this empty northern hemisphere

[singmod]

NOVEMBER 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — STRANGERS: The Darkwalker returns to directly target Interlopers by stripping away the very things that make them who they are.

PROMPT TWO — NO EXIT: Interlopers find themselves trapped within the bowels of the earth, with no way out, except one.

PROMPT THREE — LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR: As the long night draws in, Interlopers find a way to bring about some festive cheer to chase off the chill and darkness.

STRANGERS

WHEN: The month of November
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mental manipulation; memory loss; loss of self/identity; potential identity crisis; potential personality changes; possible themes of depression; possible themes of suicide.

”They failed.”

For some, they have heard this voice before many times. For others they have only heard the voice upon their arrival into this place. An old voice, deep and dark and ancient. Something impossible, older than the earth itself. The one that 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 an unnerving voice. It feels wrong. It feels like an ending. It is the very same voice that spoke to you, right from the start. The words all Interlopers share with one another: You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.

They failed, and you realise just who ‘they’ are — the Forest Talkers. Mallory slumped in a cabin, slowly bleeding out.

”Interloper.”.

The voice that wants you gone. The one that wants to get rid of you. The Darkwalker.

”Inconsequential. They have gone into the Dark. As will you. As will all.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before it continues.

“What are you truly, Interloper?” it asks you. ”Or rather…. who are you? Take it away, and what are you left with?”

You feel your hands shake, you can’t seem to breathe. What does it mean?

”Perhaps nothing worth keeping, perhaps then you will finally see. Maybe you will finally understand your place. And perhaps then you will go into the Dark.”


You remember those words, and they linger within your mind in the days that follow.

It happens slowly, like the sea erodes the cliff face. The pieces come away, everything within you is slowly undone. Not an instant, but an insidious thing. You begin to forget things, about yourself, about the others around you.

You know you have loved ones, here in the Northern Territories, or even the ones waiting for you back home, but you cannot recognise their faces. You cannot recall the colour of a daughter’s hair, or the dimpled smile of a brother. You do not remember your father’s eyes, or your mother’s laugh. You cannot recall their names, their voices.

You do not remember those around you here in this world. You look upon a friend and see a stranger. You cannot recall the trials you have gone through together and come out the other side from. You cannot remember every shared moment, every small and brief moment of joy or compassion or hope. A hug, a hand held, a joke, a kind word, an apology.

Or perhaps you cannot remember any good thing you ever did. You cannot recall any act of kindness or goodness you brought into the world. You cannot recall your good deeds. Everything falls away from you, and you are left wondering who you are, what kind of person you are. Are you a good person? Or a bad person? Perhaps you’re a terrible person, after all. One who should not be here. Why should someone who has done nothing good with their life be here in this place?

Perhaps the Darkwalker is right. Take it all away, and who are you? What is left of you? Who are you if you cannot remember any goodness of you? If you cannot remember the connections you have made in this place? If you cannot remember the love of those back home?

Is it anything worth keeping? Is it anything that’s worth staying?

For some, it may be too much. Despair and disconnection are heavy things, and it may be too much. Perhaps they are nothing worth keeping, in the end. It may be enough to seek an end to themselves. Maybe it would be best to slip quietly into the Long Dark, after all.

It is a terrible trick, but it is one that can be broken. The Darkwalker’s hold has been broken before, and perhaps it can be broken again. Even if you do not remember yourself, the ones around you do. Leaning on those you are close to and talking with slowly pull the pieces of yourself back to you. The Darkwalker has power, but the testament of Interlopers is their persistence in this world, and that has power, too. Given enough time, and patience, and care — those around you may finally make you whole once more.

NO EXIT

WHEN: The month of November
WHERE: Everywhere...?
CONTENT WARNINGS: forced honesty; claustrophobic situations; nyctophobic/scotophobic situations; themes of peril; caves/possible cave-ins; themes of starvation/dehydration; themes of imprisonment

It starts with strange happenings at night, things left to be found by the next morning. Those within Lakeside many find themselves unsurprised You don’t remember falling asleep. You’re sure you were wide awake only seconds before, but when you open your eyes, confused and groggy, you are met with a strange kind of darkness. The kind that seems thick and endless, and you stare into it, trying to get your eyes to adjust but nothing seems to shift in your vision.

