singillatim | the frost, it looks like dust, settled on the world

[ A fresh wave of new Interlopers comes in, and among them is a young girl, no older than fourteen. She wakes in an abandoned shed, gathers herself, collects the heavy bust set out on a dusty old counter, and follows the trail of smoke into the town of Milton.

When she steps into the Community Center — holding the bust of a man's head to her hip — her pale cheeks and nose are flushed an angry red from the bitter cold, and she's visibly shaking, jaw set stiff. Yet her expression remains controlled and mostly neutral, eyes slowly wandering around.

Canada, she's heard someone say. This isn't... where she's supposed to be. (Except it has to be, she reasons. It has to. Of course it is. Mistakes are never made.)

Unless.... unless a mistake was made, an error on her part, and perhaps this is some sort of consequence. Some sort of punishment. The girl's mouth tightens into a severe frown, and she swallows against a slick, nauseated feeling. But she won't act on assumptions. She has to sort out the facts, find out what's required of her.

She's very hungry, but she ignores the ache in her stomach with ease, features calm as she approaches strangers (are these innies? Or un-severed Lumon employees? She'll still be working for Lumon, so... they have to be one or the other.) ]

Good evening. I'm looking for the Gunnel Eagan Empathy Center. [ The girl shifts the bust on her hip, one arm wound tightly around the thing. There's a polite smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. There's something empty about her. ] Could you point me in the correct direction, or perhaps to your supervisor?

Edited 2026-01-02 01:43 (UTC)

[ As a permanent resident of the Welcome Hall, Frodo is quite at home helping with the feast and ensuring food is plentiful. It may be primarily for newcomers, but it is equally important for any other Interlopers to get a chance at a good meal. Especially when most of what can be eaten during winter is salted meat and the like.

Crouched by the simmering pot at the hearth in a large sweater like he is, his short stature may not be immediately obvious, but will be as soon as she speaks and he stands to give her his full attention. ]

I'm sorry, I do not believe we have found any location of that name.

[ Well, it's become apparent that she will not be getting to Svalbard any time soon. In the days to follow since her arrival, the girl has realised that she won't be starting her duties at the Empathy Center just yet. Instead, it seems as though this is another sort of training for her. Perhaps similar to an ORTBO — an Outdoor Retreat and Team-Building Occurrence — a really, really intense one.

She doesn't know how long this will last. It could be a few days, a few weeks, or even longer than that. It all depends on how much more training she's meant to receive. (...Or how long her punishment will last, if this is that.)

In any case, she'll do whatever is required of her, and that seems to be surviving, right now. So Miss Huang (that is how she introduces herself, because she assumes that her training is continuing, that she's meant to be a leader, a managerial figure to what are presumably a bunch of innies) gets to it.

Firstly — a shelter. Now, she could keep staying at the Community Center with others, but she figures that wouldn't show much initiative at all. No, she'll be especially impressive if she can establish a true shelter. She sets off one dark afternoon to find a cabin that isn't taken yet, and when she's satisfied with her find — a small-ish place out on Thompson's Road — she starts getting to work.

It's clear that the cabin has been untouched for a very long time. Or at least, made to look that way. Miss Huang props the front door open to let the place air out a bit, though that also lets the winter air blow in. Drawing her coat tightly around herself, she starts cleaning up, sweeping the floors with an old broom she finds, and lugging out a few rugs to beat on the front porch. One might see her out there, barely able to lift a heavy floor rug up onto the banister, whacking it uncertainly with the end of her broom. But eventually the cold gets to be too much, and with chattering teeth she heads back in to try and get the fireplace going.

...Except even when she puts some logs in, the fire won't stay lit for too long (Miss Huang does not know about Kindling or Log Positioning; she just kind of... set some in there) and so she might be found stepping out onto the street, flagging down the first person she sees. Part of leadership and responsibility is knowing when to ask for help, after all. (Just not too much.) From there, she'll ask if you know how to "get a fireplace working", and if you wouldn't mind showing her.

Or, as the days pass by, you might see the young girl at the cabin, seemingly living all alone. She can't be any older than thirteen or fourteen, but there she is — lugging more logs inside, pulling out some old furniture and other random items that she means to take to the general store and trade, or sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee like she's grown. ]

Edited 2026-01-02 02:11 (UTC)

[ Unfortunately, the first person she flags down is Dorian, someone who looks like he's never lit a fire in his life. Miss Huang's teeth are chattering but Dorian is thriving in the darkness and the cold. In fact, he doesn't seem to be cold in the slightest—weird, as that shirt is absolutely not buttoned all the way to the top and Dorian is absolutely not wearing a jacket.

