singillatim | no man is an island

MAY 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS: Young Bill asks the Interlopers for help in dealing with a group of protestors that have been harassing him for months — by stealing their hidden caches and starving/forcing them out of the Lakeside area.

PROMPT TWO — SACRIFICIAL OFFERINGS: It turns out that sometimes folktales are true after all, and a mysterious creature lives within the Lake of Lakeside — and it demands payment for use of its Lake.

PROMPT THREE — GLIMMERFOG: A strange new weather phenomenon causes a new illness in Interlopers.

THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS

WHEN: Mid-May — onwards.
WHERE: Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; themes of morality; themes of scavenging; instances of animal mutilation; instances of corpse mutilation/desecration; themes of folk horror;

Methuselah, having visited Lakeside, passes on the message in mid-May that Young Bill is looking for assistance from the Interlopers and asks for anyone who would be kind enough to donate their time to visit him. Some may already know how to Young Bill’s cabin, but Methuselah will draw a quick map for those unfamiliar to find the way.

After traversing through the Milton Mine — which was cleared by Interlopers back in March — and using the hand-operated crank to use the lift to reach the Lakeside entrance, Interlopers will simply need to follow the train track down through the mountains for a few hours before crossing the railway bridge over the ravine and into Lakeside. Coming off the tracks and following a trail northwards will eventually lead to a small cabin and outbuilding within a clearing: this is the home of Young Bill.

… and it seems the man himself is no less wary when he steps out onto his porch, his rifle in hands raised towards the newcomers that make their way into their clearing. Mentioning that Methuselah sent you will quickly earn that rifle being lowered though, and he will nod his head indoors.

“C’mon, I’ll get some coffee on. You look like you could do with the warm up.”

Young Bill will do just that, encouraging Interlopers to sit and warm themselves by the log burner within his home — offering mugs of coffee. He’s not alone in the cabin, either. There’s also Scout, an Alaskan Malamute, who… appears to be nesting, sleeping on piles of blankets and pillows. Once everyone’s a little warmer, he will take a seat. Onto business, then.

“Alright, straight up— what I’m suggesting here isn’t gonna be all that pleasant when you look at the big picture. If you want out, that’s fine. I’m not gonna judge.”

He means that. He understands that this going to be less than savoury, and folks are gonna have their principles and their morals. People are free to walk away from his proposal, but regardless of their participation: this is happening.

“Some of you already know about this, but I’ll start from the beginning for those who don’t. There’s this group of folks who call themselves the ‘Forest Talkers’. Rocked up here a couple of years back to protest against some of the big productions going on here in Lakeside, like the resort expansion.” he shrugs. “Few of them are locals, but most of them are from the Mainland. They weren’t so bad, but they were a pain in the ass for the companies working here. Messing with machinery, protests, vandalism. That sort of thing. I’d see them around but— they never used to bother me at all. We kept out of another’s way until everything started going south several months back.

But now? Those eco-fucks have done nothing but cause trouble for months. They break my traps, they’ve stolen from me. They tried to trash my home. They’ve even tried to attack me while I’ve been out. Pretty sure they’re the ones behind some of the burnt-out and trashed lodges. …I heard some of you guys got shot at, too.”

There’s a short pause, and Young Bill’s face grows dark, a little disturbed. Those who have been in the Northern Territories longer will note that something has been bothering Young Bill for the last couple of months or so. He’s been reluctant to mention it, but the man looks exhausted.

“They’ve done… odd shit, too. Like something out of an old horror movie. It’s like they’ve gone nuts, or something.”

If pressed, he will share the more… grisly details. Killed and mutilated wildlife, often arranged in frightening manners. He’s even found the… bodies of people: Forest Talkers themselves from what he can gather, some natives to the Northern Territories, some workers from the resort and hydrodam. The bodies are just as mutilated, skin torn from limbs, eyes removed. At some point, he has to stop. He doesn’t want to go on.

“I’ve tried reasoning with them, I’ve tried threatening them. They don’t wanna listen. I’m tired of being watched and hounded in my own home.” he explains. He seems exhausted by the whole thing. “So I guess the only thing I can think to do is to try and starve them out. I’m not here to attack anyone, but I guess maybe if they don’t have much left then they’ll finally give up and just leave. I bet if they didn’t have the foothold they have in this place, they wouldn’t be half as brave as they are.”

Ah, yes. The less-than-savoury part of all of this. Stealing from others, starving them out. Perhaps it’s not the worst thing to do to another here, but cutting off lifelines might be… morally questionable.

“They have caches, all over Lakeside. Food, supplies, stuff like that. I’ve found notes.”

He gets up to walk towards his desk and pulls out a few pieces of paper. Each of them is marked with either a stamp or some hand-drawn symbol: a circle with a simple line of pine trees inside of it, topped with the shadow of a face. They’re handwritten notes, detailing cryptic clues about where caches are hidden all over the area. Young Bill will hand them out to Interlopers to have a look.

