate way of getting further south, but time will tell.

But for now, here is an entirely new region, ripe for the picking. While it appears some places have already seen minor scavenging (with the exception to the vandalism and looting of some of the resort cabins), Lakeside is largely untouched. It is full of game to hunt, an expansive lake to take up ice-fishing in, and indoor locations to search through for supplies. Some Interlopers may decide to stay here permanently now that it’s easier to travel between Lakeside and Milton.

THE ECHO

WHEN: Aurora Nights, the month of March.
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/otherworldly afflictions; themes of grief; themes of loss

There are roughly no more than ten Aurora nights during the month of March, and everything occurs as usual: the insanely bright colours swirling in the skies before you, the crackles and pops of static in the air providing percussion to the strange, ethereal chorus of almost-electrical sounds. The electrics of the world around coming alive with its usual sputtering and falters. There is much mystery to these strange, almost supernatural phenomena — but they almost feel like a kind of staple in the Northern Territories.

But on these nights something different happens.

If you listen closely, the sound of weeping can be heard on the air. Those with the Aurora Call Feat will be particularly drawn to the sound, and will hear it more clearly compared to their fellow Interlopers. It is the sound of a woman, and those paying attention might be able to recognise the voice it belongs to: it is the same woman heard over the static of radios and televisions in December and early January. The same woman that spoke to Interlopers, telling them to sleep, with the promise of help — thus granting some of them powers. It is the same voice that screamed out the night La’an Noonien-Singh died, and the night of those recently killed in the church.

She is… grief-stricken. Her weeping is a raw and anguished thing, and the more you listen, the more it seems to grip at you. You feel her pain, maybe it echoes within your own. Those you have lost, those you have failed or hurt — a reverb that grows stronger as the night continues. It is an all-consuming pain, its depths endless. It brings tears to your eyes.

You carry this pain, as she does.

You feel it in your very bones, in your flesh and sinew. It’s an exhaustive pain, and as the night progresses, you find yourself incredibly weary. In a strange state of fatigue that won’t even allow you to sleep.

You may find yourself going in search of comfort amongst friends, or loved ones. To hold a hand, to embrace them — to not be alone in this pain you feel.

But it is a pain that is too great.

On these nights, you will find yourselves alone, without the comfort you would otherwise lean on. You will not be soothed by that comfort of others. For as long as the Aurora lasts, reaching out and touching others will bring real physical pain to you. It will hurt to touch others, and physical contact will produce a sharp biting pain, even for those who may not feel pain otherwise. Too much. It’s… too much.

Some of you were told once, in a dream: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

Once the lights in the sky fade, that pain will finally ease and the woman’s sobs will go quiet — but it will return once more, when the next Aurora comes.

FAQs

EXIT STRATEGY

1. It is entirely possible for NPC Interlopers to die in the mines due to electrocution, and players are free to use NPCs — we ask that players give mods a heads up so that the masterlist can be updated accordingly.


BRAVE NEW WORLD

1. The lower dam is currently completely physically impossible to access. The door that leads there is jammed shut. Characters will notice half-frozen water leaking on the floor around the door.

2. It is possible to find bodies in Lakeside, however there is a... suspiciously low amount of them, and the rare ones found by characters will have been there for some time. They will have appeared to have died of exposure.

3. Wolves can be found in Lakeside, and their tracks are incredibly common. Interactions with wolves can happen in the exploration of this region, and they will behave much like they did during the September event and be incredibly hostile to players.

4. Bears are also common in Lakeside, and their tracks can also be found. They technically should be still hibernating, and much like wolves — they will be aggressive towards Interlopers. Keep your distance!

5. Lakeside unlocking comes with a Companion Event of an Interation with a new NPC!

THE ECHO

1. Essentially: physical touch with others will bring Interlopers physical pain. Sorry about that.

2. It is possible for Interlopers with Aurora Call to attempt to reach out to the woman. Those interested can inquire into what that interaction may be like! They can find out what that entails here.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[sputnik]

[ While he waits for the water and food to heat up, Konstantin slowly gets out some things to eat on and two mugs, setting them down on the counter, looking over his shoulder at Vasiliy after. The request makes his heart warm, and also tighten, and he can't imagine an existence without Vasya there to talk to ever again. So much of their time is spent like that, together — sharing conversation in their native language, in this cabin, safely tucked away. It's become... comfortable. He doesn't want to lose it. To lose him. ]

Of course. Would you like one of my daring stories now before you go? [ He gives a playful lift of brows. ] Or should I wait for when you return?

if u wanna handwave/be vague instead of coming up w a whole space story i'm totally down 4 that btw

[m1895]

One. But not your best. Save that for when I get back. I'll be too tired to do anything but listen to stories about space.