Fortunately, he does know how to light a fire. Thanks, immortality! He was around when gas lamps were a thing! And also served in a war—granted, there wasn't much opportunity to light a fire during the trench warfare of World War 1, but it's still something one should know. So when he sees the literal child wave him over, Dorian gives her a once-over before deciding eh, whatever, he can help. Helping out a child might boost up his image! ]

I do indeed know how to get a fireplace working—though if you don't have any dried firewood, it's probably best you go to the community center or the church. Kindling should be easy to get, but I do not have an axe on hand for manual labor.

[ plus, he's not doing manual labor in the first place ]

[ Miss Huang takes in the man as he approaches, and his attire does immediately stand out as strange. How isn't he cold?

But she smiles, brightly and politely, and maybe even a little more openly excited than she might normally be. Trying to exhibit a calm professionalism is a tad more difficult when you're shaking in your figurative boots here. ]

Hello, fellow Interloper! [ That's what they're calling people here, what she's been called, so she's going to play this role to the fullest extent until she meets the standards required of her and gets extracted from this place. ...That's what's going to happen, right? Surely. ]

There's some wood stacked inside, [ she assures him. No axe needed today (though she's now thinking it's a good idea the procures one...) But she pauses, tilting her head. ] What's kindling?

[ Oh no. She has no idea what she's doing. Dorian frowns a little before continuing, ]

Small sticks, twigs, or wood scraps that you use to start a fire. The whole log won't burn that well by itself at the start. You'll have to have something to keep it going.

[ The girl pauses at that, before a frown of her own tugs at the corners of her mouth. She.. definitely did not know that. She's never even heard of that. Survival 101 wasn't exactly what she and the other girls were taught at their school. Her experience at the Lumon ORTBO was her first time really being out in the wilderness or anything at all, out of the comfort and security of the town she'd grown up in.

But then she gathers herself and continues, cheerfully. ]

That makes sense! Maybe that's what the box of smaller wood I found is for...

[ Whoever had owned this cabin before here had a few stores of scraps, but she'd paid them no mind. Now, though... ]

How much do I need to put in? The whole thing or one at a time?

[ This poor child is absolutely going to freeze to death.

Oh well. Sucks to be her!

Dorian doesn't let that thought show, though. He's still calm and nonchalant, treating this conversation like it's an average, everyday conversation between two average, everyday people, as he points out, ]

That depends entirely on how big the box is. Mind if I come in and take a look myself?

[ Miss Huang perks up at the offer, enthused. How kind of this stranger! There's no thought at all to be wary of anyone here. Where she's from, no one hurts each other. At least, not on any surface level that can be detected so easily. ]

That would be very much appreciated! [ She cheerfully steps across the porch and inside the cabin's front door, holding it open for the man. Once in, she's moving to the fireplace where she's put in some of those dried pieces of firewood already. The room is dark and extremely cold; she shudders as her breath comes out in puffs of white fog. ]

This is the box I found. Is it... kindling? [ She hands him a small chest that's clearly handmade, within which are a few dozen small chunks of wood. They definitely look ideal for tossing into a fire. ]

[ Miss Huang is struggling with the cold, it seems to not bother Dorian in the slightest. His breath is still coming out in puffs of fog, but there's no shivering, no teeth chattering, nothing of the sort.

As he reaches for the chest, Dorian's fingers lightly brush against Miss Huang's—and they are freezing. Dorian seemingly takes no notice of that, though, as he opens the chest and gives it a once-over. ]

We'll be able to start a fire with this tonight. But you'll want to gather more kindling for any future fire. Small scraps of wood like this will work—hell, sticks would work as well. Just make certain they're dried out.

[ Dorian makes his way towards the fireplace, bending down to adjust the logs and arrange things for a proper fire. ]

Do you have any matches on you? That'll make things damn easier.

[ When the man's fingers brush against her own, it's actually shocking to the normally composed girl, enough so that she gives a soft gasp under her breath. For a moment, she's not sure what she's felt. It's like he's holding ice.