“I have a rough idea of where they are, but I need help in finding them. It’s hard enough with the fog, and now Scout’s expecting.” There’s an unamused grumble at that last part, but he continues. “You can keep what’s in them, I just want them gone.”

Some may choose to back out of this, and Young Bill is true to his word. He isn’t here to shame or judge anyone for not choosing to get in on this. But for those who do, the journey begins. Interlopers can go out into Lakeside and begin the grim scavenger hunt. Young Bill will even supply Interlopers with maps of the Lakeside area with vague ideas of where he believes the notes may be talking about in terms of these caches. For those who disbelieve Young Bill’s claims, they too will soon find their own evidence: the very same things the man had spoken of scattered around the area.

It’s disturbing. Something is… very wrong with these people. But there seems to be no trace of the actual people themselves. Interlopers may get the sense of being watched, perhaps a sound from the woods, or something of the like — but nothing more than that. Heading to the Old Hunting Lodge and getting too close will bring on gunfire from the Forest Talkers.

Caches, when found, may be rock cairns hidden against rockier areas in Lakeside. Some might be metal containers half-hidden or even buried in the snow. They will mostly contain goods such as dried food or even MRE’s. Others will contain things like basic medical supplies such as bandages, disinfectants, painkillers, or antibiotics. Others may contain flares or ammunition. Interlopers are free to claim the items as their own — just as Young Bill said.

Surely this will get rid of them, and force them to leave the area. Right?

SACRIFICIAL OFFERINGS

WHEN: The month of May, onwards.
WHERE: Lakeside.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural creatures; serpentine creature; themes of sacrifice; potential character death/maiming; potential drownings.

While the lake of Lakeside appears to have been well known for being used all year, with fishing and watersports available during the summer, the harsh weather that has plagued the Northern Territories now means that the lake has now (possibly) become permanently frozen solid. In some respects, this is good news: allowing Interlopers to cross the terrain more easily to reach the cabins and not resorting to the long way around through the woods. It also means that there is ample opportunity for ice fishing, and it’s possible to build structures on the ice to stay warm.

But something else lurks beneath the thick ice, and it has noticed you upon its frozen waters.

In the Camp Office, a small display hangs on the wall about a monster from folklore native to the lake. It is said that the beast was the guardian of the lake and would demand sacrifice from those who wished to use its waters or otherwise drag them down to a watery grave. The whole thing seems like just some “fun” interest-grabber to visitors and those vacationing on the lake, even with cartoon drawings of a gigantic snake-like monster smiling goofily.

Or is it?

To the unsuspecting Interloper who ventures out onto the lake, whether to fish upon it or simply cross it, it appears, bursting through the ice: a huge serpentine creature with dark-green skin dotted with ridges along its back and dragon-like head — thick-bodied and incredibly fast as it rears up and opens its mouth — roaring at you with a wide, fanged mouth.

And then, it waits. And suddenly you wonder if maybe that cheesy display in the Camp Office might have had a point after all.

The creature demands a sacrifice for the use of its lake. Perhaps you have food or some freshly caught game to offer it. Or some small token you own that you can give to it: a tool, a cherished item. Maybe even the shirt off your own back, or the very blood running through your veins. You must give something.

Lay it upon the ice before it, and the beast will take it, gently collecting it between its teeth and returning to the depths below. Refuse to give anything, and the beast will roar and launch into an attack — pulling itself fully out of the lake.

It moves with speed, and will try to devour you, or wrap its body around you to squeeze the life out of you, or simply pull you down under the water. There will be no winning against this creature, no way of harming it and no way of fighting back. You may have a chance of running away, getting off the lake, but it will remember you, and will try to come for you once more if you ever step foot on the ice again.

The choice is yours, Interloper. What will you sacrifice?

GLIMMERFOG

WHEN: The month of May, onwards into early June.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural weather; themes of illness; insomnia and sleep deprivation symptoms; altered-mental states; hallucinations; nosebleeds/blood; possible character death.

Interlopers have come to understand that strange meteorological occurrences are not uncommon within the Northern Territories, especially given the Aurora. Auroras can often last for days, as one long and seemingly endless kind of terrible, noisy bright night which affects both electronics and nature alike. Or there's the toxic fog; times where the sky goes green and the moon and stars disappear; monster blizzards… strange is the new norm.

The fog that began in April doesn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. Endless days where the fog is too thick to travel in. Fortunately, there are no further bouts of the green, toxic fog that plagued the Northern Territories — the fog that remains is just the usual freezing cold and clinging damp that's been exhausting Interlopers.

Until there’s something else that starts to happen with the fog.