[ Every time he shares his stories, his admiration—and respect, and fondness—grows. This is really a man who's been to space, unthinkably higher than he himself has ever been, outside of the planet.

And if he could survive orbit in a place so hostile to human life as that, surely Vasiliy can survive a few days' trek through a mine and up a mountain. It's just cold, not literally unsurvivable (although Kostya was trained for years, a little voice reminds him—) and there is safety in numbers. And he has a gun. Not that it would do anything against the creature they're calling the Darkwalker, but. ]

Kostya's Space Adventure + some handwaved idle chatter 2 pass the time??

[sputnik]

[ There's that concept again — that possibility, that outcome. One of two. 'When I get back'

Perhaps it's dangerous for someone like him to hold onto something like hope. By all rights, Konstantin Veshnyakov should instead be preparing himself for the worst. He knows, somewhere beneath the stability with which he's able to handle his own situation, that he needs to come undone about a lot of things. (He'll never reach Aleksei, he'll never be freed of the creature — that dark fate he deserves, he'll never be a Hero again— doesn't he know these things, not so deep down?)

For now, though.... no. No, he needs to hold onto hope. He needs to believe that the outcome in which Vasiliy comes back to him is the one that happens.

He smiles again, moving to fix two mugs of tea and bringing them over to the sofa. The food's not quite heated yet, but there's some time for that. First — tea, and a story. Handing the other man a cup, Konstantin then settles in to sit next to him, body turned towards Vasiliy. ]

I know exactly which one I'll tell you when you return. My best. [ A little promise between them. ] But I have another you might enjoy for now.

[ And so he gets right into it, comfortable with speaking, sharing stories; it's something he's done quite a bit of back home, but here... it's not for an audience. It's for a friend. He can't hide the enthusiasm in his voice as he talks about it; he's always wanted to be a spaceman, he'd reached his own dream and then pushed it further.

And he's happy to keep conversing about anything it leads to, to spend some time with Vasiliy just sitting there, drinking and refreshing tea as needed, sharing company; they've done it countless times over these months and there's nowhere he'd rather be. At some point he does get back up to make some plates of heated food from the cans, not the tastiest thing around, but it will put something warm in Vasiliy's stomach so that he can start his journey with some fuel.

Konstantin realises his second cup of tea is empty now, and slowly sets it down. He doesn't want to say goodbye. ]

Is it nearing that time?

[m1895]

[ It’s addicting, entrancing, the excitement in his narration; Vasiliy wishes he could just sit here, drinking tea with him, listening to him talk about a world he never could have imagined for the rest of eternity. He’d never get bored; he’d never need anyone else’s company.

But—

Konstantin is right. His heart sinks; he glances down at his watch even though he knows, deep down, that he doesn’t need to, then looks back up at him, a painful thing to do. He’s dimly aware of a new tightness in his throat. The outside that awaits him seems so cold compared to their little cabin. He doesn’t want to go, and worse yet, he feels guilty: he knows it’s a good thing he’s doing, the right thing, and he still feels bad. He’s leaving Konstantin entirely alone in his fate, dooming him, perhaps, to the same loneliness he’d felt before they met. He rises to his feet, worrying his lower lip for a brief moment before studying Konstantin’s face. ]

Yes. …I should probably go meet the party now.

[ What can he possibly say? How can they sum up everything that has transpired between them, how can he possibly put it into words? ]

[sputnik]

[ How quickly time passes. An hour, two, melting away like nothing.

It's easy to lose track of time with the other man's company; those long sleepless nights feel much less long when they're quietly sharing conversation like some secret. Or when they share meals, sitting in front of the fire, discussing any number of things. When they go into town together, or when Konstantin occasionally keeps him company while the EMT is working hard outside. There are pressing things to worry about, logistic ones — he's become used to having the other man there with him when feeding the creature, to check on its state, to keep things running safely. And the creature itself.... has likely adapted to understand that Vasiliy plays a role in its stability. It sometimes even seems to respond to the sounds, the vibrations, of his voice when he returns home, as if it knows he's the trigger for feeding. ....How might it react to an absence of that?

