nature offers a violence

[singmod]

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

WHITEOUT

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.

A CHOICE

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.

REST MY WEARY BONES

1. The hot springs will now be a permanent fixture in the Milton Area, enjoy!

PLOTTING POST

Comments

( Kate Marsh )

[fidior]

[ The journey to fetch Crozier had been successful — and a great part of Edward had feared that it would not be, that the man would refuse to come with him, or that the trek back would be... deadly. But they'd both made it across that slow trudge back to the Community Center, Little grasping onto his captain's arm and then his one remaining hand, to lead him back through the endless white.

....Not truly endless, however. Not this time. This time, there was an end to it: buildings, people, safety. They'd both stumbled into the doors, covered in frost, and with swapped clothing; Crozier had insisted his first lieutenant wear his furs, taking Little's greatcoat and cap in return. He's still wearing the strange clothing now, though he feels someone pull it off of him, no doubt to hang the fur up to be dried near the fire. He lets this happen, unable to resist a thing, dazed and dizzy and vision still strange; the harsh swirl of white had been blinding for a time.

The seal fur of Silence's people had provided more protection than the wool he's used to, the material thick and soft and warm, insulated. Once the hood and fur are pulled off of him, Edward's shivering uncontrollably, even as someone places a blanket around his shoulders and he's shuffled further inside the warmth of the Community Center. The icy chill of it gets inside, into one's bones, makes house there. He's cold from the inside out, and every breath hurts, lungs aching from the frigid, frosty air they'd been forced to inhale, leaning forwards as a hoarse cough racks his frame. It's as he's looking up again, gasping softly for breath, that he sees the familiar face right there, looking stricken with worry— ]

Miss Marsh?

she's just GETTING RIGHT TO IT!!!

[castitas]

[ The sound of doors opening, the sudden draft — it's enough to draw attention before any claps eyes on the two brought in from the storm. She'd sat on her cot, eyes squeezed tightly shut — mouth silently forming words over clasped hands: ...The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever—

And then— head snapping up, quickly getting to her feet to peer around. There's plenty of commotion about it, people rising to see to the two brought in from the cold and quickly moving into action — there's a sense of hushed urgency about it all. Of course she'd known Lieutenant Little had gone out. She hadn't wanted him to go out, or at the very least had wanted to go out with him — it being far too dangerous to venture out into the storm alone. But she'd stayed put, and he'd gone.

(So she'd prayed. What else could she do?)

She ducks around the small crowd, gently nudging fellow Interlopers to allow her through as he doubles over to cough. Francis Crozier has already been found, currently being seen to — she recognises Mr Jopson — but there's a moment of frozen horror, worried for the Lieutenant until he looks up and it's enough to spring her into action. ]

Lieutenant Little— [ She starts forwards, towards him, arms raising as she moves to his side, taking his arm and nudging him to move. Even with the urgency, it's gentle encouragement. ] Here, let's get you sat down— just this way.

[ Close to the fire, but not too close. Given the eternal cold, it's been a good idea to at least read into how to deal with it when people are out in it — frostnip, frostbite, hypothermia... what to do about it, how to warm others up. She coaxes him to sit, someone passes her another blanket and she moves to wrap it on top of the one already around his shoulders — taking time to tuck to it around him. ]

We gotta get you warmed up, okay? [ She's totally got this! Another Interloper mentions there's already water on the boil and she nods, uttering a soft thank you. ] Here, let me take these off—

[ His gloves, she means. She reaches for his hands, the wool feels soaked from the time outdoors, incredibly gentle and she attempts to remove them. ]

We can get hot water bottles, some warm water to soak your hands and feet in, something warm to drink, okay? [ Is it assurance for him? Or for her? Perhaps both. ] You'll be okay.

time to nanny the nanny!!!

