seven devils all around you, seven devils in your house

[singmod]

JUNE 2024 EVENT

PART ONE — A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME: The Darkwalker claims another victim, and that is only the beginning of troubles for the Interlopers as they face a month of endless night and green gloom.

PART TWO — POLAR SUN: As June continues, Interlopers are faced with food insecurity as wildlife flees; tensions grow as they face hunger and the Darkwalker's continued influence. On the day of the Summer Solstice, the tension finally breaks and violent chaos descends upon Interlopers.

PART THREE — REPRIEVE: The end is in sight, and an ally comes to the Interloper’s aid.

A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME

WHEN: June 1st, then onwards.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area (Carter Hydrodam).
CONTENT WARNINGS: death of playable character; supernatural death; mention of dead body; themes of death; supernatural beings; themes of terror; themes of peril.

The evening is quiet and still. May draws to a close and while the sun does not completely set, it dips low enough for the sky to grow a little darkdim with twilight. The midnight sun is almost upon the Northern Territories, the air is warmer than it has ever felt — even if it remains chilly. If this is summer, it is but a gentle brush of reprieve against the unyielding winter. The Interlopers wind down for the night, many turn to their beds to sleep, others sit awake and ponder their existence in this world. They think of home, of loved ones, of their predicament here in this place. The Forest Talkers, the strange beasts and monsters they’ve encountered.

The moon wanes in the skies, nestled amongst the stars. For those still awake to notice, they can see it: slowly, one by one, the stars begin to go out. Then the moon's light is swallowed whole, and a blanket of green gloom descends upon the Northern Territories.

The sky is dark and green and terrible. Many of those will recognise it, what this means and what will come. Others will not understand it, not know what it is that awaits them all.

They will soon find out: the Darkwalker comes.

Under a green sky, a cold fear washes over you — squeezing the breath from your lungs. Interlopers will find themselves overcome with that fear, and everything in their bodies and minds tells them to run. To flee. And so you run, heading for cover. Curtains will be drawn, some may hide under beds, within closets or wardrobes. Some desperately attempt to conceal themselves, make themselves small, unseen. Some Interlopers, in that fear, may rush to friends or loved ones to hide with them, others may simply cower alone — crawling and whimpering away from the night. The fear is irrational, unable to be overcome — even by the bravest or most stoic of Interlopers.

For those within Milton, it is further away but is by no means less potent: Interlopers will find themselves frozen with the constant loom of the Darkwalker’s arrival — even if it does not come to Milton. Those within Lakeside, however, will feel the true force of this presence: more like a knife edge — painfully gripping your heart as it draws close.

The Darkwalker howls: indescribable, unnatural, demonic. Low moans and groans. It comes from the east, the faint booms of footsteps in the distance growing ever nearer. It is coming, once more. It's coming for one of you. And still, you are powerless, unable to do anything. And it is an agony, awaiting its arrival. You cry, you whimper, you cower. Curling up for some shred of comfort, and finding none.

For those in Lakeside, through the fear, they may be able to note the path: a straight line from the east towards Carter Hydrodam. It seems to go on forever, building into a crescendo. Your heart beats so hard you fear it may burst from your chest, as if you might die of fright.

There is an almighty sound; the Darkwalker devours and even with the distance you can hear it. The sound of gnashing teeth, and… laughter. There is no scream, no bright light in the sky — Enola is silent this time. There is only that laughter, echoing off into the night.

The skies do not return to normal. The green gloom hangs in the air. It is done, but it is not yet over. While the overwhelming fear dissolves away, but a kind of… dread remains on the air — almost palpable.


The Darkwalker has devoured another. Braver souls who go out to investigate into Lakeside will find just who has been devoured once they reach the Hydrodam — although it may be a day or two before they will find the body in the medical bay.

At least it is cold enough that the rot does not fully set in — but death will certainly be here.

And this is but the beginning of the Interloper’s troubles.

