methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2023-09-09 11:30 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2023-09-09 11:30 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- barbie: zelly,
- bigby wolf: jelle,
- bucky barnes: gail,
- callisto: iddy,
- castiel: noodle,
- clayton epps: thalia,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- din djarin: cosmo,
- eddie munson: hannah,
- edward kenway: effy,
- edward little: jhey,
- erichthonios: fey,
- grace marks: bobby,
- harry goodsir: karin,
- holland march: chase,
- joel miller: noodle,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- ken: laus,
- kieren walker: cheryl,
- levi jordan: cirape,
- max briest: justine,
- mohinder suresh: anna,
- nie huaisang: marlowe,
- nikolai lantsov: eden,
- number five: kayla,
- remy "thirteen" hadley: kaye,
- rorschach: shade,
- roy kent: cathy,
- simon "ghost" riley: milk,
- steve harrington: katy,
- takashi shirogane: terra,
- thomas richardson: beth,
- vash the stampede: fen,
- zoey westen: bri
extinction is the rule
SEPTEMBER 2023 EVENT
PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: AFTERSHOCKS: The Aurora comes, bringing chaos to the town of Milton. Electronics go haywire, and the Interlopers learn of the original citizens of Milton.
PROMPT TWO — THE HOUR OF THE WOLF: Tainted by the Aurora and attracted to the noise of people inhabiting the town, several packs of wolves descend upon Milton.
PROMPT THREE — IT SPEAKS: A voice comes to the Interlopers, one that knows them and their darkest fears and deepest insecurities, persuading them to fade into the Long Dark by any means necessary.
THE AURORA: AFTERSHOCKS
WHEN: Sporadic nights over the next month.
WHERE: Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural horror; ‘ghost’ horror; hauntings; death of npcs in various ways including suicide, murder or exposure to elements.
After the feast, and making sure the newcomers to Milton are seen to, Methuselah packs up. He will explain to others that while he will return to check in, he is no resident of Milton and will not stay. He is a nomad, something he has been all his life. He lives in nature. That is where he belongs. But he does assure that people are welcome to remain sheltered in the Hall if they wish to. And sure enough, the old man leaves, wishing the newcomers well. He can still be found out in the wilderness, and will shelter and feed those out exploring should they come across him.
And so the days and nights of this world roll on. The initial time of those who have come to be stranded in this world is unsettled. The weather is always changing, even if it remains bitterly cold. On some nights throughout the next month, however, the snow clouds clear and Interlopers are given a rare, clear night. At first, it’s beautiful: without the light pollution, all the stars can be seen, the moon casts an eerie glow upon the snow in the dead silence of the night. One might even say there is a kind of peace that comes with it all. And for some of these evenings, they pass by: uneventful and silent — the long darkness of an endless winter’s night.
But on others, it isn’t so uneventful. The noise starts: faint at first, but then growing louder. Something in the heavens above. An ethereal, high-pitched chorus of sounds difficult to place. There’s a kind of electrical buzzing with it all, a low, endless hum punctuated with cracks and pops that echo. The sky is alive with sound, louder than anyone could ever expect it to. With it comes the swirling streaking of colour against the inky black of night, growing brighter and brighter as the night goes on: The Aurora has come.
And it isn’t the sky that comes to life too: the whole town does too. Streetlights, illuminating the town’s roads; lights in stores and homes will come alive, buzzing and flickering often. Previously abandoned cars will turn on, their headlights blaring but faltering. Electronics that had previously seemed broken flick on — and whilst there are no broadcasts available on televisions, and the radio waves only drone on in static, both only occasionally blaring standard emergency broadcasts. Any computers and phones will turn on, but will have no internet or reception. Instead, Interlopers may find texts and emails — many of them unsent. The everyday lives of their users stored within, now readable.
