it must be that old evil spirit

[singmod]

SEPTEMBER 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — PAINFUL REMINDERS: An Aurora briefly connects the Interlopers to their homeworlds, and with it are able to receive items from home — but these ones will bring no comfort to them.

PROMPT TWO — THE ENEMY WITHIN: Strange and familiar occurrences begin in Milton and Lakeside, growing in frequency and danger for the Interlopers. Who can truly be trusted among their numbers?

PROMPT THREE — BAD BLOOD: The Forest Fighters finally come to Milton, and with it: they bring the yawning grave.

PAINFUL REMINDERS

WHEN: 5th - 9th of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially upsetting themes; themes of loneliness/isolation.

For many, the sight of the Aurora is now one they have become used to. There have been plenty of them over the year that has passed since the Interlopers first came to the Northern Territories. Often, they have been a sign of great danger, with plenty of unsettling and unnatural things happening when the skies light up. Other times they have been the herald of aid — a link between Interlopers and Enola, gifting them with abilities to help them survive in this world. There is no real knowing what kind of force the Aurora is, truly. And there is a tension that holds amongst the Interlopers as the day turns to night and there is the soft sound that grows louder.

The ethereal, high-pitched chorus of sounds, is difficult to place. Perhaps it sounds like voices, or discordant strings. And with it, the low-drone of electrical buzz — punctuated with the echoing pops and sharp cracks. The sky is alive with sound, and with it comes the swirling streaking of colour against the inky black of night, growing brighter and brighter as time goes on — greens, blues, pinks and purples shifting and dancing across the night. And much like every Aurora before this one, the electricals of the world come to life too. Homes, streetlamps, cars long-stranded in the snow. Man’s world comes alive, buzzing and flickering precariously.

But there are no ghosts like there once was a year ago. No terrible weather, no poisonous fog. If one could call it a ‘normal’ Aurora, that’s what it appears to be. But there is something else in amongst all the light and noise. Snatches of things: whispers of conversations, names called, laughter and tears.

You realise you recognise these voices. They are the voices of home. Perhaps you hear your mother, your siblings or friends. Whoever they are, you can hear them. And although they might not be able to hear you — for one brief night, the Aurora has connected you, bridged the gap between your world and this one. You may sit for a while, simply listening to the voices, relishing in hearing those from back home. If others join you, you will find yourself compelled to speak of them: to share in stories about those from back home — the connections you share with them.

It’s strange, though. These voices do not fill you with comfort or joy. Instead you are left with feelings of sadness, anger, and isolation. The Aurora has connected Interlopers, but now you feel so cut off from home, cut off from friends and loved ones — reminded of everything left behind. Everything you long for. Everything you have lost.

Something strange skips through the sky, a warping of the sound. It’s unsettling. Something feels... wrong, somehow.

It’s not just the voices that will remind you of this. Something else comes through the Aurora after that night. A small token will be brought through. Whatever the item may be, when you go to sleep and next wake, you will find said item. It may be placed on your bedside, on your desk or dining room table.

The item, you will find, will bring you a reminder of pain. Of sadness. Of horror. Perhaps it’s something you haven’t thought of in some time. Maybe it is something that has lingered in the back of your mind. Perhaps it is a part of you, waiting to be uncovered. A sign of something to come. A painful reminder of your past, or an ominous omen of your future.

THE ENEMY WITHIN

WHEN: The month of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: kidnapping/attempted kidnapping; attempted murder; murder; vandalism; arson; assault; animal mutilation; corpse mutilation/manipulation/desecration; themes of peril/terror; possible character/npc injuries; possible character/npc death.

It starts with strange happenings at night, things left to be found by the next morning. Those within Lakeside many find themselves unsurprised by it, given their location, but the scenes found in Milton are a foreboding sight.

Mutilated bodies of animals: rabbits, ptarmigans, even deer — mangled and strewn about the streets, blood upon the snow. Some may awaken in the middle of the night to the sounds of their windows breaking, with houses on the Outskirts being targeted more than those in the middle of town. There is… a kind of unrest in the world.

