✟ 𝟹𝚁𝙳 𝙻𝚃. 𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 𝙸𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 (
extramuralise) wrote in
singillatim2025-01-16 10:10 pm
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» THIS IS THE STORY OF YOUR RED RIGHT ANKLE; AND HOW IT CAME TO MEET YOUR LEG.
Who: Edward Little, John Irving, Kate Marsh, Wynonna Earp, + open to other CR drop-ins in need of temporary shelter!
What: STORMED IN (Winterstille).
When: January 24th - 28th, and/or potentially just before / after
Where: The 41 Mackenzie Street cottage
Content Warnings: 'Does one not bring his habits [aboard]?' — which is to say, all of these characters have their own canon and in-game baggage, shared or otherwise, so please label all threads accordingly!
What: STORMED IN (Winterstille).
When: January 24th - 28th, and/or potentially just before / after
Where: The 41 Mackenzie Street cottage
Content Warnings: 'Does one not bring his habits [aboard]?' — which is to say, all of these characters have their own canon and in-game baggage, shared or otherwise, so please label all threads accordingly!
✒︎ how it whispered ❝ Oh, adhere to me⨾ ❞
The bear-beast alone would have been bad enough (and no question, knowing it was out there somewhere made actually preparing for this storm a beast in itself), but at least the looming presence of such a monstrous creature was sure to drive people indoors before the weather really turned.
As it happens, the cabin on 41 Mackenzie Street (home to Lieutenants Little and Irving, and Kate Marsh) is well-kitted out to weather (ha ha) the coming — now imminent — storm that's been circling, or at least as insulated as possible without knowing precisely how bad the storm will be yet. The windows and doors have been protected, reinforced; candles, matchbooks, and oil lanterns abound throughout various parts of the house; there's plenty of firewood, and food to last about a week if needed (which is not to say plenty of food, but hopefully enough to get them by).
So if you're passing by and need some shelter, come in and warm up by the fire! Have some tea, stay for supper! And hopefully you can be on your way again before the snow really begins to come down, or else you may be stuck here for the foreseeable.
» ARRIVALS; GETTING WARM; SETTLING IN FOR THE STORM.

As it happens, the cabin on 41 Mackenzie Street (home to Lieutenants Little and Irving, and Kate Marsh) is well-kitted out to weather (ha ha) the coming — now imminent — storm that's been circling, or at least as insulated as possible without knowing precisely how bad the storm will be yet. The windows and doors have been protected, reinforced; candles, matchbooks, and oil lanterns abound throughout various parts of the house; there's plenty of firewood, and food to last about a week if needed (which is not to say plenty of food, but hopefully enough to get them by).
So if you're passing by and need some shelter, come in and warm up by the fire! Have some tea, stay for supper! And hopefully you can be on your way again before the snow really begins to come down, or else you may be stuck here for the foreseeable.
✑ For we are bound by symmetry⨾
If you have been trapped here, never fear! There are still ways to keep occupied, especially for those would appreciate a distraction from the concerning colored strings that have mysteriously appeared on everyone's fingers (because seriously, what's that all about? Well, if you know, you know, or maybe you at least have developed a suspicion or two...), because don't you know? Victorians simply adore parlour games, and surely there are even a few old board games lying around that had been left behind back whenever the great Milton exodus occurred.
So, if you're feeling bored and not yet quite up to socializing about the weather (or, again, especially not those threads which seem to be connecting everyone to each other), take your pick! Gotta pass the time somehow, after all.
Blind Man's Bluff—
Charades—
Forfeits—
Yes and No/Twenty Questions—
... Not to mention other (more modern!) classics such as Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, and Two Truths and A Lie (if you can convince your hosts, that is!), or card games, or the much beloved campfire tradition of scary storytelling!
( OOC | Feel free to include in your prompt games that are NOT mentioned here; these are just a few examples, but anything is on the table! If it's a board game, you're welcome to assume your character can find it lying around in a closet or on a shelf somewhere. )
» FUN AND GAMES?!

So, if you're feeling bored and not yet quite up to socializing about the weather (or, again, especially not those threads which seem to be connecting everyone to each other), take your pick! Gotta pass the time somehow, after all.