The air is stale, and there’s a scent of old, damp stone that clings to it. As you move around, trying to get your bearings, the room echoes oddly and it doesn’t take long to realise that you’re in some kind of cave atrium. And soon enough, someone else is waking up — you’re not alone in this place.

Moving around is difficult, and it’s best to use your body to try to navigate yourself. Testing the way out carefully with hands and feet. Maybe you have something on your by chance to help you light your way — a lighter, a pocket flashlight, matches. However, which way you try to feel out the atrium, you both soon come to the same conclusion: no matter how hard you try, there is no exit. No tunnel or passage out from the atrium, nothing.

You are both entirely trapped within this one space.

For a while, you sit in the atrium. Maybe you sit in silence, maybe you speak over what looks to be the inevitable: you’re doomed to die here, whether you suffocate or die of dehydration or starvation. You and your companion — familiar or strangers —

Out of nowhere, comes a scraping against the stone. You turn to find that on one of the walls, there is light — a ghost writing on the wall, carving into the stone to reveal letters that will glow dimly:

THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE

For some, this feels eerily familiar. Those who have been in the Northern Territories have dealt with something similar: a game of truths, a game of deadly consequences. There is no Jackal-headed being, no chains, no blood. This time, there is the truth or there is waiting to die. For others who aren’t familiar, it may take some working out. Maybe it’s best to talk, after all.

Opting for silence will find that nothing will change in the cave’s atrium. You will be left, waiting to die in the half-gloom. Strangely, speaking any lies will find that the cave will rumble ominously, and with enough — rock will begin fall down from above, almost as the place is slowly caving in. As if the stone itself knows if your words are truthful or not.

But as the words say, the truth will set you free. If you say enough, speak your truth, you will find yourselves noting a shift on the air — a crisp, freshness that drifts in from one direction. Heading through that way will bring you to a tunnel that had not been there before, and with it — you will find your exit, out into the wilds of Milton’s region.

LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR

WHEN: Preparations throughout November; November 26th.
WHERE: Milton Community Hall
CONTENT WARNINGS: drinking/alcohol; mentions of survival situations relating to AMC's The Terror.

As November begins to draw to a close, the daylight hours grow shorter and shorter. From the start of the month, there is less than seven hours of daylight and that number becomes smaller and smaller as the month goes on. The world is darker and colder, and the long night draws nearer — when the sun will not rise, and the Northern Territories exist in total darkness, save for the spare hours of twilight.

For some, it is not the first time they’ve experienced the darkness of winter. For a select few, they have known the darkness only too well — the bitterness, the hopelessness, the hunger for the dawn. But even in the dark, there are sparks of light — the crackles of fires to fight off the night and cold, or in a more figurative sense… the spark of an idea, another way to fight off the night and cold.

As the day shrinks, the idea grows. There is little to be cheerful of in the Northern Territories. Interlopers are tormented endlessly in this place: supernatural beings, harsh weather, precarious food situations, nightmares, the Forest Talkers and whatever mysteries lie within the Aurora. Survival is a persistence, but people are exhausted. Francis Crozier, former Captain of HMS Terror knows this more than anyone. A veteran, and a survivor of an ill-fated expedition— he has seen what becomes of those with low morale, when the darkness seems so thick and endless. He has seen many horrors.

This time, though, it can be different. This is not his world. These are not starving and maddened men, women and children. It is not Carnivale.

Over the month of November, plans are made and slowly bear fruit. Help is wrangled from Interlopers where they can — food preparation, decorations, musicians. Interlopers are encouraged to add their personal touches, country, culture, customs, to all that they plan. The only thing that’s insisted upon is light, so much light: lanterns, candles, torches, mirrors, sculptures made of ice that catch the glimmer of the nearby fires. The evening will glow.

There isn’t so much a ‘dress code’, per say. But Interlopers are encouraged to dress up for the occasion. Maybe hunting around in the homes of former Milton residents may prove lucky — with some rather dated formal-wear that has remained forgotten in the back of closets. It’s vintage, is all.