POLAR SUN

WHEN: The month of June, up to Midsummer’s Eve + Summer Solstice.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; food scarcity/food insecurity; supernatural weather; altered mental states; mental manipulation; themes of violence; potential character injury; potential character death; potential NPC death.

In the coming weeks and days, and weeks, the green gloom lingers. From the Darkwalker’s attack, there is no sun. No day, no night. No stars or moon or sun. No Auroras. Just the gloom and biting cold. Life becomes increasingly hard on Interlopers: higher expenditure on fuel — fires and lanterns are imperative to keep the darkness and the cold at bay.

With the green gloom in the air, the wildlife becomes more scarce — as if it has been frightened away into the deeper parts of the wilds. It will be harder to bring in fresh meat in both Milton and Lakeside, and Interlopers will find that they will have to rely on whatever stores they have — and perhaps even rationing for a while.

And it’s not the only thing frightened. Even with the debilitating fear that comes with the Darkwalker’s attack gone, there is still a kind of fear that lingers on the air that slowly eats away at the Interloper’s resolve over time.

Interlopers will find themselves anxious, on edge. Some will be prone to anger in their fear, others prone to fits of melancholy: tearfulness and sorrow. Between the cold, the lack of fresh game and the fear on the air — it’s no wonder spirits are low. Bickering and minor upsets between Interlopers are likely.

They call it the midnight sun, the polar day. It's opposite is the polar night. This is neither and both. On the day of midsummer's eve, that fear on the air is even more palpable. The air feels a little stifling at times, as if the pressure is all off — often quite oppressive, a strange kind of tension. There is something brewing, a low burning thing that begins from the moment Interlopers wake — heavy and sharp in their chest.

’So, Interloper. What will you do now?’ A voice sneers in your ear. The very same voice that has haunted Interlopers since the very beginning. The Darkwalker finally speaks after all these weeks of gloom since its most recent attack. ’When all is gone, when even the sun does not rise? What will you do then?’

A nervousness sits within you as you remember the Darkwalker’s words. What will you do if the sun does not rise? If the darkness is all that is left? If the food runs out? Your wonderings will continue to gnaw away within you. The darkness is hollowing.

’Will you lean on others, like you have always tried to do?’ the voice continues. ’What bonds you hold with them, the ones with those around you. But how strong are they, truly? Can you trust them? Will it matter when your belly is empty and your heart is low? Perhaps it is time to see.

’Never forget, Interloper. I am the Rot. And I will rot within you.’

As the day progresses into the Solstice, that tension lingers in the air, and the wonderings within you continue to wear at you. You find yourself becoming more and more agitated as time goes on. Those feelings that have been brewing for some time now have started to grow close to boiling. You may snap at others, grow restless, become enraged at the tiniest of things — the upsets wildly out of proportion for the smallest slights or issues.

You find your thoughts wandering, too. Perhaps it is to someone you know in this place, or perhaps it is to someone previously unknown to you. Maybe you have an issue with this person, or perhaps the voice’s influence extends further — not only adding to your agitations but creating them, too. A slight, a grudge, a bias.

You feel a bitter gnawing within you. The nightmarish green gloom above you persists and everything bubbles up from within. From the dark, the anger within you become too much. The tension finally snaps.

For some, it might come out as a vicious argument where you air your grievances, or finally let slip the things you’ve been holding close to your chest. A verbal beat down, incredibly hurtful in nature. For others, things may be drawn to getting physical. A literal beat down where your fists grow bruised and bloody, or perhaps even worse. Whatever it is, you want to do damage to someone else — there is darkness here, and so many things come out in the dark, don’t they?

Like a ripple, all around you: all hell breaks loose. Chaos erupts, and the air is filled with violence.

Let’s hope you might stop, or someone else stops you, before someone gets killed.

REPRIEVE

WHEN: Circa three days after the Summer Solstice.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: blood.

