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

[goingtobeunwell]

“I never said I was loyal to the empire.” How could he possibly loyal to an institution that sent over a hundred men to their deaths? How could he claim fealty after inspecting the bodies of that innocent Netsilik family? That old woman, the young girl? “And it isn’t my place to forgive.”

He pours a little water into his hair, wiping soap from his forehead before it can trickle down to Raju’s eyes.

“You don’t sound like a man who tortures for Queen and country.”

He lets the words hang between them. Raju risked life and limb for him once. He thinks back to the times they laughed and muddled over the mysteries of this place together, how they’ve shed tears in front of each other.

Raju is not a cruel man, he knows this deep within his marrow.

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju blinks instinctively as the soap trickles down toward his eyes, but it doesn't come. He feels Francis' hand wiping at his forehead instead. It's odd to feel it, the gesture, the wellbeing that spreads out from it, and at the same time be talking about this, thinking about this. Thinking about saying this.

It's a leading statement. Trying to lead Raju into places that he hasn't gone. He looks up at Francis. His eyes, instinctively, try to blink away stinging that isn't there. "I..."

His heart is beating harder, suddenly. His breaths are deeper. "I-I, um..."

Francis had let the words hang in the air and they stay there, trying to light up parts of him that Raju doesn't have the key to. The people at home all know, and if any of them are going to stay alive, no one else can. So Raju has never needed to explain to anyone. It's a good thing that he doesn't. Easier. Until now. Odd, to reach for something that he knows is there, and realise that it won't come.

His chest is tight. He takes a slow breath and moves his gaze away, lips pressed tight with failure, disappointment over his face, and he sighs the breath back out. Another breath, in and held and out again, and the inside of him starts to relax, a little like winding down after a run. His shoulders slump.

"I feel like one," he says, voice low, then looks up at Francis again, holding his gaze. "Sometimes." That pause between is as close as he can come to it, tracing part of a shape without being able to draw the rest. Sometimes. The first part, nothing he'd every say in front of his uncle, or anyone waiting at home. The last, nothing he'd ever say where any of the other officers can hear. Together, they still aren't enough to answer this man in the way that... that Raju finds he wants to. But even if Francis doesn't know what it is that connects those two separate parts of Raju, he knows about both of them, and he's still here. It's his legs under Raju's head. His hand in Raju's hair. He's here.

"If it isn't... forgiveness. Then why?"

[goingtobeunwell]

It's a leading statement, yes, but not one that he'll needle and push. Raju's having a tough enough time as it is just being without Crozier trying to dig the truth out of him. But he knows there is a truth there, one that Raju seems desperate to hide away within himself.

He's Fitzjames, he realizes. He's James Fitzjames, and there's some sort of closely-guarded secret or past. Perhaps Raju had been betrayed before, hurt, or maybe he's just protecting a part of him that's fragile or secretive in its very nature. But this realization that Raju, courageous and impossible Raju, is more like the very noble and heroic James Fitzjames, who would throw himself into a river to save a drowning man without a single thought, who would cross the desert on foot just because he could, makes him feel a certain kind of way that he refuses to name.

And with that, he sees another facet, another angle, to his friend that he had not considered. He's a man in deep, deep grief.

"Then why?" he wonders, reaching for the brush to work on his freshly-washed hair. "As though anything is that simple. There's so much I don't know, how could I possibly judge? Even if I find it distasteful, there are things I've done that I find unforgivable."

[load_aim_shoot]

The last words echo in Raju's head. One of the things he'd used to think about sometimes, late at night or on the brisk walk between sleeping quarters and the training room, in moments when he couldn't keep away the worry and the fear, had been going home and telling all, shattering everyone's distant, desperate ideas about this heroic, noble thing that he'd left them so long to do, and knowing that either no one there would ever forgive him— or they would. Or maybe they would. Maybe they wouldn't think anything of it, it wouldn't be difficult for them at all. Maybe they would hear it and dismiss it, wave everything he's done away. The possibility, the strong possibility, should have been a relief. It'd sat heavy in Raju's stomach, in his chest, until he'd managed to stop thinking. He feels Francis' words about himself ringing in there now.

