singillatim | bury your doubts and fall asleep

bury your doubts and fall asleep

SEPTEMBER 2025 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: ENOLA’S VISIT : Rather than visiting in dreams, Enola appears to the Interlopers with a warning, and another offering of help.

PROMPT TWO — THE AURORA: KICKBACK Following Enola’s visit and the dream where Interlopers can gain a new ability, the Darkwalker bites back.

PROMPT THREE — AS THE DEAD SLEEP: In the dying world of the Quiet Apocalypse, Interlopers are driven to lay a part of themselves to rest.

PROMPT FOUR — SIGNAL VOID: The radios fixed up by Marra and given to Interlopers lead to unexpected finds in the Northern Territories.

THE AURORA: ENOLA'S VISIT

WHEN: September 21st.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially disturbing dreams; dreams involving animal death; dreams involving fire/being burned alive.

In the late afternoon, when the sky is still light, you hear the telltale signs of an Aurora. The endless hum, punctuated by cracks that echo across the air. There’s the strange ethereal shrill sounds made by no instrument known to man, faint at first but growing louder. As you look towards the skies, you can see the faint swirl of colours in the daylight. The electricity of the world comes to life, flickering and sparking erratically.

As the day shifts into evening and the skies darken, those colours in the sky begin to brighten: purples, pinks, red, greens and yellows — an abstract painting of colour and light that paints the sky brighter than any day, so bright the stars look like ghosts. The Aurora has come, and Interlopers settle in for a long night of noise and light.

Whenever you find yourself alone, she will come to you. You might be out in town, you might be sat in your cabin by the fire. You are alone and in a blink, she’s standing with you: a woman dressed in furs, one side of her face blackened and withered, the eye missing. Her remaining blue eye is bloodshot and exhausted. Her hands are caked in blood, old and new. She is dishevelled. Enola has seen better days, but she stands proud as she stares at you.

If you have spoken to, or seen Enola before — she greets you warmly like an old friend. If this is your first time seeing or speaking with Enola, she introduces herself: My name is Enola, I’m one of you. I’m here to help.

“Time is running out.” she tells you. “Things are changing. You’ve probably seen it, felt it. How the wildlife shifts, how the winters never end, how the world trembles.”

While prevalent long before Interlopers ever came to the Northern Territories, the seismic activity in the world has been a staple in recent times.

“Caged animals grow restless.” She’ll take a moment to walk around you, looking around with interest: examining homes of their contents, or taking a moment to appreciate the lush green trees. She takes genuine enjoyment out of it, smiling softly.

“I can still help.” she says suddenly, looking up at you. “I’ve seen you use your gifts well, learn how to control them. You learn so quickly. But more of you keep arriving, and this world keeps growing colder and crueller.”

She looks above you, or towards a window if you’re outside. She is silent for a long time.

“It was never supposed to be like this.” her voice is soft, sad. You notice there are tears in her eyes.

“Sleep, and it will come to you. If you choose for it.”

In an instant, she is gone. But when you go to sleep that night, a dream may come to you.

MOON TOUCHED: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of running through the silent woods at night. The moon is full above you, the air is calm and still. Hunger draws you forward, everything is so sharp and vivid in your senses, even in this dreamscape. You hear the crispness of the snow beneath your feet, smell the scent of the pines on the air, feel how warm you are against the coldness around you.

The snuffling of a rabbit catches your attention, and you swiftly leap after it, jaws opening and closing around its neck as you capture it. You bite down hard, feeling the crunch of its bones as they break, the sweet coppery taste of blood filling your mouth and nose. You lift your head towards the stars, blood on your tongue. You realise you are not a person at all, but a beast on all fours: a wolf, content and filling your belly with meat.

You wonder, for a brief moment: were you ever a person at all?

You do not know the answer to the question. You do not seem to worry about such a thing but there’s a flash of warning on the air. Something you cannot quite place, but you know that you should not forget it.

When you awaken, you feel… different, somehow. Everything seems a little sharper, as if the world around you had been dull, or behind some pane of frosted glass. With it comes a strange balance of calmness and chaos, tameness and wildness, fear and bravery. You find yourself looking for the moon in the skies and when you finally find it, it hits you — this is what it means to be Moon Touched.