But there’s something else too. The Aurora doesn’t just awaken the electronics of the town. Dotted around, in the streets, in homes, in stores, the lights of the Aurora begin to take shape: spectral-like forms of people, their faces hard to make out, details difficult to define. They move in glitching patterns, they speak with voices distorted by static. Eagle-eyed Interlopers may recognise the forms of some, a body or an action:
These are the residents of Milton, in their last moments on this earth.
The forms act out short scenes on repeat: a desperate fight between two men over a vehicle, a murder in a store during a riot, a suicide alone in one of the many houses. An argument over the communication lines going down. A sobbing teen curled up on his bed. A child stares up at the skies, their hands over their ears, crying in fright. A woman begs for her father to leave his home and head to the coast with her, to try to make it to the mainland, but he refuses to leave. A man succumbs to the cold walking alone in the outskirts of town without proper clothing for the elements. Several of these ‘ghosts’ are people fleeing before they stop and simply gasp, staring off into the distance for a few seconds before they drop dead on the spot.
There is nothing that can be done to stop these endless loops. Nothing to help these poor souls. Each of these moments are captured by the Aurora: final, desperate and tragic moments in some unknown, chaotic time. Some of these ‘ghosts’ maybe stop after so many loops — flickering out into nothing, others will last all night. But all will be gone by the morning and the Aurora comes to an end. There are answers, and there are none.
THE HOUR OF THE WOLF
WHEN: Sporadic nights over the next month.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: (wild) animal attacks, altered wildlife, possible character injury/death, possible (wild) animal injury/death.
The growing presence of people within the town of Milton has meant more light, more warmth, more noise. The Aurora has created great change, but people are not the only thing the ethereal lights in the sky has brought down upon this old mining town.
When the sun slips below the horizon, and the clear skies of burnt embers and inky blues alight with stars, they come.
A lone howl, long and haunting. It is the first signal, which carries on the air. You can’t seem to place from which direction it comes from, it feels like it encompasses you. Then another voice joins it, and another, and another. A chorus of them. As the sound echoes off, another fills its place: a strange feral chittering, snarling and snapping — the drumming of feet upon the snow, heading right for you.
Wolves.
Unnatural, glowing green eyes in the dark — tendrils of light seeping from them as they rush in and encircle those they come across outside. They come in packs of three or more, and they are clever. They’re quicker than any wolf you’ve ever known, bigger and hardier too. They will try to strike fast by zipping in when you’re distracted, snapping and nipping at legs or trying to take quick bites out of arms before drawing back. They work together to bring their prey down, a solid unit of noise and teeth. They will hunt down those who hide inside, try to claw their way inside of homes and buildings — dead set on finding you and tearing you apart. There is no hiding from them. They will find you.
But breaking the pack can send them back. If they’re broken, their morale is depleted. Fire is your biggest friend: torches, campfires and flames will keep them mostly at bay and only the bravest of these packs may attack. Striking them with flares or flames will actually send them into brief retreats. Bullets and arrows are effective with both noise and injuring the wolves, and although hitting one will be difficult due their speed, it’s possible. Killing one of these wolves will dissolve the pack’s morale entirely, and the rest will flee off into the night.
Until next time. Maybe it’s best you don’t stick around. They do hold a relentless determination.
IT SPEAKS
WHEN: Over the next month, possibly longer.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: psychological horror; mental manipulation; themes of suicide; themes of depression; potential self-harm; potential feelings of isolation; potential attempted suicide.
There are whispers. Small, at first. Distracting. Perhaps it is only the wind you hear. Milton is so quiet, even with the new hustle and bustle of the new people to this place. Wood creaks and the trees rustle, there are plenty of sounds you could mistake it for.
‘Interloper.’ It is an old voice. Something deep and dark and ancient. Something impossible, older than the earth itself. It floats into your ears and nestles there, sending an ice-cold shiver down your spine. Even to the most stoic and unshakeable souls, it is a unnerving voice. It feels wrong. It feels like an ending. To hear the voice is deeply unsettling... and yet... you recognise it.
