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singillatim2025-09-09 10:30 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2025-09-09 10:30 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- avi: rye,
- benjamin "dex" poindexter: shade,
- bruce wayne: kia,
- charles rowland: giz,
- chloe frazer: tess,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- dorian gray: kates,
- eddie munson: hannah,
- edward little: jhey,
- eren jaeger: lyn,
- frodo baggins: tossino,
- holland march: chase,
- ironeye: tetra,
- john irving: gabbie,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- konstantin veshnyakov: jhey,
- levi ackerman: dem,
- louis de pointe du lac: tea,
- maelle: alex,
- mike wheeler: giz,
- randvi: tess,
- reiner braun: kas,
- rorschach: shade,
- sam porter bridges: mimi,
- sameen shaw: iddy,
- snow white: carly,
- wynonna earp: lorna
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
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.
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,
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.
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'.
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.
no subject
And the sky rages above them all: the bolts of green and the sharp snaps of colour of the Aurora, setting the empty black of the night alight. She keeps low and quiet, moves slowly — the town is harder to navigate at night, especially with the streets more dangerous than they could be. She's hidden from sight as she presses herself against the wall of a building, checking the coast is clear before she makes her next move.
Until she hears the rolling thunder of a growl behind her. She turns to head to look and with a flash of sickly green, all she sees is the glint of white fangs lost in a sea of black fur. Kate stares, wide-eyed and pale — panicked for a moment before realising she knows this wolf. It's relief, and horror, all at once. ]
... Edward? [ Kate breaths the name. He's okay, he's alive. Just not the shape she expects to find him in. Her hands feel hot, a prickling uncomfortable heat. ] I'm—
[ Another flash in the sky, and something catches in the corner of her eye. Something long, silver and shiny. Kate turns her head back again to the sight of a woman standing with a rifle — trained on the wolf. ]
Edward, go—! Run—!
[ Her voice cracks against the air, loud even with the din of other noise. The woman startles, shifting the barrel of the rifle towards her instead. Kate gasps, horrified ]
no subject
(She's prey. Isn't she?)
The wolf hesitates, neither approaching her more or tensing back away, staying where he is. His eyes are locked onto the girl, throat rippling with movement again, and then she's shouting louder, shouting at him in horror, and though he can't comprehend what she says, he catches movement and sees someone else there, someone aiming their dangerous thing at the girl now, and the wolf doesn't stop to think or reason, couldn't even if he wanted to. He lunges, crossing the distance in seconds, one big blurry movement of black fur and claws and a wide-open mouth.
He snarls as he makes contact with the woman's thigh, teeth breaking through flesh and catching into layers of fat and muscle. The woman screams, slams the butt of her weapon downwards; it hits him in the shoulder, it hurts, but he barely registers the pain. He shakes his head hard and fast, tearing back and forth, unwilling to let go, and when he feels his fangs make contact with hard bone he grins wider and opens and closes his mouth again, clamping on like a vice. Fresh hot blood pools right into his mouth and down his throat. The woman's screaming more and hitting him again and again with her weapon, but he doesn't stop. ]
cw: accidental immolation / assault
[ It doesn't stop him. Of course it doesn't. It falls of deaf ears and she can only watch in horror as the woman screams — the sound of tearing fabric and snarls as the wolf attacks. Kate's stuck still, staring — frozen and helpless to watch.
But she can't just do nothing. She can't just stand and watch. The need to act burns away in her, louder than she's ever felt it — to stop, to help, to do something. They're going to end up killing one another, and if the woman manages to shift the gun to shoot at him—
Then it's all over.
She pushes herself from the wall and runs forwards before she can even think, right into the thick of it. With a slight leap, she throws herself bodily at the woman — not really knowing what to do with herself but wrapping her arms around the woman to stop her from smacking the wolf any further with the gun. She uses herself as a dead-weight, shouting at the wolf to let go and yelling at the woman to stop.
Fear blooms in her chest, cold and heavy, but the prickling in her hands grows hotter — painfully so. Her fingers burn, but she keeps her grip, refusing to let go. ]
Leave him alone—!
[ Ripples of flames lick up her fingers and hands, soft and small at first but it's enough— the smell of smouldering fabric and hair fills the immediate space and air around them. It hurts, but she can't let this carry on. They can't kill one another, she has to stop this.