At first, it appears to be no different than the usual fog rolling in: cold, wet, and biting. It clings to those who are caught out in it, and it’s utterly miserable. However, those paying attention will note that the clouds of fog will occasionally... glimmer.

It’s as if there’s a current of electricity running through it, if one watches carefully. Mini lightning bolts shooting through and upwards in curious patterns. Flicks and pops that make the tiny hairs on one’s arms and neck stand up — almost like static. It won’t shock those caught within it, but it might be a little difficult to look at at times — as if someone were staring at a light that’s far too bright.

It’s oddly pretty, and seems particularly harmless, but there’s something far more sinister about this new, strange phenomena — or... Glimmerfog, as Interlopers will come to call it.

The first sign that something is amiss is the insomnia. In truth, sleep is often hard to come by in the Northern Territories, so it might be something that is easily brushed off as quite usual in terms of day to day life. However, Interlopers will realise they won’t be able to sleep at all, and will find themselves lying awake for the entirety of the night. Soon enough, more things creep up with the insomnia, the usual signs of sleep deprivation: dizzy spells, unsteadiness on one’s feet, poor hand-eye coordination, difficulty in concentration or poor short-term memory, even mood swings or changes to behaviour are likely.

Eventually, the symptoms begin to grow more sinister: nosebleeds are common, aches and pains... and then the fever sets in. Interlopers will become weak, lethargic, and even then they still cannot sleep through their illness. With it, comes hallucinations: sounds or sights, and then quickly developing into a full on delirium. Dreams and reality blend into one. An Interloper’s dreams and nightmares bleed into the waking world. They will find themselves experiencing their dreams despite being wide awake.

It seems like there is very little to be done in trying to fight the illness. Trying to tackle the fever and getting the afflicted Interloper some kind of sleep is the main concern, both of which may eventually kill the Interloper if enough is not done in time. Natural sleep-aids like herbal teas, or medications still available in the world may be able to get the Interloper to sleep for short amounts of time. Keeping the Interloper inside and away from the Glimmerfog will also help immensely, as will spending time in complete darkness or even underground or within caves/mining systems.

Breaking the fever will signal the peak and decline of the illness, and with enough care the Interloper will slowly begin to recover.

FAQs

THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS

1. Players are free to come up with their own ideas of cache locations within Lakeside. It might be particular points of interest, a particular kind of tree, within isolated cabins in the woods.

2. Please be reasonable of finds in the caches. These supply amounts won't be a huge amount — think small but many caches.

3. It is possible to come across the grisly finds in Lakeside without meeting up with Young Bill first.

4. Caches would tend to stick to similar themes, ie. food cache, medicine cache, etc.

SACRIFICIAL OFFERINGS

1. It is not possible to communicate with the beast, but it does seem to understand Interlopers. It will have no desire to communicate of befriend any one, though.

2. The beast will be a permanent fixture of the Lake.

3. Interlopers who initially refuse to give the beast anything can try again at a later date. They will have to offer their offering quickly, showing outward remorse for their initial disrespect towards the beast.

4. Locals refer to the Lakeside Beast as 'Nor'pogo.'

GLIMMERFOG

1. "Glimmerfog Disease" will run it's full course in roughly ten to fourteen days, with symptoms peaking typically around day seven to nine. Once the fever breaks, Interlopers will require a few days to fully recover.

2. Characters are welcome to kill of NPCs with this prompt, as Interlopers who don't make it through the illness — or to be used to study the sickness. Please let the mods know if you plan to kill an NPC for record keeping purposes!

PLOTTING POST

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is absolutely no way that Hickey will tell Little what the actual reason Hickey hates Irving is. Because he saw Irving judge him for who he was. Because every time he looks at Irving, it might as well be that conversation when Irving told Hickey to turn away from all this, to repent from his sinful, devious ways. Because he knew that when Irving looked at him and told him that, Irving thought him lesser. Irving thought Hickey as dirty.

"I don't loathe you," Hickey points out. And that's true. He doesn't loathe Edward. In fact, he doesn't think much of Edward Little to begin with. He's a mediocre second and probably an even worst first—Hickey doesn't know. But the straits that he left the men in once he took Crozier were certainly something he wasn't sure Little could deal with.

"I loathe him for other reasons. More personal ones. But they have nothing to do with you." A pause before, "Though I do think both of your loyalties are misplaced."

Being so loyal to Crozier is the only immediate reason that Little can think of, why Hickey would hold such hatred for John Irving. And if that is true, then he must hold the same hatred for Little as well, and both of them might equally be his targets...

...But once again, the other man's answer stuns him completely. Now is the opportunity for Hickey to flash his dangerous teeth at Little, to tell him just how much he wants him dead too, but... he doesn't. 'I don't loathe you.'