It escalates.

Some may leave their home for the day and return in the evening to find the place trashed: items broken, precious foodstuffs thrown about the place and destroyed. Those within the Outskirts are once again particularly vulnerable, as are those within Lakeside. Fires are started in some of the abandoned buildings of Milton. Something, someone is targeting the Interlopers.

It is hard to pin-point who exactly, and it only puts the Interlopers on high alert. Nothing like this has never happened before. This is new, especially in Milton.

As the month progresses, the acts become more serious. Fires may be started in the middle of the night in Interlopers’ homes while they sleep. Some are attacked in the night, others are taken from their beds. Some killed within their very homes. Of the Interlopers that go missing, their mutilated remains may be found days later out in the wilds.

In Milton, soon enough, someone is bold enough to come out from the darkness, out from the gloom of the night. Interlopers may be attacked in broad daylight — by those they may recognise as newer Interlopers of the community, who appeared from the wilds: lost and shivering, with nowhere else to go. Some of them have been within Milton for a few months now.

Those in Lakeside will face something similar: Forest Talkers are making a move, rogue and isolated incidents — done with sabotaging attempts at hunting and taking a more direct approach.

They have no qualms about being captured or killed, only determined to get rid of as many of the Interlopers as they can. They whisper, they scream: “You don’t belong here. You should never have come here. It wants you gone, it wants us all gone. The end is here, it’s too late for any of us. Nature must run its course. The yawning grave has been opened.”

The attack is on two fronts: the first of Forest Talkers in Lakeside amplifying their actions. The second in Milton, enemies within the ranks of the Interlopers, Forest Talkers hiding as Interlopers.

Within Milton, newer Interlopers will likely be met with suspicion as being some of the Forest Fighters as a result of these individual acts of violence. As the numbers of Milton have been infiltrated, and it’s easy to have mistrust amongst those newer to the community. In-fighting is likely, and the entire town is stuck in some terrible, tense state — unsure of who to trust within their own numbers. In the days and weeks that follow, it remains like this. Acts of violence and vandalism — chaos and disorder.

BAD BLOOD

WHEN: The night of 27th - 28th September.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: attempted murder; murder; vandalism; arson; assault; mentions of blood; themes of peril/terror; possible character/npc injuries; possible character death/npc death; actual NPC death.

Towards the end of the month, the moon is full. They call it the Harvest Moon, but colour seeps into it — oranges and reds: a blood moon, partially eclipsed. The night is calm and cloudless, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the night.

The earth groans, the rumble of another quake that’s plagued the Northern Territories since the beginning of August. It is the only warning Interlopers will get — if they may realise it as a warning. To some, when they look back, it’s a omen, a starting pistol.

They do not come through the Mines. Thanks to the efforts of Interlopers to guard the entrances of the Milton Mines, they know better. They come to town from the south, not the north.
The quakes of August and September have opened a new way from Lakeside to Milton. They are led by their Leader: a man dressed in white, a large deer skull upon his head. And while their numbers are small in comparison, they come armed and with the determination to get rid of the Interlopers once and for all. As they come into town, they launch their attack.

More fires will be set, Interlopers will be attacked with abandon. Shot at, stabbed, beaten. It is a mass execution. They will not stop until the Interlopers, or them, are dead.

Well, the majority of them. There are just under a dozen teenagers and younger people amongst their ranks who have shown hesitance toward violence in the past. Perhaps they can be reasoned with. Perhaps there may be a way to convince them to abandon their cause. There is fear in their eyes. Some of them do not want to die. They fear the yawning grave.

What will do you then, Interloper? Are you willing to fight for your life? Are you willing to take another’s to save your own, or a friends? Will you hide, or run? What choice will you make? The Forest Talkers have long since made their own choice. Now you must make yours.