LIGHT BRINGER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of sitting by a lonely campfire in the mouth of a cave at night, warming your hands. As you sit, a strange feeling comes over you, a desire to reach out to the flames. And so you do, reaching with both hands into the fire — gripping at the white-hot embers. It burns you, and for a moment there is blinding hot pain as the fire suddenly explodes around you, consuming you whole. But the pain soon stops. The fire doesn’t burn you. No, you have become the blaze — your body warmed. You burn bright enough that the darkness around you turns into day.

When you awaken the next morning, you feel warmed and comfortable. As if even the coldest of winters couldn’t reach your bones. The warmth remains even when the Aurora ends, and you are left with the innate understanding:you are the Lightbringer. The power of flame is at your very fingertips. You master the light, life, warmth.

AURORA CALL: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are standing in the very sky itself, at the Aurora’s height. Colour and sound twirls around you, within you — and you feel it curl into your body. Your head fills with noise, a chorus of voices calling out, snippets of conversation echoing within you. Enola’s voice calls to you: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

And you do, you do understand it.

When you awaken, you feel connected to the world around you. To the very people who live amongst you. You feel less lonely, a kind of kinship with others. You have heard the Aurora’s Call and you have answered it, unlocked a connection with your fellow Interlopers. You will be heard.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

THE AURORA: KICKBACK

WHEN: September 22nd.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of violence; supernatural weather/altered environments; altered mental states; mental manipulation; themes of violence; potential character injury; potential character death; potential NPC death.

When you awaken the next morning, the sky is impossibly dark. There is no daylight, there is only endless night. No moon, no stars, no sun. The sky is empty. A void. Just the darkness and the green gloom — the telltale sign of what is to come: the Darkwalker.

You awaken and the cold fear washes over you; a vice-like grip on your throat, squeezing, choking. The air is heavy, oppressive: fear, anxiety, anger. The day is eerily still, and even as you try to go about your day — you know something is coming, your instincts tell you as much.

And you’re right: the ancient, impossible voice finally crawls into your ear.

“The First is desperate.” the Darkwalker sneers.”Look at how she tries to protect her precious brethren. Arms you for a world that you were never meant to be in: the interloper in nature’s design.”

The earth shudders beneath you, things begin to shake and tremble around you.

“I am not some weak, powerless thing.” The Darkwalker tells you. “Even if I am bound, I am inevitable and so very hungry. The table is laid, and I will have my fill — as it is meant to be.”

The Darkwalker howls: indescribable, unnatural, demonic — breaking off into dark laughter. The earth shudders again.

“I will break you down from within, and if I cannot — I will break you down by one another’s hands once more. I am the Rot within you.”

Above you, white-hot green lightning streaks across the skies like cracks — impossibly bright. Something shifts within you, a growing tension. The anger within you builds. A familiar sensation for some: a bitter gnawing within you. The nightmarish green gloom above you persists and everything bubbles up from within.

It is not the first time the Darkwalker has done this. Many remember only too well the Summer Solstice of last year. By now, many wear talismans crafted to ward off the Darkwalker’s influence. But not everyone, and the Darkwalker’s influence is stronger now. From the dark, the anger within you becomes too much. The tension finally snaps with another crackle of lighting across the skies — and in the flash of it for a brief moment: the giant three-headed wolf skull, eyes glowing sickly green.

Another night of violence is upon the Interlopers: a vicious argument where you air your grievances, or finally let slip the things you’ve been holding close to your chest. A verbal beat down, incredibly hurtful in nature. For others, things may be drawn to getting physical. A literal beat down where your fists grow bruised and bloody, or perhaps even worse. Whatever it is, you want to do damage to someone else — there is darkness here, and so many things come out in the dark, don’t they?

Chaos erupts once more.

But there is noise above you this time, a furious unseen battle. The skies are not just empty and green, but a furious blaze of light of the Aurora streaks across the skies. Enola is grasping for control, and there are sounds of pain — as she tries to end the madness.