On November 26th, there is less than an hour of daylight. The crowds gather to watch the sun set after it has barely risen before the festivities begin.

The food is simple and hearty, much like what can be found at Methuselah’s feasts. While pine wine has been brought along, hot tea is also available—both can keep the chill away. Crozier digs into his stores to share all, a promise to every person as they descend into darkness: no Interloper will go hungry this winter.

There’s dancing, of course, an area cleared and illuminated with torches. There’s an insistence on a party thrown in open air, no canvas to obscure the stars, though inside the Community Hall the warmth calls to those needing a break from the chill.

It is important to remember that the last sunset of the year is not the reminder of the darkness ahead, but the promise of the first sunrise of the next.

FAQs

STRANGERS


1. While the Darkwalker Ward Talismans anointed with Interloper blood (first created by Heartman earlier in the year) will help ward off the worst of the Darkwalker's influence, Interlopers will still find themselves vulnerable to this kind of influence — particularly if their spirits are low, or if they've found themself questioning themselves or their relationships around them as of late. Interlopers who do not have Talismans (this is a handwaved thing) will fall victim very easily to the Darkwalker's influence.

2. There are three ways players can play with this plot: they can go with a loss of self, the loss of game-cr or the loss of canon relationships/canon story. Players can go with whatever way they see fit. They can also go with the nuclear option of all three, or a mix of the three.

NO EXIT

1. The truths need to be meaningful in some way in order to secure freedom. 'Small truths' will not be enough.

2. Either both or one of the characters can speak their truth in order to free themselves from the cave.

LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR

1. A big thank you to Gels for reaching out and helping with this prompt!

2. Characters will be able to find 'formal wear' of a sort within Milton. Bear in mind that a great deal of the fashion within Milton is dated, with a lot of the clothing being decades old that the original residents of Milton would have carefully kept safe. For a rough idea, nothing would be from anything later than the late-00's.

3. Players are free to write out any preparation threads as well as party threads! This could be outfit hunting; resource gathering for food, etc.; or making decorations for the Community Hall.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju settles on the floor so he can rifle through his notebooks. If it changes Fitzjames outlook on the town at all — it'd certainly changed Raju's — then it's important make sure he's getting it right. "That month was... a little like this one," he says as he looks. "But that creature was making us feel... more. Anger, fear, it was all more. It didn't hit Francis and I too hard, but there were a few fights that ended in deaths. Cannibalism, too. Not only Hickey. Ah, here: A boy, Kieren, who admitted to eating a woman, and admitted he'd done it before. That there was something different about him. There were the defence cases. There was Hickey, who admitted he gets hungrier than he'd used to — another one of those 'gifts', he can run longer too — he claimed self defence, admitted to eating the man after."

He looks up from the notebook, grimacing at Fitzjames before his gaze goes distant. "There was going to be a vote on what to do, but first we had to wait for a parade of of self righteous speeches and self-congratulation for telling us how forgiving we all ought to be. Francis — it hurt him to come. He hadn't healed. It set him back afterward, trying to stand for so long. He tried to tell them what Hickey had done before in sound mind, why he was dangerous, why they should take care, and got talked down by a child who treated him like a fool for being too emotional about a past he needed to put behind him. Not a single—"

He looks back down with a sharp inhale, shaking out his hand, and smothers a flame trying to grow on a corner of the page the notebook is open to. It leaves a charred edge behind — not the first on this particular set of pages — and Raju closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. He takes another. One more and his hands curl into fists as he concentrates, and the fire that wants to grow elsewhere springs out behind the one in the fireplace instead. He opens his eyes again, avoiding Fitzjames gaze in case the man is watching him.

"There wasn't a single consequence for anyone at all," he goes on, focusing on closing the notebook and putting it in the pile he'd gotten it from. "Hickey can get away with what he likes, and he knows it. All he needs to do is give them a reason to look away while he does it."

