methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2023-11-09 04:18 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2023-11-09 04:18 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- alluri rama raju: xil,
- bigby wolf: jelle,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- dean winchester: verna,
- edward little: jhey,
- harry goodsir: karin,
- jack kline: jean,
- jason mcconnell: balsam,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- kieren walker: cheryl,
- knives: lassie,
- la'an noonien-singh: amy,
- levi jordan: cirape,
- louis de pointe du lac: tea,
- max mayfield: jean,
- rei ayanami (ii): floral,
- rorschach: shade,
- thomas jopson: kota,
- tim drake: fox,
- vash the stampede: fen,
- vash the stampede: fyn,
- wynonna earp: lorna
nature offers a violence
NOVEMBER 2023 EVENT
PROMPT ONE — WHITEOUT: Methuselah makes an unexpected early return to Milton to warn Interlopers of an impending monster storm, and boy does it surely come.
PROMPT TWO — A CHOICE: Following the storm, sightings of a mysterious stag prompts a hunt down in the Basin and out in the Outskirts.
PROMPT THREE — REST MY WEARY BONES: While the storm causes a great deal of mess, it also uncovers some far more pleasant surprises. Hot springs.
WHITEOUT
WHEN: Early to mid-month.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: extreme weather; storms; blizzards; themes of survival; possible character cold-related injuries; possible themes of peril.
In the times that he is no longer occupying the Community Hall in the center of town to help tend to the newcomers, Methuselah is out in the wilds. Despite his growing age, he is a hardened survivor, and has been more than accustomed to life living as a nomad, out in the thickest, deepest parts of nature. Sometimes he can be encountered, sheltered in a cave or out in the woods, huddled by a warm campfire, or busying himself with his latest game catch. He seems to be always on the move, never staying for too long, and never coming into town — unless it’s to begin preparations for the latest batch of new arrivals.
To see him returning to Milton outside of these times is a curious sight, and the grim expression he carries is enough to make anyone wary. Even his voice is grave. The warmth and kindness usually found in his expression is gone, replaced with a deathly seriousness. He doesn’t speak in jest.
"I am long used to this world and its weather, even with the changing times to more bitter nights." he will say. "I have seen the years rise and fall, too many to count. Please, I beg that you hear me with this— a storm is coming. Greater than some of you may have ever known. It is in the air, and we must prepare to see it through. We do not have much time. Three days, perhaps. But no more."
He will tell anyone and everyone; encouraging the word to be spread around. He will instruct on what needs to be done, what needs to be gathered. The storm will be long and hard, and will last for some time. With that, Methuselah will begin to prepare the Community Hall as a place of refuge with a stock of food, fuel and water to get through the storm. Interlopers will be free to join Methuselah and bunker down together, or can choose to bunker down on their own in their own homes, or with others.
You have only three days.
And sure enough, the storm comes. Maybe you can notice the signs too: the sudden updraft, the slow gathering of clouds, the drop in temperature, the changes of pressure in the air.
Halfway through the third day, the storm rolls in: a ferocious snow-storm unlike anything you’ve seen before. Even with the fading amount of daylight as mid-winter approaches, the sky turns as dark as night as will stay like night for the duration. Strong howling winds batter the town, and even the sturdiest of buildings creak and groan under the weight. Trees will be felled, some buildings might not fare the storm.
Relentless snow that falls so hard it’s a complete whiteout, and will be impossible to navigate if one were to step outside. Even then, it isn’t advisable. The temperature is bitter, with a frigid windchill. Going out in this kind of storm would be a death sentence. Staying out in it for longer than a half-hour will certainly kill you.
It would be best to wait it out, to huddle around warm fires in the darkness. It may certainly be a test of patience, depending on your choice of place to stay. The storm will last a full week, a stark reminder of what you are, the words you have heard in your arrival: thrown to Mother Nature’s mercy, the Interloper in her design.
But will you persist?
A CHOICE
WHEN: Mid-month, onwards to end of month.
WHERE: Milton Basin, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: survival themes; themes of hunting; possible animal death.
After the storm passes, there’s a certain kind of hush that falls upon Milton and its surrounding areas as Interlopers are left to pick through the wake. While the temperature certainly doesn’t get that much warmer, there’s days and nights of clear, calm weather — short afternoons of weak sunshine and nights of chilly peace, the moon hung high in the starry skies. Winter is drawing ever-closer, but it’s still for a little while.
In the early evenings, before the sun sets, there’s strange sightings of a particular white stag that can be found roaming the area — particularly down in the Milton Basin. It seems quite elusive, but there’s plenty of Interlopers that have been able to capture a glimpse over the coming days. Even Methuselah himself has seen this beast before, remarking there has long been tall tales of a ghostly stag that roams the Northern Territories and is said to bring good fortune to those who manage to hunt it down.
Perhaps you’re a little low on luck. Perhaps you’re feeling lucky. You’re going to find that stag.
Hunting down the stag, however, will take a great deal of patience and time. You might find yourself waiting several hours to wait for it to appear. Building a snow shelter, or hunkering down in some old shack might be needed in order to keep warm. But if you’re patient enough, and able to withstand the cold for long enough — the beast will soon make an appearance.
In the dying light of the day, it is there. It’s unlike any deer you’ve seen before: tall and majestic, with thick, soft fur of brilliant white. It almost looks ghost-like in some angles, it’s an incredibly beautiful creature. But it seems to have also noticed you, just as you have noticed it. It doesn’t dart away, however. Instead it stands before you, waiting for you to act.
You have a choice: slay the creature, or let it go.
It will not move until you make your decision, holding your gaze until you raise your weapon or until you lower it and give up your hunt. But there is a consequence to either action: if you choose to kill the stag, you will be rewarded with a sizeable bounty of venison. Eating said meat will help you feel fuller for longer, and the meat will keep for far longer than any other deer slain.
However, if you choose to spare the stag, the creature will lower its head, as if bowing to you. Then, it will disappear with a swirling of powdered snow. When you return home for the evening and go to sleep, the next morning you will find a gift at the foot of your bed: a pair of deerskin boots, or a deerskin blanket. These boots are supple, tough and waterproof — allowing for a great balance of mobility and warmth. The blanket is incredibly toasty, and will provide a great deal of comfort in the long nights ahead.
REST MY WEARY BONES
WHEN: Mid-month, onwards indefinitely.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a.
The storm has blown in plenty of snow to make traversing the area much more difficult, but there’s something else of note that comes with its passing. While the storm has brought much devastation, and some places have been buried in snow drifts, plenty of snow in areas has been blown away, uncovering otherwise lost secrets within Milton. Clouds of what looks like steam can be noted not too far from town, towards the mountains of the north.