“Leave them be, Devourer.” Enola’s voice booms across the air like the cracking of ice of a frozen lake.

As Interlopers fall to chaos and madness with fists, weapons and words: Enola and the Darkwalker battle against one another. The skies flash violently with green streaks of lightning and the sharp colours of the Aurora: a frightening sight and it’s almost impossible to truly describe the sights before you — should you have a moment to look up.

Hide, or fight. Survive.

The night is long. The fight above you goes on for hours, and ends with a tearing of the skies and the world snaps to normal. You hear a gasp of pain from Enola, then nothing. The air is silent and clear above, but blood may have already been spilled below.

AS THE DEAD SLEEP

WHEN: The month of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mental manipulation; themes of loss; themes of grief; themes of death; themes of catharsis.

In the Quiet Apocalypse, it is easy to see the world sitting on the long road of the End of Things. Everything must end, that is part of nature. All things begin and all things end. So many Interlopers have been ripped from their worlds, often in the midst of crisis, trouble or change. And with it comes a pause, something left unfinished. The end has not been completed.

It is a notion that greets you when you awaken one morning. A compulsion. An itch. One might try to press it down, ignore it as much as you can. But the longer it is ignored, the more the feeling becomes. You go about your business and the feeling grows: a blooming sensation in your chest and the innate understanding: all things must end. It is a desperate, lonely feeling.

Perhaps it is not the end of you, but the end of something else. A life, a friendship, a loved one. Perhaps something left unsaid, something left undone. Whatever it is, you find yourself thinking of it constantly, even when you particularly don’t want to. It feels… wrong, to leave such a thing unfinished. To keep putting such a thing off feels unnatural. And that feeling inside of you comes almost too much to bear.

Whatever it is, you must put it to rest.

For Interlopers, a different destination will come to them. They may wish to go out into the wilds. Others may wish to go to the Church in Milton, or at Silverpoint. Some may wish to travel to the edge of the ravine, or even to some part of Lakeside. Some may wish to stand on the edges of the ice upon the seas at the Coast. Whatever or wherever they feel they need to get to — a distance will need to be covered, to find somewhere quiet and alone. They will prepare themselves for the journey and leave to go on to put something, whatever it may be, to rest. To say goodbye.

And so you walk, through the snow and wind, your thoughts occupied. You must say goodbye, you must bury something, you must finish what needs to be finished. But… other thoughts mingle within your own. You cannot recall where they come from, but they feel like yours, somehow. Like something deep down within your spirit, pooling out from it and drifting into your mind. Soft prayers, hushed apologies — even if the words are not your own, they have never felt truer. They weigh upon you, so heavy despite their softness:

… The night was so bright, too bright to count the stars. We forgot about them. … And yet it was a bitter and empty place. Did you truly know, somehow?

Did who know? Did they know what? There are so many questions, but you cannot seem to find the answers to them. It is a quiet agony. There are more thoughts:

… I could not go. I would not. Why couldn't you hold out? Why couldn't I let go?

Who’s thoughts are these? Even if they are not your own, they seem to make sense, somehow. Perhaps you piece things together, make them your own thoughts. Perhaps there was something you could not let go of. Perhaps there was someone who could not hold on. Perhaps there you were stubborn, too stubborn.

… The world falling away. The lights, they used to go on. Please forgive me.

The final words linger within you as you finally come to a stop. Here. This is where you must stop. Here you will lay it to rest. Your hands reach for the snow, fingers clawing into the frozen white. Perhaps you wish to lay it beneath the ice. You prepare. Perhaps it is an item you bury, some small token that represents what it is you wish to finish. Perhaps you are drawn to write something down: a name, a secret, an apology. Or perhaps you simply wish to make some kind of symbolic grave: decorated with stones and even crafting some kind of marker for it.

You will not stop until it is done, even if the day grows darker and colder. You will work until you have finished it. If others have come with you, you will feel compelled to unburden yourself of this loss, this thing you must finally put to bed. You do not have to be alone in saying goodbye.