Raju opens his mouth to answer, find some kind of way to say so, then feels a brush moving through his hair. His eyes try to close again and he blinks them open, feeling a long, slow breath escape out of his mouth instead of words. His hand reaches up, misses its goal on the first try, then takes a hold of something that feels like a knee. He shifts the angle of his head to help him see Francis' hand too and the brush in it, all of the parts of him too relaxed to think of or mind how the movement might disturb Francis' brushing. Most of the parts of him. There's a clumsy heaviness to his movement and his limbs that has nothing to do with soreness or strain, a quiet, cool feeling settled beneath and around all of his thoughts, and something rushing to a point somewhere, the things that he's felt in listening to this man, in knowing him.

"Me too," he tries, voice deeper, rasping. It's hard to find the words to explain it, but he needs Francis to know. It'd been inside him in that first dark night in this place, Francis on the floor near where he is now and speaking of terrible things, but it hadn't come out. He tries again. His free hand curls into a fist against his thigh and the grip on Francis' knee tightens, his expression relief rushing into an intent, unwavering gaze, and his tone is grateful. "It doesn't go away. The things we've done. That you've done. I know what it feels like, too."

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier’s breath hitches in his throat as Raju grasps blindly for just something to hold on to, something real as he struggles within himself. He nods softly. It’s a brotherhood forged in difficult, impossible choices and horrible mistakes.

He sets the brush down so he can gently cup Raju’s upside down face. “Not just metaphorical ghosts, mn? Being haunted…it isn’t an easy thing to bear.”

His thumb brushes along Raju’s cheek.

“But we learn to live with it, as best we’re able.”

[load_aim_shoot]

A hand is cupping the side of Raju's face, warm and secure and holding him there, and Raju's eyes try to close again. A thumb moves over Raju's cheek and he finds his mouth letting out a long, slow breath, the arm on Francis' knee feeling that ache running from his wrist down his side shifting as the arm sags, relaxing.

He doesn't look away from Francis' face. It seems impossible that this man, so tender and kind now around him, can feel the same way that Raju does. Can know the way it sits inside, the things that don't go away. But he does. And he cares, still. And he's here, doing these things, in a way no one has ever done.

Learn to live with it. As best we're able. Francis knows exactly what that means. Raju gives a single, decisive nod, feeling the hand large and warm against his face, looking into Francis' eyes. He remembers sinking down to sit with laughter ringing in his ears, the end of all of it moving already through his veins, and feeling... grateful. It had torn at his throat last night remembering it, that feeling. It was failure that brought him to this place at all, failure that brought him to his knees last night, but he finds that he feels grateful now. The feeling sits differently in him than it did before. Warmer.

"And we go on." His grip tightens on Francis' knee. It's harder to do with everything in him wanting to relax like this but it's worth doing, to feel it. For Francis to feel it. "We keep going."

[goingtobeunwell]

“And we go on,” he smiles, warm yet still tinged with his typical melancholy. To do anything else would be a disservice to the ones they outlived, which has been a difficult lesson for Crozier to learn. He’s still learning, in fact. How much goodness does a man deserve after failing the amount he has, losing the number of people he did? How much of a happy life does he get to have knowing how much suffering his decisions wrought on others?

His answer might still be none if it weren’t for the warmth of Raju’s eyes and overwhelming need to soothe whatever ails him. He wants to care for people again; his men, the people here, Raju. He’s still terrified of losing and so ashamed of his failures, but his heart wants what it wants.

He smooths his thumb once more down Raju’s cheek and over the ever-so-slight scruff of his beard. Not enough scruff to look unkempt, of course, Raju would never let it get that bad.

“It’s never easy to share the shameful parts of us. Thank you for trusting me.”

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju takes a moment to digest the idea, that that’s what he’s done, that it’s something worth thanking him for. He still feels Francis’ thumb brushing over his cheek, an awareness tickling very faintly in the skin there in the seconds after it’s finished moving.