It comes to you, in the dead of night when sleep is far. In the long stretches of day as you go about your business, as you travel across the frigid landscape or gather firewood or try to pass the time within whatever home you’ve made for yourself. For some the voice will be clear as day, for others it may be some distant whisper — something gently murmuring in your ear. But the voice will be heard, no matter the person.
‘Interloper. Do you know what it means?’ It asks. ‘It means one that involves itself in a place it does not belong. You do not belong.’
That it isn’t the only thing it tells you. For everyone, it’s different. It knows you. It picks up on any weakness, any insecurity. It makes you feel small, insignificant. It tells you all the quiet, terrible things you hide down within yourself. For days, weeks, the voice is there. Speaking to you. It will wear you down, insist you are not wanted, that you do not belong here.
... And wouldn’t it be better if you weren’t here at all?
The voice seeks to break you. It will push you to your limit. Sleep will become hard to find, your spirits low and hollow. In time you might seem to believe it. Maybe it’s better if you weren’t here. You don’t belong in this place, why should you stay?
‘Disappear, Interloper. Go into the Long Dark.’
Perhaps you next find yourself atop the steep cliffs, looking down into the Milton Basin below. Perhaps you find yourself with a gun in your hand, or a rope. Perhaps you find your feet carrying you out into the snow. You’re going to disappear. You’re going to go into the Dark.
Or maybe the voice isn’t so loud. You can push it down, ignore it. Perhaps Faith is what keeps you steady, perhaps knowing who you are despite your faults stops the voice from taking over. Maybe you can help those who can’t block out the voice. Words of encouragement, affirmation, kindness, determination, even spite. The voice wants you dead, but you will not let it. You will not fall. You will not let anyone else fall, either.
FAQs
1. While examples are given, players are encouraged to come up with their own ghostly loops of similar loops. The key thing to remember is that the people of Milton have descended into public disorder. Fights, arguments and murders have occurred, as have suicides or other unexplained deaths. People are frightened. They want to leave the town.
2. Ghostly loops cannot be interacted with, only witnessed.
3. There is no way of putting these 'ghosts' to rest. These loops are more like residual memories, as if the energy of the townsfolk remained, and have been reconstructed by the Aurora.
4. The wolf attacks and Auroras occur on sporadic nights over the course of the next month, with the Aurora being the first thing, then the wolves. It's unlikely you'll get both on the same night. While the wolves are attracted to the Interlopers' activity, the Aurora's light and noise will keep them away from the town during Aurora Nights.
5. Sharp-eyed Interlopers may notice that the 'ghosts' of those who are staring off into the distance before gasping and dropping dead are looking skyward, towards the east.
1. Due to the Aurora's influence, these wolves are harder,
2. Wolves will return, sometimes more than once on the same night, or on other nights during the month. The only sure-fire way to have them stop coming back is to kill the pack.
3. Wolf meat is technically edible. But not advised due to parasites. Characters are still welcome to harvest the wolves they kill, however.
4. The wolf attacks and Auroras occur on sporadic nights over the course of the next month, with the Aurora being the first thing, then the wolves. It's unlikely you'll get both on the same night. While the wolves are attracted to the Interlopers' activity, the Aurora's light and noise will keep them away from the town during Aurora Nights.
1. Characters can be talked down and broken from the voice's influence by others. Genuine connection and empathy will work massively, but even encouragement and affirmations to keep surviving will be powerful enough to break the voice's hold.
2. Players are welcome to play with the length of time the voice can be heard with characters. Some may want to have it over a short space of time, others can have this progress over a longer time period.
3. The voice can come at any time over the next month.
The Aurora: Aftershocks
If not for the flickering electricity in his chosen house, Five may never have noticed the Aurora. Too busy pouring back over notes he’s made over the time he’s been here— Day 33, by his own personal count. But the lights get his attention. The soft electrical hum that comes with the sudden resurgence of power, like in the wake of a storm that knocked out the power. He’s sure it was more than just a storm that led the town of Milton to its haggard state.