And when it is done, you feel lighter, somehow. Forgiven, perhaps. As if the very thing that has weighed down so terribly upon you has lessened, eased. Things feel right once more.

As the dead sleep, you are here and alive — for now.

SIGNAL VOID

WHEN: Aurora nights; the month of September, onwards.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival/exploration; potentially dangerous situations; altered wildlife; wild animal attacks; potential character injuries; potential maiming; potential character death.

In July, Interlopers who tackled the Cannery and fought against the Timberwolves that had made their home there managed to recover some shortwave radios. These radios were given to Marra, who has managed to get these devices working again despite the Aurora’s effects on electronics.

No one can say for sure how Marra has managed to do this, much like how she manages to ensure the lighthouse works at all times. Even her own answers have proved insufficient, but she cannot even explain it herself: for some reason I can keep this place going. I'm in here and the light still shines, and I don't know why.

Having been returned to Interlopers via Molly at the Frozen Angler, Interlopers across the Northern Territories will have access to these tools. While not enough for everyone to have one each, Interlopers will need to share the radios as they navigate the world. The radios don’t work like regular walkie-talkies, but will work by using them to send morse code messages — like how telegrams work. But in the month of September, during Aurora nights, these radios start picking up strange signals.

The signal seems to appear on the radios like some kind of radar, with the screen lighting up and flashing, and a beeping sound emitting from the radio. Following the flashing and beeping on the radios, Interlopers will find that they are being led to something — with the lights and sounds increasing in frequency and intensity the closer they get.

The signals will lead Interlopers to bunkers, buried in the snow. Interlopers will need to dig through the snow to reach the door, and the doors themselves will be heavy and difficult to open. Inside, Interlopers will find a shelter that has been carved into the earth, and modest caches of stocks that have been lost to time: food, water, medical supplies, tools, books, weapons. It looks as if these bunkers were created as places of protection in the event of some kind of nuclear war, or some kind of apocalypse prepper — clearly a great deal of work has gone into crafting these places.

However there are certain dangers when it comes to traversing the world during the Aurora. Wildlife tends to become more volatile during these nights, and will actively seek out Interlopers who are out in the wilds following the signals on their radios. Packs of wolves, solitary wolves or even bears and wild cats can be found stalking after Interlopers who may be out.

The threat of these predators is high, and they will actively attack Interlopers. But it’s worth the risk of more supplies: the endless night is on the way as the daylight hours grow thin and bitter winter draws in.

But it is not just these bunkers that the radios reveal: in addition, another signal is being broadcast. One that may be familiar to some Interlopers. A broken message from last year, recorded in the diary of a firewatcher:

- .... .. ... / .. ... / --- .--. . .-. .- - .. ...- . / -... . .- .-. --- .- -.- .-.-.- / .--. .-. --- .--- . -.-. - / .-- .. -. - . .-. -- ..- - . / -.. --- .-- -. .-.-.- / -.. .- -. --. . .-. ---... / .- ..- .-. --- .-. .- / .. -. ... - .- -... .. .-.. .. - -.-- .-.-.- / -.-. --- -- . / .- - / --- -. -.-. . .-.-.-

FAQs

THE AURORA: ENOLA'S VISIT

1. Aurora Feats are unlocked! For this round, RNG picked Lightbringer, Moon Touched and Aurora Call.

2. Please see the following page for more information. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

3. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Event. The only time this is available is this month. After September, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

THE AURORA: KICKBACK

1. Characters are free to use this event to kill NPC Interlopers. Other NPCs, especially named ones (ie. Methuselah, Molly, Marra, etc.), are off the table, as are two marked NPC Interlopers. Please let Mods know if you intend on doing this for record keeping!

2. These acts of violence can be physical or verbal altercations, players are encouraged to work with the prompt however they'd like! However, anything potentially world-altering (ie. building destruction) must be first discussed with mods.

3. Interlopers under the Darkwalker's influence can be stopped in a number of ways. Showing genuine care and compassion in the face of violence is one way, ~~saving them with the power of love/friendship~~. Knocking an Interloper out is another way. Sometimes killing an Interloper may be needed, or simply restraining them and keeping them locked up somewhere so they can't hurt anyone else until the night is over would also work.