Her eyes sweep down to his hands as he moves, staring. There's no ice. There's nothing. Just bare fingers. Are they so cold because he hasn't been wearing gloves outside...? How is he okay? ]

Um— oh, yes, I found these. [ She fortunately does know what those are, and steps over to a nearby shelf to retrieve a box of wooden matches. Bringing them over to Dorian, she stares down at him, still taken aback. Being a very forthcoming kid, she's going to just straight-up ask. It's with a mix of surprise and the tiniest smidgen of judgment. Sir... please. This isn't very responsible. ]

Aren't you cold? You don't have any gloves on, or even a jacket.

If I was cold, I'd be wearing a jacket, [ Dorian points out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Duh, Miss Huang. That's obvious to him! Of course, he could say 'I was given a gift by that odd lady showing up in everyone's dreams that makes me immune to the cold,' but why would he do that? It's much more fun to be a dick to children.

As he takes the matches, Dorian bends down. He adjusts the kindling, getting everything set up for a perfect fire. He strikes a match against the side of the box, sitting it down next to the kindling. After a moment, the kindling itself starts to smolder. ]

There we go. Give it a few moments and we'll have a roaring blaze.

[ Miss Huang keeps busy, and doesn't stay still for long. It's evident that this training, or test, (or punishment), involves being part of a community in a survival situation. When she isn't working on her little cabin, she dresses in some of the warmest clothing she's been able to add to her own attire, pulls her hair back into neat pigtails, and wanders off into the darkness of the winter town with a purpose.

She's very often found at the general store, where she routinely brings items to trade, and to browse the selection of goods. At times she may be seen sitting down to have a cup of coffee like a full-grown adult. (She doesn't really enjoy the taste of it, but it's just One Of Those Things.) She'll also be poking into the library a lot, searching through books. When she doesn't find any of the teachings she's familiar with, she might approach you, asking politely where "the books on Kier" are located.

Or you might have come across the note she left at the Community Center, the one that definitely isn't faintly off-putting and creepy in the least. As promised, Miss Huang can be found there at the Community Center on a daily basis, where she makes an effort to help out with any tasks that need doing: cooking, washing or straightening bedsheets, taking stock of supplies with a clipboard in hand. She'll be introducing herself as "Miss Huang" all over the place, so it won't be difficult to find the person who left the message. And if you're stunned to find that she's a literal child.... well. She won't bat an eye about it. ]

Edited 2026-01-02 02:59 (UTC)

[Levi is kind of surprised and sad to see another kid here. This place was hard and sometimes dangerous, so no place for a kid. She seems rather put together...but that might not matter for a place like this.]

Um. A-are you Miss Huang?

[ The girl brightens as the other addresses her. Her demeanour's friendly, approachable (or at least she's trying very hard for it to be), but the way she studies him might also be mildly reminiscent of a scientist taking in an interesting specimen. ]

Hello! Why yes I am. And what may I call you?

O-oh, sorry, I'm Levi.

[He never remembers to introduce himself. He probably should have, since he's going to ask her something...but it was too late now.]

I, um, I saw your note. What sort of services?

[ Miss Huang's smile stays in place, polite. Internally, she's scanning the boy as quickly as she can, trying to make sense of him. She doesn't think he's an innie; he looks rather young. Probably he's from a school. He may even be an intern sent here for training, like her. ]

Anything I can do to facilitate your experience here. [ She repeats the words she'd written in her note like a parrot. ] I can assist you with tasks of labour and organisation, or even providing company so that your mental health doesn't suffer in this isolated environment.

Or if there's anything else you need!

Uh...but you just got here. It'd make more sense for me to offer those things to you.

[Except company for mental health. He doesn't get mental health.]

[ Her smiles softens a little. ]

That's very kind of you, Levi. But my new arrival here shouldn't mean that I get special treatment. I'm meant to be an asset.

[ She nods, cheerful. ]

How long have you been here? There may be a task you've grown a bit weary from, I can help.

[Meant to be an asset? What the fuck?]

I mean, um, I-I know more about this place than you do. And it usually takes people awhile to adjust, with the cold and the lack of power and all that.

I-I've been here since the start. About two and a half years I think.

[ That gives the girl pause, and for the first time that calm polite expression wavers. She's startled, eyes widening a bit. ]

Two and a half years?

[ That... can't be right. Or... he said he was here since "the start". That must mean ever since this remote community was established. He must not be an intern after all; this is where his full-time employment is. He's a worker here, not in training.