[fidior]

[ It isn't surprising to see Kate there and ready to greet him; she'd been deeply worried, fretful, even wanting to go with him — and Edward lets the girl lead him as she does, offering no resistance at all to being coaxed to sit close to the fire. It's hard to truly feel any warmth, at first; the cold has become like his top layer of skin, sticking to everything. The hood from the seal fur had kept his hair mostly dry, mercifully — and a much better job than his officer's cap ever could have — but the hair on his face is frosted and cold, and he's shuddering in little spasms as he looks wide-eyed to the fire for a moment before returning his gaze to Kate as she reaches for his hands.

It's slow work, the wool almost sticky in its wet state, the fabric clinging to his skin uncomfortably. He tries to keep his hands still, but they're shaking, and a few of his fingers curl inwards a bit oddly, stiff.

But he's nodding as best as he can at her words, and perhaps this too is to assure both of them. Edward's frightened, up under everything. He's seen men fall apart from exposure, parts of them turning black, having to be cut off. And he knows his own health is hardly in the best of sorts; he's been recovering well enough over time, but the poison in his body keeps him weak, fatigued. Perhaps he could collapse if exposed to too much; he's seen this happen to men, too. Alive one moment and then down the next.

The last time he trudged through a blizzard, Frederick Hornby fell beside him, and never got back up. ]

Thank you, [ he manages to say inbetween the trembling of his own throat, drawing in quick, sharp breaths of air. He doesn't want to alarm her, but his own alarm makes his heart beat faster, nervous. He knows some things after having seen so many men suffer from it, remembers the stages of it. White skin was dangerous. Black skin could come next. ] Are my f-fingers more white th-than red?

[castitas]

[ She's as careful as she can be, trying not to rush removing the gloves. The cold hurts, and skin is so fragile — she reminds herself. Care should be taken, the book had told her. But she manages it, one at a time, then takes several long moments to give his trembling hands a look over in the fire's light, turning them over.

Her brow furrows in worry — it looks so painful, and even with the lightest of touch through the examination, she can feel the chill of his skin in contrast to her own hands. ]

No. [ Kate answers with a quick shake of her head. ] More red, a little white? At the fingertips, but only a really little bit, I promise. This is first degree. This is really great. We can totally fix this.

[ There's been old photographs, in the pictures. Detailed descriptions, the freezing of tiny blood vessels, skin swelling and blistering — skin blackening to ash and decaying. They'd been... hard to look at. Still careful, as she waits for water, she holds his hands with hers — an attempt to offer them a little heat whilst they wait.

He's breathing quickly, shallow, and it's worrying. Kate hesitates for a moment before she lets go of one of his hands to gently press it against his chest. Stop, she means to say in the gesture. Slow down. ]

Take a deep breath for me, okay? Like this. [ She demonstrates for him, inhaling with her nose slowly and then hold it for a few seconds before exhaling through her mouth. ] Just keep doing that, it won't be long for the water.

cw: panic attack associations

[fidior]

[ Of course he's seen Kate in action before — offering assistance in a great variety of ways, whether it's helping with food and dinner preparations, her ongoing work with the rosehips, frequently assisting Methuselah with the newcomers.... so it's no surprise that she's jumping in to help now, but it still manages to surprise him for the simple fact he's not used to such things. To being on this end of it, perhaps.

It also surprises him a bit by how knowledgeable she is to the matter. 'this is first degree' But it's the assurance that grasps hold of him, makes his heart skip a beat. 'this is really great; we can fix this'

In his fear, having someone say something so assured helps, feels like a lifeline, but his anxiety is a difficult beast to overcome. For as much as Edward tries to keep himself composed and grounded, it's far too easy for him to feel overwhelmed, and his breathing is shallow, pained, almost frantic —

—Kate's pressing a hand to his chest, and directs him to a deep breath. Kate sees it, his fear, panic. (Of course she does; she knows what it's like.) The man's eyes widen as he looks up at her, and ordinarily the closeness of the gesture may fluster him, but right now it's all he has to hold onto. He's staring at her with all of his focus, watching her take that demonstrative breath, slow, in and out. Calm, intentional.