All things must come to an end, even the most violent of deadly storms. In the midst of the seemingly endless violence of the night, you find yourself outside. Maybe you're fleeing from another Interloper, maybe you're desperately trying to reach someone you care for, maybe you're simply trying to find somewhere new to hide. Interlopers are hunting one another, blood lies on the snow, bodies too — some breathing, some not.

Perhaps it is a trick of the light. Perhaps it's the Darkwalker’s influence still warping your already frayed mind. Or it's the blood in your eyes, your battered and bruised body struggling to get through it all.

In the gloom, you see it. See her.

A woman, dressed in furs, stones and shells glimmering on her chest like armour, stands in the snow before you. Thin and pale, eyes sunken. Her chest heaves with each breath as she looks around with wide eyes. Her hands are bare and bloody. It drips slowly from her fingers. Is it her blood? Or someone else's? You cannot tell, but you cannot mistake how thick it coats her skin.

Her head turns to look at you. You are stunned, but not frightened. Even through the gloom, after a moment or two, her eyes widen in recognition: she knows you.

Slowly and silent, other than her noisy breathing, she draws close to you. Maybe in turn you draw close to her, closing the distance between you. Up close, her eyes are blue, and sad. You cannot mistake the sorrow in them. She is tired, weary. Her hair is dark, worn loose and long. For some, you feel as if you've seen her before, but you can't quite place her face.

Softly, she says your name.

For some, there may be no recognition. This woman is a stranger, who knows your name somehow. She has been silent the past couple of months, after all.

For others, hearing her speak brings a sudden, jarring realisation: this is Enola.

She’s here. Enola. All this time, she’s whispered to you in dreams, in static, in the very air itself.

She raises one hand, dark and dripping in the green light. Lightly, her fingers brush against your chest. You don’t feel the pressure of them, don’t feel the odd heat of blood — only the weight of her stare as she holds your gaze. It’s a long moment of peace in amongst the chaos.

You feel her exhaustion, a tiredness that sinks into your very bones. Apologies, too. You have never known anything like it. But there’s something else too, something that takes a moment or two to put your finger on. Defiance. A renewal. Something shifts in the air, a growing tension, different from the kind that’s been held on the air throughout the month. It’s the coming of a storm, the rolling clouds, the growing rumble of thunder before the first lightning strike.

Enola nods, her expression grave. She pulls away and turns from you — her head lifting towards the skies as she walks. Her arms raise, bloodied hands twisting and tensing before her. They curl, almost into fists, and she makes a gesture: the slow tearing of something huge and invisible before her — a shriek spilling from her lips. A battle-cry, a last stand, a wail of agony. It echoes.

The sky cracks and splits open before you, dazzling light and colours blinding your vision into pure white. The world tilts too hard below your feet, and you don’t remember passing out.

When you awaken, Enola is gone. The skies are clear and blue, the sun is high in the sky. As you pick yourself up from the snow, in the harsh light of the polar day, blood has never looked so red. The horrors of the night laid bare. Interlopers are dead, but the Darkwalker’s influence is gone. For now.

In the wake of Midsummer, all Interlopers can do is try reconcile. Bury the dead, rebuild, lick wounds. But that feeling in the air still remains — that different, new kind of tension that has come with Enola’s appearance. The first of the lightning bolts has struck, but more are coming.

FAQs

A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME

1. Alexander Hilbert has been devoured by the Darkwalker. His remains can be found in the Hydrodam. The following note has been left by Kates concerning his death: ‘Sveta gets possession of his research notes + blood samples + creepy lab journal because it's all in Russian, lmao.’

2. Information on the Darkwalker’s attack can be found here.

3. Usually, after the Darkwalker attacks, the sky would return to normal. This won’t happen. Instead, the usual atmospheric changes that occur during Darkwalker attacks will remain in place as June continues..