[gildedlife]

James might've settled on the floor as well, not really intending to be looming over Raju, but getting up from the floor is still a bit more effort than he wants to commit to expending. So instead he leans a little against the nearest wall, posture relaxed but interested, listening closely when Raju begins.

He does indeed watch him, noting his tone and the distant gaze, as well as the brief displays of fire; those make him nervous, just as they had in the cave, but he tries to ignore them for now. What Raju's telling him in more than enough to focus on for now, and very concerning to hear.

On one hand, it isn't a huge surprise that people here may not want to take serious action against someone who, as Hickey is very much capable of, could explain their actions in a way that leaves some amount of doubt in their guilt. James is, after all, someone who tends to behave the same way; when in command of a ship he tended to lead by relying on the respect of his men, typically ignoring minor infractions to prevent resentment or fear from building up amongst his crew, and in turn he'd hardly ever had to deal with serious issues. Even during the Expedition that had held well enough, as himself and Dundy had managed Erebus alone for months without any serious incidents.

That had not only been for the best because it meant everything was calm, but because James truly has very little stomach for more serious punishments. He's much more likely to err on the side of being too lenient, and so he does understand why some here might be that way as well. Perhaps they truly hadn't wanted to do anything when the situation was complex and they only had Francis' word to go on that Hickey was always this way.

But just because he can understand it doesn't make it any less worrying. It certainly means that they can't rely on the other Interlopers to see through Hickey's behavior, but then again, James had never really expected that from them to begin with. They are, after all, just like anyone else; they'll listen to whoever they're most familiar with, and whoever has the most charm and the best story. No different than anyone or anywhere else, and more than one person can play at the same game.

James is silent for several seconds, considering all of this and what he does and doesn't want to say. He wants to know more details, particularly about the other deaths and who had been involved--he has a suspicion about one of them, based on other things he's heard--but he's also cautious about getting Raju too amped up considering the fire issue. So, finally, he settles on something simple enough, and the most important part of it all.

"Perhaps that is true, but such distractions won't work on me. I'm well aware of what he is, and what he's capable of." And as much as James has no desire for or interest in violence, there is still a line that can be crossed. He would very much prefer not to have to do anything, and let the threat that he will if necessary be deterrent enough, but unfortunately he's pretty sure Hickey doesn't take him seriously enough for that.

Ultimately, though, if it comes down to it, that would be his mistake.

[load_aim_shoot]

While Fitzjames is quiet, Raju focuses on trying to put his part of the fire in the fireplace out. It won't go yet; Francis may have forgiven the lot of them, because his nature is what it is. But Raju hasn't.

Then Fitzjames does respond, and it's a satisfying thing to hear. Raju focuses on him again, smile sharp and growing. He nods. "I'll keep that in mind," he says, and moves to look into the pot. Not having the right tools makes straining and pouring the thing a bit of a trick but he's been doing it long enough to manage, and in a moment he's handing Fitzjames a cup. The tin one, because guests get certain privileges, even if it might pain the host to give them; the 'I love you with all my butt' mug Raju keeps.

"Sit down," he nods to Francis' usual armchair. "How have you been? This place's latest nonsense didn't hit you too badly, I hope?"

[gildedlife]

He takes the tin cup and holds it carefully, moving the armchair as indicated; he's certainly doing a lot better than last time he was here, but it's still probably--not probably, certainly--best to take the rest where he can get it.

"Other than finding myself in that same cavern several times, no." James doesn't make much an attempt to play off how unpleasant he found that particular ordeal, since Raju already knows how it went with them and can guess it didn't get any better the other times, but he also doesn't immediately add that one of the people he ended up trapped with was Hickey. "I heard there was something else going on as well, some sort of confusion, but I haven't directly encountered it."

Although he doesn't ask directly, the implicit return of the question is there in his expression; how has this all been going for Raju, since they'd seen each other last?

[load_aim_shoot]

Several times. Raju grimaces when Fitzjames says it, sympathetically. The flames in the fireplace, the ones set apart from the real fire that his focus on the thing is keeping there, are starting to dim; as hot as his temper still burns thinking about that day, he's used to thinking about it, and the combination of Fitzjames' determination to protect Francis even if the rest of them won't and speaking of... well, of relatively normal things, it's soothing.