The flames grow brighter, hot-white and pale yellow — extending up her wrists and forearms. Kate lets out a strangled scream of pain, and the woman belated realises that she's set alight, pausing in her beating with her rifle at the wolf. She drops the weapon, turning her attention on trying to throw Kate off instead. ]
no subject
But then the girl is rushing at the tangle of woman and wolf and blood, and at first he still doesn't relent. Not until he smells it — flame, and then he feels it, a heat that's growing startlingly fast. For the first time, the wolf experiences a flash of instinctive fear, and survival kicks in. He lets go of the woman's thigh, jaws relinquishing hold as he skitters backwards out of the way, alarmed.
Fire. Fire came from.. nowhere. It just appeared. It's on the girl's arms and hands and on the woman now, and the wolf knows to stay away from it, bloody mouth parted as he runs his tongue over his lips, agitated, nervous by the display before him. But that shred of loyalty remains deep down in there somewhere when the girl screams; the same instinct tells him to protect her. He gives a keening sound, ears pressed flat to his skull, darting close, then backing away again, then coming close. ]
no subject
[ She hasn't realised the wolf's finally released his hold, not yet, and she clings on for dear life — yelling in unintelligent screams.
Down a wolf, the woman focuses her attention on Kate. She's still thrashing and fighting against Kate's hold — shrieking as the flames begin the engulf her. Wool doesn't burn fast, but it melts under the heat of the flames. But polyester is worse — sickly sweet and chemical-like as it catches flames and melts.
It's too hot, and Kate can't keep hold for long — not with how desperate the woman is to be rid of her. She screams in agony as she burns, flailing around. With one furious shout, she whips her body round — and Kate goes tumbling down to the ground, hands and arms still ablaze.
Kate throws both arms into a nearby heap of snow, the flames fizzling and sputtering out. By the time she pulls her arms out, the layers of fabric keeping her warm are ruined — the adrenaline keeping her from feeling the full sting of her own burns. She's okay, she's okay.
The woman continues to flail, grabbing at herself to try and batter down the flames. She turns — fleeing, for help, for the flames to go out, for anything. She doesn't get far: stumbling with her wounded leg and burning clothes and falling into the snow, crawling away from them— ]
cw: he crunch....
Then the girl's knocked to the snow, a blaze of bright orange that's snuffed out in the cold, but the smell of it all lingers, like char, unpleasant. The wolf doesn't remember the man's ghosts and hurts: doesn't know to associate fire with Edward's particular horrors, only knows to fear it on an animalistic level. The fire's bad; it hurts. The girl— is hurt?
This sends a fresh surge of violent aggression through the wolf, and his attention returns to the wounded woman who's now half-crawling away, bleeding and still burning. Once more without thought, the wolf rushes and leaps at her, knocking her over sideways into the snow. He can feel some heat from the flames that still eat at her, but she hurt his human and there's only one directive in his mind now.
He kills her swiftly, jaws aimed for the column of her exposed throat once she's half on her back, snapping it with a loud, audible crunch. She convulses just once and then he's ripping through artery as he pulls back and away from her lifeless body. She'll burn out soon, now that she's down in the snow.
Blood keeps pumping, bright red against white. The wolf's eyes are livid, an eerie glow in the darkness as he stands there near his kill, and then slowly lifts and turns his head to stare back at the girl, body heaving with movement, every muscle raring to rip and kill. Even though he'd aimed to protect her, animal instinct and the Darkwalker's influence make him hostile, confused — nose scrunching as his lips peel back in another growl aimed her way. ]
FRESH BBQ
The wolf lunges. She jerks head head away, eyes wide and unblinking but forcing her gaze to look away. The sound seems to echo: the wet crunch of— bones, arteries, windpipe—? Of course she knows all the parts that belong inside the neck of a human, but she doesn't know the strength of a wolf's bite — just what it does, exactly.
She stares at the snow, panting through shallow shaky breaths. The wolf— he— oh, God. She's— Kate's mouth is agape, trying to shape sounds but nothing comes out, some kind of horror of the sounds she hears. But after a few long beats, she looks back from where she's sprawled in the snow — find the wolf staring back at her.
Kate Marsh isn't afraid of Edward Little. But tonight is a dangerous night, and she doesn't know what'll come next.
Slowly, carefully, she pushes herself up to sit. Her hands rest in the snow, soothing the heat under her skin. The wolf growls at her, and Kate swallows thickly. She doesn't dare look at the woman lying dead in the snow, still burning. ]
Stop, Edward. [ Quiet, but firmly. Please listen, she thinks. ] It's me. It's Kate. It's over.
no subject
It wants to eat the dead human now, but she's still burning out, clothes and skin smoldering, and the wolf knows it's not quite safe. Soon, after she's cooled. But for now....