To think that he can stand here and hold what is almost... normal conversation with Hickey (granted, nothing about this encounter is normal, considering they both just gave up some of their blood to a monster from the deep and now are talking about their shared past which includes such subjects as murder, mutiny, and cannibalism....) But it (and the fact Hickey helped him through such a horrifying experience) normalises this man who has seemed so much like a devil, and once again, Little doesn't know what to do with this.

He's quiet, frowning, eyes unsure as he watches the other man. (A man. He's just a man, not truly a monster.) After that long pause, he exhales sharply, trying to gather himself. He's feeling incredibly thrown off-guard by Cornelius Hickey and he's not sure how to recover from it.

"I'll not ask as to your personal affairs with him. But no matter what you may think of our loyalties, or of Lieutenant Irving himself, now that he is living here with us, I need to know that you'll not target him again."

It isn't said like a command, or even harshly at all. It's just... a request, a sincere one (oh Edward Little, who is still, even now, so incredibly, stupidly earnest and trusting.)

A beat, and then—

"Please."

"You know that's a request I can't fully agree to."

Killing John Irving was advantageous for their survival. If the same happens here? Hickey will happily kill John Irving in a heartbeat. Sanctimonious holier-than-thou asshole, how even now Hickey wants to run him through. How he wants to solve the problem of John Irving and therefore solve the problem of Billy Gibson fretting about John Irving (because Billy, though Hickey loves him, frets about everything), and how easy it would be to solve that problem with a knife.

But he knows he won't. Because far too many people here are still concerned with their fucking morals.

When Hickey speaks, he speaks in a calm, deliberate manner, choosing every word carefully. "But I can promise you this. If he keeps away from me, I'll keep away from him. I won't make any promises that I won't kill him—place like this, who knows. It's foolish to make too many hard and fast promises. But I won't seek him out."

Once more, it's an unexpectedly sincere response from Hickey. Certainly not the answer that Little wants to hear, but.... it's surely an honest one. And though it does little to ease the tight worry in his gut, it.... does something. It's an agreement. A thing with terms, guidelines. Even if they may be horrific ones — it's still safer than nothing.

And it seems that Hickey wants to stay away from Irving just as much as he assumes the latter does. ....Huh. That's not what he was expecting; Little has been nursing the mental image of Hickey going out of his way to hunt down and re-kill John Irving. But.... this is something that can be managed. Something he can help do in order to keep things safe in this surreal situation where all of them are trapped with one another.

"All right. I understand, and I'll do all that I can to maintain a.... distance, between the both of you. He is staying with me now, so I'll be keeping an eye on things."

This is weird! Everything's weird! But... maybe better than it could be? Yes, it has to be.

This is something that can be managed. Something Billy should be fine with. Something he can work around and use as a sign that he's trying. He's got this. It should be fine.

He hopes. Who knows.

"Trust me, I don't plan on visiting you unless I have to. Keep an eye on things all you want. You're not going to see me skulking around your place."

God, this truly is the most unexpected encounter he could ever have with Cornelius Hickey. To reach some sort of agreement... It really has shifted things. Little has much to think about with all of this.

"Then — I am glad we have reached an understanding." He nods, eyes sweeping back down to the bandaged wound at the other man's hand, one that matches his own.

"....Thank you again. I am grateful for your assistance with this... creature." But that doesn't quite cover it. Hickey might actually have saved his life. Little pauses, wetting his lower lip with his tongue for a moment, a habit he's never been able to shed. No matter his history with this man, he has to be fair about things. Truthful. And the truth is...

"I owe you dearly, Mr. Hickey."

Little admits that he owes him. Hickey's eyes just light up with excitement for one brief, shining moment before he tampers them down to something more neutral and less excited. Damn straight Little owes him. He knows exactly what Little would have done if he hadn't dealt with that sea monster: absolutely nothing.

"You'll repay it soon enough," Hickey shrugs. There's a moment before he muses, "Though I think this conversation has been enough for one day. I've got things to do, after all."

And selfishly, he wants to end it on Little thinking about just how Hickey did help him and how he certainly must repay Hickey for his kindness and his care.

There may be something dangerous to it — to telling a man like this he owes him, but Little couldn't do otherwise. This isn't something that can be forgotten, this act. Hickey saved him; Little wouldn't have ever thought to do what needed to be done in that moment. He would have just... stood there. He'd probably be dead now.

You'll repay it soon enough. Perhaps there's something dangerous to that, too, although Little nods in response, knowing that he will, he should. And Hickey's agreed not to actively pursue Irving — that in itself is an enormous heaviness lifted. Not appeased, not fully, but.. it's something. It's a lot.

"Then — I'll be on my way, as well." He nods again, polite even if all of this is still so strange, and he'll wait for Hickey to take his leave first before he'll start heading off on his own way, shaken by the incident but... not as much as he could have been, thanks to Hickey. No, he won't forget this.

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