If Interlopers head to explore the clouds, they will find old trails leading up towards the mountains. It isn’t a particularly difficult journey, for once, and they will soon discover that the storm has blown away the previously blocked access to a cave. It appears that this is the right place.
The air is warm here, pleasantly so. Warm enough that hats and mittens and coats seem a little unnecessary. One might wonder if someone lives within, and that a great fire is stoked to keep the place warm. But there’s no one in sight, no sounds of life: human, animal or otherwise. If they press on, they will discover that the cave floor is well worn with footfall: plenty of people have come here before, and the reason why is soon revealed.
The air grows even warmer, and more humid. The space opening to reveal small pools of slow-flowing water, warm water. The stone houses a natural hot spring, and following the cave out the other side will lead to another space in the rock open to the air, where there are even larger pools of warm water, perfectly sized and deep enough to bathe in. It seems that this place was frequently used by the people of Milton, where their life of hardship could be forgotten for an hour or two.
The water is pleasantly hot, and incredibly inviting. After so long in the freezing cold without modern appliances and utilities, a natural hot spring sounds like an absolute luxury.
FAQs
1. Characters are free to play around with this prompt how they want. Maybe they're dumb enough to go into the cold and get injured or sick. Maybe they're stuck in the Community Hall for the week. Fights might break out as tensions run high whilst everyone's stuck together, or maybe you're actually having a nice time.
2. For those stuck in the Community Hall: there are board games and old school textbooks stored in cupboards. There is also a piano.
3. A floorplan of the Community Hall can be found here.
1. .... Yes, you can pet the ghost stag.
2. Characters will get one choice only with the ghost stag, meaning they can't keep going back to find it to get extra gifts.
3. If characters can't agree on a course of action, whoever acts first will get their gift. The second character will have a chance to try again another time.
4. If both characters agree on sparing the stag, but players want different gifts (ie. one player wants the boots and one wants the blanket), characters will get the gift the player wants their character to receive.
1. The hot springs will now be a permanent fixture in the Milton Area, enjoy!
Ruby Rose | RWBY
[Ruby was not a stranger to prepping for a crisis. On the bright side the panic here didn't immediately attract a monster attack like it did in her own world. Which was nice- it meant she could focus on other things.
When the day starts she can be found with axe in hand in a red flannel jacket chopping wood and piling it up to be taken over to the community center. For a seventeen year old she's got lot of strength and endurance to keep at the task for awhile. But as the day goes on she eventually feels the labor start to catch up on her and falls back into snow bank.]
Wooofff--- Okay. Gimme five and I'll be back in there, coach.
Gathering
[And because she doesn't know how to stop, Ruby can be found at the community center when she's not cutting up additional firewood. She glances around at the supplies already gathered and does her best to raise up a hand.]
Hey! Excuse me! Is there anything we're super low on!? Food? Blankets? What ever it is I'll do a run through town to see if I can find it.
[And she points to whoever else is passing by.]
Are you busy? Want to come with?
The Storm
[Ruby had figured sticking around the community center was the best bet to weather the storm. She was better suited and more at ease in a place with more people that she could help if the need came about. For the most part she's bundled up in her winter gear as best and a couple blankets doing her best to keep warm. Every once in awhile she'll pass by a window and try to get a look outside.]
...Is that, someone out there?
[She's not sure if it's her eyes playing tricks on her because she's bored. Or if it's someone actually in danger, but all the same she suddenly looks more tense and ready to act.]
Winter Fun
[With the storm having passed the best thing Ruby can do is try to lift some spirits. So in the most open area she can find she starts working to livin' things up a little. There are a couple basic snow men built or half built in an attempt to encourage people to join in and build their own. A snow angel or two around the edges of the little clearing. and last but not least, in the very center Ruby stands atop a fort she has built. A pile of snow balls at her side.]
Come one, come all! To Ruby's Winter Wonderland Extravaganza! Where fun is mandatory, or else!
[And she picks up one of the snowballs and tosses it into the air.
...Where it promptly falls down onto her head.]
Rest My Weary Bones
[Honestly after all is said and done, Ruby is absolutely exhausted. It takes some work to actually get herself up to the hot springs but she does manage to get there, she'll even drag someone else there too if she has to. No matter how she tries she can't shake off the need to look out for anyone and everyone else.
But once she gets there she strips down to her underwear and an extra towel that she's managed get a hold of and sinks in to the hot water. It's only then that it becomes a little more clear just how hard she's pushes herself, there's a handful of fading but still dark bruises on her arms and legs from pushing through to get the supplies were needed. Along with a handful of old scars from past fights.
Either way she doesn't seem too bothered by this, and gives a long sigh of relief.]
Okay. This is actually kind of nice.
Wild Card
[Want to choose your own adventure? Go ahead! Or feel free to contact me at jjabarrett on plurk or discord and we can chat.]
Re: Ruby Rose | RWBY
Louis shivers in his warm overcoat. He didn't grow up with snow. It doesn't occur to him why this girl would have built a snow fort other than just seeing if she could, like with the snowmen. He's walking within range without a care except for where he needs to find his next meal.
She nails herself with a snowball, and he freezes in place. "Does this Winter Wonderland Extravaganza involve snow in my collar?" he asks apprehensively.
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Gathering
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chopping wood
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Winter Fun
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winter fun
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Rest My Weary Bones
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VASH | trigun stampede
02. A CHOICE
03. SNOW ADVENTURES
04. REST MY WEARY BONES
05. WILDCARD
01; door knocking
It's easy to think that nobody's home. All of the curtains are drawn and there's no light coming from inside - not even a fire. The front walkway hasn't been shoveled. The only sign of life are small sets of human-looking footprints going to and from the front door.
Inside, Rei is sat at the kitchen counter, looking at a pair of broken glasses and a can of beans. She's been there for a while. Don't worry about how long. But after a while, she pulls away from the entertaining scene. If she's learned anything from last time, whoever's knocking will probably enter, one way or another.
Rei opens the door a small crack, a single red eye peering out from the gap. She looks up at her visitor. She says nothing, trusting her silence and the fact that she won't open the door all the way to convey enough. What are you doing here? ]
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> for flambeaux;
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Rabbit Season (whiteout) | Tim Drake | DC Comics
Whiteout: Community Hall (cw, discussion of animal death, breeding, and other survival themes throughout)
[It's been more than one day, less than four days. Maybe? It's dark and crowded and the sounds of the storm compete every second with the noise of the people sheltered here.
Sometimes there's a calm, some contagious feeling where the ruckus and moving around is minimal and it can almost be peaceful, being imprisoned with so many others, unsure of their tomorrow. Usually when there's food.