“If you’re thanking me for it, you did it first.” Raju’s voice is still rough but quieter now, the clean, cared-for feeling in his hair, the solidity under his head and against his face, that emptied out feeling giving him nothing to set any of it on top of, all dragging the words into a murmur. If he moves his head he might move Francis’ hand off of his face, and he doesn’t want to; he breaks his upward gaze only with his eyes instead, looking around the room and trying to match it up to the memory of nothing else existing in the world, only the moonlight drifting in through the windows and the man beneath him and the dark. And once Raju had finally managed the fire, relative to where he can see the walls and fireplace…

“Just there.” He keeps his nod small. “Near where my knees are now. I don’t know why I told you. At first I wanted to make you leave, but after that…”

He does turn his head now, into Francis’ hand instead of away, feeling the breath that flows out of his mouth against it reflecting off Francis’ skin back onto Raju’s face. “Of course I trust you. How could I do anything else?”

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier follows Raju’s gaze to find that specific place on the floor, the specific memory so fresh that he can nearly picture their shadows still etched onto the floor.

Raju can’t see why his friend would need to thank him, but that isn’t surprising. He can’t see how much he’s closed himself off to the world and how much he hides himself, but there’s no hiding it from Crozier. It’s easy to recognize common traits.

“You could have kept turning me away, but I’m stubborn.” He smiles softly, looking down at Raju’s cheek in his hand. He inhales slowly —- he should let him tend to his own hair now, even if he hates the thought of moving him off of his lap. The warmth is lovely, he tells himself, the intimacy with another person and the camaraderie making him feel more alive than he has in a very long time.

“If I give you the comb can you handle the rest yourself?”

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mm." It's a soft noise and Raju takes a slow breath right after, bracing himself. In, the smell of soot lingering, this close to Francis' skin. Then out, breathing against his hand. Then he gives a decisive nod and rolls to lean on his forearm, a grimace at the movement flickering over his face. His head hangs, no matter how the muscles in his neck complain. He feels heavy, his body still soaked in the relaxation that'd cradled him a moment ago. Feeling like that, he isn't going to be able to do this gradually; he pushes himself up to sitting hard and all at once.

The grimace comes back and fights him as he leans back against his hand, letting his head tilt back toward the ceiling and then rolling it around his shoulder forward. He feels the movement down his back. He takes a breath and sighs it back out, then looks into Francis' face again with a warm, tired smile, free hand moving to the back of his neck absently. "Thank you. At least one part of me feels clean, now. After I finish with the comb, do you want me to..."

He nods toward the cloth and the soap and the meltwater, used once but only on his hair, so still probably clean enough, then moves his gaze meaningfully to Francis' head. "For your hair?"

But then— The question had felt natural when it'd been coming out of his mouth, something he might offer to Seetha, or... or to family, in another life. Who else would have done something like that for Raju? But outside that Raju doesn't know the rules for this, does he, what the expectations are. Uncertainty takes over Raju's expression as he looks back to Francis' face and Raju takes it back with a polite, friendly smile, free hand sliding down to his lap and thumb rubbing circles against the side of his finger.

"Or would you rather wash yourself all at once, later? Now that we're rested you'll have plenty of time to."

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier is even less sure of the rules or expectations. Realizing that he was the one who pushed this boundary first, he should be the one to politely decline the very enjoyable-sound request. Because honestly, it’s been a long time since he’s been cared for just for the sake of it.

But decline he must, because he’s the one who should be caring for Raju, and not the other way around. He smiles gently and shakes his head. “I’ll bathe later.”

And by himself, without the kind and patient touch of a man who isn’t repulsed by him, as it should be.

“You need to lie yourself back down and let me finish cooking.” He can insist on this much, he can turn his attention back to being the caretaker and not the center of attention.

[load_aim_shoot]

“Mm.” Raju shakes his head and leans slowly forward, testing the feeling of sitting this way, with his forearms over his thighs taking his weight. This position probably won’t be very comfortable for long either, a part of Raju’s mind thinks absently, while another part of him thinks: of course he was only being kind. It wasn’t…

Wasn’t what? He doesn’t know what word to use for it. Francis doesn’t want it, whatever it is. Raju had only asked because their conversation had still been moving through his head, and feeling the echoes of Francis’ touch over his face and his hair, and the relaxation heavy and floating through him, he hadn’t been thinking. One hand moves up to rub clumsily over the side of his face and his brow. He’ll finish waking up soon, then his thinking will be more clear.