POLAR SUN

1. For an idea how the setting appears for June, it's like what you see in the game during the Escape The Darkwalker Challenge. Inside, there'll be a degree of green shades to rooms etc via what comes through windows but with it being lit up via fires and light sources, the gloom will be chased back.


2. Characters are free to use this event to kill NPC Interlopers. Methuselah and Young Bill are off the table, as are two marked NPC Interlopers. Please let Mods know if you intend on doing this for record keeping!

3. These acts of violence can be physical or verbal altercations, players are encouraged to work with the prompt however they'd like! However, anything potentially world-altering (ie. building destruction) must be first discussed with mods.

4. Interlopers under the Darkwalker's influence can be stopped in a number of ways. Showing genuine care and compassion in the face of violence is one way. Knocking an Interloper out is another way. Sometimes killing an Interloper may be needed, or simply restraining them and keeping them locked up somewhere so they can't hurt anyone else until the night is over would also work.

5. Talismans made by Heartman back in March with a Ward Sigil against the Darkwalker will come into effect during this prompt. It's been an ongoing process, with new Interlopers being offered them from their arrival. Players are free to choose what kind of talisman they received, or if they chose to get one at all. Their effectiveness is dependent on the type of blood used on the talisman.

— Animal Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood from animals found in the world, such as deer, rabbits or wolves will find themselves more susceptible to the Darkwalker’s influence and disposition towards violence. They will be much harder to break out of the hold over them, and become almost frenzied state.
— Monster Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood from any creatures or monsters that Interlopers have encountered in their time in the Northern Territories, such as the Serpent from December’s TDM will find there are no negative nor positive effects. The talisman is essentially useless. and Interlopers will fall under the Darkwalker's influence.
— Interloper Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood for Interlopers will be offered protection/resistance from the Darkwalker’s influence and disposition towards violence. They may be slightly affected but will have their wits about them more compared to others. If the blood came from an Interloper with an Aurora Feat — this protection/resistance will be largely increased, an the Interloper may even feel braver, less affected by the fear in the atmosphere.
— No Talisman: Similar to the Monster Blood Talisman, Interlopers will be affected typically by the Darkwalker's influence in due course.

There are no additional affects with an Interloper using their own blood, just if they have an Aurora Feat or not.

6. Animals owned by Interlopers will be more frightened and will want to hide away in the build up — they will be disturbed by the world. Mostly lying down and whining/restlessness. They may display some signs of aggression on occasion, but not to the same degree of humans.

7. Forest Talkers are hidden away and will not be able to be reached during the Solstice.

REPRIEVE

1. Enola can only be met alone, but she will appear to all Interlopers in Milton.

2. Enola will be nowhere to be found afterwards, there are no tracks to be followed. She has simply vanished.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[castitas]

[ It's a gesture that's surprising. Especially coming from Rorschach, of all people. Because, like— she gets it, she gets him. He has his own ways of doing things, his own ways of being. Even grabbing his hands just before was probably a whole lot for him. It's just— not him, and that's okay.

But he's offering her to sit with him, and she takes the offer — gingerly lowering herself down to sit. Her head feels so weird, she doesn't feel totally okay. But she sits, pulling her knees to her chest.

She's quiet as she listens, nodding a little. It... makes sense, and— well, this sucks. ]

... Crashing back down? Does it go away?

[wingbound]

For the better, hopefully.

Window planks it is, then. Of course, Chloe is welcome to help. He still seems to be favoring one arm over the other -- a remnant of an injury during the goddamn Purge -- but it doesn't appear to affect his efficiency in a significant way.

"No," he says after a moment with a slight frown. He may have seen one at some point, maybe, but nothing really grew in the Underground and then he was too busy in the military to think of taking up gardening. "You?"