Food, glorious food.
There is also (bear with him here) a stage just next to the sleeping quarters with some cots sprinkled about. This rising little shelf of space where Tim can easily imagine a grade schooler singing their first big solo for the town Talent Show. Before the Interlopers, before the ghosts and the lost gods. The funny thing about people-- there's an urge to look up, when someone claims the space. It's almost involuntary. It's just a thing that happens.
Tim needs that moment of collective attention before it's stolen by some yahoo, the captive audience (literally. captive.) subjected to a very inspired cover of Master of Puppets. (It must be nice to have anxiety over public speaking, over demanding the spotlight.)
And so... here we are. He's hauled himself up the stage (one arm useless and stiff and protected against his middle).
He's projecting his voice just well enough, he's enunciating but not slow when he speaks. He's got a proposition and nothing to lose.]
I need your attention for a few moments. I'll keep it short. Under a minute if I don't stutter. [Dear captive audience, he won't stutter.]
I don't need to tell you that the storm is dangerous or that it won't be the only one we're going to have to face. With a good percent of us all in one place, it's as good a time as any to pool our resources together. I'm talking about our knowledge and understanding of our situation, because material things here are largely unreliable.
We won't keep wasting so many resources, people, weapons, energy, and time, on fetching something unpredictable. Risky. Something that takes us away from the safety of our shelters. Not when winter's approaching and we have an upper hand against Mother Nature in this community.
The project of farming a sustainable food source should start now to decrease the cost of feeding us all in the coming months. I'm asking you-- anyone who has worked with the animals, who hunts and tracks and traps. Anyone who knows their way around butchering. And who can do some good math. Help us out. We'll be discussing this so long as we're here, to put the plan in action when it's safe enough to do so.
Consider it, so the investment in this now grows to be worthwhile for everyone.
[--who is this mysterious 'we'. Anyway, the boy can be found here and there within the Hall as the storm rages on, clearly busy in that way someone is when they're always used to being busy, even when there's really nothing going on.]
no subject
I can, um...
[And then it hits him that he's talking in front of a bunch of people and he barely knows any of them. Give him a moment to catch his breath.]
...I've hunted before. N-not much, but some. I, ah, think we should start doing it soon. And, um, I've, uh, I've followed human tracks...t-that has to be similar to animal tracks right?
[Oh god, why did he do this, why didn't he wait until Tim was alone or just put something on the board.]
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movers & shakers
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ cw: past suicidal tendencies/intent
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Louis | event CWs apply
Whiteout Milton
Against advice about the impending storm, Louis stayed in his abandoned home. A starved vampire is dangerous, both because they've been weakened and because they're more likely to attack first and ask questions later. Louis still clings to inconvenient things like compassion and ethics and practicality, all of which tell him not to put himself in a position where he must kill the residents of Milton. He imagines them finding his resting place in retaliation and incinerating him, coffin and all.
He still clings to life, ungracefully.
As the storm rages on, he is forced to admit he cannot survive on his own. He's hungry, and the creatures of the night have retreated into burrows he can't access. Bundling up and shouldering a bag of supplies, he exits the house to make his way to the Community Hall.
He's normally very sure on his feet, but the cold bite of the wind slows him immediately. Within a few steps, he feels like he's dying.
"HEY!"
Whiteout Community Hall
cw: vampiric thirst
It's been days and the storm isn't letting up. Louis finds new hiding spaces to curl up to sleep during the day, his current favorite being hidden among backstage storage.
During dark hours Louis huddles in a blanket by himself, reluctant to be around people as time marches on. He's peaky, and there are shadows under his eyes. He chews a little at the edge of his lip. He looks lost in the intensity of whatever he's thinking about. It's not food... of a conventional sort.
A Choice
Ah--he's been made. Metropolitan man about town Louis de Pointe du Lac was prepared for this backcountry moment of failure: a deer noticing him and immediately bolting as deer do--
It's creepy when prey doesn't act like prey.
"You should know better than to trust the strange two-legged creatures with guns and knives and all manner of unpleasantries," he says deliberately. "Something wrong with you. I don't want what you've got. Go on. Get."
He makes a shooing motion with his fancy walking stick, not bothering to unsheathe the knife hidden in it.
Rest My Weary Bones
Though he's terrible at hunting without his vampiric powers, the hunt is always on his mind. It's his own hellish version of preventing starvation. Upon discovering the hot springs, he quickly figured his prey (animal, human) would congregate here. He doesn't want to disturb the peace directly in it, but if he can take a rabbit, say, quickly and quietly, he will. Waiting out the storm was rough on him.
Louis pilfered a pair of plain black swim trunks for this trip. He plans to go alone, but he knows he might run into anyone. The trunks are insurance against any embarrassing mishaps. He dated a European; that doesn't mean he's going to be bare ass to the wind about it. Furthermore, while he isn't slight, he's a little self-conscious that he isn't more muscular.
Changing in the privacy of an alcove, he isn't aware of anyone else here until he enters one of the little springs in the cave, carrying a small bag of toiletries. He stops, goes very still with his bright green eyes widening... then decides to pretend nothing is amiss. Deluding himself and others is one of his great skills.
Click headings to expand | Feel free to change details if these don't quite work | Plotting
a choice
"Nah," he says, looking back to Louis for a moment, before turning to the deer. "Look at it. It obviously wants something. Give it a moment, it'll tell us soon enough."
He's heard the rumors. He knows this means something.
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Whiteout Milton
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Community Hall
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cw brief drugs mention
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Rest My Weary Bones
cw: racism mention
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Whiteout Milton
Re: Whiteout Milton
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Jason McConnell | bare: a pop opera
[ Jason's a team player. He doesn't stay in the community hall -- living around that many strangers without so much as a door for privacy sounds like a nightmare, thanks -- but they're all in this together, right? He ducks out at night and makes sure his own little cabin is stocked up, but he'll be pretty visible those two days. He has no real idea what he's doing when it comes to fixing things, cooking, chopping wood, or anything else useful for preparing for poor weather. But he's good at following directions; and he's got height, strength, and the willingness to go up to pretty much any stranger that's struggling and ask them if they need a hand.
If the topic comes up, he'll be pretty open about planning to shelter out the storm in his own little cabin. He has blankets and wood and food and he's pretty close to the community hall if worst comes to worst. How bad can it really be? Feel free to try to convince him to change his mind; it's just not likely to work. ]
(2) WHITEOUT: mistakes have been made
[ The answer to "how bad can it be" turns out to be very very bad thanks. It also turns out Jason makes a shitty fire. In his defense, it's stacking wood and putting a match to it, he didn't realize you could be bad at that.