But in this moment, the concern that nudges the hardest within him is the loneliness he knows he'll feel without that conversation, that companionship.

That, and the worry for him, to know he's going into some unknown territory, potentially extremely dangerous. Konstantin breathes slow and quiet as he stares at Vasiliy, slowly setting his empty cup aside, then leans forwards to stand. ]

I'll see you off.

[ He moves to fetch the bag of food he'd prepared for him, and he'll help gather anything else the younger man might have prepared to bring along, moving slowly towards the door. There are... things to say, he feels something swelling up under his sternum and he swallows; firstly he's looking him over— ]

Do you have everything you need?

[m1895]

[ Vasiliy takes the bag of food and slips his shoulders into the straps, then grabs the shoulder strap of his EMS bag and adds that to one side—then stands there, fully equipped but unable to will himself out of the door, again studying the other. Trying to remember every detail of his face, his body, his voice, the person that he was—for another life, if it comes, one in which there is no Konstantin Veshnyakov.

(A thought that makes everything inside of him simultaneously feel hollow and like it’s made of lead, weighing him down toward the earth.) ]

Yes.

[ His voice comes out quieter than he thought it would. ]

[sputnik]

[ There's no sense in dwelling, in prolonging it — it's something that has to happen, and will happen. But Konstantin found some sudden part of himself wishing, foolishly, that Vasiliy wasn't quite ready to go yet. That he might have forgotten something — that the seconds might stretch into a few more minutes together. But they can't, they don't. It's time for him to go.

He nods, and there's a sad smile in his eyes, and he nods again. Once, twice, hands reaching up to clasp the younger man's shoulders and give a firm squeeze to both. Something affectionate and encouraging in equal parts, the way he might do to someone back home, one of his co-workers, companions. And maybe it's a little polite, a little detached, a little safe.

(Maybe it's not enough. His heart is skipping an odd beat, and he feels his throat tighten. Konstantin Veshnyakov has never struggled too much with goodbyes, but something has changed, he's lost— everything, and there's a chance he'll lose this man, too.) At once, his hands are pulling those shoulders forwards, and then his arms are moving down so that they can wrap around the other, drawing Vasiliy to himself in a flush, warm hug, his voice deep and quiet. ]

Vasya. Come here.

[ (They fit together so easily, he finds, the height difference between them an asset and not a hindrance.)

It's a rare gesture, even for someone as physically tactile as Konstantin. Fever-induced episodes of clinginess aside.. he hasn't pulled Vasiliy close like this. Hasn't ever hugged him, and some part of him is aware of a little flicker of discomfort at the realisation that someone is so close to his body, a source of horror and disgust. But that part is almost completely swallowed up by the warmth of it, and all of the ways he's trying to memorise how his dearest friend feels. He may never, ever see him again. ]

Thank you— for everything.

[ The words feel too much like a finality. He doesn't want them to. But... he has to tell him. He can't let that go unspoken. ]

[m1895]

[ It feels like something out of a dream, and it takes him a moment to register what's happened; he's already held against the warm mass of the other's body by the time it really occurs to him that he's being held, secure in the other's embrace, nose pressing into his shoulder, taking in the smell of his clothes. (His arms are so strong, he's so sturdy, even after a few months of malnutrition—)

Vasiliy hugs him back, firmly, fingertips sinking into the fabric over his broad back. Maybe, if they just stay like this, time won't continue to pass. Nothing will happen outside, and they won't have to separate. He wants to stay secluded in the pocket universe that exists within the walls of this cabin, in Konstantin's arms, forever.

But he can't.

He withdraws slightly, a half-step back, not fully disentangling himself from Konstantin's arms even as he drops his own back to his sides—he'd like the touch to linger as long as he can make it last. He'd like something to focus on while he dies, if he dies—all that had occupied his mind the first time was raw terror and thoughts of how much he didn't want to die, when he should have thought about his mother and father, or any of the partners that proceeded his current solitude, or a fond memory. Anything to blunt the horrible sudden anguish of death. He'll think about Kostya, this time—he'll concentrate on every remembered facial feature, every detail, the smell of his hair and clothes and the weight of his body, packing them away to bring with him into the next life.