[wingbound]

[ Levi, on the other hand, doesn't seem to pay any attention to it -- he's used to being shorter than other people and while Rearscratch appears to be of roughly similar size, it's not particularly surprising that he still wins out. As long as he doesn't rub it in his face, they're good. ]

[ He's a little impressed to see that the man has already done work sorting things into categories; this definitely makes things easier. It's almost like a real library. He pulls out a couple of books on plant identification; he'd like to be at least a little useful when it comes to gathering, especially since hunting prospects are not looking too good right now. ]

Thanks. [ And finally, the elephant in the room. He stares at Rorschach for a few long moments, expression blank. ] How do you see anything through that sock on your head? Is that your face?

[extramuralise]

[ Irving's frown only seems to deepen as he struggles to hide his growing dismay at Kate's situation being much worse than he'd imagined; a publicly accessible community building that boards women and men together within one large room (or so he's heard) is no place at all for a vulnerable young lady to be claiming residence in the first place, and particularly not a girl who's apparently also in danger of physical assault and violence by multiple different parties.

After all, even having just one enemy is still more than enough to put Irving off so much as considering communal housing, and he's a fully grown adult man— a Royal Navy lieutenant, for Heaven's sake! Surely this is just common sense for anyone, not least of all young women and girls. ]

Well, it doesn't seem remotely safe, given the circumstances... not only do I imagine you must experience little to no privacy while living here, nor much, if any, kind of organized security to speak of, but to be so altogether lacking in an appropriate residential division between the sexes is not exactly what I'd call decent, either. It—

[ He hesitates, aware that it's not really his place to intervene, but also: ]

I-it... must not be terribly comfortable for you, is all. [ Not that this conversation has been particularly comfortable, either, but there's not much to be done about that. ] And what's more, I'm quite sure Edward would agree.

[guidemyway]

Ruby wasn't super familiar with earth fairy tales. So even if Lalo did tell her the story it might actually be a little before she did connect the dots. At the same time, he wouldn't be the first person to call her Little Red either.

Ruby blinks at the question though. "Uh- I mean you've always had that super sunny disposition, right? I think that's kind of a thing." He did always seem awfully friendly, even with guns at the ready.

She does move to take a seat and awkwardly glances over to Chloe.

"Oh- So you think we're actually going to get fed here? That's a relief."

[guidemyway]

[Ruby rubs at the back of heard a little sheepishly.]

Well- I'm lucky I ran into the one guy who was pretty cool about it. But I guess you have a point there.

People are also maybe a little testy lately.

For totally good reason considering what's been happening.

[I mean, she for sure wasn't doing so hot with how her stomach churned in demand of more food.]

[webshootings]

Uh, not...not really. But, I know how to defend myself. You come from where I do, you get mugged a lot. My uncle wanted me to be able to handle things.

[ He doesn't want to lie to Billy but the truth is probably going to be harder to swallow. So, he just goes with the easiest thing and moves over to Billy. ]

You good? All right? Hit your head or anything?

[maintiensledroit]

"I see." There's a great deal to work through there: worry and fear and paranoia and a deep distrust of others. He doesn't try to convince her that her fears are misguided; for all he knows they might not be, outside of himself. "That's quite a burden to carry."

He reaches for the sill of one of the windows, testing the strength of it. "Well, it sounds as though you weren't exactly yourself, Chloe. What do you think you would do if you saw him again now?"

cw: corpse, body mutilation

[flanerie]

[ Lestat circles around to his cargo and loosens its binds, tugging somewhat irritably at them where cold has stiffened rope to inflexibility. ]

Half-frozen, I'm sure.

[ And, after Lestat grips the edge of the rolled up carpet and gives the side of the bundle an unceremonious boot, it's revealed to be so.

The dead man plops stiffly into the snow, drained to such pale, waxen lifelessness it's almost hard to credit he ever lived at all instead of having been fashioned as some tailor's intricate display piece. He's already been stripped of all clothing except his underlayers, which Lestat provides a swift explanation for: ]

I prefer not fumbling with layers when they're already stiff.

