singillatim | it must be that old evil spirit

it must be that old evil spirit

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ In the middle of the night, he doesn't have the time cover up his face or put in his contacts when the attack begins. He barely has time to get properly dressed, pulling on a hoodie, gloves and his boots over his nightclothes, along with a snood to cover the majority of his face. At least in the darkness of the night, no one'll be able to see him that well.

And he just... throws himself into it. As much as he fears everything going on, how familiar it all feels. How he was lost in his fury and hunger last time, and the hurt he caused. It has to be different this time. It has to. He guides people to safety; tears through the snow at speed to distract the Forest Talkers.

The sound of screaming just joins the rest of the chorus, as does the sound of it dying out into silence. Kieren draws near, only to be met with the sight of a still twitching but silent lump of blood. It's... it doesn't look a person anymore, the arm that doesn't rest how it should — jutted out and hanging awkwardly even in the snow, and mess of gore around his head that makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He can taste the blood in the air and he clamps his mouth tight.

And the sounds— Kieren's drawn in with morbid curiosity. A strange shape on top of the body. Kieren doesn't have the words to describe it other than creature. He's never seen anything like it, not in real life. Maybe in movies, like some kind of— holy shit. Is that what he thinks it is—?!

It... well, it's sort of like a worm. But it's not inside, right now. Which means— where's Konstantin?! Kieren can't do anything for the man(...? he thinks) but he draws in slow, pulling the fabric from over his nose and tucking it under his chest. ]

Hey.

[ Never having seen Kieren face to face before, the creature doesn't instantly recognise him by that alone, and so the disturbance is initially met with a wave of alarm. Those slurping sounds come to a quick halt as it lifts its head and stares at the boy, tensing, all eight eyes glittering in the darkness.

For a long moment it just watches him in some almost comical sort of stun, and then instinct kicks in, its alarm presenting as hostility. If there's any chance this stranger is going to try to interrupt it from its meal... It needs to keep feeding while the hormone is potent in its victim's bloodstream.

In a few moments, if Kieren happens to speak again or if it catches more of a whiff of his scent, it might recognise this strange not-quite-human, but for now it thinks he might be a problem. So its hood flares and it flashes all of its tiny needle-like teeth right at Kieren, emitting a sharp, reedy hissing. It's almost catlike — Stay back!

In the darkness, the mess of brain tissue and blood continues to glisten wetly. ]

[ Admittedly, this is... actually kind of horrifying. But then again, most of the shit in his life is just horrifying in general so it just... makes sense that more of this sort of thing is gonna keep happening. Still, there's a whole lot of trepidation as the thing hisses at him. And the... teeth. ]

Pack that in. [ He snaps back, even if there's a low tremble in his voice. ] I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?

[ Honestly, he's not sure if that's what it's worried about. Or if Kieren should be more worried about the thing hurting him. Which would be... really shit. His brain's one of the few things in him that actually works.

He hesistates a long moment. God, this is some of the weirdest shit he's ever encountered in his life. Is he really just... talking to an alien right now? That's mid... uh, snack? ]

I'm Konstantin's friend.

[ Something halts its initial kneejerk reaction of hostility and the need to try and make itself appear like a threat. The human (or what the alien is at first assuming to be a human) doesn't scream, doesn't run. Even if his voice holds that slight tremble, the boy stays where he is. Talking to it, the way some humans have before. That's still such a new concept for the creature — to be talked to. To be addressed.

It seems to understand that it's being spoken to, as the hissing comes to an abrupt halt, and its awful little lamprey-like mouth closes, and it just stares at the other for another long moment. And as it does, some things are realised in the darkness — the odd almost animal-like shine to Kieren's eyes, too-pale, too-light.

Those aren't human eyes. The creature thinks of Louis, with his brilliant green pair flashing, and although its direct encounters with the human species are still very new and it is constantly learning about them, it knows that this entity is "like Louis". As it breathes in the scent of Kieren, it also realises that he's "like Vasiliy".

And that it knows that particular scent, and particular voice, even if it's only ever sensed those things through its host. It's... the young thing that feeds on similar sustenance to its own. The alien's almost startled to come face to face with this being now, and the hostility is quickly melting away in favour of curiosity.

It isn't eager to leave its meal, but it can't refrain from moving closer. It crawls a bit down Gord's body, sitting up on the man's stomach, tail curling around itself almost catlike as it stares at Kieren. Then it tilts its head and emits an inquisitive little trill. You?? ]

... Yeah. Hiya.

[ Oh. This is so weird. It's risky. Way too risky than he'd like. But he's hoping with the meal right there, Kieren'll be in the clear for being dessert. Besides. Not tasty. Not in the slightest. But he crouches down, hands out in a defensive gesture.

Slowly, he removes one of his gloves — exposing the grey-pale skin of his hand. He doesn't even know if the thing sniffs, per se. But he reckons aliens will have some degree of a sense of smell. He holds it out, please don't bite his fingers off. ]

See? Friendly. Kieren. [ His eyes flick up behind the creature. He recognises the mess of a man, trying not to look to hard toward his head. One of the newer Interlopers. ]

Couldn't have killed one of the bad guys, no?