Anyway, he barely gets through a day before he's starting to realize this may not have been his best plan. He'll stick it out for night two, shivering under what might be every spare scrap of fabric he could find in this cabin, before finally accepting come morning that he has no idea how much longer this will last, and he can't stay here by himself.
Stepping out into the cold, even bundled as thoroughly as possible, feels like an even bigger mistake. But he's only, what, ten minutes from the hall? Maybe twenty with the wind? He'll be fine!
...He will not be fine. That becomes clear very quickly. Someone please help drag him inside. ]
(3) WHITEOUT & AFTERMATH: restlessness
[ Look. There's the storm of the... some amount of time out there. (He's not holding out hope there won't be a worse one.) There's a distinct lack of privacy. And Jason's nursing what he's hoping is just a rough cold from making his way to the community hall in the middle of the snow. There's a lot of reasons he should probably just be lying on a cot and getting some sleep, but this fails to account for one very important factor: he is easily bored.
He'll politely keep his distance as much as possible unless invited closer, at least until the sniffling and the rawness in his throat clears up, not wanting to get anyone else sick. But he's still actively on the hunt for something to do pretty much as soon as he warms up again. Board games? Conversation? Exploring what little there is to explore in the community hall? Doing any little fixing jobs that people point out that he can figure out how to do? He'll try it at some point over the week. Feel free to join him. Or make suggestions. Or be annoyed by him. Or find him blundering in on an awkward moment of attempted privacy.
It's even worse once the sickness and the snow clear up. Fixing the town up after the storm, snowball fights, the occasional jog around a clear path: whenever the sun's up, he's probably outside taking advantage of the chance to stretch his legs. If anyone can find a ball, he'll probably try to talk people into some kind of makeshift game as well. Who doesn't need a little exercise, after being cooped up all week? ]
(4) REST MY WEARY BONES
[ Once news of the hot springs spread back to the rest of the Interlopers, you can find him there several times a week. It's warm and clean and why would you not take advantage of it? Not like there's a whole lot else to do.
He's modest enough to wear a pair of shorts as a makeshift bathing suit, but he's not particularly body shy, happy to strip off in front of anyone who's already there. Mostly he's here to enjoy himself, but he's friendly if anyone wants to make conversation, will even encourage anyone hanging around looking curious with a mild: ] You should try it, it feels great.
e. WILDCARD
[[ Feel free to run with something else. Or hit me up for a closed starter or to discuss anything, either at
1
Hence why he's hard at work to make sure everything is ready for the storm at the community hall. Bigby's been hauling some wood, and has probably enlisted Jason to help carry some over to the community hall with him after the other asked to help out.
.. though the moment the topic of Jason planning on staying out there in his own little cabin comes up, Bigby raises a sceptical eyebrow, even as they're still walking. ]
Are you for real?
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2 cw existentialism??? depression??? 17 yr old boi
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Edward Little ⚓ The Terror
WHITEOUT — COMMUNITY CENTER
A CHOICE / REST MY WEARY BONES / ETC.
For other plans & prompts, I will be sticking to tagins and closed starters! Feel free to hit me up if you'd like a thing — plot post here ⚓
whiteout - community center - food storage
What the great storm means is that he's trapped inside again. Trapped even more completely than last time. And it means that any gloves he'd been able to borrow or blankets he'd snatched from beds in order to endure going out during the three days before all this had to go back where they came from, and all he has again is clothes which were well-suited to the now forgotten warmth of the city, and terribly suited even for the insides of the buildings here. He paces back and forth in front of the fire whenever he can stand spending long enough in one place for the warmth to try and seep in. In the meantime, Edward isn't the only one who's been patrolling.
Keeping track of the food stores would be something, wouldn't it? And it isn't a bad way to push himself. It's colder still down here in the basement, of course, and he'll have to get used to this damned cold sooner rather than later. Raju's arms are wrapped loosely around himself with hands tucked under his arms, shoulders hunched, jaw tight, but his lips twitch into a little smile when he sees a man set up with a table down here, obviously standing — sitting — guard. After a moment to assess him anyway, Raju's eyes quick and watchful— but he does smile.
"I see you and I had the same idea. Any trouble yet? Who's been trying to take more than their share?"
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White Out - Storm Preparation
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Storm Prep
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cw: vampire thirsty boy
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WHITEOUT — STORM PREPARATION
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community center - game time
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whiteout - storm prep
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Whiteout - Community Center - Sitting at a table
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( Kate Marsh )
she's just GETTING RIGHT TO IT!!!
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( Tim Drake ) cw: mentions of suicidal ideation / attempt
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Harry Goodsir | The Terror
I. Whiteout
In the days before the storm, Goodsir is busy shifting medical supplies to the community hall. He sets up in a corner so that anyone who needs help will know where to find him, and as the storm begins, he moves in to stay there for the duration. Sometimes you may catch him staring out the windows, a haunted look on his face.
II. After the Storm
When the storm is over, he stays in the community hall for a few extra days before returning to his house, where he is once again available to anyone who needs medical help. When he hears about the stag, he isn't quite sure how to feel about it ... and soon may be noticed keeping an eye on Hickey a bit more.
III. Rest My Weary Bones
[ CW: References to self-harm, that thing he did in episode 10, you know the one. ]
When word reaches him about the hot springs, he makes his way there. He is not prepared for the intensity of emotion that hits him when he steps into the warm, humid cave—he hasn't felt air like this in a very long time. When he puts his hand into the heated water, he can't keep back tears.
He doesn't actually get into the water, however, until he's alone (or thinks he's alone). He's uncomfortable in his body now; he almost can't look at himself without thinking of what he did in the mutineers' camp—not to mention the scars on his forearms that provide a not-so-helpful reminder. But when he thinks it's safe, he plunges in ... and stays there for nearly an hour. Hot water. Imagine.
IV. Wildcard
[ Anything else? Go for it. Plotting comment is here, for reference. ]
I
He approaches the doctor shyly. "Um...i-if you need any help..."
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ii/iv-ish?
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Whiteout
Re: Whiteout
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II
Re: II
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ii
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II
Re: II
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Wynonna Earp | Wynonna Earp
PLOTTING POST |
whiteout — open.
I'd be fine on my own. I always have been before.
[ But the imaginary Waverly brooks no arguments, so Wynonna has wound up here at the Community Hall, carving out a little slice of space for herself, eying everyone else milling around. She'd brought some of the wood she'd cut earlier and she's managed a few neutral interactions with some of the other people here, so... Who knows. Maybe things will be different.
In the first few days, she can be found leaning back in a chair, boots up on one of the tables, idly shuffling a deck of well-worn cards and dealing them out to whoever seems interested. ]
The game is five-card draw, folks.