[ He comes around to tip the dead man onto his back from his side, frosted over brown eyes staring sightlessly up at the empty sky. The wound that killed him is a tiny thing, a set of bloodless puncture marks in his neck. Only a thin brown ring of dried blood on the collar of his thermal shirt highlights its location. Lestat frowns down at it. ]

That will have to go...besides that, what do you think? Sever the hands, set them over the eyes? Or fan them above the head like antlers?

[goingtobeunwell]

As far as he knows Ruby doesn't have the ability to light fires - or does she? Well. She clearly does have the ability to start fires, but magically would be the question. Either way he's smiling, clearly amused by it.

"I'm sure they didn't mind. Was it a cooking accident, or was it the aurora's doing?"

[fidior]

[ He should — John should forget him, forget this miserable sight, have his tea and return to bed and find whatever sleep he's able to in this miserable place. He's only still quite freshly recovered from his own illness, and there's so much that's awful; he doesn't deserve to be burdened by the dejected, gasping shell of a man who has brought all of this upon his own head.

But John doesn't leave (and of course he wouldn't, Little knows his loyalty). The firm tone, brusque and pointed, does ensnare him quite suddenly, and Edward's eyes widen a fraction, some subtle little tell of awareness. Not yet a burden, but... he might become one. And John has a point, of course; it is foolish to sit here in the cold chill. He just.... he couldn't even think about getting up and warming himself.

......Perhaps he didn't have to, for someone else has. Someone who coaxes him to move, to act, to be assisted ('whether you like it or not'), and perhaps on some level Little isn't capable of being altogether aware of just yet.... is the knowledge that it's exactly what he needs. The sharp edge of a fingernail pressing just enough to his skin to make him move, the assured no-nonsense that confronts his heavy, soft misery. Pliable, like dough — he needs to be pushed into a particular shape.

If Irving's direct instruction wasn't enough to get him moving, that last part certainly would be. 'I shouldn't think our captain would want to see you following so closely in his footsteps.' It's a pang, a wound that goes down deep and one that has existed long before this moment, and he understands. Little knows Irving understands, too. He'd been there, he'd seen it. And somewhere even under all of the weighted ache of himself, he doesn't want to disappoint this man any more than he already has.

So he moves. Wordlessly, eyes wide and wet, body slow and stumbling, but he moves. There's already wood in, and all it takes is a struck match and poking around at the log a little, tossing bits of shredded paper and old magazine, and a flame flickers and spreads. The warmth is immediate, in the cabin's small interior.

Little sits back down, staring into those orange flames and feeling them reflected back upon his own face, dancing against his wet eyes. ]

Tea is fine, [ he finally answers, still feeling far-away from himself, but he's already stopped shuddering quite so much, at least on the outside. He sits there, listening to John in the nearby kitchen area of the tiny home, and swallows hard. He doesn't deserve this man's care. ]

Thank you.

[webshootings]

[ He might say that's a comfort since Peter himself has no idea what's going on but he gets the feeling that the Doctor is used to knowing.

So, for him to not know?

He's going to worry. ]

I think I was, yeah. I remember that. I didn't really know...what to say about it or what to do about it or what to even think about it. You think it's related?

[castitas]

[ Her mouth opens and then closes. She... doesn't really know how to even respond. Like, she can't exactly argue with him. Not when he... actually has a point. The Community Hall's open to anyone, and there's definitely not much in terms of privacy. It's not super great living like this, but— ]

I... don't have anywhere else to go. [ It's quietly offered. That's the fact of the matter. Staying with Lieutenant Little had only ever been a temporary measure until things died down with Mr Hickey. It had been real nice, having that companionship and privacy and safety, but it wasn't a permanent thing. ]

A lot of people moved out on their own. But— I've never done that before. I mean, even when I was staying in the dorms at my school... and I was kind of on my own, there were the other girls. So—

[ Here she is, still here. ]

[bestsir]

[ It's a moment before Goodsir can answer, but after he finishes off a suture, he sits back and heaves a sigh. ]

It's bad. But he will live, I think.