(Or maybe he'll be lucky. Maybe last time was a fluke. In a way, it would be kinder, finally running out of borrowed time, not outliving the one promise of human company—)

His eyes flicker across the other's face for a moment, searching; he swallows. ]

I should... go.

[sputnik]

[ Guilt pools in again with a fresh flood that makes him feel sick to his stomach. He should be going with Vasiliy. Helping him, and the others. He should be there....

He can't, he knows he can't, tells himself this over and over again as he keeps the younger man firmly to himself for those lingering moments, and then reacts to the softest shift of Vasiliy's body, lets it take that little half-step back. He stays holding him even if it's changed their postures a little, arms reaching out a bit more, and now they can look at each other for a moment.

'I should... go.'

He should. He has to. Konstantin's heart is in his throat, and he nods, and slowly begins to pull back. As he does, his head just as slowly turns, mouth brushing the other's cheek in a soft but intentional kiss.

It's nothing that lingers, something that could simply count as a "peck", though no less warm. It's something affectionate and brotherly, a dose of greeting or goodbye in their culture, even if not as practiced so often these days, for him. ]

Come back safely, Vasya. I'll be here to welcome you back.

[ (It's something that makes his heart skip an odd beat, and it's one of the hardest things he's ever had to pull away from, the feel of soft skin against his mouth, the warmth of Vasiliy and everything he represents here — home.) ]

[m1895]

[ It's not terribly uncommon in the culture from which they both hail, the goodbye kiss as an expression of fraternal affection—but it's not the norm, and he certainly didnt expect it from Kostya.

In fact, he never would have imagined he'd ever know what the other's lips feel like against his face. But he does, now, because Kostya kisses him, briefly and on the cheek, and his heart all but stops, then races, trying to make sense of what's just happened: Konstantin kissed him. Not with the meaning he'd like it to carry, but he still feels an immense rush of warmth, almost buoyant even in the shadow of such a painful goodbye. Konstantin kissed him. Even if he dies tomorrow, he'll die knowing what it felt like to be kissed by the man standing before him.

Does he know how much it meant? How much he's going to be thinking about this in the coming days—for the rest of his life, probably? Most likely not. And it should probably stay that way, for both of their sakes'.

'I'll be here to welcome you back.'

Is this how his father had felt when he turned and left the two of them behind? ]

I will. I'll bring you something. Boots, maybe, if I can find them. A souvenir. ...Goodbye, Kostya. Take care of yourself while I'm gone. You have to take it easy. Don't overexert yourself. Promise me that.

[sputnik]

[ Pulling back fully is hard, but he does it, takes that step back, properly letting the younger man go as he listens.

And the words make him smile, despite everything in him feeling heavy, everything reeling from this fresh loss. There's hardly been time to process it. He'll have time once Vasiliy leaves— an aching thought. But he smiles, an expression tugged from his heart (he'll bring him back boots, a souvenir. It's a nice thought.) ]

I promise. Don't worry about me, I'll take good care. Of everything.

[ He means it, eyes dark and deep and genuine as he speaks. Vasiliy doesn't need to spend time and energy fretting over his state. He'll need to take good care of himself— the cabin, the grouse, everything.

Then comes the true finality, the words he doesn't want to say. He almost can't. Never before has it been so difficult to say goodbye to someone. But they come, and he'll watch the other man leave — stay here in the doorframe waiting until his distant silhouette fades. ]

Goodbye, Vasya.

[m1895]

7 DAYS LATER.

[ It's a long, long week—physically grueling, at least until they reach the abandoned resort, even for someone who exercises as frequently as he does. The mine is long and rocky, psychologically exhausting both times he has to trek through it. They trek quite a ways over varying elevation, sleeping outside in the cold, eating jerky and (in Vasiliy's case) things those close to them have packed away for them.

More often than not, he thinks about Kostya. What he's doing, what it had felt like, being held so tightly by the other, feeling his obvious affection however fraternal it may have been. And being kissed by him. Kostya kissed him.