[ A beat, as she reconsiders. ]
Unless none of you know how to play, in which case: the game is 'go fish.' Buy-in... whatever the hell you feel like, I'm not a fucking casino.
[ But as the time goes on, tension sets in. It's there in the line of her shoulders, in the terse way she reacts to even the most innocuous of comments. She spends more time than she needs cleaning Peacemaker, considering she hasn't fired the old Buntline Special since she got here. Find her lost in her thoughts sipping a mug of tea by a boarded up window or prowling restlessly around the edges of the hall like a caged animal.
Okay. So maybe things won't be so different, after all. ]
Re: whiteout — open.
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a black sheep — closed, for fidior.
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a choice — closed, for dimensionalcanopener.
rest my weary bones — open.
aw ye let's do the thing
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Levi | Fear & Hunger 2: Termina
Whiteout | All open
He'd never seen much snow before showing up here. It snowed some in the winters, but it never really lasted in Prehevil. And during the war it quickly got mixed in with mud (among other things) and lost its appeal. After a few months in Milton he'd gotten used to it, but this storm was the first time he's seen it really come down. Its amazing, if terrible, and sort of mesmerizing to watch. On and off during the first day Levi can be found peering out the windows, watching the snow come down. Its one of the very, very few chances to show that he still has some sense of childlike wonder within his tattered heart.
1b
But the wonder could only last so long, so by the time the second day came around Levi was over the storm. Snow was back to being an annoying, cold thing he had to deal with and wished was gone. Even worse now, since it kept him from going out. Normally he'd be patrolling during the day, but its not safe to do that. He doesn't really know how to occupy his time otherwise. He paces around the building every so often, and can be found in a corner stripping, cleaning and reassembling his rifle multiple times a day. Cause what else is he gonna do? Unless, of course, you have a better idea.
2
Though he tried, Levi can't stay inside the entire time. He's taken it upon himself to help protect the village, and what if there was trouble out in the storm? Between that worry and the need to get some air he does find himself outside sometimes. At least once a day, and night, he does what amount of patrolling he can. The storm is too strong for him to go far, so instead he just circles the hall, making sure he can always see at least one wall. He has his rifle in hand, but if he spots anyone he keeps it pointed at the ground. Wolves would be crazy to be out in this and other monsters didn't seem to appear, so odds were the dark shape he sees was another person.
"Hello? Do you need help?"
1a
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Rest my Weary Bones
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2!
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vash the stampede — trigun maximum
[ The church is well-stocked and as prepared for the storm as he and his fellow plants could get it to be. The smart thing to do would be to just stay put and sit out the storm right there where, despite the ominous creaking of the building, it's a lot safer than outside. The problem is that Vash has never been one to do the wise thing. Between going somewhat stir-crazy and the increased bickering between him and his brother, the temptation to go outside becomes too great to resist. Once upon a time the need to constantly move and never stay put anywhere for very long had been a necessity born out of being the most wanted man on the planet, now it's a habit that's simply too hard to shake. There could be people stuck out there and that's a good enough excuse to don his coat and goggles and slip outside when no one's looking with the conviction that it'll be fine so long as he doesn't stray too far from the church.
Perhaps you run into him in his search for stranded souls, ready to try and lead you to the community hall or the church, or maybe he's gotten himself hopelessly lost and is the one in need of rescue. Either way, there's a dot of red amongst all the white, calling out. ]
Hello!
II. A CHOICE
[ As curious as he is, Vash has no desire to hunt the stag once he learns of its existence. Even if it's only to catch a glimpse of it, it would feel mean to disturb its peace. He knows all too well what it's like to be hunted down. Still, as he's out and about in the forest gathering whatever he needs — be it foraging for food, collecting wood, checking traps — he does keep a surreptitious eye out for both the stag and those who might be hunting it.
If he spots anyone who seems to be actively looking for it, he'll offer a friendly wave and a cheerful: ]
You're not here to kill it, are you?
III. HOT SPRINGS
A — [ The hot springs are a blessing when the cold very much affects his tattered body yet Vash doesn't immediately leap on the chance to get a nice warm soak in. Instead he waits until some ungodly time in the night or morning to make his trips up to the hot springs. It's only after he thinks he's made sure no one else is around that he strips down and takes his prosthetic arm off — setting it down somewhere within easy reach — before settling into the soothing embrace of
the warm water. It's not that he's particularly ashamed of how heavily scarred he is, it's just that he's well-aware of how grisly it looks and he doesn't want to make anyone uncomfortable with his appearance. So to avoid that scenario altogether, he opts to only go when he has privacy.
Feel free to come shatter that illusion and stumble across him or have him have overlooked you in his eagerness to get in to soak weary bones and aching flesh. ]
B — [ His commitment to visit the hot springs only when he can have the place to himself falters the moment he starts feeling rather under the weather. Vash finds himself going to the hot springs more and more often in the span of several days. It starts with just a headache, then a sore throat and a runny nose, followed by coughing and what seems to be an inability to breathe properly. He's never had a cold before and it's turning out to be a very unpleasant experience. The warm humid air seems to be only thing to offer some relief and that's the sole reason he goes to the hot springs during the day.
He won't strip and get into the water though. At most he will put his feet in there, but largely he sticks to sitting (and sniffling) somewhere unobtrusive to the side, looking absolutely miserable. ]
WILDCARD
➜ plotting | permissions & info |![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
gusts
( i'm down for any wildcard prompts and i'm happy to match format. feel free to hit me up on the plotting post or over on plurk if you want a personalized starter! )
White out
She catches sight of Vash in the distance and raises a hand up to wave a little frantically.]
Uh hey? A little help here?
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ii
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WILDCARD - first colds, lmk if this works
a-okay! 👍
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II. A CHOICE - lmk if this works
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Hot Springs
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iii-b
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kaworu nagisa | evangelion
ii. a choice
iii. rest my weary bones
iii
We probably will, but that doesn't mean we should let it happen. We might survive here if we try hard enough.
[Being the nihilist he is, he's not sure he believes that...but he won't roll over and die. And he couldn't survive here alone, so that means helping the rest of you.]
...it might be hell, or some afterlife. I don't remember dying, but it'd make sense.
[Bit odd the way this guy says 'humans' but not enough to point out.]
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iii
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whiteout (cw: descriptions of frostbite)
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I
Thomas Jopson | The Terror (AMC)
II. Rest My Weary Bones
[Plotting post here for reference!]
whiteout
You can patch these?
[ They'd be less stylish, maybe but a hell of a lot warmer. ]
Re: whiteout
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I
Re: I
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whiteout
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Not Here because Reasons
Whiteout + slight wildcard! I figured this could be after Little brought Crozier back!!