For now, there's another human right there, sitting up in the snow. She speaks, and he doesn't understand what she's saying, but he understands she speaks directly to him. (He's so hungry, he could eat her, could try to satisfy his hunger. But she was too hot too, she had flames running down her arms— is she safe? Maybe dangerous. He isn't sure.)
He doesn't know what to do, tense as he stands there, a fresh growl rippling from his throat. Maybe he kills her fast, so fast she barely has time to move. Then he eats her. The wolf starts to move closer, very slowly, moving around — circling the girl. Stalking. He stays low to the ground, ears and tail pressed down, teeth bared, eyes never leaving her. Then — a flash of fangs as he snarls loudly at her, agitated. ]
no subject
(If he does something again, he'll never forgive himself. She has to try and make sure that doesn't happen this time.)
This... isn't like him. Not like all the times she's seen him before as a wolf: some shy, docile creature — more focused on making himself small and hiding away, too frightened of ever becoming something frightening.
This isn't a man who's a wolf, it's more like a wild animal. She has to tread carefully. ]
Stop.
[ Firmer this time. Don't you dare growl at her, Lieutenant. But telling a wolf to stop doesn't mean it's going to. She considers for a long moment, then tries to speak another way. ]
Edward. [ Something softer, her mouth doesn't move. Maybe this might work, if she tries to reach out another way. ] I know you're in there.
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He's moving in closer, a frothy mixture of saliva and blood dripping from his mouth.
Then something happens. It startles the wolf; he can't make sense of how she makes sounds but no movement with her mouth, and the voice that reaches his ears goes.... deeper than that — not into his ears at all but somehow somewhere further. Right into his head, his mind and thoughts.
He freezes, stops growling, lifting his head uncertainly and tilting it to one side and then the other as though in attempt to hear better. ]
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Edward? [ Okay, so like. He can hear her. Which is... something. And he's not snarling at her anymore. She keeps her voice calm, steady. ] I just need you to, like, chill out. Okay? It's okay. It's just me. It's—
[ Can he even understand her when he's like this? Sure, it's not the first time she's been around him when he's been a wolf but all those other times he's been... docile. More sad dog than wolf. Strings of words aren't going to mean much to him, either way.
That being said. She doesn't exactly speak wolf, either. Maybe it's like with Merry. He understands some basic commands. Maybe it's something like that. She brings her hands up slow, taps them both against her chest. ]
Pack. [ Family. He's family. Maybe the wolf will understand that. ] Kate. Pack.
Remember?
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Pack. Kate. Pack.
....He does know those words. Doesn't he? Kate especially is... familiar. A word he hears all the time. A very important word. (A word he loves.)
Something comes back through to the girl — spoken the same way she does. Not verbally, but inside. Edward's so recently been gifted with the ability, though he's yet to make true sense with it. And in this form, what comes is mostly sounds — not really human, soft blips of thought from the wolf, little half-formed noises.
But then a word does come, the easiest word for his mind to voice. ] Kate.
[ Filtered through the wolf, it doesn't sound exactly like Edward saying it. But it's there, intentional, and the wolf's posture changes. Bristling fur stills, the growl stops rippling in his throat, and his tail jumps just a little, like a cautious, uncertain wag. ]
Kate. Kate.
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Yes—! [ Even despite the hush of her voice as she speaks to him this way, there's no hiding the joy. He remembers her. And she lets go of a breath she didn't realise she was holding. ] Good, yes. Kate. I'm Kate.
[ Very slowly and cautiously, she raises one of her hands — offers it out to him with fingers splayed. With the tail wag, it's... promising, and she's hoping this is not going to seriously bite her in butt (or bite her on the hand, literally speaking). ]
I'm Kate. You're Edward. You're good. Remember?
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Kate. Kate Kate Kate—
[ He thinks it again. And then something human does bleed through with a solid pulse of his heartbeat, some capacity of thought, brief but assured. ]
My. Mine. Kate. My Kate.
[ She's... his. Not in the sense to own, to possess, but— Edward's heart knows her as one of his precious things. The wolf still can't quite understand this, but on a base level, he understands that he feels joy of his own for it. He runs his tongue across his lips when she slowly reaches out to him, the gesture nervous to begin with — reminiscent of Edward's own tendency to self-soothe, to rub his fingers together or dart his tongue across his lips without thought — but her mental voice is soft and soothing.