It's terribly lonely, the trip, even with the new presence of a fellow countryman. There is none of their usual idle conversation, nobody waiting for him to come home. He misses Konstantin's smile, his laugh, his easy, relaxed way of talking. He wonders how he's doing, if the creature has been manageable. He sleeps on a bedroll on the hard cold ground and thinks back on what it's been like to sleep on a mattress beside another warm body, what he smells like, the gentle rise and fall of his chest when he's the first to fall asleep.

He does, indeed, find coats and a pair of boots that should fit the other, and cigarettes, and some medical supplies, and—a dog, who is underweight and quite wary of him, but the prior outweighs the latter enough for it to follow him at a distance in the hopes of receiving more food even once they leave the abandoned campsite it's been inhabiting.

He feels positively buoyant when they turn and head back to Milton, knowing what's waiting for him, although there's an edge of anxiety below the surface: what if he comes back and something's happened to him? What if the alien has taken his life, or the Darkwalker, and he didn't know about it? And of course he dreads returning to the dark wet mine, knowing what it will do to him and where it will take him.

He makes it, steeling himself through the raw panic; by the time they emerge on the other side he's exhausted physically and mentally, fatigued after the physical demands of such a prolonged period swimming in heightened adrenaline, cortisol, maintaining a fast, fearful pulse for hours. But he trudges on. Kostya's waiting for him. Their home is waiting for him.

His body all but forgets its tiredness when the cabin comes into view; he picks up the pace through the snow, dog still following behind him, and finally steps up the front steps, backpack over his shoulders, and knocks. ]

[sputnik]

[ The week creeps by, unmercifully slow. Konstantin is used to stretches of empty time — has been specifically trained and prepared for them. Space is a strange place to be in, an environment that one could argue human beings were really never meant to thrive in, much less traverse, probably; one has to learn how to mentally handle the unchanging black. The quiet nothingness. A week, on Earth, should be nothing.

But it's not that. Not this week. Not for him. The absence of Vasiliy is a weight, ever-present inside of him, something felt and carried. Konstantin tries to keep himself busy as much as he can; he tends to the grouse, keeps the small home clean. He has been learning how to cook. He goes into town to seek out company and he does find it, but coming back to an empty cabin afterwards is gutting. The worst part is sleeping alone. Mostly he stays awake until he physically can't anymore, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion, only to stir in the morning to an empty place beside him and find himself aching by the realisation all over again. In his sleep he forgets, so easily, that Vasiliy isn't there. It's so easy to remember him — the shape, the outline, the smell. Existence here has become 'we', and suddenly it isn't, anymore.

And he worries, constantly. Is Vasya safe? In trouble, in pain? So much could go wrong out there in the unknown world. Still, Konstantin holds onto that when, not the if. When he returns. He keeps living as though he will, keeps enough food stocked for two people, keeps Vasiliy's side of the bed clean and neat and his pillow fluffed. Washes Vasiliy's spare clothes, hangs them out to dry and then tucks them into the wardrobe. He takes good care of the man's home, respects it, doesn't even invite guests back here.

One day, there's a knock at the door.

He's in bed, not asleep but resting, as he has to do more of these days. Eyes up to the ceiling, trying not to think and doing it anyway. But when the knock comes— every piece of him freezes, and his heart skips an odd beat. It could be anyone, he tells himself rationally, but he feels like he's keeling over sideways as he gets out of bed and makes his way to the door. It could be anyone. Maybe it's someone coming with news about the expedition. He tries to keep himself calm, but it's a little difficult to breathe.

Then he's opening the door and his eyes are growing wide. ]

Vasiliy.

[ The name comes only split seconds before he's moving forward, not having to think about it for an instant, arms wrapping around the other man. This place plays its tricks, he knows that, but no part of him assumes that's what this is. Openly, without question, he's reaching to find the younger, pulling him into a tight, flush embrace, one hand clapping against his back and then staying there. ]

You're home.