It is another night of chaos on a town already scarred by the events of June. Interlopers will note two familiar faces in the fray: at some point during the night both Methuselah and Young Bill will arrive. While Methuselah will concentrate on aiding the wounded and trying to shelter Interlopers the best he can, Young Bill will help protect Interlopers from the Forest Talkers with his rifle in hand. But fortunately, it is just for one single night. Ammunition runs out, sides are switched, and people are killed. As dawn approaches, Forest Talker numbers dwindle. Either killed, incapacitated or defected. In the early morning light, bodies lie in the snow both Interloper and Forest Talker alike.

Those trying to hunt down the leader will see him slipping inside an empty cabin, heavily wounded. Following after him, they will find him settling himself down to kneel on the floor. The white of his tactical gear stained red with blood as it blooms from his wounds. Slowly, he removes the deer skull from his head to reveal a clean-shaven man in his late twenties with a shock of white-blond hair. His eyes are blue, calm.

He sets the skull down, panting and sweating. He is dying. He is not afraid.

“My name is Mallory, not that it matters now. We are dead, you and I.” he says softly. “We exist in a dying world.”

He is in much pain from his wounds. He moves again to sit cross-legged on the floor. A hand touches the bloodied fabric of his front and he laughs humourlessly.

“You don’t understand, do you? The end must come. That is the order of things. The end must come so the world can be reborn. That is how it’s always worked. When the world is swallowed, it will grow again from the earth.”

It is a story. The story of the Darkwalker. Some believe it to be the end of the world, but Young Bill had once said there is another telling of the tale. A creation myth. The Darkwalker swallows the world and returns to its slumber within the earth. Within it, everything its swallowed grows again and the world returns.

“We fought against man’s actions to ruin this place, not knowing our true purpose. The Devourer has shown me the truth, and I sought to put that into action.” His head tilts to one side. “The yawning grave is opened. Does new life not grow from the decay? It is a cycle. The grave and the cradle.”

He finds it difficult to breathe, but he presses on.

“You fight to live. You come here and you do not see what you are. You are only delaying the inevitable, perverting the true course. Prolonging the suffering. You are the Interlopers, you are not part of nature’s design. The Darkwalker does not want you here. And where it fails, we have tried to succeed.”

There’s another laugh, something catching in his throat. He coughs, blood bubbling from his lips.

“And failed. For now. The First Cursed cannot hold it forever. She, too, delays the inevitable." Even as he is dying, he still have the energy to sneer. He speaks of Enola. "A woman who plays at being a god. What right does she have? All must go into the Long Dark. ... As will I. Return me to the grave.”

Mallory’s head dips, his body sagging. He inhales once more and then stops.

FAQs

PAINFUL REMINDERS


1. Players must sign up for items. See the toplevel on the plotting post.

2. Items will face the same warps/nerfs as everything else that is brought into the game.

3. Items can be no bigger than something your character can reasonably carry.

4. While items do not have to belong to your character, there has to be a good reason why they’d receive such an item — ie. something related to your character.


THE ENEMY WITHIN

1. The Forest Talkers within Milton are a number of NPCs that have been pre-selected from NPCs who arrived in April and August. Not all of them will show their true intentions as the month goes on but will continue to stay hidden.

2. Two NPCs killed in the June Event were also Forest Talkers. … Good… job?

3. The following NPC Interlopers will out themselves as Forest Talkers at this stage: Devon Busswood; Rita Yee; Realm Lovejoy.


BAD BLOOD

1. Following the events of this prompt, Interlopers now have an additional way into Lakeside. It’s still rather dangerous: it’s through a partially collapsed cave system that ends into abandoned bunker on the Lakeside side. The game map will be marked accordingly in due course.

2. Some Interlopers may recognise a familiar face in the Forest Talker ranks: the man who was kidnapped by Interlopers previously in July has returned. Looks like he made good on his promise. He's come back to cause problems.

3. The following NPC Interlopers will out themselves as Forest Talkers during the attack: Jackie Blackmore; Ross Huguet; Jennifer Kitchen; Daniel Kresco.