At least there’s one thing that he still knows. “If I lie down now I’ll fall back asleep. Oh— the comb,” he remembers as clumsy fingers brush against his damp hair, and looks up to look around for it. “Where…”

[goingtobeunwell]

The comb’s been placed down by Crozier’s legs somewhere, and he pats around the furs and the floor until his hand brushes against it. He holds it out to Raju. “After you eat in that case. More sleep couldn’t hurt.”

And then after he finished his chores for the day, checking a nearby trap and gathering a little more to eat, melting some snow, gathering firewood, perhaps he could just curl back underneath the furs and enjoy a little more warmth and a few more lazy hours dozing. He wouldn’t normally indulge, except —-

Well.

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mm." This time the noise sounds distinctly doubtful. He takes the comb and sits up perfectly straight, unconsciously, as he uses it, frowning as his other hand feels his hair. He's used to a mirror for this, but he'll do his best. The movements of his hands are very practised but slow and careful, aware as he is of how heavy they feel, how much he'd like to let his arms drop and lay back down. Every movement is precise, important. It puts parts of him back in order. "I don't like to waste the day. It's already late enough, isn't it? And, um—"

His gaze focuses to frown over at the food Francis had been about to make, the pan he'd put at the fire. Francis is doing it for Raju as much as for himself, has said he wants Raju to eat so that he'll heal. He remembers Francis' shoulder solid underneath his head, his hand over Raju's hair more than once, and on his face. He doesn't want Francis to feel badly if the meal doesn't go the way he wants it to. "I might not eat much anyway. I don't know how it'll sit."

He looks from the food to Francis' eyes and shrugs, deliberately casual, before his gaze unfocuses so he can pay proper attention to his hair. And so he can assess himself, the way that he feels. Everything all emptied and strange emotions, unknowable thoughts, happening somewhere at the edges of him, just out of reach. A tether pulling his awareness toward the man in front of him, exhaustion and his will a set of strong walls constructed around it to keep the exhaustion at bay, a feeling of fraying edges being carefully cleaned and cared for. He considers the way he'd felt when he'd woken up, and the way that he feels now.

"Maybe a little better now than it would have be— before." The yawn he'd held off at that last word comes back and he tries to cut it off before it's done, speaking around it as his hands slow, focus too divided for a moment to be trusted with precise movement. "But I don't want you to waste too much food."

[goingtobeunwell]

“It’ll keep,” Crozier replies simply. Whether Raju wants to eat now or worry at his sore muscles instead, the food will keep.

He shuffles his way back to the fireplace and pulls a crate as a makeshift chair while he ‘cooks’, or in this case throwing some crudely-cut, cubed root vegetables into the pan to fry up like a hash. He found some salt and the remains of a pepper shaker in a home and almost greedily grabbed them up — he’s grateful every day for the Netsilik and the care they showed him, but salt! Seasoning. A real cooked meal. It wasn’t often that he thought of food - whiskey, always, that nagging little voice in the back of his head - but when he did it was something crisp and salty. He’s sure Raju would like something with seasoning for a change, even if it doesn’t come close to the food he’s used to at home.

“There’s really not much to be done anyway,” he adds a moment later. Raju is a man who likes to be kept busy; he can’t exactly blame him there. Resting is a chore in itself. “I’ll gather more wood for the fire, a little more snow, and be done with it.”

He pauses, then glances away from the fire, locking eyes with the other man in what he hopes will ring significant to his friend. “The day isn’t wasted if it’s for your health.”

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Raju's hands pause again as Francis locks eyes with him. Then Raju snorts and looks away, smile faint and then fading. "I didn't even do anything. Just talked at you for a while and then went to sleep. My health should be just fine. I didn't even feel my damned feet."

Mentioning them makes what he feels from them now harder to ignore and he shifts his legs around, grimacing a little and huffing out a sigh as he glances down at them. He looks ahead again and focuses on his hands, on keeping their movement steady and controlled, their effect precise. Once he finishes it'll be harder to tell how he's done without a mirror, but feeling at it will have to be enough. It isn't really worth leaving this room, warm with a man in it who cares enough for Raju to cook for him, just to go and make sure of something he's already practised doing thousands of times. Maybe he'll get up and look once Francis goes to get firewood.

