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

[sukeltaja]

[ Zane keeps close - realistically, physically, he's built bigger than the Doctor, the other far more lanky, but Tom isn't an idiot. There's something in the other, the way he walks, that flicker of a facial expression that tells him an entire story. If it's accurate is yet to be determined, but he's fairly certain of two things. One, the Doctor can handle himself in this sort of situation. Two, Zane cannot. ]

We are. [ He's quick to agree, keeping close to the other, occasionally ducking down if there's a particularly loud noise near them, very much wanting to keep his head and not get hurt in any way whatsoever. A gun, he thinks -- he needs to find a gun at some point. Better than the knife. For now his weapon is the Doctor, although the other seems quite reluctant to go that way.

That's good. Make this a happy narrative. Wind the story into something hopeful. Yes. That works, too, Tom thinks. ]

It's chaos, man. That's what they don't like. It's not us. It's not personal.

[ It seems very, very personal anyway. Tom is taking it personally. He glances over to try to read his friends' face. ]

Chaos is great, though. Nessecary.

[thedreamer]

[ He doesn't know Tom's thoughts, of course, but his own unintentionally overlap; on the outside, it would seem he has no true way to defend him except with his own body and his mind, but that's exactly what he would do; outwit, outsmart, lead them away if it came to it. He is the weapon, he has been far too many times, more than he can bear or wants to accept. The Doctor, the Oncoming Storm — his name means little here, but to many in the universe his reputation was enough to keep them in check. Why worry about raising an army when you can call on the Doctor? Fear me, I've killed all of them. No, no, that's never what he's wanted. He doesn't like weapons, though his distaste for them has certainly grown since those years of violence and war. He's held a gun in these hands, stood on the edge wondering if he could and ever would fire it. That edge is always there, but tonight — tonight, there's Tom, there are others, there's the matter of keeping them safe. This grounds him. At times, it's all that saves him from himself. ]

Chaos is. [ He's quick to agree, with a slight modification. By his reckoning, chaos can be great or terrible, but in its own way, it is necessary. Not the only, of course. ] Neither great or terrible all the time, but some variation between. Just as order and peace is necessary, but they're meant to balance each other. How would you know where to go and what you wanted if you didn't know its opposite?

[ That sound of fury and chaos builds and builds, seems to come ever closer. With a sharp edge to his voice, he briefly grips Tom's forearm, all the while his eyes look behind and around them. ]

If they come on us fast, do not stand, do not stop. Keep running.

[ Under different circumstances, he would poke and prod more about the body, Alan, the ritual, whatever was going on just before. But there are other matters. Now, if there's a need for it, if they're ambushed, he can only hope Tom listens better than...others. If everyone would just listen to him, everything would be perfectly fine! ]

[sukeltaja]

[ There's a throughline in everything he knows about the Doctor. Admittedly it's not much--although after this, after things settle down, since they don't have a sauna Zane will make a point to drag him to the hot springs--but he feels like he knows enough. This is a good man, a good being, in both intentions and acts. Virtuous.

It's truly, completely, utterly awe-inspiring. So much so he hardly has time to focus on the meat of things, of creation, of chaos, and oh, if the Doctor only knew. He adds that to the list of hot springs conversational topics, and slides the Doctor's hand from his arm. Instead of shrugging it off, though, he links his hand with the others', fingers entwining.

A bit of strength. For both of them. With his free hand, he points. ]

Doctor Darling's place. The basement, it's very sturdy.

[thedreamer]

[ It's a familiar sort of touch, quite so over the years. Often accompanied by swift and sometimes chaotic running. While he's always thought it practical and logical — hold someone's hand when things get dicey and you always know where they are, at least — touch of any sort has always been a welcome tether for him.

So, he holds firm to his hand and he watches closely to where he points. Once there's a clear indication of direction to follow, the Doctor moves a little more quickly, taking charge to lead him. He doesn't know Doctor Darling, but the man's place has a basement, and that's all he needs to know for now. Really, any shelter will do at the moment. Mostly, he hopes. They've been burning those, too. ]

Love a basement, always have. Bonus rooms! Good, good, you'll stay there.

[ In the distance — though, not far enough away for comfort — he hears a gunshot go off. There's a pause, an eerie and deafening silence before returning gunfire can be heard in rapid succession. He only squeezes Tom's hand a bit more, quickening his pace. ]

Nearly there and you'll have a boring lie-down or something in there. And tell me all about your adventures exploring the fascinating southwest corner of Doctor Darling's basement.

[sukeltaja]

[ Tom yelps at the shot, completely unafraid to be an absolute coward. He's long since discarded most of that sort of thing--shame, embarrassment, anything not useful to him in the Dark Place has been chucked into Cauldron Lake, surfacing only when he needs to tap into it for his latest project. ]

It's very dull, that basement, but if Darling's there it'll be fun. He likes bowties, too, you should really meet him. You'd get along famously and talk about things like particles and planets.

[ Talking will always be a delightful and nessecary distraction for him. The Doctor helps navigate, and Tom follows, heart beating fast. ]

[thedreamer]

[ It's funny; even as the other man's name has been repeated more than once in the span of only a minute or so, it still takes the Doctor's mind a moment to actually catch up to what he's saying. Sometimes he's miles away and slow on the uptake. ]

Doctor Darling — Darling, oh, what a name, I'll have to let him know he's earned two gold stars in my book already. [ Between that and the bowtie, of course. ] Have you ever heard such a delightful name? No offense to the other names out there.

[ Part of his rambling is just...how he is, part of it is a distraction from all that's around them, too.

They seem close enough now; navigating in the dark would have been so much easier for him once, but they've managed well enough. Or, nearly that is. He won't consider him safe until he's inside. ]

Apart from being dull — which is a pity — you'll have what you need for now down there? I'll come back to check on you later, promise.

[sukeltaja]

Oh, no, he's perfect. He talks about numbers and I go weak in the knees. Did you know he actually works out quite a bit? Touch his biceps, you'll thank me.

[ But the Doctor delivers, true to his word: he's here, no one's shot at either of them. Tom breathes out. ]

Speaking of thank you, I owe you a second time. [ Which means yes, Tom is fine. He's alright, the little moment from before rattled completely out of his skull with the Doctor's calming presence. ]

Glass of wine? Fish dinner when this all calms down? We can drown ourselves in stories.

[thedreamer]

I believe I will. [ The Doctor generally has little concept of personal space so he'll take that directive quite literally. He doesn't particularly care much about the substance or size of anyone's biceps, so it's more curiosity than anything else; a scientist with the good sense to enjoy bowties, and he keeps fit. Lovely! ]

Dinner and drinks, yes, I'll be expecting that, of course. You'll be a notch up in my ledger if you provide custard to go with the fish. [ An obvious pairing! And never mind that the Doctor continues to pretend he has a taste for wine when it's actually the opposite. ]

Then you can tell me more about why exactly you were cutting out a heart, but please, leave me in suspense for now, I'll have something to look forward to.

[ It may not be regular dinner conversation for anyone else, but, well.

He reaches out, lightly and briefly patting Tom's cheek if he'll allow him, before he steps back. ]

Stay safe in there, I don't want to see you again at all tonight.