Never mind that she hasn't seen a single sign or document or uniform with a "LUMON" logo on it. ]

This is where you've been stationed? Can I ask, what exactly is the title of your job?

[Oh. She must still think this is somewhere in her world.]

N-no...We're only really stationed here because we can't go very far. There are a couple other towns, but we're all stuck on this island. And, um, I don't have one? Something between guard and hunter, I guess.

This place is very far from what you know. I'm sorry.

[ Stuck. And he doesn't have a job title.

Miss Huang draws in a fluttering breath, mouth opening. Uncertain, and a little stricken. If the young man isn't an employee, and he's been in this place for over two years, and they're stuck, then....

Is this.... banishment? No. No, surely not. She's just... in training. Maybe she's been sent to train among people who have been banished. ]

Who is your supervisor here? I'd like to speak to them, please.

[This part is never fun, but its best to rip the bandaid off.]

I don't have one. No one's really in charge here. Whatever you knew before isn't necessarily how things work here. Something else brought us all here.

[ Miss Huang stares at him, quietly, for a few long moments. ...Then she realises. This is a test. Of course it is. A test of her loyalty to Lumon, to her school, to the Eagan name. To Kier himself.

The girl slowly smiles — that even, practiced one — again. ]

I understand. No matter whatever our circumstances may be here, I have faith that Kier's light will guide me. And I will follow it without question.

[ Yeah she's definitely part of a cult. ]

Edited 2026-01-03 23:00 (UTC)

[Oh, one of those. They'll figure it out eventually, nothing he can really do to speed that up.]

Kier?

[ The girl gives a patient smile. Of course he knows who Kier is; there's no way that he wouldn't. Everyone knows Kier.

But this is certainly part of the test, and it makes sense why it would be. ]

Kier Eagan — the founder of Lumon Industries. Our great leader. He has tamed the four Tempers, and through his teachings and guidance, we may learn to do the same.

Oh. I don't think we have any of that where I came from.

[ She'll keep playing along, here. The girl tilts her head curiously. ]

Where are you from?

Bohemia. Not that any body else's world has it.

[ "Bohemia" actually does sound a bit familiar to her, but it's not something she remembers much about from her very insular studies at her school. ]

What's it like there?

Its, um...not as cold as here.

[He really doesn't have anything nice to say of it. And its probably dead now anyway.]

I imagine it must be quite the adjustment to adapt to this place, then. Is there anything still giving you trouble, here?

[Just the Darkwalker, really.]

No, I've figured pretty much everything out here.

[ All right... Maybe another approach, then? She smiles politely again. ]

Is there anything you can think of that I can help the rest of the community with?

You can probably help in the greenhouse, or with hunting or trapping if you want. Its never bad to have a store of food.

[ Now we're talking! ]

Wonderful, thank you. Where might I find this greenhouse?

Oh, its [Insert directions here.]

Its Chloe's, so you'll probably want to talk to her about what's needed.

Chloe... Got it.

[ The little girl beams, pleased that she now has a task to look forward to, and sticks her hand out for a handshake, shoulders rolled back, standing as tall as she can. ]

Thank you for the information, Levi.

[Levi shakes her hand; his grip is rather weak.]

No problem. Let me know if I can answer or help with anything else.

[Checking the message board in the Community hall was part of his routine whenever he was at the Community Hall. Every new scrap of paper was easily noted at this point, and Miss Huang's note is fingered gently as he glances around. While he'd been distracted at Methuselah's last feast, wrapped up in his own personal hell, he was a little more clear eyed now.

It didn't take too much of a jump to guess that maybe this note had been written by the new face he noted. Young. Damned shame.

Regardless, he ambles over towards the little girl and lifts his chin faintly in greeting.]

New here, huh? You the Miss Huang attached to that new note on the board?

Edited 2026-01-04 17:31 (UTC)

[ Miss Huang smiles at the stranger who approaches her — polite and cheerful, but maybe just a smidgen too practiced. Even her voice has the cadence of an answering machine recording. ]

Good afternoon! Yes, I'm Miss Huang.

[ ...Something does break her out of her kneejerk robotic greeting though, and it's a certain enthusiasm that someone saw her note. That her efforts are working. Her smile brightens a little. ]

I'm very pleased that you noticed the note I left! Are you in need of some assistance?

[It was very odd to get the sense that Miss Huang would be less out of place if she were surrounded by pen protectors and pamphlets. Maybe it was the clipboard.]