[m1895]

[ When Kostya opens the door he's met with a reflection of his own joy at seeing the other alive, in one piece, waiting for him. A smile spreads from ear-to-ear as he throws himself into the embrace at the same time, squeezing, pressing his fingertips into the other's back and inhaling deeply the smell of him, the smell of his aftershave, savoring the solid warmth of the familiar body against his own. Kostya is here, and he's safe, and happy to see him. ]

Kostya. You're safe. [ You're alive. ]

[ He smiles into the other's shoulder, playful, even now, in a way he isn't around other people. Kostya alone brings this out in him, after a long time the tendency has spent lying dormant. ]

I told you I'd come back, didn't I—

[ I missed you. God, I missed you. ]

[sputnik]

[ It almost doesn't seem real, except the body that's made contact with his own is solid and secure and familiar in all the ways he remembers Vasiliy from so many months spent with him (the way he sounds, smells) — and then the newer way, the last time he'd seen the other man and embraced him for the first time. This is just like that, except— it's a reunion, not a goodbye, and the other man's open happiness to see him is like a surge of adrenaline, a sudden breath of life.

Konstantin's giving a sound like a laugh, some part stunned and some part unbelievably relieved and some part almost overwhelmingly happy. He's.... he's back. He's home, he's alive. God, he's back home.

The older man's beaming, only pulling back enough that he can see Vasiliy, hands staying at his forearms, looking him over. He hasn't noticed the dog trailing behind just yet, every focus of his attention on the other, his heart pounding away. For as much as he'd held onto the concept of hope, no part of him could relax until the other man was home. It's been.....

He's missed him. Maybe more than he's ever missed anything before. There's never been anyone like this, someone so close in this particular way. Someone whose return he's waited for, yearned for. ]

I can't believe you're back. I've been waiting every day for this to happen. Asking every day in town if there's been any news.

[ His palms give those forearms a firm, affectionate pat, and then another, and then a warm squeeze. ]

Let me look at you. Are you— [ There's so much to ask; where does he begin? With the concern— ] Are you all right, Vasya?

[m1895]

[ All of that, for him. It's a thought that sends a dizzying rush through him, like he's not already thrilled enough as it stands. The thought that this person specifically cares so deeply for him, that was able to occupy his thoughts so consistently, that Konstantin had asked after the expedition and waited for him and felt his absence, it's enough to make him positively giddy. He's important to someone like Konstantin, maybe even as important as Konstantin is to him; the friendship is mutual, even if the feelings blended in with it aren't.

And God, is he aware of them right now—standing face-to-face, looking up into deep brown eyes as Konstantin's warm hands squeeze his forearms, he's overwhelmed by how badly he wants to kiss him, how close they are, how easy it would be to just raise himself on the balls of his feet and lean in. Again he remembers what his lips had felt like on the skin of his cheek when he kissed him goodbye; his eyes pause on the other's mouth for half a second, barely perceptible and innocuous enough, before they return to holding his gaze. It's a slip, one he's not usually the kind to make, but he's just—happy. Very, very happy, even here, even in this frozen hell. ]

I'm fine. I'm okay. Have you... have you been alright? The alien? You've been eating?

[sputnik]

[ The question can't possibly convey an ounce of what's behind it — were you hurt? did anything happen? what did you find, was it okay, are you lucky to be alive now? There's a flood of questions within the simple one, but for this moment, it's enough just to know that he's alive, that's all right in that once sense.

Konstantin's clasping Vasiliy's shoulders again, grinning wide and bright, nodding quickly in affirmation. ]

I'm okay. It's okay — eating with no problems. [ There are smaller upsets beneath the surface reply; something's been happening during the Auroras, pain that neither he nor the creature seem able to escape from for the duration of those nights, but he'll bring it up later. It's not important now, nothing else is; Vasiliy's home. ]

You have to come in and warm up, tell me everything. I'll fix you some tea— [ He's pushing back against the door with an elbow when he pauses, finally spotting it in his peripheral, hovering some feet away. A dog.... the domesticated kind, not something wild and wolflike, but clearly having seen better days. Konstantin's eyebrows lift as he finally allows his eyes to leave Vasiliy's face and look at the dog; now he can see the trail of footprints out in the snow following along after the human pair. It came back with him? ]

I think you have an admirer.

[m1895]

Yes!

[ Vasiliy brightens, his attention at last pulled away from the man he’s wanted so desperately to see for what feels like so long. ] Mukhtar. [ Like the dog in the famous movie, a reference he doesn’t have to explain—what a relief it is, to be in Kostya's company again. ]

We found a sort of resort village on the other side of the mines. Dachas around a lake. He was wandering around looking for food... I thought we could use a dog so I started giving him some every day and he followed me back, all the way to Milton.

