extinction is the rule

[singmod]

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

THE AURORA: AFTERSHOCKS

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.

THE HOUR OF THE WOLF

1. Due to the Aurora's influence, these wolves are harder, better, faster, stronger, than typical wild wolves. They do not die as easily, and are much more difficult to wound and kill. But not impossible. Scaring the wolves will be far easier to accomplish.

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. Who would say no to a cool ass wolf cape.

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.

IT SPEAKS

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.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[bigbaddy]

[ All of this is at least a little more normal to Bigby than it is to Roy - but to be fair, with the basis Roy is setting here, it's very easy for all of this to be a little more normal.

Especially when you're used to dealing with supernatural beings on the daily.

Granted, it's not quite as often ghosts, and especially not these kinds of ghosts. If Bigby has ever interacted with any ghosts, they sure were a lot more.. interactive like this, let's say. There is something eerie about just watching these people repeat their deaths over and over, even to him.

And it's while Bigby is wandering the streets, wondering if there's some explanation for all this to be found, that he spots Roy there--

-- and the way the guy is just talking to that figure. ]

Y'know, some people might call trying to talk to these things the first sign of insanity. [ Just saying.

Also, yes, clearly the most normal thing to speak up with. Bigby is great at this social thing, thanks. ]

[finefurryfella]

[ Roy does a menacing slow head-turn towards the other man that's usually very intimidating, but not so much when the recipient is just as big (and hairy) as he is. He's about two seconds from firing back the fuck did you just say to me before he decides against it because when he really thinks about it, the stranger has a point. Since he is pretty much talking to himself, no response from the ghosts, he probably has lost his marbles. ]

Sounds about right. If I had a football here, I would have called it Wilson by now. [ Hopefully the other man understands that Castaway reference, even if it's a volleyball in the movie. He adjusts the joke to his interests - probably his only interest - which is football. ] But then if I had a football, I wouldn't be insane in the first place, I'd be putting two teams together for a kickabout. [ Coaching them, drilling them...

God, he misses his job. He really is a pathetic bastard with no life. ]

Is this shit normal to you? [ Roy waves a vague hand in the direction of the ghost falling to its death - again. ]

[bigbaddy]

No.

[ It's a relative quick answer, even though it's not really that easy of an answer for Bigby. After all, he's pretty sure this is more normal to him than it would be to most people here - because he's still assuming they're pretty much all mundies, unused to seeing actual ghosts.

But the entire 'deaths being played out on repeat' thing? Yeah, that's new for him. It's why he can say that 'no' so convincingly - it's not really a lie when he's never seen this specific scenario either.

Usually he'd address something about that football statement, but considering the situation.. Well, he's got something else to focus on for now.

(But he's making sure to remember it for if he runs into Roy again later.) ]

I think it's got something to do with the Northern Lights. Ever since they showed up, everything here started going to hell. [ A slight pause, and then adds: ] Well, more so than they already were, anyway.

[ Not like this is exactly a great place to be, between the cold and survival and the lack of anything to do other than surviving. ]

[finefurryfella]

Right, those lights. I suppose we should be grateful we got to see them when idiot holidaymakers spend a shit-ton of money on the experience so they can fucking brag about it when they get home.

[ Roy has Strong Opinions. Apparently he's got a problem with people spending money on travelling to see beautiful sights. Why? Because he's a grumpy bastard. ]

Fuck this Northern Lights trip from hell.

[ He wishes he could just leave. In most situations he can't stand, he'll declare 'fuck this' before storming off, but this time he can't. He has to look for answers by working with strangers, which might be the most daunting part - using social skills. For someone who likes to get by each day speaking the least amount possible - communicating by growling and glaring - he's screwed. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ Honestly, Bigby gets the sentiment. He may not be as entrenched enough in the mundy world to fully know about Northern Lights trips and vacations to Scandanavia and all, but he can relate to Roy's grumpiness over this.

There have been few things in this place Bigby hasn't been grumpy about ever since arriving here, after all.

It's why the sigh he lets out sounds more like agreement than him being exasperated by the other's attitude. He gets it, dude. ]

I know everything about this place is fucking annoying.

[ See? He gets it. ]

But at least this means there's something going on here. Maybe we can use it to figure out what the hell is even going on with this place, and how to leave it. [ It's not even him trying to be positive, really. He's not the type.