"And the wood could take you a while. Unless you don't mind it more damp. Even the old wood in this place is covered in all that blasted snow."

[goingtobeunwell]

“I’ve a store of dried firewood in the back, I just like to keep my supply up in case of catastrophic storms or wild animal maulings.”

Or lights in the sky that drive friends half-mad with grief that’s only half their own.

He flips the vegetables with a flick of the pan and throws in a little salt, because he can, damn it all.

“I’m tired,” he suddenly adds. He shakes his hand and sits forward, rubbing at aching knees. “I’d hoped that if you slept then I could lie down without guilt.”

Maybe this angle might work. Raju wouldn’t be so horrible as to deny a man his sleep, would he?

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Raju looks up from what Francis had been putting in the pan, looking surprised and, as his hands lower toward his lap again, a little ashamed, frowning as he watches Francis rubbing at his knees. Francis hadn’t wanted much attention on the problem of his aches earlier, had he? Some older men are that way. Raju’d seen it in some who’d been grown and training beside him when he himself had been a boy and who had grown older and slower and more pained and all the while insisting they would still be able to hold a gun and fight, when the time came. Needing more sleep than you used to need is probably the same as that, and as the aches. If Raju keeps moving and pushing forward maybe all the things happening inside him will sort themselves out while he’s busy, but he hadn’t intended to take away Francis’ excuse and make him admit it.

“Guilt over what?” Raju spins the comb back and forth in his hand, his smile small, fond and hopefully encouraging. “If your firewood is just out there I can get it for you. And the snow for melting. You won’t be leaving anything undone if you lie down now.”

[goingtobeunwell]

Ah, damn him, he should have expected that Raju would meet a personal humiliation with generosity. He’s playing chess instead of checkers and didn’t even know it.

He returns the fond smile with something soft and amused. “Ah, I couldn’t possibly, especially knowing you were on those feet. No, no, I’ll get it done and then perhaps I can convince you to lie back down with me.”

If there’s something to read into there he doesn’t hint it - in fact, he barely even thinks it. It’s an innocent offer after all.

Another flip of the handle, a slight sizzle as he adds in a little lard from a jar he’d found in an abandoned pantry. Rabbit’s too lean for much fat, but a jar of grease apparently’ll do the trick nicely.

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Raju's warm smile widens a little, and he blows out a soft breath. Being asked to rest this many times reminds him of home, of when he'd been young and still when he'd been older, teaching himself everything he was going to need taking more precedence than Seetha had been happy with sometimes, even though she understood why things had to be the way they were. She'd understood better than anyone. But there's nothing to stay awake for, now, nothing outside of himself, and Francis needs to sleep, too. Maybe Raju can lie down until Francis falls asleep, and if he's still restless, figure something out after.

The pause in the movement of the pan as Francis' hand adds something from a jar distracts Raju from thinking more about it. Any cooking more extensive than 'put it over a fire until it's edible' seems rare in this place, or at least it is for him. If he's honest, that part isn't much different than things had been before. But this being something elaborate from someone who isn't him is new and Raju leans forward to see it, then scoots himself closer to get a better look, grimacing at the movement but wanting to see too much to stay in one place.

"That was salt earlier, wasn't it?" he guesses. "And now..."

He watches it sizzling in the pan, then tries to peer into the jar it'd come from. " That isn't ghee, is it. Wha—"

He has to pause for a long yawn against the back of his hand, then starts again with a quiet, annoyed noise at having had to wait. The question isn't important, he knows it isn't important, but there's something about how unimportant it is, how normal it feels in the wake of everything to sit here near to this man asking him questions about nothing at all. "What is that?"

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“You’re changing the subject,” he teases, but readily pushes the jar closer to him to inspect. “Lard, tallow. Some sort of rendered animal fat. Not entirely what sort of animal, but if I’d had to guess I’d say pig?”