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II cw: internalized homophobia
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kieren walker | in the flesh
open post for whiteout + closed prompts
permissions | plotting post |
whiteout | ota
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board games;
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whiteout | closed
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Re: whiteout | closed
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Cornelius Hickey | The Terror (AMC)
Hickey shows up in the middle of the second day of the blizzard. Someone very quickly learned that it would be stupid as hell to try and tough this out himself. And fortunately, he's close enough to the community center that while he's exhausted, tired, and a little bit chilled in some areas, he's not passing the hell out.
He instantly becomes a social butterfly, flitting around, bothering people, seeing who's doing what, playing cards, just generally seeing what everybody's doing and also kind of getting in the way. But hey, he just wants to see what's up! He just wants to hang out! Good ol'Cornelius Hickey, yeah he's a little weird, but this is just a normal guy doing normal guy things.
rest my bones - ota
Don't mind Hickey as he just spends multiple hours resting his feet in the hot spring. He's taken his shoes off, rolled his trouser legs up, and has been soaking his feet for the past thirty minutes. This feels fucking phenomenal. So again, don't mind him as he takes up space, just resting and enjoying the moment.
"There's obviously no way I'm moving," Hickey laughs, just leaning back against the ground, totally in the way of people walking past. "Just walk around me, yeah?"
rest my bones - closed to kieren. cw: references to flogging
It's late when Hickey comes back to the hot spring. Truth be told, he does want to wash off all the way. But there are some very valid reasons why he's not going to strip down and enjoy the hot springs during the day.
A fun fact about scurvy is that it re-opens old wounds. And though Hickey may try to come off as someone whole, in one piece, perfectly fine, this is why you eat fresh meat no matter what, the shape of the matter is that his scars did re-open a little. The scars on his ass, obtained from his punishment, as a boy, from Crozier's drunken spitefulness, absolutely re-opened a little bit back on Terror. And he is absolutely not going to show people his flogged, thrashed, ass.
When Kieren arrives at the hot spring, late at night, he gets an eyeful of pasty white man ass, dotted with the scars of a whip. Hickey's stripping, gingerly taking off his trousers and undergarments.
time to get AWKWARD
But the idea of actually bathing is a strong one. He might not feel, but he likes to feel clean. The normality of it. The humanity of it. Years of wandering dressed in the clothes he was buried in and covered in grime and dirt and gore — they make him itch at the thought of them. He hasn't had a hot shower in months. Nothing but sad wipe downs with a bucket of water, or going for a cold shower that doesn't feel like he's getting proper cleaned.
He thinks it's safer to go in the middle of the night. No one'll be around then. And so he hikes up himself in the silence of the dark with a lantern in hand, quietly stepping through the cave, keeping his eyes on his feet so not to trip. He doesn't notice that someone's already there and he looks up only to be met with the marred mess of skin of someone's backside.
"Jesus fucki—" he recoils back, ducking his head and even moving a free hand to cover his eyes. "Shit— I, uh—"
He's a spluttering mess, flustered and awkward as he backs away. He can't look, shame burning in his face. Alright, he's a tiny bit of a prude — and just inwardly groaning at the fact his plan's been absolutely dashed right at the last moment.
"What you doing here?!" He doesn't mean so sound so accusatory, it's spoken out of disbelief more than anything. Why the hell's he here at this time of night?
(... Hello, Captain Obvious.)
BIG AWKWARD for the boys
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rest my bones
Re: rest my bones
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Francis Crozier | The Terror (AMC)
a. The End of Science.
Word travels fast in the small outpost, reaching the man currently living in an igloo on the forest line in what would surely be regarded as record time. He comes to the center of town to take --
Well, he's doing something, but it's not obvious what that is until a curious passerby gets close enough to see the pencil in hand and a notebook resting on the remains of his left wrist.
"Measuring the wind," he tells them gruffly. "Can't you feel the pressure drop?"
What he wouldn't give for a barometer. He'd make one from water but he's fairly sure it'll freeze in these conditions.
b. I was born in this igloo and daggumit I'll die in this igloo
When the winds pick up Crozier fixes his parka at the narrow doorway of his hut ice and settles in for the storm. He's survived blizzards before, surely this storm will be mild in comparison to the ones up in the nothingness of King William Island.
Surely.
It isn't as though he hates the thought of being around people, but it's difficult to pretend he isn't a walking corpse fueled by grief and guilt at this point. Young people trying to organize supplies and keep them together just make him feel uncomfortable.
❄ II. Rest My Weary Bones
cw: old man dingdong
He finds the hot springs along with the others and strips down to just skin, sinking into the warm waters and not caring a bit if others come across him. Long claw marks across his chest and a mangled wrist on full display, he lays his head back against the stones and closes his eyes.
That Victorian sensibility of modesty and humility and shame has been abandoned a long, long time ago. What use does fitting in with that dreadful lot serve now? Captain Crozier is long dead, and Aglooka, the odd white man in furs, is all that remains now.
At least that's what he tells himself.
White Out - The End of Science
But he needs to learn. There's so much that he needs to learn. It feels like being a boy again on the trips with Uncle into the city, that infuriating impotency of looking around himself and seeing at every turn incomprehensible things he so badly needs to already understand. There's that same whetstone sharpening the feeling now as there was then, too, the knowing how obvious it is just in looking at him: his fine oxford shoes so badly suited to this place, the blanket instead of a coat wrapped and tied as well as he can manage around his arms and waist and chest, the wet, icy spots over the blanket from the times the oxfords had slipped over the snow. The tone of the question, too, making it clear this is one more thing Raju should already know — but that tone, at least, says there might be something useful for Raju here, at least until gruffness turns to that impatient urgency that's eating at all of them now.
Why is the question he wants, but how is the question he needs, if he might only get the one before this man decides Raju's wasting his time. "How? What instruments are you measuring with?"
Re: White Out - The End of Science
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ii, time to look at that naked old man
Re: ii cw cannibalism
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White Out — b
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II
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II
Re: II
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Eddie Munson | Stranger Things
Starters to follow!
Whiteout
For the most part, he does’t cause a disturbance. He busies himself with scribbling something on a pad of paper he’s found, digging through the cabinets for interesting books and gives off the illusion he knows what he’s doing when he plinks out a few bars of Great Balls of Fire on the piano. He plays his guitar, but if you recall his little Aurora concert, this is’t quite like that. The electricity is dead again, leaving him with an unamplified guitar, and he’s polite enough to stop playing when people are preparing to sleep. This isn’t his space, and he’s willing to respect that. He will take requests, though, assuming it’s a song he knows.