Then Fitzjames goes on, and Raju's grimace turns into an unhappy one. As he sits in the other armchair he looks around himself, as if he hasn't looked on the place a million times before this one. He's looking over the rocks, the leaves, remembering the way he'd covered up every token Francis ever brought home for him, unthinking. He remembers the smell of pine and alcohol. He takes a drink for something else to focus on.

"Then count yourself lucky. For that, anyway. It... That creature can take our memories, too. I don't know how. There must be rules to it, or he would have done it before now. Emotions, memories, it's how he attacks us, so far. But it's never permanent, or at least it hasn't been yet. It always seems to fade, particularly with a reminder."

He sighs. Difficult to feel too triumphant about that fact, considering the destruction it'd managed to wreck before then. "What have you heard? I haven't spoken to anyone else about it. Outside Francis." Raju gives him a brief, unhappy grin. "Not much contact with the good people of Milton, these days."

[gildedlife]

James doesn't want to think too much about the cavern incidents, so he's entirely willing to latch onto the next subject, even if he'd somewhat expected it to be more of smalltalk than what it seems to be. Raju's response is much more detailed than James expects, indicating he might've had some experience with this particular thing going on, especially if he's only really spoken with Francis about the topic; it's possible that Francis had heard about it and passed the information on, but James is now wondering if perhaps Raju's--or potentially Francis'--experience is firsthand.

"I've heard very little. Something about memory loss, or confusion; it was an Interloper I didn't know, asking if I'd seen their friend, who they were concerned had wandered off after forgetting their experiences here." Or something like that. James still doesn't know many people by name here, but he does casually speak with those he encounters, and occasionally learns something interesting as a result.

He shifts the cup in his hands, pondering for a moment if he should ask, but after everything that's happened recently it's hardly the most prying he's done. "Did you experience something of the sort?"

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju nods, frowning into his tea. "I forgot why I was here. Not like the one you were talking about, who forgot everything. But this house." He looks up and around it. "Who I was in it with, and why. Francis... the things he forgot weren't so obvious, I think."

But talking about it has, at least, an upside: "When you speak with him, could you..." There's a way to say it without giving much personal away. Can you remind him he's a good man won't do. There's Francis' pride and dignity to think of. "If you could find your way to something nostalgic, something... he might want to remember. Something good. Just to make sure he remembers it. I think it would do him good."

[gildedlife]

"You have both remembered now?" James can't keep both the concern and urgency out of his voice when he asks the question; if Raju's aware of what was forgotten, at least on his own part, then surely he must have at least mostly snapped out of it, but that still isn't entirely reassuring. And the request to remind Francis of things he might enjoy remembering isn't reassuring either.

It's also something James realizes he doesn't know if he can do, and that realization strikes him with a sudden wave of regret. He and Francis really hadn't gotten along until just a few months before the walkout, and at that point, everything was incredibly dire. There had been small moments--finding Terror Camp, promoting Jopson, a light comment here and there--but nothing he can remind Francis of that he'll want to remember. What Raju has requested is such a small ask, and yet James can't do it.

But he gathers himself and tries to school his expression into something relaxed and assured, nodding his agreement. "I'll find something." It isn't quite a lie, because although he can't think of something nostalgic, perhaps there's something he can test Francis' memory and reassociate as something positive at the same time. He has no idea what that might be, but he can at least make the attempt.

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju sighs, relieved, posture like a weight coming off of his shoulders. A light weight, but there's relief in it. "Thank you." He feels a little like a wife asking her husband's friend to make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, but there are things a captain's commander can do for him that Raju never could. It's true, and Raju doesn't resent it. It's just... strange, that's all, having to count on someone else for something so important.

He takes a drink to break off the thoughtful stare he realises he'd been aiming at Fitzjames while he'd been thinking about it. "As far as we can tell it's all back by now, but..." He shrugs, grimacing and sounding frustrated. "I had a feeling something was wrong even before but Francis hasn't mentioned feeling anything like that. So who can say if there'd be signs? I'm almost tempted to help with that party of his just to have something else to worry about."