4. As a reminder of numbers: around fifty Forest Talkers will show up for the attack.

5. There is an OOC vote on the fate of the remaining Forest Talkers, the link is here.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[thesamurai]

"Why, you upset I got here first?" Fucking Forest Talker; she's angry she thought otherwise, even for a second. Her hand goes for the katana pull, but just as the blade makes its light sound against the sheath, she remembers the Doctor, not long ago.

He'd left, then returned, then left again with his coat and she'd called after him, tried to ask what he was doing when it was dangerous to go out. All he'd said was something about a 'Thomas' and that thought collides with the delayed realization of the man introducing himself to her.

"Fuck, you're the one he's looking for." Her hand leaves the katana. "Thomas."

[lieutenantsteward]

He nearly protests, he nearly turns and fights, but the impact of her words hit him harder than a katana ever could. "What do you mean? Where did he go?" he wonders, whirling around. "Of course he's looking for me." Of course he chose this day for it, when Thomas was out and about.

He looks up to the sky for a moment, letting out a long breath, the relief flooding through him. The woman obviously isn't a Forest Talker if she recognizes his name. Which leads to another very obvious question.

"You know him? What are you doing here"

[thesamurai]

"I live here."

Michonne's gaze levels at him, still tense, but because of the overall situation, not because she thinks he's a Forest Talker. "Only been a few days, a week or so. The days blend together, couldn't tell you for sure anymore." She lets out a breath, trying to force her shoulders to relax.

"He looked like he was going around the lake when he left, muttering something I couldn't hear—with no coat—came back about ten minutes later, then left again with the coat. Still talking to himself. I could barely get him to acknowledge me before he was out of sight. Lucky for you, I did."

This is more than Michonne's said to any one person at once in the entire time she's been here. More than she's even said at once to the Doctor, since their initial meeting, and they're sharing the same space. They seem to live around one another, haven't had more than one deep conversation. And yet, she saved his life, and now she has some kind of fondness for him.

"You two are together?"

The Doctor never said as much but, two people looking for one another as the danger builds? She can put the pieces together.

[lieutenantsteward]

Something like fear flashes in his eyes and he shakes his head automatically, then pauses.

There is so much to think about here. The Doctor has someone he lives with already - that's the best news he's heard. And judging by the way she moves, how she acts, she can take care of herself. And the Doctor, hopefully.

He can't trust her, but the Doctor certainly does.

That will have to be enough.

"In our way, yes," he finally answers. "If he's searching for me, he isn't far. I'm only around the lake. Come on. Maybe we can find him."

[thesamurai]

In our way is all she needs to hear, whatever else doesn't matter and it isn't any of her business. And if the Doctor trusts him...well, the man seems like he'd trust anyone first and ask questions later, but her gut isn't screaming. Nothing is telling her to be wary, and so she forces herself to stare at him and assess, make a decision.

Her only answer is to roll her eyes and turn to start walking.

"The fuck are either of you doing out alone in the goddamn snow in the middle of this bullshit that's happening? No one here ever heard of the buddy system? He-" she points in the direction they're going, meaning the Doctor. "-won't even carry a real weapon."

She looks at Thomas, doubtful. "Can you fight, at least?"

[lieutenantsteward]

He follows along. "I can handle my own," he assures her, vague in a way that he can't describe. I've put a noose around a neck, I've been ready to kill a man, I've held a gun so long that it feels natural.

"I protect him while we are together," he tells her firmly, his jaw set as they walk. "And I've spent more time on the ice than nearly anyone here."

He doesn't know why he feels he needs to defend himself to her. Maybe because he wants to protect the Doctor, his Doctor. Maybe he needs to convince himself.

[thesamurai]

"Good for you." She says it flatly, but after living with the Doctor, she doesn't not mean it genuinely. Michonne glances over at him, listening to nothing but the crunching of snow underfoot before finally speaking again.

"I saved his life. He fell through the ice a day or two after I got here. Heard him shout."

