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]

"I'm not sure."

There are more comforting answers he could give here, really. Especially when Bigby is at least relatively sure they won't be back quickly, for one.

But he's not really the sort of guy to reassure others. He's bad at it, for one, and he'd also not want to give anyone a false sense of security. It's the last thing anyone can use in a dangerous place like this.

"They're not acting like normal wolves. Something is up with them." Even if Bigby has very little idea what that is, making the man shake his head as he turns to look out of the window again - still no sign of the wolves returning, at least, which is good. "And their behaviour being so erratic means that they could end up doing basically anything for however long this goes on."

[fanoperator]

"Nothing here is acting normal," Huaisang says with a tired sigh. He desperately wants to curl up under the covers and hide from everything, but he doesn't feel like he can do that just yet. "This place. It infects everything, and kills what it can't infect. We have wolves back home, in the mountain region where I live. They're dangerous, especially in winter, especially in packs, but they just want to live. Just like everything else."

Rising to his feet, Huaisang gazes off out the window, even though he's far enough away from it that he can't really see anything but snow and trees. "But sometimes the natural creatures get infected by a source of resentful energy. It warps them, whether it's monster trees or stones or wolves. But it's not unusual for it to be wolves. Because they're carrion animals. They're more likely to go to areas with resentful energy, or to consume something that ... that's infected, so to speak."

[bigbaddy]

...

For a moment the man is quiet, but then he lets out a slow and low hum, as if to indicate he's listening.

There's something vaguely ironic, after all. He knows Huaisang is just being helpful by clarifying all of this, but there's nothing more ironic than an actual wolf getting a lecture about what wolves are like. At least he doesn't necessarily disagree with anything Huaisang is saying. It's not like Bigby was particularly worried about what he ate back when he was more wolf than human, after all.

"So you think it's some sort of.. energy that's doing all of this?"

See, that's the part Bigby can actually learn about here. It feels like there's so many possible options as to what could be wrong with the wolves that he'll gladly learn some more about certain possibilities, just to see if he can confirm or rule them out later.

[fanoperator]

Huaisang has to consider the question, not immediately certain what he does think. He's still not used to people asking for his thoughts on anything or treating him like he's competent. "I don't ... know. Maybe. A miasma, a possession, an enchantment, it could be all sorts of things. I think it's some kind of unnatural influence. The angry voice calling us interlopers, seems like that's the sort of thing that wants us dead and would be more than happy to influence some wolves toward that end. Normally I'd be able to sense energy like that, but since getting here I can't sense anything. And I don't know if that's relevant, either."

[bigbaddy]

Guess what, Huaisang. You are being taken very seriously here. Sure, Bigby doesn't have time for nonsense, but none of this sounds like nonsense to the man. Especially when this sort of thing was very much possible where he comes from, so the idea of it being possible here doesn't seem strange to him in the slightest.

It means he's regarding Huaisang with a pretty serious look as he's overthinking it, only speaking up when the other arrives at that last part.

"I'm not sure if you've spoken with other people about that," he starts, like a preface, "but it seems like that's something that's happening all across the board to people who have some sort of stronger sense. There's also some stuff I'm supposed to, uh.."

.. how to word this. Especially when Bigby is still a little uneasy about admitting as to what he really is, a part of him instinctively wanting to keep up the Fables' secret even in a place that's so far away from home.

".. 'sense', I guess. But I also haven't been able to do that since the very moment I showed up here."

[fanoperator]

Huaisang nods, brow furrowed with worry. "I think it's ... I think it's significant, that we were stolen here and our powers were stolen from us and ... we were brought here, but the only entities we've encountered are Metuzhele who says he's not involved but has at least helped us as best he can, and the Interlopers voice that hates us. The voice wouldn't bring us here. It wants us gone from here in any way it can manage, and has accused us very specifically of invading. So there's something else that brought us here. Something else that wants us here, or just some rippling natural force that's dragging us across the boundary like a massive tide."

He shakes his head, trying to boil down his point. "What matters is that there's something doing things that the voice doesn't like. Whether it's an ally to us or an unconscious force, we need to figure out what it is, in this place, that holds power separate from the voice. Then we can use whatever or whoever that power is to help ourselves--and help the wolves, probably, hopefully."

[bigbaddy]

".. good," Bigby replies.

It's just that single word at first, but.. by Bigby standards, it's actually a whole lot. He usually doesn't go out of his way to compliment people, after all. And while some people might struggle to call just saying good a compliment, it really is meant that way here. It's approval.

"The way you're thinking isn't so bad." Not to mention that - with some guidance - Huaisang can handle himself in an emergency situation. That, combined with some actual braincell activity going on, are traits someone needs to survive here, Bigby thinks.

It's also something they need more of.

"Speaking from your experience from back home, have you got any idea how to figure out what it is, or some way to track it down?"

Bigby understands they all come from very different places, after all. It's an easy concept to grasp when he himself crossed the border between worlds long ago, way before ending up here.

And if the places they all come from are different, they might need to put the knowledge they can get from each together to see if they can do anything at all here.

[fanoperator]

It's big praise for Huaisang, who is used to people ignoring him and thinking of him as useless. He flushes and ducks his head shyly, but the question gets him focused and thinking again.

"Metuzheleh said it was the 'au-zhro-leh'," Huaisang reports, utterly confounded by the repeating r sounds of 'aurora'. "The lights in the sky. That's what brought us here. But he didn't say anything about whether it was doing it on purpose or an automatic thing like tides. I didn't ask, but from what I overheard ... he didn't want to talk about it. Where do the lights in the sky come from, do we know? I've never seen anything like them before."

[bigbaddy]

Thankfully this is something Bigby does know a thing or two about. He might not know a whole lot about.. well, spiritual energy or whatever, but even he knows about certain natural phenomena. Having wandered all by himself in Europe for a long, long time helped with getting some very personal experience with that, anyway.

"It's supposed to be a natural phenomenon. Something about.. I dunno, light reflections and the atmospheric conditions or whatever."

Don't ask him to explain the technicalities of it. Bigby just knows that it somehow works, and that it isn't magic. That's enough to know, right.

"But it might be something else entirely in this place. I'm pretty sure this isn't the same world as any of us were in before we ended up here." Which means anything is possible. Bigby knows just how huge the differences between worlds can be, after all. Just compare the Homelands to Earth. There couldn't be a bigger contrast.

[fanoperator]

Huaisang shrugs helplessly. That information doesn't help him, and he's not sure what else he can offer. "I don't know, then. I can't sense anything, so I can't track this thing. But I think it's worth ... talking to it. If we can figure out how. Not the lights in the sky, I don't think, but anything we can find that might link back to it. And the angry Interlopers voice that's angry at us. It could be our ally, if we can convince it of that. It wants us gone and we also want us gone. But it seems like its goals will be achieved if we die, but we need to figure out how to go home, which is more difficult. So we survive, and look for a way, and convince the angry voice that we'll just keep surviving just to spite it unless it helps us leave alive."

[bigbaddy]

"Look for a way to get in touch, you say."

There's more Huaisang is saying, but this is the point that feels the newest to Bigby. He had considered pretty much everything else already at certain points, but he hadn't really thought about trying to talk to that weird voice they heard.

It's not a bad plan, even if it feels like they're going on very little leads right now.

".. well, you let me know if you do manage to find some way of getting in touch with it, and I'll do the same. Or if you need someone to accompany you while you try to contact it, then you can let me know too."

Look, Bigby is well aware that he's pretty good at being the muscle, okay. Might as well use that, especially in a situation that could help them get out of this place and go back home.