This is just him really wanting to go home already. ]

feel free to ignore, I've just come back from vacation

[finefurryfella]

You mean play detectives?

[ Personally he's not a fan of mysteries. The idea of an escape room is his worst nightmare, and this is practically one big escape room. ]

I'm not good at puzzles, but I'm happy to play bad cop. [ Give him someone to interrogate and he'll be aggressive and threatening. ]

Roy Kent. [ He introduces himself, always his full name as a force of habit because thinking about himself as just Roy makes him spiral into a life crisis. He holds out his hand for the other man to shake. ]

haha, i just came back from my own, so it's all good! <3

[bigbaddy]

.. Bigby Wolf.

[ At least he'll give his own name in return, despite not being the most social of people - but Bigby has realised that the only option they've really got in this town is to all put up with each other.

He can't survive on his own, for better or worse.

He reaches back for that hand to shake it. ]

I think we might have a problem on our hands though. You see, where I come from, usually I'm the bad cop. [ Pretty literally so, too.

Not that Bigby specifies as much out loud though, instead waiting to see the other's reaction. ]

[finefurryfella]

Fucking hell. [ How do you respond to a name like that? Probably not by asking - ] Are you a pornstar? [ Which goes to show how much porn he's watched. ]

Don't see the problem with us both being bad cops. [ He says with a firm handshake. ] We'll probably get shit done quicker that way.

[ Roy can think of a perfect example of a good cop: Ted Lasso. Ted would bring them baked treats... Is it weird that Roy misses his optimism?

Definitely weird. Downright disturbing, in fact. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ ...

Roy.

Roy.

Forget the whole good cop bad cop thing. Bigby is still too caught up in that initial question, especially since he sure can't see the problem here. This truly is the issue when you're actually a giant wolf just trying to fit in as a human, and the look he's giving the other guy is truly just half-confused as hell, half-offended as hell. ]

A pornstar? Why the hell are you asking that?

[ What kind of stuff are you into, man? ]

[finefurryfella]

[ He can't be the first person to make fun of this guy's name, can he? Or is he the only one brave enough to say it to his face? ]

You really don't think your name makes you sound like a pornstar? [ This is definitely backfiring on him because he's acutely aware of how much he might sound like some kind of sex freak if he explains why. ]

You might as well be called Bigboy Alpha... [ He raises his hands in defence, just in case Bigby decides he wants to fight him for that comment. ] No offence. [ Too late for that by the looks of it. ] Some fans call me Roy Kunt if that makes you feel any better.

[ It probably doesn't. He also doesn't sound annoyed by the nickname, like he's proud of it. ]

[bigbaddy]

What?

[ No, clearly no one has said this about his name before. Bigby looks confused enough for this to be totally new to him - even if Roy's assumption here isn't entirely unfounded. ]

No, it's just my name. [ A name he had to adopt when he couldn't just keep going around as a wolf, so it's a little more recent than most other things about him, but still. ] Is that really the first thing you think about when you think about wolves?

[ Uh oh, Roy. Suddenly this is being turned around on you. ]

[finefurryfella]

What? No, fuck off.

[ If he sounds defensive it's because he's suddenly wondering if he does have a wolf kink. Well, not exactly a kink for wolves, but maybe he's looking to be the "alpha" in his next relationship. Maybe that's why it never worked with Keeley because she was practically an alpha herself. Maybe he's happiest when he's bossing someone about... Who does he currently enjoy bossing about the most in his life? None other than—

Oh no. His brain did not just go there. Not to Jamie fucking Tartt. This is the most disturbing train of thought he's ever had. ]

Let's never talk about this again.

[bigbaddy]

[ ...

You see this, Roy? You actually managed to stun Bigby into silence for a moment. Not because this is intimidating or anything - please, what could be intimidating to a man who's got such a persistent case of resting grump face as Bigby has - but because it's just.. way too confusing. ]

Wait, let me get this right. You say my name sounds like a porn star's, and then you suddenly say to never talk about this again? [ Yes, the implication here is very much 'my dude, you started it!!'

It's not even particularly subtle, given Bigby's tone here. ]

Also, don't act like being into wolves is a weird thing.

[ That's PERSONALLY offensive!! ]