singillatim | the steps of survival

Entry tags:

the steps of survival — ota

Who: La'an Noonien-Singh + whomever wants cr pre-event
What: Patrolling, corpse disposal, investigating, supplies
When: September; days before the event + non-event things
Where: Around Milton

Content Warnings: La'an's warnings, corpses, + TBA

step 1: recognize the situation ( open to ~~1 person~~ dr_unconscious )

[ This isn't the first time La'an Noonien-Singh has been trapped somewhere against her will. Really, she supposes she should count herself lucky that the frozen landscape means this can't possibly be the work of the Gorn — the cold-blooded lizards avoid the cold and would never choose this place as a hunting ground. Of course, if it were the Gorn, she would at least have some idea of how to handle everything, whereas all of this is... beyond her.

She isn't a scientist. She can't even begin to guess what the atmospheric phenomenon might be and whether it is the cause behind the damaged electronics or their presence here. But she can still gather information and put together pieces as she's able, and perhaps someone here will be able to take it further than her. Working in Starfleet has taught her to rely on the strengths of others as much as her own, so she just has to hope that someone here will be able to further connect the dots.

To that end, she continues searching through the homes that haven't been claimed by other unwilling residents. With a foraged notebook in hand, she documents the state of each home, what was taken and left behind, and what she can tell of the former residents. And whenever she finds a journal of one of those residents, she clears a space at the kitchen table and settles in to read, paying close attention to the final days recorded in 2014 as the town's situation worsened. ]

step 2: establish priorities ( open to all )

[ Patrolling the perimeter of the town feels natural to La'an. Bundled up against the cold (though not as much as she really should be) with a red scarf standing out against all the black, she does her best to ignore the elements while focusing on the familiar. Walking the hallways of the Enterprise is one of her many duties aboard ship, checking in at different locations to ensure everything is working smoothly and there are no issues in need of her attention. She may not have a team to check in with here, but she still has a self-appointed mission to keep these people safe for as long as they're trapped here, which isn't something she's going to shirk.

So she walks. In the morning, at midday, and when night falls, she walks along the edge of the town, keeping watch for any of the predators she'd heard while traveling here, or for signs of anyone in need of help. ]

step 3: inventory supplies ( open to ~~1 person~~ moralabsolutism )

[ It's been days since her arrival and La'an has yet to explore the town's grocery store. Her attention has been devoted to uncovering details of what happened in Milton and how they were brought here, but as she accepts that answers might not be as forthcoming as she would like, she's going to have to take stock of what they have available to them.

There's an almost ominous feeling as she steps into the building, the large room quiet and devoid of life. It's been years since she even set foot in a place like this, which makes it all the more unsettling, but in she goes, choosing an aisle at random, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket as her footsteps almost echo through the silence. ]

step 4: stay calm ( closed to fidior )

[ After finding the initial bodies in her first days in Milton, it has become increasingly apparent that there are too many to leave untended. These were once people, so of course they deserve to be laid to rest in some appropriate manner, but more than that, bodies decay. La'an can still vividly recall the smell of rotting remains on the Gorn planet, the stench mixing with the sheer terror of fighting for survival to create a memory that will be forever seared into her memory. And since she very much doubts that many of the people here have enough experience with death to stomach what needs to be done, she takes it upon herself, at first taking care of the corpses found in the houses she visits to investigate left-behind belongings, and then purposefully searching other locations for any missed remains.

Moving the bodies is anything but easy. The ones out exposed to the elements are frozen solid, and the ones found indoors in unheated areas aren't much different. But it's the ones in warming areas that worry La'an most — enough time has passed since the time of death that rigor mortis has disappeared and decomposition has begun. This is a dangerous time for the living, especially when they barely even have the most basic archaeological medicine to rely on.

The churchyard is her destination with the latest body. Using an old shower curtain, she wraps the heavy fabric around the corpse of an older man and slowly drags the frozen weight through the snow-covered street. It's exhausting work but she doesn't let that stop her. This is work that needs to be done. ]

step 5: use everything at your disposal ( wildcard )

( Comment below if you would like a custom starter, or leave one for me! This post is to establish some last-minute, pre-event CR to help set the stage for whatever is in store for us this month. These threads don't have to go on for a long time, since we'll all likely dive headfirst into event things soon, but if anyone would like to meet a stoic, absolutely not from the future, badass Starfleet officer in disguise, here's your chance.

And don't forget to check out La'an's permissions, if you haven't already! )

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( Comment here to request a custom starter! )

[Not having any other ideas, Levi has been scouting the town. Mostly looking through houses and shops, but none of them seemed to turn up any answers. Not that he really knew what the answers would look like, so he's more so making mental notes of where to find things that might be useful.
Since the buildings weren't much help, he turns his sights to the forest outside of town. He's not sure about it, but there could be something.