[sputnik]

[ Louis. That's good — at least he wasn't alone. There's another question to follow up all the others; was Louis okay? He made it out okay? But Konstantin realises he doesn't need to ask; he knows Vasiliy would make sure of it.

He's a good man.

He's frowning again as Vasya coughs, eyes closed for that moment, like too much hurts. Konstantin doesn't want to risk disturbing his process (thiry minutes, that's a long time), but he can't help himself from reaching out again, placing one hand flat against his scapula, gently rubbing it very slowly back and forth. And as he listens to the other man continue, he's... once again, in some awe to the fact. Vasiliy putting in so much thought for Lyudmila's benefit — for their little homestead. The fact he's thinking about that right now, when he's coughing and dizzy and aching.

It's strange, to be so worried for someone and yet to feel some.... flutter of warmth in the face of it all. Konstantin's oddly baffled by himself, and by the equally odd awareness of the study solidness of Vasiliy's shoulder beneath his palm, the living warmth of him. Breathing in and out against his hand, coated in soot and blood and sweat, and how he can still smell Vasiliy up under all of it. ]

You'd face all of this all over again if it meant securing all those supplies, wouldn't you. You wouldn't even hesitate. [ It's not quite a tease — although something a little playful, a smile that tries to tug at his mouth for a brief moment, something that sparks a particular brightness to his eyes. No, it's not a tease, because behind that brightness is something fond and warm as Konstantin stares at him for a long moment. Has he always been this... daring? This bold? (Of course he has, from the moment he found a man sprawled out in the snow, leaking blood from his lips, and carried him back home to take care of him, never once stopping. He'd gone off to Lakeside to assist on a mission that could have taken his life. He returned, and he's constantly kept busy and strong and done all of the things for Konstantin that he can't do for himself anymore.

Of course Vasiliy would do something like this. So then why is Konstantin so... affected by it now?) ]

Most people probably wouldn't have. Risked their lives for supplies.

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas reaches over for Goodsir, wrapping a hand around his wrist. It's the only sort of thanks he can give at the moment.]

[m1895]

[ Vasiliy smiles, just barely, breaking eye contact—humble. He's been raised not to take credit for that which he does that is out of the ordinary, but it's hard now, being recognized for it by Konstantin. It's different, harder to deflect than praise from a supervisor, because he really, really wants Konstantin to think these things, in a way he's never wanted anyone to. Not this desperately. ]

I did what I had to. I know you would do the same if you could. I'm in the presence of a space hero. This is just— [ Another hacking fit. God, he's nauseous—he hopes he doesn't throw up in the mask, that if the CO poisoning manifests in that way he'll at least have enough of a warning to pull the mask to the side. He knows from experience that it's a distinct possibility.

It takes him a few seconds to catch his breath enough to speak again, focusing on the warmth of Kostya's broad, masculine hand over his shoulderblade. It's good, that he doesn't know what this does to him, even now, even when he's lightheaded and more exhausted than he's ever been in his entire life. ]

It's just smoke. I wasn't that close to the fire.

[m1895]

[ Vasiliy takes none of the syrup—sugar, or anything sweet in tea, isn't a taste he was raised to have (just lemon)—but he does take the offered mug with a quiet word of thanks. ]

I have known them at police station, when I was EMT in Chicago. Good dogs, very smart, loyal workers. They were not like Mukhtar. I have not owned any dog before, no. Neither has Konstantin.

[desperate_times_right]

You and I have very different definitions of comfortable, I think.

[desperate_times_right]

“Nope,” Chloe says, peeling a board back with a grunt. “Haven't lived in one place long enough to put down roots in a long time. We grew little plant babies at school once though.”

Hers had died but that's not important.

[bigbaddy]

[ Even in the middle of the terror invoked by the approaching Darkwalker there is some relief in seeing both of them. Bigby doesn't know what he would have done if either of them wasn't around - let alone if both of them would have been out. He would have had to drag himself out of the house, even though he doesn't feel well enough to be on his feet out there, let alone with the atmosphere currently hanging over town.