Still. It’s an intrigue if nothing else. He starts checking the electronics in the house— the tv provides no help, except a stock standard emergency alert that comes through the haze of static occasionally; the long-dead phone he’d given up hope of ever accessing the contents of holds nothing particularly interesting except an unsent message that reads:
The other contents on the phone are typical, shopping lists and photos of family or vacations or whatever else people might just have lying about in their phones. Nothing spectacular, nothing notable. But the unfinished text… that digs under his skin. ”It’s coming.” he’d almost bet that’s how that statement would have ended, had the sender had the time to finish it. That or ”It’s happening again.”, though neither of these assumptions make him feel any better (and assumptions are all they are, he has no basis for it, it simply seems the most logical conclusion of the sentence to him).
Eventually, he will wander outside to investigate the state of electricity through the rest of the town, and make his way to the community hall to discuss these new developments with others.
With the brilliant burst of color and screeching sounds of crackling thunder come strange, spectral visions dotted around the town. Each scene is played on repeat, some sad sucker stuck playing out their final moments on a loop they can’t escape.
Five can be found wandering the town to investigate these mysterious phantoms, furiously takes notes in one of the journals he keeps on his person at all times. He writes basic descriptions of the people trapped in this neverending loop of misery, any dialogue he can make out during a scene, and any other significant pieces of information he might later find useful.
Find him wandering through the town, barging into houses or public spaces seeking out as many of these ghosts as possible. He isn’t interested in trying to help them— they’re already gone, but they are somehow refusing to be forgotten, and Five intends to unravel the mystery of it all. He’s seeking some kind of noticeable pattern in the scenes being played out, so if you want to compare ghost notes? He’s definitely your guy!
the strange haunting of milton
Vash has been transfixed by the scene from the moment it appeared, his heart breaking for the little girl who cries for her mother and desperately tries to shake her awake to no avail until eventually she just drops dead right next to her. Vash knows what it's like to be in the girl's place — unable to do anything to save a mother figure — and it makes him tear up as the scene repeats itself again and again.
It's only when he hears the front door swing open that Vash snaps out of it, promptly realizing he'd gotten too distracted and forgot to lock the door behind him. Panicking, he glances around for a place to hide when his gaze lands on the couch and the space behind it, big enough he can probably squeeze himself in there. It will have to do. There's no time to go rushing into another room without being noticed. As silently and quickly as he can, he moves from sitting on the floor to crawling towards the couch. His efforts turn out to be in vain when the largest of the five wings he's grown knocks over a potted plant and the sound startles him, causing the other wings to stretch and go akimbo in his surprise. They knock over a side table and the lamp on top of it with a loud crash. What was meant to be a stealthy slink behind the couch turns into a noisy ruckus as he all but frantically skitters out of view, sending a few feathers flying in his wake.
So much for going unnoticed.
"Oh, shoot-! ...Uh, hello?"
He might as well call out when his presence would have been impossible to miss just now.
no subject
Though, the only real indication of a reaction for a moment is a raised eyebrow as he takes in the mess of a man in the room.
“Hi…” he draws the word out slowly. “Have you seen any weird visages here?” Just gonna cut right to the point, very businesslike.
no subject
Out of any question Vash might have been expecting to follow that, the one that gets asked isn't it. He blinks owlishly and straightens a bit, raising more of his head above the couch since it's clear his fellow intruder is unperturbed by his looks.
"... Um, over there." He says slightly nonplussed, raising a hand to point in the direction where the apparition finished its loop mere moments ago. "It's gonna start again soon."
no subject
So, once he has the answer in hand, he marches over to where he's told the apparitions will begin their loop again. He watches it all as it plays out with the same sort of distance a scientist might have on his mouse-subjects in an experiment, scribbling notes in a notebook in his hand.
no subject
Should a kid even be watching any of this? It's debatable, but this apparition is not nearly as gruesome as some of the others and from how singularly focused the boy seems, Vash gets the distinct impression nothing would sway him from watching the scene unfold. Rather than try to dissuade him, he lets curiosity get the better of him instead.
"What are you trying to learn?"