- Blind man's buff is played in a spacious area, such as outdoors or in a large room, in which one player, designated as "It", is blindfolded and feels around attempting to touch the other players without being able to see them, while the other players scatter and try to avoid the person who is "it", hiding in plain sight and sometimes teasing them to influence them to change direction.
Charades—
- The basic object of the game is for a player or team of players to act out clues that will allow another player or team to guess a secret word. Most people today are familiar with the basic concept of the game, but there are different ways to play it. During the 1800s, Charades was played very differently from the modern form of the game. Mohr describes this older form of the game as "complex theatricals" and cites Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes (1881), which describes players staging a short play with two scenes in which the actors gave their audience clues to the word they were supposed to guess. This is different from the modern form of the game in which a single player mimes words for the other players to guess instead of speaking out loud and uses certain common gestures to help the other players understand the clues, like holding up their fingers to indicate the number of words in a phrase they want the audience to guess or tugging on their ear to let the players know that the answer is something that "sounds like" what they are about to mime. The only props used for the game are some basic household items that might be lying around, such as items of clothing or furniture. From there, it's just a matter of being clever and creative and acting things out. ( Read more about Modern Charades vs Victorian Charades! )
Forfeits—
- One person (called "the judge") is chosen to leave the room. All the other players must place a small personal item into a box. This might be an article of jewellery, or an item from the pocket or handbag, or a small item of clothing such as a tie or shoelace. The "judge" is brought back in to the room. They pick up an item and describe it. The owner must identify themselves and pay a forfeit — do something amusing/embarrassing — to win back the item. The judge chooses which forfeit to award the player. If the player fails, or refuses the forfeit, then the judge keeps the item.
( Suggestions for forfeits: sing a song; dance; stand on your head; tell a story; bark like a dog, do jumping jacks, imitate the person on your left, hold your breath for as long as you can; hug the person sitting opposite you; tell everybody something embarrassing that happened to you; walk around the circle backwards; etc! Many and more ideas can also be found here! )
Yes and No/Twenty Questions—
- One person picks a person, place, or thing, and commits it to memory (Mount Rushmore, the ocean, an item in the room). They do not tell what this item is but they say, for example, "I'm thinking of something large." The guests are then allowed to ask yes or no questions. "Is it a building?" "No" "Is it an animal" "No." "Is it a monument?" "Yes." "Is it in Europe?" "No" and so on until one person guesses the item correctly. If the person guesses incorrectly the game still ends and the wrong person must chose a new "something." Players should never guess until they are completely sure they know the answer.
... Not to mention other (more modern!) classics such as Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, and Two Truths and A Lie (if you can convince your hosts, that is!), or card games, or the much beloved campfire tradition of scary storytelling!
( OOC | Feel free to include in your prompt games that are NOT mentioned here; these are just a few examples, but anything is on the table! If it's a board game, you're welcome to assume your character can find it lying around in a closet or on a shelf somewhere. )
✒︎ And whatever differences our lives have been⨾
However long it's been by now, know that there is an ample enough store of tea, biscuits, and sandwich fixings to help keep a person from going too stir-crazy... not to mention a reasonably well-equipped bookshelf, and whatever other elements of personal entertainment the hosts may own, or that a guest may have brought along. Music, radio, handheld TV? Let's not succumb to cabin fever yet here, people!
Or maybe it's finally time to take someone aside and speculate amongst yourselves (or God forbid, even gossip) about the bear-monster, or even the strings... likely you've noticed some very telling colors and/or connections by now between others that you'd like to discuss in private, if not yet necessarily — or maybe exactly that! — with one of the concerned parties yet themselves.
» TEA & FOOD; SHARING CONFIDENCES; OTHERWISE PASSING THE TIME.

Or maybe it's finally time to take someone aside and speculate amongst yourselves (or God forbid, even gossip) about the bear-monster, or even the strings... likely you've noticed some very telling colors and/or connections by now between others that you'd like to discuss in private, if not yet necessarily — or maybe exactly that! — with one of the concerned parties yet themselves.