She doesn't mean it as a challenge to Thomas's ability to take care of his man, and she softens her gaze to at least show it. She has no stake in the Doctor, except that he was kind to her in turn, and she can't just ignore that.

Something Thomas says though, triggers the memory of a prior conversation.

"You with that crew? The one stuck on the ice back home?"

[lieutenantsteward]

He mutters something under his breath that might sound like "idiot," but he'd never admit it. He doesn't see it as a challenge, but as a reason to trust her even more. He's grateful in a way he can't express.

"I was," he agrees. "We - " he shakes his head. "We are our own selves now. No longer a crew, no matter what they tell themselves."

[thesamurai]

When Michonne looks at him again, there is some kind of understanding there in her eyes; it's dark, maybe he doesn't see it in the reflection of the night sky's lights in the snow, but it's there nevertheless.

"Been there."

And she doesn't elaborate on what it means to lose a group, to go from a crew to trying to survive as the numbers dwindle. Until you're the only one and you don't know what you're fighting to live through anymore. She's been there. Not stuck on ice, but part of a group while knowing that the numbers don't matter. Survival was on her.

"But they'll always be your people." Even if they're gone.

[lieutenantsteward]

Some of them will. Some of them can be. While he's forgiven Little for leaving him, a part of him severed that contact, that companionship, with them when he watched the sledges leaving him. It isn't fair to hold onto that sort of resentment, but he can't stop himself.

"I suppose so, miss," he answers as diplomatically as possible. "It isn't something I like to recall."

[thesamurai]

"Michonne."

She doesn't ask, she doesn't prod because she doesn't know him, and it isn't any of her business. But she does correct him, because she has a name, she'd rather he use it.

"How long have you known him?" She changes the subject back to the Doctor, the more important topic, anyway. "He's uh..." Michonne tries to think of a complimentary word.

"...Talkative."

He reminds her of Eugene, and she's learned how to deal with that: tune out and listen for keywords. But it isn't a bad thing, the reminder.

[lieutenantsteward]

Thomas isn't good with names, but he commits it to memories. He'd rather use titles, addresses, anything except names. It makes him feel less - attached to them. But he's done it now with Francis, with Edward, with Harry, and he's given the Doctor his own title.

He can extend the same courtesy to her.

"Five months," he answers. "And yes, he's always been like that. He had a shriveled carrot in his pocket and offered to help me check my traps. I don't think he stopped talking the entire time."

And Thomas loved every damn second of it.

[thesamurai]

Something about the anecdote makes her snort under her breath, and she looks over. There might be a small, barely there hint of a smile on her lips, but it's dark, so it could be a trick of the light. Still.

"I never met a uh...person from another planet before. Not what I expected. Thought aliens would be less familiar looking. You know?"

Or maybe she's the only one, but regardless:

"He doesn't like fighting, does he? Couldn't get him to take a weapon for shit." So he's a talker and a lover, not a fighter. She's known people like that.

Most of them are all dead in a world that forces people to be fighters. But she can look after the Doctor, at least, and she's glad he's got Thomas.

[lieutenantsteward]

"No, he is not a fighter," Thomas answers, but he doesn't see it as anything but an endearment. "Not with weapons, at least." He raises his head towards the darkened skies, watching the clouds there for a moment.

"But he is extraordinary in better ways," he muses, forgetting, for a moment, that she had threatened him with a katana.

"And I never - considered anyone from another planet."

[thesamurai]

"He's smart." Smart is as important, maybe more than, knowing how to use a weapon.

Something deep in Michonne's chest shifts and flares in pain but she ignores it, ignores the note in her back pocket that she couldn't burn. The one that says her love doesn't want her to come after him, never did, and that he's giving up. Thomas can't know it feels like salt in a wound to hear so plainly the care in his voice for the Doctor, but she won't make this moment about her, so she says nothing to that effect.

"Until he told me, I never considered it either. Never figured we were the only planet out there with life, but never thought it was possible to know for sure, either. Not in my time."