Near evening the boy with the oversized coat, army coveralls and rifle comes upon La'an on patrol. He hesitates, not sure how to deal with the people here (or anywhere, really), for a moment before speaking up. "Um, hi. Didn't really expect to see anyone else."

[ Whatever this place may truly be — whether an unending dream, the result of a mind that has finally been broken, or a Hell that he most certainly belongs to — he is to be trapped here for an unknown amount of time. And though little of it makes logical sense, Edward defaults to what he knows best, what he has always known best. To keep practicality. To move forwards.

Though the lieutenant finds himself dazed at times, having to pause what he is doing and recollect himself. Horror and melancholy haunt him like a spectre, leaving his flesh chilled and his spirit restless. He cannot allow his mind to slip, to wander too much, or else he'll fall down into it, into that despair.

He keeps busy. Checking in on a few other lost souls around here, exploring the area, searching, rarely staying indoors for long. A couple of the men he knows have trickled into this strange little town, and so his heart continues to insist that more may.

He's moving down the street when he sees something up ahead — a woman, dragging a large object along, slow and steady. It takes only moments to recognise what the wrapped-up thing must be, and the man's throat tightens; already he is moving closer, heavy boots crunching against the snow beneath. The amount of bodies here has been.... unsettling, but not unfamiliar. Little is no stranger to cold, unforgiving death, though to willingly go near it is against his nature even after so much of it. Still, he's been checking corpses that he comes across, gently lifting their heads to look for any sign of the men he knows. So far, none have been found, but each one could be, and perhaps....

In any case, it's clear that the woman's task is a burdensome one; he well-knows the heaviness of a corpse, and he's drawing quickly closer. ]

Pardon me...! [ Lifting one gloved hand, he calls out to the stranger. His tone is polite, demeanour professional. He still wears the clothing he is used to, the proud uniform of the Royal Navy, his long wool greatcoat, and officer's cap. ]

May I assist you?

[ Her head down to ensure sure footing as she drags the frozen body behind her, she doesn't see the man until he calls for her attention. Glancing up, she doesn't stop moving, one foot evenly in front of the other, but she does give him a thorough once-over. The ever-present sinking feeling in her stomach deepens as she takes in that uniform and his facial hair, the specific styles calling up a vague memory of Earth's history. Unless he's in some sort of costume, this man is from a significant amount of time before the 21st century.

Shit. ]

I've got this, thank you. [ Her British accent rounds the vowels of her words, her tone pointedly polite rather than dismissive. Nodding in the direction she'd been headed, she offers an alternative option. ] I could use someone to open the churchyard gate, if you don't mind.

[ She could do that herself, as well, but now that she's seen him, she can't just let this man wander off. There are questions she needs to ask, information that should be gathered. Everyone else she's met here so far seems to have come from close to the same point in time on Earth, so for this man to potentially deviate so drastically from that pattern... She needs to know more. ]

La'an hadn't expected to run into anyone else on her patrol either, her time walking the borders of the town usually spent in solitary silence. Such company isn't unwelcome, by any means, it's just not something she's used to. Most of the people here don't seem overly concerned with protecting the town from the predators in the forest, despite how easy it would be for anything to stroll down main street searching for its next meal.

Looking the boy over, she frowns slightly at the rifle but doesn't address it. There will be time for that later. In her usual lilting British accent, she replies, "Neither did I. There aren't usually many people out here."

Then, after a moment, because curiosity demands it, she adds, "Why are you out here?"

He notices the frown, not sure if its because he was out here or because of the gun. Didn't really matter anyway. "Its probably safer in town. I think that's why people stay there.
"I'm...scouting. I haven't been out this far yet."

[ Both hands lifted now, Edward hesitates, looking uncertain for a moment that lingers — it's heavy work, he knows. It feels strange to leave someone to their own devices, but he's also not one to push, and in fact is almost comically obedient in the face of any sort of direction. With a quick nod, the man starts, moving to walk near her, slowing his pace for the moment so that he can keep stride. There's a lingering awkwardness that he isn't helping her to carry the thing, and he keeps turning his head to look to her. ]

Just up this way, isn't it?

[ The church isn't far off, just at the end of the street, though he's not visited the place himself. No, he hasn't actually done any burying of bodies just yet, only searching. (Nothing taken; he cannot bring himself to take from the dead.)

As he walks, he looks over and down to the shrouded corpse, brow furrowed, fretful. ]

It is alarming how many dead are to be found in this place. What sort of... condition was that one found in?