[gildedlife]

It's with a flicker of guilt that James watches Raju's relieved reaction, and nods again in polite response to the thanks he doesn't deserve; sure, he's going to try to uphold the agreement, but there's only so successful he thinks he can be.

So it's probably only fair that the answer he gets is not all that reassuring, though of course it would be difficult to truly know what one's forgetting. James is getting better at figuring out what no longer stays in his mind without great effort--numbers, dates, and sense of time are particularly bad for him--but doesn't always realize he's forgotten something else until the moment comes that he needs to recall it. It's surely the same way with this.

He can't tell if Raju's comment about thinking something was wrong with Francis beforehand has to do with noticing signs of the memory loss early, or if it's about something else bothering Francis, though James wonders if it might be the latter. Or perhaps that's his own concerns projecting as he's reminded of the party planning, and how... Strange, the whole thing feels to him.

"I admit I'm somewhat surprised he's organizing such a thing. Has he had this plan for some time?" He asks it neutrally and with a hint of curiosity, but both are somewhat affected, tone a little tight underneath and his grip on his cup the same way. Unfortunately, his memory is entirely clear when it comes to Carnivale, and it's impossible to keep them out of mind when discussing the subject of a polar party.

[load_aim_shoot]

"It's..." Raju frowns, thinking over it. "Hard to say. I think there might have been... something he was working on while I was... different, but I'm not sure how long it's been." There are some small details, particularly near that time when he'd only just started to forget, that are difficult, and after it'd got going Raju hadn't been paying much attention then to the man he'd been thinking of as Crozier. Better not to think about it too much in company; Raju looks a little frustrated for a moment, but moves on quickly.

"I know he's had projects before — one of the first things he did after his ribs had healed, once it was warm enough, he planned out a weir to build in one of the streams here and spent his days showing people how to catch fish with it. No matter who. I suppose this party is the same, he worries and thinks it's going to help."

After he answers he studies Fitzjames curiously, adding: "Why do you ask? Because it's a party?"

[gildedlife]

The fishing weir doesn't sound too strange, or really even strange at all; it makes sense that Francis might've wanted to do something useful, something to focus his attention on and improve the situation for everyone all at once. That's entirely understandable.

But the choice of a party like this, even--or perhaps especially--for the reason Raju suggests, still strikes James as very odd considering what happened last time. Perhaps, though, if Francis had indeed begun planning this during a time when his memory was altered, that could possibly be an explanation.

And on the subject of explanations, he's not sure how much of one to give. He looks away from Raju studying him to stare at the fire instead, tapping his fingers against the cup. "Partially, yes. But more so because we--or, more accurately, I alone--held a similar event during the Expedition, and it ended in..." Tragedy. A horrific, purposefully set fire that he still doesn't understand the reason for, and can't reconcile with what he knows--knew--of the person who set it.

"It ended in an incident. Several men were killed, and the rest of us barely avoided the same fate." And so he's surprised that this event, which surely everyone from the Expedition thinks of to at least some extent when the idea of any sort of party is brought up, was not enough to stop Francis from planning one. Perhaps that's a good thing, and perhaps since it's been much longer for Francis than it has been for James, it's also a natural thing; a way of moving past a traumatic experience and creating new memories. But James isn't there yet, and it simply makes him incredibly unsettled, which isn't helped by the possibility that he's actually the only one still bothered by this.

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju listens closely, sitting back and nodding a little once Fitzjames has finished. It might have been one of the things Francis skipped over in his telling, or described vaguely enough that Raju doesn't recognise it from Fitzjames' mouth. But hearing about it isn't a surprise. Living in the middle of the strange, the supernatural as he does has softened Raju to certain ideas; he wouldn't be very shocked to hear the entire journey had been cursed.

"Usually I'd tell you that I'm sure he's taking care, but if there's something you remember that he might be able to avoid—" He smiles wryly. "Considering what we were just speaking about I'm sure that he'd welcome the help. If there are any precautions you're looking for I could pass something on."