As they trudge around the lake, she looks for footprints that haven't been shifted around by recent snowfall or wind. "If this place can pull in a man like that, not even from a version of the same planet, there was never any hope for the rest of us."

And now they're caught up in some alternate world's bullshit against their will, and there's an idiot out there alone who doesn't use weapons, so she can understand Thomas's worry.

[lieutenantsteward]

"There are so many from different sorts of times and earths and planets, but it is difficult to tell where the divergence would be. Many have heard of us and our expedition, but not the actual story."

He fans out a little, still within eyeline and earshot of her, and searches the ground and the trees for any sign of their Doctor.

[thesamurai]

"What was the mission? I only know of a couple on ice or in snow that...went bad. One of them was on a mountain." Her voice is just loud enough to carry to him.

She thinks they're generally on the right track, she just has no clue how far ahead of them he is. He has long strides, he was intent.

"And where would he go? If he's looking for you in this direction, should we head toward a specific place?"

[lieutenantsteward]

The second question is more important. "Back to my cabin, perhaps?" He points in the direction they're already walking. "It's just there, around the lake. He did tell you why we cannot cross over the lake, didn't he?"

Because he'd rather not have to fish her out after that shock.

[thesamurai]

"Fucking hopefully." Hopefully. The Doctor doesn't strike her as a very predictable man even in the short time she's known him, but maybe Jopson's right. She wants to believe he is, because that would make this so much easier.

It takes a second for her to realize what Thomas is talking about, what's in the lake.

"You mean the 'foul-beast with a bit of an attitude problem?' Yeah. He said they're working on it, and I don't know if I wanna know what that means. Learned not to ask a lot of questions."

It might be too dark to see, or maybe the moonlight catches her just right, reflected off the snow, but there's something like a smile tugging up the corner of her mouth.

[lieutenantsteward]

"Is that how he described it?" he laughs, unashamed to be amused at The Doctor's expense. "It is a great beast that comes from the lake if you try to cross. It demands a sacrifice, whatever you have on you, and will not leave you be unless you give it up."

Thomas only experienced it once, months ago, and has kept away from the center of the lake since then. It doesn't seem worth going back.

[thesamurai]

It's actually...nice to hear Thomas laugh, even in the face of things going to hell around them. It's the way she's gotten through thirteen years of the world being over: sometimes, you have to laugh. You have to, and then hold onto it, if you can. She's glad the Doctor has Thomas, and vice versa. She didn't mean to care, didn't think she would get attached to anyone, but she cares that the Doctor has someone.

"Shit, he really undersold it." And she knows what it would take from here, and she'd never give it over willingly.

"You think he can do it?"

Said as her gaze lands on footprints that look like someone sprinting; not a full-on run, but enough to be far ahead of them.

[lieutenantsteward]

He shakes his head, coming across the footprints. "Those are his," he confirms. "Headed for my cabin, but - "

He turns a bit in a circle, as if he can spot the man in the darkness.

"Let's follow them," he finally decides.

[thesamurai]

The way he trails off leaves her feeling unsettled, though she doesn't ask him to finish. Does't want him to entertain the bad that comes with the end of that sentence. The Doctor's fine. He just is.

Even before the end of the world, Michonne has listened to whatever instinct she has about a situation, and it's never been wrong, not when it was this strong. When the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, she holds out an arm in front of Jopson.

"Hang back a second."

She doesn't know what it is yet, but something makes her think they should wait.

"You hear anything?"

[lieutenantsteward]

He shifts his grip and glances over his shoulder. "Wolves," he tells her in a whisper, his breath coming in a burst of steam in the night air. "Real ones." They haven't been this close in a while, but they must have followed prey here. Or were driven their way by the Forest Talkers.

[thesamurai]

"Shit." She draws out the 'i', accompanying that with a hard 't' at the end in her frustration. They don't have time for wolves, and it's been a long time since she's had to take down a wild animal with her katana. And even then, it wasn't fucking wolves.

"You have a gun?" Michonne asks in a whisper, instinctively moving so that her back will be to his, katana gripped in front of her.