✑ We together make a limb⨾
Some people may end up having to shelter overnight, or possibly even more than one night, so make sure you know what your sleeping arrangements will be if it comes down to that. Not a problem, if so; these things happen, and there's a comfortable sofa, plenty of blankets, and (maybe?) even a spare room for guests to avail themselves to.
But let's also circle back a moment, because maybe this will also demand confronting your string situation head on in some way; if you're sharing a room with someone you're connected to, for instance, that's a hard thing to miss, let alone ignore. Maybe it's time to talk about it, or talk about something else that you hope can eventually lead into talking about your threads in a more casual, natural way— if such a thing is even possible.
It could also be that you're struggling to sleep, and find yourself "alone together" with someone else who is experiencing the same problem... offering, again, the ideal moment to confront the connection privately, or else talk around it until you finally build up the courage to address it, talk about it by not talking about it, exactly, or simply avoid the subject at all costs. Ultimately, in the end, that part is up to you... but remember the storm, remember that privacy is hard to come by in such a claustrophobic situation; maybe it's not the worst idea to take advantage of it while you have it.
» WINDING DOWN; CONFRONTING THE UNSPOKEN... (OR NOT).

But let's also circle back a moment, because maybe this will also demand confronting your string situation head on in some way; if you're sharing a room with someone you're connected to, for instance, that's a hard thing to miss, let alone ignore. Maybe it's time to talk about it, or talk about something else that you hope can eventually lead into talking about your threads in a more casual, natural way— if such a thing is even possible.
It could also be that you're struggling to sleep, and find yourself "alone together" with someone else who is experiencing the same problem... offering, again, the ideal moment to confront the connection privately, or else talk around it until you finally build up the courage to address it, talk about it by not talking about it, exactly, or simply avoid the subject at all costs. Ultimately, in the end, that part is up to you... but remember the storm, remember that privacy is hard to come by in such a claustrophobic situation; maybe it's not the worst idea to take advantage of it while you have it.
no subject
Little, you can't possibly still be scared of me.
[ Actually, that's not surprising at all. She knows she's... alarming, to him. It's just been a long time since he actually let that get in the way.
Right now, his panicked attempt to play dead while still standing in the middle of the room and talking to her just reminds her of the first time they ever met. She comes a little closer, holding the cushion against her torso like a shield — which probably is cheating. If he reaches out, chances are he'll just hit the soft surface of the pillow and not her. ]
Although, I mean, I do have you alone, and you can't see me. I could do all kinds of nefarious things.
no subject
—Wynonna voices that next bit, and he freezes (again, somehow, despite already being frozen. This is Advanced Freezing.) His hand's still reaching out, and after she steps closer, his fingertips have to be mere inches from the pillow she holds out in front of herself, yet he doesn't dare stretch his fingers out further. Not just yet. For now, he seems to have stopped being able to function at all. ]
Nef-nefarious things? [ He swallows, mouth immediately clamping shut again for a long moment. The thing is, as high an opinion that he has of Wynonna's character, there's no denying that she does have a tendency towards... being wicked from time to time.... Even he must admit... Well, even since his first meeting with her...
Where it had once been an unpleasant shock, the difference is that now the shock isn't... quite so unpleasant, anymore.
....This is very dangerous. Safest to play dumb! (Although not all of it is pretend; he truly has no idea what sorts of things she's alluding to. ...Which makes it all the more intimidating, for it leaves the mind to wonder and conjure up images.) ]
I'm not sure what sorts of nefarious things you mean, Miss Earp.
no subject
[ Amused, still, as she shifts to the side, close enough he might be able to feel the breeze of her movement against his outstretched fingertips. Yes, all of this is terrifying in the extreme — she barely understands how it could have happened at all — but right now, the fear and worry is very far away, shoved aside in favor of enjoying this moment of playfulness.
A moment, and then she darts in, trying to keep from touching him as she pushes onto her toes and presses a quick kiss to his cheek: there and gone again in a blink. ]
no subject
He barely has time to absorb and process her teasing, much less react to it, before there's suddenly a soft, quick pressure against his cheek. He freezes again with an equally soft exhale, mouth parting wider, breathing out fast. 'Oh', he almost says.