You get drafted as Milton's concierge? I read 'services' and 'facilitation' and I'm just.. not quite sure what that aims to mean.

[There was no jibe in the tone, he was mostly joking, but there was a curiosity as to what the angle was here. Seeing the note's author brought around more questions than it answered. Par for the course.]

An' Raylan Givens, pleasure to meet you. [His manners weren't all gone.]

[ Miss Huang pauses at that word, head tilted to the side in curiosity. She's reminded of some of those big words that Mr. Milchick uses, the ones she so often has to ask him the meanings to. There's a flutter of anxiety in her chest all of a sudden — it's not that she misses the man, exactly, but... he was familiar. He was her supervisor; she's used to following his guidance and every footstep. ]

What's... concierge mean?

[ While she waits, she smiles again at him, committing the name to memory. Raylan Givens... If he gives his full surname like that, he must not be an innie, right? So he's an unsevered Lumon worker, then. (Girl.... no...) ]

It's nice to meet you as well, Raylan Givens. I look forward to working together here.

[Okay, so she looked and smelled corporate in that kneejerk gut feeling kind of way that had led him very well around his entire career, but she likely had an education that matched her age. Or she was just wildly good in one particular area or something.]

A concierge is someone who works a front desk in higher end hotels and facilitates- [See what he did there. He didn't doubt she knew the meaning of the words she did use and he wasn't the type to get annoyed at questions. Best way to find out what you didn't know was to ask.] - guests needs. What museums or restaurants or theaters they should go see.

But 'work' implies we're gettin' benefits and as thankful as I am for Methuselah's soup each month, I'm hard-pressed to call that reasonable compensation.

[ The girl hangs onto the man's every word with rapt attention, and then she's perking up both at his explanation and the use of that word she seems so fond of. Facilitate. ]

Oh! That does sound a lot like what I do!

[ Or... did. Still does? Since this clearly isn't the Empathy Center, she has to assume it's part of her training at Lumon, so... present tense, maybe. She mans a front desk and facilitates what's needed for those on her floor. ]

I'm a manager. [ Said proudly, chin lifted. Technically a deputy manager, but right now there's no Mr. Milchick, so she has to assume more responsibility, right? ]

Benefits? [ She tilts her head again, mouth tugging to the side in thought before she smiles cheerfully again. ] The only benefit that's needed is knowing we've done work we can be proud of! We're improving the world and the lives of people across it.

[ Charles has never been too bothered by the fact that he doesn't like reading. It caused him some grief in school, of course, but ever since his death he's had Edwin there to do all the book bits when the text gets too small and cramped. Without much to do here, though, he'd finally turned to the extensive collection of pulp novels lining the shelves in his cabin, and found himself quite promptly absorbed.

He's made his way through about half of them, by now. Mostly bodice rippers - both tame and excitingly explicit - but there are a few of those serial mysteries with bizarre themes. The Maine Clambake Mysteries were a bit repetitive (there's only so much you can write about clams), but the Amish Quilt Shop Mystery Series is proving far more intriguing.

When the little girl approaches him, he's sliding Clammed Up onto a shelf, right next to Shucked Apart. His first instinct is to crowd closer to the bookcase, not wanting a kid to see any volumes of the Sweet Nothings Vintage Lingerie Mystery Series, but her question catches him off guard. ]

Not that I've seen? [ He looks around the place, as though he might catch sight of the unfamiliar word from afar. ] I don't, like, work here, though. Just dropping off some books I've finished.

[ There's a clear startle in her face at that reply, to begin with. It's practically unthinkable that there wouldn't be anything about Kier Eagan on these shelves. But when the young man continues, she's smiling again, something that appears on her face abruptly, like a switch has gone off. It's undeniably practiced, all the way down to how she holds herself — standing up straight, poised, head tilted upwards just a bit as though alert. ]

You must not have noticed them yet. [ She deduces. Surely that's the explanation, right. The books and documents are here, the young man just hasn't seen them yet. (Of course, she has to wonder what in the world he'd be interested in reading, apart from books on Kier!)

Forthcoming as ever, the girl's going to outright ask... She watches him with polite curiosity, but also an intensity, as though preparing herself not to miss a beat. ]

What books did you read?

the frost, it looks like dust, settled on the world —

methuselah's feast.

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at her cabin.

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around town.

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Community Hall - Early early January

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library.

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