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.
It Speaks; ota
He knows all these things and more. No one needs to remind him. He’s lost enough sleep thinking about it himself, but the voice is incessant, and it won’t shut up. ]
Sorry, you see, I--
[ He’s taken up refuge with his guitar and amp, strumming chords loudly every time the voice starts in again, just to drown it out. ]
Can’t—
[ Another chord, deafening and metallic. ]
Hear you!
II. [ Eddie is exhausted, but the voices have’t broken him just yet. It certainly helps to know just who you are and fully accept all of it, even the ugly bits. Eddie has never worn a mask, and he’s never hesitated to admit his flaws.
Others don’t seem to be having quite as good of a time. By sheer luck (it’s not lucky at all, really), he stumbles upon one of those people, dangerously near to the edge of the cliffs. He inches closer and reaches out a hesitant hand, like he's approaching a wounded animal. ]
Hey—uh...maybe you wanna come away from the super steep cliffs...
i
You know, like someone playing the guitar. Loudly. It's an odd enough sound that Bigby can't help but go look what's up, a part of him ever the sheriff, even outside of his own community.
Though when he finds Eddie like that, strumming the guitar and loudly speaking up between each sound, he can't help but frown. Like an angry neighbour who just can't take the neighbourhood kids partying too loudly. ]
What are you doing?!
[ Please, are we not suffering enough here already without guitar sounds.. Clearly Bigby is not appreciating music over here. If you can call the loud strumming that, anyway. ]
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As Bigby approaches—well, his mere disposition reminds Eddie so much of the Hawkins chief of police that he can’t help but glance around nervously, like there may be something illegal out in the open. There isn’t, and laws here are flimsy, if non-existent, but old habits die hard. ]
Practicing.
[ He replies simply, as if it should be more than obvious. The voice takes the brief reprieve to nag at him again: It should have been you. Eddie starts his strumming again and shouts over the noise. ]
Not a fan?
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Though honestly, Eddie is spot on with the kind of impression he's getting from the guy here. To a point where Bigby doesn't do as much as blink when he notices the other glancing around like that while he's approaching - like he's used to getting that sort of reaction.
Though he doesn't even dignify that question with an answer. The answer is probably obvious anyway, just from how Bigby looks kind of Done. ]
Look, if that sound were to chase the wolves away from town, I'd tell you to keep playing. But I'm pretty sure it's only going to draw them in even more. [ It shows there's people here, after all. And the wolves seem to be behaving so odd lately - like they're drawn towards people for some reason, rather than away from them like most wolves normally would be.
Not like Bigby realises that Eddie's music might have a whole lot more to do with something else going on in this city other than the wolves, though. ]
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[ Eddie isn’t stupid. The wolves worry him too--they terrify him, actually, and he really doesn’t want to go from being food for mutant bats to being food for these abnormal wolves. He knows from the literal two times his uncle managed to wrangle him into going camping that noise will drive away most animals, including wolves, but that doesn’t seem to be happening here. He wouldn’t normally be so flippant about such a dangerous situation. It’s just that the voice is so loud and so irritating, covering it up is Eddie’s only real focus until something else comes up.
He clenches his teeth as the voice tries to penetrate the silence again, and he goes back to strumming, albeit slightly quieter this time so he can continue to speak to Bigby. ]
Besides, there’s more to draw them here than this. Nothing about this place is exactly quiet.
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[ BIGBY. Please. Even if it's a valid callout, maybe you could've kept that one to yourself there, buddy..
Then again, it's not like he's ever been the most skilled conversationalist. This is par for the course, really.
Though Bigby at least remembers to exhale instead of just getting angry. He's trying so hard here. Especially when Eddie still looks relatively young. Practically still a kid, especially in mundy ages. ]
Look, just tell me why you're doing this. [ Bringing out the Cop Voice. Sorry, Eddie, you really nailed this guy on the first impression.. Especially with the way Bigby crosses his arms too as he says it. ] You get that things are dangerous, so.. why?
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Yeah, you’re right. Since we’re being honest…plenty of offense intended.
[ There’s no malice in his words. It’s just the tone of a kid who’s used to being a bit of a jokester and a bit of a rebel. The cop voice makes him raise his eyebrows, but he keeps up a steady strum of the guitar as he tilts his head and considered whether he wants to tell him anything or not. ]
Man, I’d normally say you’d think I was ten types of screwy if I told you, but considering where we are? I’m hearing voices. Not like, in my head, but kind of...right here.
[ He pauses his strumming long enough to gesture to the space between his ear and his shoulder. ]
It’s sort of annoying, really. Just kind of wish it would shut up, you know? The music helps.
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So rather than remarking anything about that, Bigby opts to focus on the more practical part of all of this. Which means, in this case, just bluntly saying-- ]
We're all hearing voices.