[ He steps inside, savoring the warmth of the wood stove even from the other side of the room, and joins Konstantin in looking out the front door at the dog who stands watching them from some fifteen feet away, tail low and warily swinging from side to side. ]

I'm going to train him to stand guard.

[sputnik]

Mukhtar! [ There's a delighted laugh at that as he looks the dog over again — the poor thing must have belonged to a resident, left behind when... everyone died. (Killed?) He still doesn't quite understand what caused the original inhabitants of this place to suddenly die, but the fact that Vasiliy's group found evidence of more people out there is the main takeaway, and he's quickly latching onto that tidbit of information, brows lifting as he welcomes the younger man back inside. ]

What a great idea, Vasya — it'll be good to have a dog around. Maybe he can alert us to danger, keep the grouse safe.

[ He has utmost confidence in Vasiliy's thought to train the dog, surely nothing will go wrong....! And it's an exciting prospect too; he's never owned a dog. ]

Here, I'll take your things, your coat—

[ While they stand there, Konstantin's busying himself to help properly welcome his housemate in, reaching to take his bags and set aside for him or help peel off his coat. A plethora of questions about the expedition are bubbling, but for the immediate moment, it's about getting Vasiliy in, warmed, safe. He's safe. ]

How's his disposition? Does he seem friendly?

[m1895]

[ He glows at the recognition, at the fact that Konstantin is just as excited about this as he is. In all likelihood, he'll help, and then they'll have a dog to guard the shared home—

Oh. It occurs to him, in this moment, for the first time, that he thinks of the cabin as theirs, not his with a guest inhabitant, like they’re a couple—a thought he brushes to the side a moment later. Property doesn't have much meaning here; they are two Communists living in a largely communist society. It would be no different if they were roommates jointly renting in America, no matter how much he wants it to be more meaningful than that—no matter how much it feels like more than that.

Vasiliy tosses some remaining jerky into the snow before taking off his coat and watches the dog skulk forward, head low and ears erect, then dart forward, snatch up the strips in his mouth, and trot back to what he seems to feel is a safe distance, leaning over the food as he eats, as though to guard it with his body. ]

He's wary of people. Something bad happened to him. But he knows that I feed him. He's smart. And he followed me all the way back... he's already loyal. He's a good worker.

[ He doesn't mention the little incident in which the dog bristled and flashed teeth at him when he tried to approach to offer him another piece of jerky while he was eating the first, some few days ago. ]

I brought you something.

[ Once the door is shut and he's come to stand in the living room, Vasiliy sets his pack down on the table and roots through it, setting down packs of cigarettes and bottles of medication as he removes them. And then, something bigger—a coat, extended out for him to take, and a pair of leather boots. ]

I think they should fit. I had to guess.

[sputnik]

[ Konstantin watches the dog move towards the treat, a sympathetic frown tugging at his mouth. ] Poor thing. I'm sure he'll be glad to have people around again. He was probably hoping for a new owner; he'll warm up to us soon.

[ Surely he'll get used to them in little time! Dogs crave companionship, right? The image of the creature accompanying him on walks to town and guarding Vasiliy as he works outside comes to mind... Konstantin has a very optimistic view, here.

Once they're properly inside, he's moving to Vasiliy's side, brows lifting with a curious smile as he watches the other man sort through what he'd brought back. Cigarettes — Vasya probably wept with joy when he found those — and medicine; it's a relief to see. Maybe this means the people here could make more supply runs, acquire more resources from the other place they'd found.

But then Vasya's handing him something, and Konstantin's eyes widen with a flicker of visible surprise that's quickly turning into pure delight. A coat and boots...! He wasn't expecting that, and he's grinning wide and white as he holds up the coat. ]

Vasya! You're incredible!

[ He's going to go ahead and try it on because of course he is, sliding his arms through the holes and grinning the whole while, straightening it out and standing there proudly in the thing. ]

How's it look? It fits perfectly.