She means him no harm, and he... doesn't mean her any, either. The wolf realises this, in the vague way he's able to. And so he lifts his head to her hand, to the gesture of connection, and gives her fingers a gentle, docile lick. She smells, tastes, familiar. She's a source of safety. His tail jumps again, this time more purposefully. ]
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[ She hears her name and her heart melts with it; relieved he remembers her. She exhales another breath, shaky — she's never seen him so— so worked up like this. More wolf than man. He would be so... docile, almost afraid, before when he could change this way. But he's gentle with her now, licking at her fingers and it's honestly way better than him potentially biting them off.
It's risky, she knows. But it's worth the chance. He knows her. Her hand reaches a little further, past the teeth and towards his fur — gently offering a caress. She waits, as if testing the waters before slowly, carefully, letting her other hand move to join — stroking at the side of his head.
His fur is rough and sticky with blood, still warm. She tries to push past the dizzying sensation of it, lips pressing to a thin line as her stomach lurches a little. She doesn't dare look in the direction of the still-burning body just ahead of them. ]
Listen. [ She keeps her voice soft and calm. ] You need to go. Be safe. Hide. Someone else might try to shoot you.
[ They might think he's just a wolf, or maybe— maybe know exactly who he is and still try to go for him anyways. ]
Please, Edward. [ She insists, then pauses — breaking it down in simpler words. ] Kate says hide.
cw: eating a barbequed dead person, as one does
Then the girl's speaking to him again in that particular way, calm words, soothing, yet insistent at the same time. There's something important in what she's trying to tell him. It's an instruction, and the wolf feels obedience rippling in him for her. ]
Hide. Hide. Kate. Edward. Hide.
[ He repeats words back to her, making half-sense of them, but he understands enough, perhaps. Enough to know that the girl needs him to go, and at first it's an unwelcomed, nervous prospect. The wolf stares up at her, eyes locked on, a low whine in his throat. He doesn't want to leave the girl, but the need to obey what she says overwhelms other things. With her efforts, he's been briefly brought back to that more docile state of mind — doglike, wanting to please her.
But that wolf's state still persists, fueled ever more by the Darkwalker's influence, by the drive of a hunger he never quite can seem to satiate these days. He can't hide. He has to eat, and then he has to find more things to kill. ]
Hungry. Eat. Hungry hungry Eat eat eat eat eat
[ He bumps his bloody muzzle against the girl's hand almost affectionately, and then he's turning back around to gaze hungrily at his kill. It's still smoldering in places, but the way the victim had rolled around in the snow has helped to cool down the corpse left behind. Eyes flashing, the wolf moves back to the body, grinning widely again with delight before he'll start eating it with vigour — tearing off blackened chunks of flesh, swallowing them down whole. ]
cw: lil bit of dissociation, she's checking out byeee
He's alive, she's alive. They'll be okay, right? ]
It's okay. [ She hushes him gently. It's okay, he needs to go hide. Somewhere safe, just long enough to ride this all out. And maybe Enola can win this again, push the Darkwalker back to bring things back to how they were. ] Good wolf.
[ 'Hungry. Eat. Hungry hungry Eat eat eat eat eat' — and he's turning away from her, and Kate tries to gently stop him, her hand reaching back out for him. No, no— wait. Stay. Please, just stay. Don't go to—
Oh.
It doesn't feel real. Her gaze follows and she sees what he's doing but it doesn't feel real. Her eyes see, but at some point— at some point it's just— it's not sinking in. Like it's not her living this moment. She looks at the blood on her hands numbly for several beats before she does the one thing she knows she needs to do — she needs to stand up. ]
Edward. [ She's unsteady on her feet, but she's standing. Kate turns her attention back to the wolf. ] I've gotta go.
[ Go where? She'll... work it out. ]
wrapping up in a bow~
But as the seconds go by, the wolf's feeding begins to become more frenzied, more needy. Scarfing down pieces of the blackened corpse along with shreds of burned clothing that stick to skin, slurping against fresh blood, cracking whatever bones get in the way with sharp crunching noises. The stranger hollow place inside of him doesn't fill up the right way, but as his belly becomes fuller, the sensation helps, at least. He just needs more, more, more, more—
He's still aware of the girl, though more dimly again now. He still won't hurt her, but he's beginning to forget how to connect with her the way he just had, no longer capable of that mental speech between them anymore. Something wild and desperate takes hold once more; he's losing himself to it again. After this, he'll continue his rampage, tearing apart more people.
There's a brief moment when his ears do flicker, when the girl's Special Voice says something to him, but he doesn't stop eating. He can't stop, won't stop, until most of what was once a person is gone. ]