[ If it wasn't for the fact that Bigby has been so serious this entire time, it might almost have seemed like a joke, considering the way too serious and quick delivery of something that - on the surface - sounds so ridiculous. ]
The ones that are telling you to just screw off? Yeah, you're not the only one, kid. [ Bigby, please, Eddie is technically already an adult, you know-- ] Just another fucking annoying thing about this place, apparently.
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The old “we’re all mad here”, huh?
[ He rolls his eyes and clenches his teeth as the voice tries once more to intervene, but he physically waves it off, like one would wave off an annoying buzzing fly. ]
Yeah, believe me, I am well acquainted with the annoying shit. Just hope this one gets lost sooner than later.
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[ At least it doesn't sound.. entirely unfriendly. Sure, it sounds a little gruff all the same, though pretty much anything that comes out of the man's mouth seems to carry that sort of edge to it, as if it's natural.
But he does mean it as actual advice. Not that he doesn't want all this noise to stop, but that just makes it a win-win solution, right. ]
Don't tell me you haven't gotten to know anyone here yet.
[ .. Maybe a little hypocritical for Bigby to say, given his own anti-social tendencies..
But, look. Eddie is younger? He's clearly got to have at least a little bit more going on socially, even in a place in the middle of nowhere as this. ]
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I know plenty of people, dude. I’m not a shut-in.
[ Granted, the person he feels he knows best doesn’t even remember him from home
just wait til this event is over and he realizes he’s straight up gone too, and that makes things pretty upsetting, but he’s formed fledgling bonds with others. ]And I’m not about to jump off a cliff or anything. I’ve already nearly died once, so…I’m handling it my way. ‘Kay?
[ He heads back into playing, shifting to another tune to drown out the pesky little voice. ]
Now if you’ll excuse me…
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(Oh, Bigby, ye of little faith..)
On the other hand, he figures he really isn't going to get the other to pipe down more than he has so far, and it's not like Bigby feels like flipping out over this and breaking the instrument or something. Maybe he would've in a more dire situation, but.. as it is, they're probably fucked anyway, music or no music.
So rather than getting angry, he just seems a little exasperated as he just replies with a: ]
Sure, kid.
[ He might've as well said whatever. His tone sure seems to indicate as much.
But Bigby does turn on his heel and leave after he says that - leaving Eddie to play in peace. ]
i
For the most part, Hickey's done a decent job pushing back the running commentary of intrusive thoughts in his head, thoughts that have been directing him towards the cliff, towards the knife, towards the cold. If this thing wants him dead, then he must be some shade of important, right? He must scare them.
That being said, the deafening music almost instantly jolts those thoughts out of Hickey's head as his entire being turns to 'what the fuck?' He saunters over to where Eddie is, frown on his face, as he looks at the kid, listens to the guitar, then realizes, ]
You're that prick who woke me up a few nights back!
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Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, dude…
[ The voice worms its way into his ears again. He grits his teeth, growls, and slams his hand down again over the strings, hard enough to hurt. ]
But if I didn’t wake you up, the aurora would have. And personally? I think the wakeup call I gave you was just a bit more pleasant.
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[ Because as far as Hickey's concerned, that's what it was. Noise. Not music, not a concert, not a wake-up call, just a round of noise that woke him up and scared the living hell out of him for a solid few minutes. ]
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Music. Do you mind, dude? I know it’s not up to your standards, but it’s helping this—
[ He waves his hand vaguely near his ear. ]
Other noise.
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You're not the only one hearing them. But those aren't a problem for me. I know they're lying.
[ says the man already delusional but hey, Eddie don't know that. ]
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Great. So you can keep dealing with your voices in your way which is pretty clearly denial, dude, and I—
[ He forces a grin, more defiant than kind or humorous, and picks up his strumming again. ]
I’ll handle it my way.
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I simply know myself and know my surroundings. And I know that whatever this is, it isn't real.
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[ He grins, and now he has something else to focus on. This is apparently becoming a recurring theme: Eddie just fucking around with people because it’s kind of funny. He’s not a malicious person, but he’s a mischief maker, and it’s really hard not to poke at these people. ]
Well you know, man…
[ He begins slowly, plucking idly at the strings in something that a more modern, pop culture savvy person might recognize as the Batman theme song. ]
That makes me not real, meaning you could just will me and my noise away if you tried hard enough.
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Yeah, right.
Unfortunately, Eddie is about to learn that out of all the Terror boys, Hickey is currently taking the crown for 'biggest shit.' He looks over at Eddie, looks down at his guitar, then reaches over to attempt to pinch him very hard on the arm. ]
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[ Of course that hurt, and of course Eddie is going to do what any mature adult would do.
He reaches over and pinches Hickey's arm in retaliation. ]
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I will bite you, dude. I don't care how nasty you probably taste.
[ He looks gravely serious. It’s the good old kindergarten approach: you do something I don’t like, I’ll bite you. ]
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Come now, we've still got tins! We've still got preserved goods! Wait until after those are gone before resorting to other sources of meat.
[ He is blatantly giving Eddie shit, teasing tone in his voice. ]
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