[gildedlife]

In some ways, it might've been a comfort to consider the idea that the Expedition had been cursed. It would've been an explanation for what happened, why so many things went wrong, why it had been so completely tragic and made so little sense. And, perhaps most importantly, it would mean they'd never had any real chance of escaping their fate, and therefore their mistakes didn't matter.

But they did matter. They do matter, and as much as James logically knows that without Stanley's actions the worst thing to come from Carnivale likely would've been some terrible hangovers, the guilt still weighs heavily on him. It had been his idea, he had been the current commander of the entire Expedition, and ultimately the responsibility fell on him.

He doubts there's any sort of worthwhile advice he could offer Francis in this, even considering the possible memory issue, but he doesn't want to go into that. He doesn't want to think about Carnivale any more than he already has.

So James changes the subject without any attempt to be subtle about it, picking an adjacent topic that's relevant but far easier to discuss. "Were you present for the last polar night? Other than the one I've heard occurred unnaturally during the summer."

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju raises his eyebrows, studying him. From a man who composes himself as deliberately as Fitzjames does, the question in place of an answer is practically like waving a flag and yelling that this is a weak point he doesn't want to talk about. But Raju doesn't want to see a man pushed into something he'd clearly rather forget, and it so happens that Raju doesn't have to push him, and so he doesn't.

"I hadn't been here too long when it started." He pauses and then sighs, frowning. "So I suppose it's been a year. But then, all this still felt like a dream. None of it felt real. I... admit, I'm not looking forward to it. This place hardly sees real sunlight as it is, but that's better than nothing. You've seen them before haven't you, the polar nights? With Francis?"

[gildedlife]

Normally he might've been more graceful about the redirection, but after everything--particularly recently--he's having a difficult seeing the point of it. Perhaps he could manage it if he were speaking to someone else, but James has already had to reveal the secret that he creates his entire image in order to hide, so what does it matter if Raju knows Carnivale is still an upsetting topic for him? He has something far more hurtful he could choose to use against him, and all James can really do is trust that he won't, and that if he won't then he won't really have any interest in using this against him either.

And it seems he's right to have had that trust, at least for now anyway, as Raju allows the change in subject and James is grateful for it.

"Yes. They are not amongst my favorite features of the far north either." So he can commiserate with Raju about that. "They were difficult to adjust to, even with timepieces readily available; here I can only imagine they're even more disorienting." There probably are clocks or watches or something in this place to use, but James doesn't have any in his cabin and hasn't really looked for any, and they don't seem quite as ubiquitous as they had been on the ships.

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mhm," Raju nods. "Last year I didn't have any routine to speak of; this year I expect it'll be stranger. Everything feeling like it's happening at night, when I ought to be sleeping. Still it only lasts for... I don't know, months? Only a few. Isn't it half a year where you and your men were?"

[gildedlife]

"No, God no, not that long." James' tone probably indicates very clearly how thankful he is that it wasn't. "That is the case near the pole, but we were far further south, and polar night lasted a little more than two months there." So likely similar to what they're facing here, if not slightly longer. Which is interesting, as James wonders--not for the first time--how far north they are, and on that note--

"I was told we're in Canada?" Canada existed in his time, but far smaller and, for the most part, far further south. But he wonders if perhaps that changed over time, if they're in a part of Canada north enough to have such a long polar night. He'd wondered before just how far they might be from King William Island, finding it an odd coincidence to have ended up on even the same continent, but now the question has returned to him even more strongly.

and, fade out

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mm, though I'm not sure where," Raju says, takes a drink of his tea, and settles in to keep Fitzjames entertained until Francis comes back. It's odd to make smalltalk this way, or maybe odd because it isn't; it's been so long, and it's a little surprising to find he doesn't mind it. He'd been good at it before, but that'd always been necessary, making himself known to important people for important reasons.

It's good to speak to Fitzjames, too, the first time they're really getting to without the mutually familiar presence of Francis between them to keep things easy. Other than that cave, of course, but it hardly counts. Fitzjames may not feel the same... well, web of obligation, maybe, tying them together through Francis as Raju does, but Raju wants to get to know him. Without all that honesty forced between them, this time. Polite and casual, the way these things should be.