But it's fine. That wasn't the case. Even if this situation is still awful, even if Bigby doesn't have a clue where the Darkwalker is headed, whether that thing isn't coming right for their house.. At least Snow and Connor are here. There's so many more people in town he ought to protect-- no, wants to protect, but it's them above anyone else. It's the two of them that are only his responsibility, after all.

So when Snow sits next to him and grabs his hand, Bigby allows it. There's not even real fluster about it, like there's no room for that emotion anymore in the middle of everything the Darkwalker invokes. Instead he just squeezes her hand - thankfully not painfully so, but it's a pretty intense squeeze all the same, despite Bigby's lack of energy.

His shared look with her is only broken by the arrival of Connor. Bigby can't forget him. Sure, Snow is the love of his life, and he's wanted nothing more than to protect her since way back when he was still a wolf, but-- Connor is his kid. He may seem on the older side in human years compared to most kids, but to a Fable like Bigby Connor really does just look like a kid. His son.

For once he doesn't really think about the implications of seeing so soft and close with Connor right in front of Snow. It doesn't feel important now. Keeping Connor safe is the only thing that feels that way, and he gestures at him with his free arm. ]

C'mon.

[ He gestures at the empty spot on his other side, and if Connor sits down on the bed, Bigby will wrap his arm across the kid's back, pulling the cub against his side. The man winces a little at the pressure, considering his wounds are still pretty raw, but doesn't mind it. Keeping Connor close is much more important right now. ]

You two okay?

[ They're not. Of course not. No one is right now.

But maybe he's just trying to get a better idea of their state. If he's already feeling this terrible, this terrified-- then how much worse must it be for people who aren't the Big Bad Wolf? ]

[bigbaddy]

"I get it. Pretty sure neither of us want anything to happen to that guy. He's a good one."

Not that Bigby may have interacted a whole lot with Goodsir necessarily, but-- he went along with Bigby's whole wolf story while only looking confused about it, rather than disgusted, so that's enough for Bigby to lump the man in with that category.

"But we have lost a shitload of people ever since we first showed up here."

[notarat]

He shakes his head. Realizing Jopson wouldn't be able to see when he's sitting on the other side of him, he turns his head a little so the fading bruise spread across the side of his face is a little more visible to the other, like someone definitely punched him in the face during that period of darkness.

"Similarly, though-- It is already healing. And I have had worse."

A knife in your back does put a whole lot of things into perspective in that sense.

"It could have ended a lot worse for either of us, given that some in town have passed." Were killed, more like. "We were lucky this time."

There's a slight pause. He hesitates more on saying the next part, but-- he does kind of want to say it to someone. To get it out there, rather than letting it fester within himself. And maybe Jopson might understand, given that he's used to the same world and the same standards as he is. Maybe the hint of kindness nudges the words out of Billy. "I was-- .. worried," he confesses, snuffing out the small flames dancing above his hands by moving the palms of his hands against each other. "I have found it difficult to control the strange abilities this place has given us when we get emotional. I worried that if someone pushed me too far, I might have set them on fire without wanting to do so."

[notarat]

...

Well. That certainly isn't great news. Especially while they're still out here, and while the cover of darkness makes it really hard to tell whether or not there's more threats nearby. Billy's hands move to wrap his coat a little tighter around him, despite his fire powers.

"So what happened to the inhabitants of this place before us was.. this? They were all driven mad into killing each other due to the Darkwalker's influence?"

That thought sure doesn't bode well for them, Chloe! Billy doesn't like it!

[solitarysoul]

Levi nods, Goodsir seems like a good guy.

"Yeah...when everyone was new here a doctor helped me, but he...I-I don't know, disappeared or died or whatever not long after that. We haven't seen many people die, but we've lost a good amount." And he assumes they've all died.