Then the pressure's gone, a little butterfly against his cheek falling away as quickly as it had fluttered to him. Edward feels heat creeping in again, a warmth that's both excitable and frightening, head swimming in a dizzy rush, and he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue.
Dumbly, he turns to try and face her again; he can't hear her anymore, she could be anywhere. Right beside him, behind him, in front of him— and each option is more unnerving than the last. Nefarious things, indeed...!
But a smile flickers there at the corners of his mouth. Something astounded and nervous, to be sure, but also something— faintly amused, and a little timidly curious. He lifts a hand again, searching, careful but intentional, with a fluttering heart and a sweeping buzz of adrenaline. ]
Truly nefarious— but drawing close enough to touch me puts you in danger of my being able to reach you. Now that I know how dastardly you're willing to behave, you might be the one in danger, Miss Earp, should you attempt such proximity again.
[ Come close enough to touch him again, he dares you! In his... very undaring, trembling way. ....It takes him forever to react to anything; Wynonna's probably fine. ]
no subject
But she likes this dumb kid's game, and she likes the way Little's playing along with her, even teasing her in his shy, gentle way. It's at least gotten her mind off the strings that even now wind around her fingers and hands, aside from the bright and steady one that leads straight to him, only a few feet away. ]
You ought know by now that I like living on the edge.
[ Her voice comes from right in front of him, and this time, she stands her ground, not moving an inch. It's all on him now to take those last few steps and actually let his fingers brush her... if he dares. But who knows what might happen if he gets that close? ]
no subject
His heart pulses hot and fast; his breathing is tight. He expects she'll dart away again (but what if she doesn't?) and he's abruptly worried which part of him might reach her first. A foot nudges cautiously forward, as though hesitant to bump into hers, and he remembers how her mouth looked so close to his, seconds before she'd pressed it up into his own and kissed him that night. He ought to call this game off, really, take a loss, do what's proper. But what if he offends her? He remembers walking away on another night, pulling back and leaving her alone with the glow of candles and lanterns. She'd wondered, worried, felt a loss. She'd been hurt by it; he knows that now. He'd been, too.
He doesn't know what he's doing. None of this is... right? Is that the word for it? But it doesn't feel wrong, either. He's nudging closer, barely daring to breathe, afraid he might inhale against strands of hair tickling his mouth. She's darling, he thinks, abruptly — playful and happy and light-spirited. He likes seeing her that way (..."seeing" not meant literally right now, of course). He likes when she's happy.
His fingertips brush something. Edward breathes again, a sharp exhale out. It doesn't feel like... skin. It feels soft, but not skin-soft; he doesn't realise it's the pillow she's holding. His other hand moves up, thinking he's made contact with something, maybe a chair or— but that doesn't seem right?
There's a rush of relief; it's some furniture or other, it must be, and maybe a little unexpectedly quickly, he moves closer to it so that his arm isn't out-stretched, so that he can make sense of the item (and maybe catch himself against it for a moment or two), but this is a mistake because he just bumps right into it (which is her), front making contact harder than he meant. ]
no subject
Her laugh rings out, unfettered and pleased, like they really are kids and they're at a party playing this dumb game instead of holed up in this cabin while a lethal storm swirls outside. There hasn't been a lot of room for laughter and fun in this place. She'll take it where she can get it. ]
Look at that. Guess you managed to find me after all.
[ There's a distinctly smug note to her tone that suggests she's less than surprised that he managed it, largely because she let him find her. But, really, is it less fun if she orchestrates it?
He can't see the smile playing around her lips as she lifts up onto her toes, but it's audible in her voice, teasing and coquettish as one hand curves at the back of his neck. ]
You should get a prize.
[ That p puffs warm breath against his lips, the only warning he gets before breath is replaced by lips in a warm, amused press of a kiss to his mouth, nearly as chaste as the one she'd placed on his cheek.
She doesn't linger; the kiss is done almost as soon as it starts. But she's still grinning, pleased as a cat licking its chops, as she sets herself back down. ]