After a few days, with the snow piling high outside, he hops up onto a table, cups his hands over his mouth, and shouts to the rest of the Hall. ]
Hey!
[ Sure, he could have used the stage, but he’s more likely to get attention this way, right? ]
I’m bored, you’re bored, and I know not even a quarter of you have played Dungeons and Dragons before. What better way to blow off a bit of steam than with fake swords and sorcery? So get your asses over here, and I’ll help you fill out character sheets.
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Post-storm
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Rest my Weary Bones
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la'an noonien-singh | star trek: strange new worlds
— for fidior.
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Checking up on her
i've been waiting FOUR HOURS to post this tag
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dean winchester | supernatural
a choice;
rest them weary bones;
(( ooc; ploting comment here! feel free to pm/comment if you want something specific or have any other ideas! totally up or wildcards! ))
a choice;
[ Something Dean doesn't need? Someone to take a seat near him and tell him the obvious. ] It's really cold out here. [ But that's what Jack offers. ]
Seen anything?
keep the tdm?
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rest them weary bones;
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rest them weay bones;
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rest them weary bones;
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Holland March | The Nice Guys
i. A choice;
Hey.
[ It's almost sunset now, the warm glow of reds and oranges sinking softly into the glistening white snow. Beautiful in every way, a true masterpiece of a portrait painted by Mother Nature herself. The treeline slowly melting onto a field of snow is equally breathtaking, a wondrous and marvelous sight. And that voice once more, calling from above. ]
Hey!
[ It's an urgent whisper. Holland March is fairly high up in one of the trees, bundled up and with his rose-tinted aviators on his face, clinging to its thick trunk with effort that suggests he's been there for a while. It's not his fault, except for the part where it absolutely is. ]
Give me a hand, would you? I saw something, really cool deer, hand to God, just-- [ A jerk of his head. He absolutely has no idea how to get down himself. The last time he did this he was with Ken and Ken has like 8 abs. ] C'mon.
ii. Rest my Weary Bones;
[ It's not a secret March doesn't like Milton. He doesn't think there's anyone who loves Milton, really, but March is just egotistical enough that he thinks his opinion matters more than anyone else's. The crazy part is that there's one place in this little hellscape that isn't bad at all--it's actually really, really nice.
March has discovered the hot springs. Venturing out has proven very fruitful for once, and the blond hadn't even hesitated the moment he realized what he's stumbled upon in his attempt to poke around.
There's a pile of clothes set away from the springs itself, March having no qualms being completely naked and absorbing the heat. The only thing he has on him is a necklace with a ring on it, gold pinkie ring and gold watch and gun all with his clothes. He's also got his lighter, because he has one singular smoke left.
Since it's his last cigarette, the moment he puts it between his lips he vows to himself and God and whoever's listening that he's going to enjoy it and this no matter what. He may as well do it in his own personal (natural) hot tub. This is it. This is bliss. And if anyone joins him, it's going to be met with a grin and a big ol' wave: March is extremely happy. He's also been in the water for a while, face a little red. ]
Heeey. Come on in, just watch the splashing until this is done.
no subject
He turns for a moment, a real short one, in March's direction but he's quick to avert his gaze. Nope, he's not going to look at anyone lacking proper clothing around here, there is a line he just can't bring himself to cross. Seeing skin due to medical emergencies? That could be acceptable. Just seeing random strangers bathe? He- can't handle that, thank you very much.]
I am afraid I have to pass, at least as long as there are people around the place. But if you need a towel or anything, please do let me know, I brought some up from the village.
[Someone hahs been busy collecting stuff in case it's needed, actually. And this is maybe the first time he sees an actual use for towels beside ripping them and using the rags to create small and short living torches.]
This place is fantastic, isn't it? THere is so much we could do around here! I'm certain everyone will be happy to have a corner where to warm themselves up without relying only on a fire. Not to mention- oh, the possibilitiies a source of goeothermal energy offers, am I right?
[He feels hyper and talkative, truly. Sorry, March, you got the energetic young adult around. And he hasn't been able to have much conversation in days.]
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Closed to Wynonna; tw alcoholism throughout this whole thread lbr
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Rest My Weary Bones
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a choice;
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a choice
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Max Mayfield | Stranger Things
White Out | OTA
She does pick areas, like the stage, the sleeping area, that have spans of space for her to zoom through, but that doesn't prevent all accidents, or people from walking in the way. It's only natural others would get fed up with that, and Max isn't any happier about it.
Eventually, though, she wanders her way through the Community Hall until she finds a set of stairs, heading down. She stops, props her skateboard up and starts to smile.
The nearest person gets asked, "You know where those go?" and a grin. If it's some place she can skateboard without interruption, well, she is more than happy to find out. It's still, also, something to do while trapped inside.
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Rest My Weary Bones | OTA
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sorry this is late!
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A Choice; Closed to Kieren
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A Choice, closed to Rei
millions knives | trigun maximum
[when he hears the announcement about the upcoming storm with only three days to prepare, naturally he feels some level of concern. intensive weather patterns were nothing he wasn't familiar with, having experienced a fair share of sandstorms so severe that rolling clouds of sand and wind blotted out the skies for days. newly formed dunes to swallow down the storm's victims, bodies worn down to bone and dust by sands that knives would be picking out from between his teeth and scalp for days to come after the clouds had parted again. now, here he was at the opposite end of such fiercely hostile weather preparing as much as he could, not for himself but for the two sheltered with him in the church.
over the next three days, knives can be found travelling between the outskirts of the woods checking on traps set for rabbit and squirrel, the basin with his fishing gear, and the church. in between these areas, he makes a few stops by the community hall to take advantage of the larger kitchen to skin the animals he brings back. his work with the skinning blade is exceptional for someone with little experience in such things, the blade gliding over bloody fat and sinew as he parts away the outer fur and skin. he takes time to clean each animal and fish over the sink basins, blood and fish scales diluted with the thin trickle of water from the faucet curving into a spiral down the drain.
later, when he finishes cleaning up after himself in the kitchen, for whatever reason he finds himself seated at the piano. his fingers ghost over the piano keys, testing a few before finally starting to play.]
[ b - a choice ]
[knives isn't interested in the stag when rumors of it start to spread around town. when he heads out to the basin with his fishing equipment stowed away in the canvas bag slung over his shoulder, it's with the intention of replenishing the food stores back at the church. they had survived, somehow, even with vash sneaking out to try and brave the storm in search of anyone else caught outside. knives had been furious, to be extremely mild about it.
he's armed with a sheathed sickle hanging off his belt by his side and a small pickaxe he uses to chip away at the ice until he hits icy water. the stag, whenever it appears, either before he is joined by company or after, does capture his attention. his fingers curl tight around the handle of his axe as he watches it watches in return.]