4. Interlopers with the Darkwalker's Revenge Feat will be incredibly energised by the Darkwalker's influence on the world and feel at their physical peak. They will also be more susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence to be violent, meaning it will take extra work to break them out from the Darkwalker's hold.

5. Interlopers with warding talismans anointed with Interloper blood will be the least susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence to be violent, but can still be influenced eventually as the night goes on — especially if they have any grudges or interpersonal issues going on.

6. Interlopers who have natural penchants for violence or darker impulses will also be more susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence.

AS THE DEAD SLEEP

1. Items don't have to just be buried, they could also be burned, or sunk into a body of water.

2. It doesn't have to be a specific item, but could be something symbolic of the thing that the Interloper wants to 'put to rest'.

SIGNAL VOID

1. There are six bunkers in the world to be found. Two in the Milton region, two in the Lakeside region, and two in The Coast region.

2. The morse code message cannot be replied to as of yet.

3. The firewatcher refers to the Diary of Sam Bouchard, which can be read here.

PLOTTING POST

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hickey, who has his own radio and also wants to get the fuck out of town for a bit, ropes Chloe into his expedition almost instantly. He's human-shaped at the moment—someone's got to hold and navigate with the radio, after all. As Chloe unearths the bunker, Hickey's already clambering down towards it, crowbar in hand, looking to try and find the best place to pry it open.

"Absolutely," he laughs. "Even if there's only tinned goods in here, it's bloody better than what we've had before!"

A bunker! Supplies! New things, supplies that Hickey and Billy can squirrel away when they inevitably decide to leave—ah. Right.

"Here, get down here. I've got another crowbar in my pack and can use some help."

And conversation away from other prying ears.

“Sure thing.” Chloe finishes dressing and hops down, reaching for the crowbar.

“Billy and I met going through that prepper cave, do you remember that?”

"I do," Hickey nods. "If this thing is half as good as that one, I'll be happy."

He hands over a crowbar and starts to wedge it between the door and the frame, trying to pop it open. It'll involve a bit more wiggling and pressure but hey, Hickey's got time.

"I'm hoping for tinned goods. The sort of thing one can take on a long voyage, you know?"

Chloe doesn't typically carry one of these with her on adventures, so she's always stuck trying to pry things with some random piece of wood or a sword or something. It's nice to actually have a tool designed for the job.

“Yeah? You guys going back out to the coast?”

She's instantly jealous. It must be so cool out there. Or at any rate, it isn't Milton.

"Of a sort." As they talk, Hickey lowers his voice, keeping it so that others can't overhear. He knows that this isn't something he really needs to be sneaky about but old habits die hard. Even though this isn't Terror, so much of this conversation feels like planning the mutiny that lowering his voice is better safe than sorry.

"If leads open up, if that ice in Silverpoint breaks or someone else finds a new lead, Billy and I were thinking about getting out of here. Traveling onward, finding a ship, just getting out of Milton and out of this little community. We both thought you might want to come with."

Chloe takes the time as they pry the bunker door to think over her response. She’s definitely getting cabin fever, locked up for so long in such a small pen, but she does want to go home. What if they escape and she misses her window? But what if people here turn on her and her friends before she gets the chance?

“Yeah. I think I would. Moving has got to be better than spinning our wheels forever.”

"I agree," Hickey says, with a little nod. Chloe might not be sure about whether she wants to return home or not, but it's certain for Hickey. Bugger London. Bugger Queen Victoria. He doesn't want to return home, he's never returning home. But that means his option is here. But there's no way he'll want to stay here, in Milton, not if he has the opportunity to leave.

"Given the chance, I know half the people here will stay here. Milton's familiar. Milton's stable. But why stick with stable when you can try for something better?"

Chloe nods, though it might be lost in the action of leaning on the crowbar.

“I can't believe how few people left Milton when the route to the coast opened up. If my health had been better, I’d have been gone months ago.”

She gives one final grunt of effort, and the door cracks open.