[ Maybe it's no surprise that Vasiliy could estimate his size well enough; they've been living together for months, now. But it's still... striking, in its way, a little pinprick thought that blossoms warmly; Vasiliy not only thought of him, but knows him well enough to bring him things that fit. The boots also look to be about his size, and he's holding them up, turning them around to look them over. New clothes... And these will be so much more efficient here than the sneakers issued to him by the facility. ]

Ahhhh, it's been so long since I've been shopping. You've made me very happy, my friend. Thank you!

[ And he's going to move right in for another bear hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Vasiliy again to squeeze him. ]

[m1895]

[ He wants to live in the moment forever, watching Kostya smile, sharing his joy, knowing that he's the reason for it. The new things are even better received than he thought they would be, and they do fit, they fit like a glove.

'How's it look?' he asks, as though he's not aware of the fact that anything would look good on someone like him, and Vasiliy can't help but to smile back and offer, ]

Very handsome. It was made for you.

[ And then, unexpectedly, Kostya catches him in another hug, a tight embrace that engulfs him in the warmth and strength of his body, the familiar smell he missed so desperately—his hair, his aftershave, his clothes. His heart races, feels like it's going to burst, warmth rushing through him and gathering in his face. He'd do anything if he knew this was going to be the result. He'd go back out there and walk all the way to lakeside and back in the snow if he knew it would lead to this again.

He hugs him back and, in what is perhaps a moment of weakness, a little bleed of what he's been trying to keep contained, though probably innocuous to the other— ]

I'm so glad. I've missed you.

[sputnik]

[ The assessment — compliment — visibly warms him, like sunlight filtering through cracks in the window blinds as it lifts into the sky. Konstantin's pleased, flattered, happy, all slightly different emotions on their own, but collectively forming one state that's almost too much for him to take. He knows at the root of everything making him feel this way is the fact that Vasya's home and safe. He can't remember ever feeling this relieved, this happy.

It's all-too natural to hug him, he wants to again and again, and he's giving the other man another affectionate, full-bodied squeeze as the words come.

'I've missed you.'

Nothing changes in Konstantin's body language; there's nothing perceptible. It's only something on the inside that flutters, strange and— not unpleasant, not that, but.... something that flinches. Only a little, and not away from Vasiliy. Away from something else, some part of himself.

He's never.... missed anything so much that he would fight to get it back. Even Aleksei—.... he doesn't miss the boy; he never even met him. Fighting to get him back comes from a place of... obligation. Of guilt. There's never been anything that's his outside of a role and a title.

Except this. Maybe this. For as long as it lasts, this necessary little cabin, this necessary safety and stability, but none of it matters without Vasiliy, who feels like so much more than just necessary. He's— his friend. His only real friend. Konstantin knows he would fight to keep him.

...It's scary, up under everything, for a man who's never allowed himself to become attached. Frightening to admit it. He can't remember ever saying the words before. ]

I've missed you, too.

[ It comes softer, not quite subdued, just— softer. He stays there for a moment before he pulls back, enough to look at him, hands staying clasped on Vasiliy's forearms. Yes, he'd fight to keep him. ]

I'm glad you're home. It hasn't been... It's not the same without you.

[m1895]

[ Kostya missed him, too. His heart beats faster, again, as Konstantin regards him after telling him this, saying (almost) everything he wants to hear. God, he wants to kiss him, and he can only hope that Konstantin doesn't pick up on it, carefully and deliberately keeping his eyes on the other's and nowhere else as a more subtle smile ghosts across his lips. ]

The whole time at camp I kept wondering what you were up to. How the farm was doing, if I'd chopped enough logs to keep the fire going until I got back. But I knew you'd be able to hold it all down. You did.

This place has made a farmer of you, Konstantin Veshnyakov.

[sputnik]

[ Konstantin grins at that, giving Vasiliy's forearms another warm squeeze and subsequent pat before he releases him again, takes a step back and towards the sofa, ushering him to Come, come, sit. ]

I won't pretend that it's been a walk in the park. I think we run much better as a two-man operation.

[ He's peeling the jacket off to drape carefully over one arm of the sofa; he'll hang it up properly soon, but for now he wants to give Vasiliy his focus. And it's nice and warm by the fireplace; he settles into his seat, turned to face him. ]

But I kept busy learning some new things. I found a field guide at the library — for things like foraging. And I've been learning how to ice fish. Maybe now I can actually fix something for dinner that isn't just old beans from a can.