[ c - hot springs ]
[the discovery of the hot springs is a blessed surprise and one knives fully intends on utilizing to fight against the constant chill he's learned to... deal with.
when it comes to his own body, knives isn't modest. there's little hesitation in stripping down to nothing, his body pale and devoid of the immense amount of scars his twin, vash, has covering his own body. if there are others around, he pays them no mind as he slides into the water. the heat and steam are nice little comforts, muscles sore from long treks through the snow and constant activity.
there's a very good chance he will start dozing while soaking, face flushed hot as a fever as he begins to nod off. is it okay to pass out in a hot spring?]
[ d - wildcard! ]
[got an idea or want something different? let's do it! my plotting comment is here and i can be reached via discord @ experiments for further plotting!]
Whiteout
So he finds a seat and listens. He won't say anything at least until the song is over.]
whiteout
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b
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hot springs
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kate marsh | life is strange
plotting post |
— whiteout | ota
cw: link to nightmares prompt does have a whole lot of seperate cws
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Nightmares
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mild religious cws that will probably intensify
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Kitchen
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Nightmares
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nightmares
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vasiliy yegorovich ardankin | original — historical/(secret) revenant
Let the yoke fall from our shoulders (don't carry it all, don't carry it all)
preparations — cw: smoking
[ As he had upon his arrival, Vasiliy is quick to busy himself with helping the collective prepare. It's a good outlet, and honestly, he feels more useful, closer to others here in the wilds than he ever did in America. It enriches a man's soul, laboring for the greater good; even when his arms begin to burn from all of the wood he's chopped and carried, one would be hard-pressed to get a single complaint from his direction.
He's spent a couple of years now training his body to hold up to the physical demands of his profession and has the muscle tone—and stamina—to show for it, but Vasiliy recognizes that most of the people here probably have not. When he sees someone flagging with the onset of fatigue or perhaps just the gradual effect of the cold, he stops what he's doing and approaches, snow crunching under his boots as he pulls a half-collapsed pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. ]
You should rest. It will be no good to anyone if you get tired too soon. Do you smoke?
The neighbor's blessed burden within reason / Becomes a burden borne of all and one
the storm.
[ Though he never lived anywhere remotely as far from civilization as this, Vasiliy is still reasonably confident in his ability to weather the storm at home. There is no question, however, as to where he'll go—he brings a collection of blankets, a pillow, a couple of changes of clothes, and his EMS kit bag to the community center, setting up in a corner where he can sleep with his back to the wall.
He drags over a white plastic card table and two chairs, one for himself and one for any patients who might need attention, and sets down some glass jugs of preemptively sterilized saline solution when it finishes boiling on the wood stove. Clean towels and drinking water, differentiated from the saline with DW scrawled in inexperienced hand with sharpie, join the collection, as does a gas lamp for better lighting.
For the duration of the storm he can be found there, occasionally reading or sleeping upright in his chair, arms folded across his chest. The reflective star of life on his jacket and the bag at his feet make it clear that he's medical personnel, at least to those exposed to the symbol before. If a character seems injured or unwell—or in a state of panic over the storm—it is safe to assume that he'll approach when it comes to his attention, asking if they're alright with a calm that implies control over the current situation. ]
We are all our hands in holders
Wildcard! Shoot me a DM at #redmaresociety on discord or PP
preparations
Mate, overworking isn't the problem. It's the shit construction of the clothes, [ he points out, with a small little chuckle. ] That being said, I'll still take a cigarette if you're offering.
[ What can he say, man likes to smoke. ]
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the storm!
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Rorschach | Watchmen
Rorschach had debated whether or not to wait out the storm on his own up until the very last minute. In the end, he decided having a group of people around might have been better in terms of the odds of survival then going it alone. Plus he wasn't going to do much good trying to protect anyone if he was snowed in. So he'd hauled some supplies over to the Community Hall, including a number of books he'd already been collecting for anyone to read while the storm raged outside.
As usual, Rorschach had a reversed sleeping schedule than most of the other Interlopers, sleeping during the day and waking up around four or five before staying up during the night. Surprisingly, he slept very soundly during the day despite the noise level of the others. He'd grown up in New York City and had long since become accustomed to the fact that the hum of the city in the background never truly went away. The white noise helped him sleep. Here in Milton, it had been difficult to get rest during the day with things relatively so quiet. In the Community Hall, with the sound of people all around again, he found it easier to sleep in the normal way he was used to. And yes, he still slept with his face on at all times.
One could find him up in the early evening, a bit withdrawn from the rest of the Interlopers and always off to the side. He spent most of his time either writing in his journal or reading. Socialization had never been his strong suit and he had a hard time even just talking with others. Still, he'd at least attempt to engage in conversation if anyone decided to approach him.
B. A Choice
When Rorschach heard about the white stag, it was curiosity more than anything else which made him want to seek out the beast. In literature, white animals always carried a particular significance. While at home it would have just been something out of a fairy tale, the weird shit he'd experienced thus far in Milton made Rorschach wonder if that would hold true here. He'd never been on a hunting trip in his life, and wouldn't know the first thing about shooting a deer to kill it for food. So he was going along with whatever the other person he'd teamed up with decided to do.
(And by "teamed up", he more than likely had simply declared he was going to help anyone who was hunting the stag whether they wanted it or not. Getting rid of him after that point would be close to impossible.)
"Know what you're doing?" He'd ask as they started out, hoping the answer was yes, otherwise it was going to be the blind leading the blind around here.
C. Rest My Weary Bones
Hygiene had never been all that high on Rorschach's list of priorities even when he had access to hot water every day back home. He preferred just continuously layering himself in cologne every day as if putting more on top of the first layer he'd done the previous day would work the same way bathing would. To say he smelled was an understatement at this point. He stunk to high heaven for anyone who got within about eight to ten feet of him.
After acquiring some soap from another Interloper (the rest of them could thank Louis for "gifting" the vigilante some), he decided to go back when he thought he'd have the best chance of being alone so he could bathe in private. Hence it being the middle of the night, with the only light being given off by a lantern he'd brought with him. Off came the many layers of clothing, including gloves, socks, and hat. Finally, with a small bit of hesitation, he took his face off and set it with the rest.
He got into the hot springs with a groan somewhere between pleasure and pain. He'd get around to the actual part of cleaning himself off in a bit. Right now, he just wanted to relax.
D. Wildcard
[Want something different? Hit me up at
A
Rorschach, though, was quiet. And not a people person either. So it seemed likely that it'd be peaceful near the other man. He sits down, a few arms lengths away from the other man. He nods if acknowledged, but doesn't say anything.
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B
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