[ He cringes as he says it, but it's true. Shit is going fucking mental here. ]

[ The human(??? human-looking thing?) crouches down closer, and the alien tenses for a moment, before nudging closer to that exposed hand. Its experience getting physically closer to Vasiliy has taught it much about human behaviour, what certain things mean. The boy doesn't mean it harm, has made himself smaller and more accessible, offered a non-threatening hand.

And so the creature takes up that offering, pressing its face close to Kieren's fingers. It doesn't quite sniff, but it is taking in information with its senses. And it's immediately fascinated with how this human-thing smells. Vasiliy smells... wrong, strange, like something that isn't alive but also isn't actively rotting, either. And this boy is a lot like that, maybe a little different in ways, but... close enough. Very close enough.

An intelligent entity with a capacity to learn and a drive to, the little alien starts examining the boy's hand with more enthusiasm, its hood rippling curiously. It gives little grunts and chirrups, before seeming to want to change gears and examine his other hand too, for some reason. So it crawls over towards the other side of Kieren's body and peers at his arm expectantly. Give.... ]

[ Kieren keeps as still as he can. He's waiting for something to kick out, his chest tight with that anxiousness that the thing might not like what he smells and just freak out on him. He's not about having his own face-hugger moment, thanks. But the opposite of that happens, and Kieren's silently watching in a kind of tense curiosity. This is... going surprisingly well, he supposes.

Maybe he doesn't smell all that gross, after all. That's... great. And the creature wants his other hand now, and Kieren blinks — a little dumbfounded. ]

Oh. Oh, alright. Here. [ He offers the other hand for it to look at, this time he keeps the glove on. He's quiet again for a little while, just watching. There's still plenty going on around them, though, and Kieren knows this place isn't exactly safe right now. ]

Listen, uh— [ Shit, what does he even call this thing. ] Listen, mate. I... I dunno how long you've been out, but I know you can't stay out long. I think we might need to get you back to Konstantin, yeah?

[ As soon as it's offered the boy's other hand, the creature's examining it carefully, feeling the material of his glove, patting up and down his wrist a bit. Interesting... Very interesting.

This human(?) does smell very un-appetising, but like with Vasiliy, that only makes the alien's curiosity about him grow. It's fixating on him, but then Kieren says the word Konstantin, which the creature has learned refers to its host.

It instantly perks up, frill lifting with recognition, tilting its head attentively as all eight eyes continue staring at Kieren with that odd intelligence. Konstantin? What about Konstantin? ]

[ Yep. This continues to be the weirdest experience of his life, and that's saying something considering Kieren's entire deal and well— this place. The creature's been chomping down on some poor bastard's brain but acting like some puppy who's got the whole world before it. Cute. In a weird way.

But then Kieren's expression is widening when the creature understands the name. Well shit. ]

Yeah. [ He nods, a little exaggerated in the movement. That's right! Konstantin! ] Konstantin. Where? Where is he?

We need to find Konstantin.

[ The creature perks up again, head bobbing up into the air like a snake, every eye continuing to be fixed on Kieren as he repeats the name yet again. Konstantin. This time, the alien chirrups almost excitedly; it understands. The boy is communicating with it.

Its head turns around as it lets go of the boy's hand, looking pointedly in a certain direction. It doesn't quite grasp what Kieren's asking, but it knows where Konstantin is, and so answers the question that way regardless. The man's not far away, unconscious in the snow behind the corner of the building that the alien's staring at. It chirps again, excitable. Konstantin, Konstantin, Konstantin, it's familiar, it understands.

(And all of this simply makes its 'opinion' of Kieren higher, this strange human-shaped being that's speaking to it like this...) ]

[ Okay. Okay, yeah. This is good. The thing definitely knows what Kieren's talking about and he's looking a little relieved at that. And he's lifting his gaze, following the direction the creature gazes. His eyebrows raise a little as he tilts to one side, trying to see if he can pick out the shape of the man in the snow.

Looks like they're going to have to go searching. ]

Right. Okay. Okay. [ Kieren's nodding. He's got an idea of where to go and he starts to get up and then falters, looking back at the creature again. Uhh— what... what is he supposed to do. With... this thing. He can't just— grab it. Can he?

He's putting his glove back on— should he just... offer to carry it? It'd probably be quicker. Kieren swallows, and against his better judgement, cups his hands and offers them. ]

Um. Right. Come on. Let's go find him. [ He gestures with his hands again, coaxing. ] Konstantin.

( Fortunately (or is it unfortunately, really...) the thing knows what it is to be picked up and toted, now. Vasiliy's carried it more than once. Arthur carried it, and Randvi. It knows how this works.

And while it can be gunshy to getting so close to people, it can also be very trusting of those it feels safe around. Kieren is still a strange entity, it isn't entirely certain what to make of him, but the fact he's associated with Vasiliy more than other humans around here means that the alien trusts him in a particular way. ...It's also very cold in the snow and wants the warmth of clothing.

Which is to say, it takes him up on that offer, very quickly. The thing squirms right into his offered hands, nuzzling down into his palms and wrapping its tail around one of Kieren's wrists to secure itself to him. Tightly latching on. This is probably fine.

With that, it blinks up at him, little body vibrating with excitable tremours. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

it must be that old evil spirit

hey lil bro | cw: gore

spooky big bro!!

oi stop bein a dickhead m8

wormy looking @ kieren like WAIT I know u

kieren's like "well this might as well happen"

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