He pushes around the roots to rid them of that remaining starch, then switches the pan handle for a spoon and scoops up enough for a little taste. He holds out the spoon to Raju, eyebrow lifting in a silent question. It’s not much, but maybe it’ll taste halfway decent?

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Raju looks surprised for a moment, then obviously unsure what exactly to do with the food now that it's been offered. He starts to lean forward, but Francis only has the one spoon, doesn't he? That would get it dirty. He leans back, picking something out from the spoon instead with the tips of his fingers and then pausing while he chews.

He makes an appreciative noise, then another one, then laughs at himself, the side of his hand covering his mouth. "I've never been this excited over just salt and fat. Is this what the English feel like when they eat? Ah—"

It's a little too late to catch the insult to Francis' cooking implied there before it comes out and Raju's eyes curve with his smile, looking caught out and amused at it. Strange, how easy it is just now to smile this way. "But your cooking is wonderful, of course. Thank you."

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Crozier snorts a laugh through his nose. There’s no part of him is offended by this very true condemnation of English cooking, and Raju’s amusement at it is almost beatific. “No need for flattery, my cooking is passable.”

But he is endeared by the smile, the quick laugh and the hand to his mouth, the joy at something so simple. If passable food is the cause he won’t mind a few more slights or having to figure out how to make what he cooks halfway decent.

He switches the spoon for the handle of the pan once more to finish off their little indulgent meal. Fat, salt, a little pepper, something hot - it’s a veritable feast in comparison to cold rabbit or raw leaves, but it’s certainly not good.

A few moments later and he’s removing the pan from the fire altogether, setting it down between himself and Raju on a frayed rug on the floor. “I have a spoon and a fork, which would you like? Or we could eat with our hands.” Because why the pretense?

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Raju watches him finish the cooking, paying attention too to the way the little taste he’d gotten of it feels now that he’s swallowed. It’s almost too small to tell anything, but he’d been honest when he’d said that sick feeling in his stomach, a little stronger than usual when he’d first woken up, feels a little better now than it had.

It should be alright, he’s deciding, when Francis sets the pan down between them and asks how Raju would like to eat it. Besides, he really is excited at the chance to eat food that tastes of more than just itself. Even in those early days living on his own in Deli, he’d still sometimes used salt. Not so, since he woke up in Milton.

He looks at Francis, smiling a little, considering. Then he leans over, smile overtaken for a moment by a grimace and a quiet, pained noise as he reaches for the water Francis had used for his hair and picks it up, setting it beside them. There’s a little soap in it, but that should make their hands even cleaner in it, won’t it? It’ll do.

Raju settles himself again in front of the pan and feels… But he doesn’t need to put a word to it, does he? He’s done enough of that already. He can enjoy the meal, the man in front of him, the moment. So he does. The little smile comes back. Raju aims the look at Francis for a moment, watching him, then dips his hand in the water to wash it off and quickly flicks all the excess at Francis’ face, looking down at the pan afterward and holding his hand near to its side to feel the temperature. If they’re eating with their hands it probably isn’t cool enough to touch it yet.

“Fat probably can’t keep very long, can it?” he asks as if he hasn’t done anything unusual at all, gaze down at the pan and smile lingering. “Or does the cold here keep it good longer? That must have come from whoever lived here before, if you aren’t sure what it’s made from.”

[goingtobeunwell]

His hand extends as Raju lets out that small, pained noise, but drops it when he rights himself. He hates that his friend is suffering, but he hadn’t been insistent on his care without good reason. In this place a minor injury can turn into a major one at the drop of a hat.

He’s glad he’s at least trying to eat, even if it’s only to get the nagging to stop. He’s patient as he waits for his turn to wash up, looking down at the meager meal they’re about to share and imagining having something like it on King William Island. His mind drifts a little, but he’s quickly pulled back to reality when he feels the flick of water on his face.

Crozier stares back at Raju and the feigned innocence on his face and finds himself laughing under his breath in surprise and a little embarrassment. Not the bad kind this time, but the good sort of embarrassed that can leave a man flustered.

“Oh, a lot of things can keep for years if stored properly,” he says, casually dipping his right hand into the water and scrubbing in the awkward way he’s invented since losing the left. “But the cold always helps a great deal.”