[ The lack of argument on his part seems particularly strange to La'an. Even in Starfleet, there are plenty of human men who have on multiple occasions assumed her small size and stature means she must be in need of assistance. It's one of many reasons she has worked hard to be self-sufficient in every way, and why she doesn't hesitate to use her prodigious intimidation skill to its full potential at every chance she gets. But he doesn't even begin to put up a fight, positioning him at odds with everything she knows about pre-21st century humanity. So either he is incredibly enlightened for his time... or he's simply someone used to following others.

Honestly, she's a bit curious which it is. It makes him far more interesting than some of the people she's met here, which helps to slightly temper that sinking feeling. Only slightly, but she'll take it. ]

No apparent injuries and no signs of distress. He looks like he just... fell over. [ She discusses the condition of the corpse in the same manner as she would the weather: practically and to the point. This is clearly not the first dead body she's dealt with in her life. ] He's not the first I've found like this, either.

[ Her breathing is only slightly labored despite the weight she pulls, a testament to her strenuous training routine. If the ground weren't so treacherous from the snow, she would be running laps around the town for her perimeter check rather than walking them, but given the state of medical care they're limited to in this place, she isn't willing to risk breaking an ankle for a workout. ]

Her frown deepens and she crosses her arms, her expression growing slightly concerned. He's not wrong about why people have stayed within the town, which leads her to wonder what's pushed him to venture beyond that safety.

"It's important to know your surroundings, but you also need to be ready to defend yourself against whatever might be out there." She nods at the weapon he carries and asks, "Do you know how to use that?"

It's entirely possible he'd found the gun here, but she isn't willing to simply assume that and risk being wrong later. If she's going to protect these people, she needs to know what they're capable of.

[Rorschach was used to the feeling of scrounging. He'd lived one step above homelessness for the past ten years and had learned how to forage for supplies when money was tight. Food, clothing, tools, he was good at finding all these and more. Right now, he was checking the obvious source of possible items that was the grocery store.

There was a muted Plunk! Plunk! Plunk! that broke the silence as cans were dropped down onto what sounded like some sort of cloth surface. He was checking the few that were left for any signs they were still good. Not being a picky sort, almost all were deemed as having worth and dropped onto the sack by his feet on the ground.]

Somebody else is doing patrols. La'an will probably at least see him every time she's out, mostly keeping his distance from her but not actively avoiding her, either. He's big, and he's quiet, and he's bundled up in multiple layers of moth-eaten sweaters and a halfway-decent coat, on top of boots that are clearly combat quality and mostly hiding the two guns holstered underneath them.

After the first day, in fact, if she keeps to the same schedule, he seems to show up right as she's finishing her prowl around town to pick up where she left off. He might even nod at her as he starts.

He takes a moment to keep himself from sighing. He supposes its good that people don't look and him and just see 'solider' but something about being accused of not knowing how to use his rifle rubs him the wrong way. "I can defend myself. I was in the army."

She has the impression she might have offended him but she doesn't backpedal or apologize. Her job is to assess situations for the safety of the people under her protection, regardless of the personal feelings of anyone involved.

"Then I'm sure you understand why I had to ask," she points out authoritatively, noting he hadn't actually specified whether he could use that particular weapon. "Armed civilians without proper training could be as dangerous to the safety of this town as anything out in that forest."

The authoritative tone immediately puts him into a'this person out ranks you' mindset.

"...yeah. It could turn really bad if people just start shooting each other, even by accident. But I know how to use it. I've been serving for five years, Ma'am."

He looks rather young, though.

Edited 2023-09-05 16:52 (UTC)

Five years. That makes her pause, her entire perception of this child changing with a single sentence. What sort of world does he come from that he's been serving in a military for five years already? Unless he isn't human, but that's not a possibility she's willing to openly explore without having more information first.

Her tone softens slightly, though she's still very much in superior officer mode now. "What's your name, soldier?"

He'd argue that he's not a child, but would whole heartily agree that he started too early. It was all too common where he came from and he's not realized that's not how it is in other places.

"Levi Jořdán. Um...nice to meet you?"

[Maybe a minute or so after La'an sits down at the table to collect her notes and read some others, there comes a firm triplet of knocks at the front door. Oddly polite for a ghost town, maybe, but Clayton hasn't left the town hall much since he arrived; he's still familiarizing himself with the homes that have temporary inhabitants and the ones that have been left empty. They all look the same to him, desolate as the whole place is, and he can't tell if the footprints in the snow leading up to the landing are fresh or frozen from the night before.]

[There's someone pushing what looks like an empty dumpster into place near a house. Come closer, and La'an will find that Edward's filled the dumpster with fabric he's scavenged from one of the local stores, and other soft materials meant to cushion someone's fall. He presses down experimentally on the padding, then steps back and clambers up the side of the house till he's halfway up, then kicks off the wall in some flashy parkour move and falls into the dumpster.