“There. Ugh, stale air.”

"I can see why they'd hesitate," Hickey shrugs. "Ran into so many corpses en route to that other town. Moment you hear of something like that, you'll hesitate."

But the door is open up and Hickey's attention is focused on what inside. He pokes his head in before musing, "There's space in here. Plenty of boxes. This one's..." Hickey moves inside to rummage in a box before laughing, "Perfect! Clothes!"

“You think?” Chloe is kind of inured to corpses at this point. “We’re better prepared than they were for what’s out there.”

Those people had been in the middle of the worst disaster they'd ever experienced when they fled Milton.

“Oh!” she says at the discovery. “Anything good? Anything in red?”

Priorities.

"We're better prepared," Hickey points out, "but every few months we get five to ten people who've never seen a corpse before. Besides, suspect some of our number will never get used to the dead."

Which frankly, is a skill issue.

As he talks, Hickey lightly throws a pair of red winter gloves in Chloe's direction. Hopefully they fit? He's not so sure on the size.

“I don't know if it's about seeing the dead,” Chloe says with a sigh. That's definitely part of it, but even people you'd expect to be normal about it sometimes aren't. “Lots of people here act like it's a crime to want to live.”

You do what you have to in order to survive. Hickey understands that.

She catches the gloves with a grin. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

Hickey gives Chloe a little nod of thanks at the compliment. Her other statement, however...she's right. He can't help but think of his time back on Terror, when they were out on the ice. So many people were hesitant to do what was needed in order to live. Or they did it, but felt disgust and misery all the while.

"So many people reject the practicals in favor of their morals," he nods. "Morality doesn't mean shit if you're dead. Considering everything we've been through, surprised more people here haven't realized that."

“They protect their own, too.” Most people here clearly only care about killing when they can use it against someone they already don't like. “They just think they're better than us.”

"When obviously, they're not," Hickey says, with a little shrug, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Sorry, Interlopers. You all kind of suck.

He rummages as he talks, opening a box shoved in the back. Shittalking their fellow Interlopers will be put on pause as Hickey calls out, "Mate, there's tinned goods back here. And it's fruit! Tinned fruit!"

Someone is going to eat an entire tin of mandarin oranges. Hickey is stoked at this find and instantly resumes digging through the box.

Chloe all but runs over to look in the crate, irritation with her fellow Interlopers temporarily forgotten.

“Fruit, no shit? Got any peaches?”

She’s had a bit of a thing for them since Lestat had used them to bribe her.

"Let me check...yeah! Right here, in the back."

Hickey triumphantly holds up the can of peaches before handing it over to Chloe with a wry little smile.

"We've hit the grand prize as far as I'm concerned."

“Ah, beautiful.” Chloe holds the can as if it's worth its weight in gold. “We do at least have some vegetables now, but I miss fruit. A bit of a sweet tooth, you know?”

"There's so many foods that if I realized I'd never eat them again, I'd have savored the taste," Hickey muses. "I'd kill a man for a fresh loaf of bread."

This being Hickey, it's unsure if he's exaggerating or if he'd actually do a murder.

“God, right?” And with them both being so much hungrier than they'd been before becoming Free Runners, too. Absolutely unfair.

“I brought my pack if you want to start loading it up.”

"Happily," he says, with a nod. "Fruit and warm clothes are going your way. Anything else?"

Hickey wouldn't say there's a lot of stuff in this bunker. But there's certainly enough that he'll want to prioritize the things they really want for Trip #1.

“I don't imagine a guy like this packed anything fun,” Chloe sighs with an exaggerated pout. “So just those. What about you?”

"Mostly fruit for me," he says, as he continues to pack as much canned fruit as possible. "If there's something in Billy's size, might as well grab it for him."

Hickey can be a good husband when he so chooses! The problem, of course, is 'when he so chooses.'

“Maybe he’ll get lucky and this guy was a really tall, skinny prepper.” Usually those guys are built like her ex, Charlie.

Hickey can't help but let out a little chuckle as he points out, "Skinny's a given up here. Tall? We'll see."

bury your doubts and fall asleep

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