He pops out a few moments later, wincing a little as he rolls his shoulder.]

That'll bruise in the morning. [He hops out, then waves hello at La'an.] Oi! You all right there?

[ 'He looks like he just... fell over.'

It has been the same for most of the other corpses he'd come across in this place, and although a less gruesome fate than many he has known, Edward still can't suppress a certain shudder that moves through him, a frown tugging softly at the corners of his mouth, though he otherwise manages to control his expression well. He stares down at the body for a moment longer, heart heavy. 'He', the woman refers to the wrapped corpse. A man. Edward knows he will have to check this one to be certain it isn't one of his lost men, and the thought makes his stomach ill as it always does.

(Is this truly his Hell? Damned to wander and search the dead with trembling hands? Again, he thinks, it is deserved. He will not fight it. He never does.) ]

The ones I have searched thus far also showed little sign of struggle. It seems almost peaceful.

...But death so rarely is, [ the man adds a beat later. Can it ever truly be peaceful? A heart stopping its functioning, organs shutting down, eyes losing their light. He has never seen a peaceful death, not in his lifetime. ]

You mean to bury him?

[ La'an goes still for a moment, listening to that strange sound she can't quite place at first, and then she continues moving, this time with purpose. As she gets closer, her mind puts together that it must be the sound of cans hitting each other, though it's only been recently that she's even held a can in recent memory. Without access to the Federation's matter synthesizers, she's felt even further out of her depth than she had in Toronto where they could at least purchase cooked food. Here, she's had to fend for herself without even electricity, which hasn't been easy, to say the least.

Turning a corner, she watches the figure drop another can into a sack, frowning at the sight. Does he know something the rest of them don't? She wants to bluntly ask what this person is doing, but she elects for a more circumspect approach to start. ]

Stocking up?

[ The knocking catches her off-guard, to be sure. It doesn't startle her, exactly, but she is surprised by it, pen freezing above the paper of her notebook that's nearly a third full with notes already despite it only being a short time since her arrival and relatively little concrete information being available to them. Connecting the dots takes work, and she's unwilling to let even the smallest detail slip through her fingers.

It feels strange to invite someone inside when it isn't her house, but she does so anyway, raising her voice to be heard through the quiet. ] Come in!

[ And then she waits, her spot at the table in line of sight of the front door. She hasn't met many of the others in the town, keeping her distance as a way to keep her secrets in those first days. But now that it appears quite clear that they likely aren't going anywhere anytime soon, she's facing the fact that she's going to have to start making connections. ]

[He turned to look at who had spoken to him, posture tense like he was ready for fight. When he saw it was a woman, he didn't relax at all, still with his gloves hands balled at his sides and standing ramrod straight. The black spots on the white mask scattered in opposite directions for a moment before they started to merge back together in the center.

He gave a short nod at the question. A big talker this superhero wasn't.]

[Clayton had halfway expected not to get a response at all, as he hasn't for so many other houses he's visited today, so getting an actual invitation this time briefly catches him off-guard too. But only for a second. A pause, then the door slowly creaks open on frozen hinges, and another pause as Clayton lingers in the doorway to drink in the scene. He's easily able to fill it with natural bulk and some layers under a navy blue peacoat, although he still manages to look and feel quite cold with the snow dusting his hair and salt-and-pepper beard.

[Flashing a hesitant smile, gesturing at the table-- ] Sorry, you're busy. I can come back some other time, if you'd rather?

[Yes, he's already moving to close the door behind him, but that's more to keep what little heat is in the house from escaping while they waffle.]

[ The nature of death is something with which La'an is intimately acquainted. Being the only survivor among well over a hundred people brutally massacred does that to a person, when you remember the sounds and smells of death more than the signs of life. Add in all the many she's lost during her time in Starfleet... Well, she knows that for most, death is anything but peaceful. Only the very lucky receive that gift. ]

As well as I can. [ She confirms it with a nod, pausing in her motion just long enough to adjust her grip on the sheet before continuing her slow progress toward the little cemetery. ] It was pointed out to me recently that we may not be able to dig deep enough given the frozen ground, so if we're still here when it thaws, we may need to dispose of these bodies in other ways.

[ Most people she's met in her life wouldn't deal well with the idea of digging up corpses to burn for sanitation reasons, so she's assuming this man from the past would be no different. La'an isn't one to shy away even from the most gruesome notions. ]

"And you," she replies properly, uncrossing her arms and instead holding her hands behind her back in her standard professional stance. "My name is La'an. Are you another recent arrival?"

There are so many here who are as new as she is, it makes her wonder what might have changed to suddenly bring in so many people. Especially given the unsettling fate of the town's previous residents...

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the steps of survival — ota

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stay calm

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Inventory Supplies

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cw: kids being sent to war

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