He's never been guided to breathe like that. It seems unnatural, strange; the initial kneejerk thought within the man is that he isn't sure he can do it. His heart beneath her palm throbs painfully, erratic and fast pulses, a frightened animal quivering. But Edward closes his eyes, focuses on the words. A command of sorts; he can follow this. And so he imitates her breathing technique, and it's a little awkward at first, unpracticed. Breathe into his nose, hold it, exhale though his mouth. But as he does it... he finds that he can keep doing it. That it becomes easier, and that it seems to gradually calm the frantic thrum of his heart.

Slowly, slowly, eyes still closed. Blocking out everything except for that, and the small hand placed to his heart. After a few moments, he's giving a soft exhale, eyes peeling opened again to look up at Kate. He looks shaken, but not like he'll lose himself to it, just— stunned. ]

Thank you. I'm— I apologise, I— [ He gives his head a soft shake, struggling with the words. ] —I suppose I'm finding it difficult to... to handle this well.

[castitas]

[ Kate knows she's not good at hunting or trapping. She doesn't know how to fish. She doesn't know how to stitch a wound. She doesn't know how to fire a gun. She can barely chop wood. But this? This she can do. She can learn about frostbite, she can learn what she's supposed to do to help with it to an extent (before she will, undoubtedly need to defer to someone with far more medical knowledge than her). She knows how to organise feeding people, she knows how to help in some small way.

It keeps her busy. Keeps mind occupied. It helps her feel useful in this place.

She keeps breathing with him a few times until he finds his footing, the odd quick beats of his heart under her hand slowly starting to ease. She keeps it there, as if willing it to quieten. And it does, Kate smiling a little — sad, a little worried still, but relieved. ]

You're welcome. [ Her voice is soft, and she shakes her own hair in reply. ] And... you've got nothing to be sorry for. You're doing great, okay?

[ One of their fellow Interlopers draws near, the first tub of warm water in his arms: 'Hey, Kate. Got this one for you. Katie's bringing another for his hands.' Kate straightens, pulling her hand from his chest and letting go of his hand. She moves to check the water with her fingers first before she directs the man to set it down before them with a soft thank you. ]

Can you give me a hand with his boots? [ The Interloper nods and they both move to crouch down. Kate looks up briefly. ] We'll be as quick and careful as possible, okay?

[ There's a silent diligence to it as they work on removing boots and socks, rolling up trouser legs a little, out of the way — trying to be as gentle as possible whilst moving as quickly as they can. Kate does her best to be mindful, given the slight undressing in such a public place — there's not... much uh, dignity in all of this. Which sucks. But... they gotta get him warmed up. ]

You're looking okay. [ Much of the same, she thinks. Better even. Mostly red. His feet have been far more protected than his hands. Kate thanks the man and he stands with a nod. The woman, Katie, has appeared with a large washing-up tub for his hands. Kate asks her to set it down for a moment as Kate pushes the tub for his feet closer and directs the Lieutenant to set his feet in it. ]

I know you probably already know this, but warming up might hurt. You've gotta to tell me if it does. [ She eyes him for a moment: Please tell her if it hurts. ] I can get ibuprofen to help for it.

[ The wonders of modern medicine. ]

cw: themes of dissociation

[fidior]

[ The assurance helps — 'You're doing great, okay?' — Edward's nodding quickly, watching her, trying to keep himself focused on what's happening. He knows he has a tendency to.... lose himself sometimes, to almost perceive what's happening through a thick haze, a distance. A sort of... detachment from himself, as though things are happening to someone else. It's happened to him more than once over these past years, and even now he can feel it there like some ghost that hovers at the corners of his vision, slipping into his skin, making him feel numbed to what's going on.

'You're doing great'

He sits there, letting all of it happen, and a flicker of distress breaks through the numb when his boots are removed. It's a vulnerability, to expose any part of himself, and a discomfort — socially, personally, in many ways. He likes to keep himself covered.... But he knows it's a necessity and wills himself through it, jaw stiffening a bit, muscles tense as his trouser legs are even rolled up a bit. Really, this is.... so far out of his comfort zone, and breaks so many of the carefully-constructed norms of his time...... He's flushing, ears and cheeks dusted with a fresh pink that has nothing to do with the cold. He's tried to maintain himself as well as possible, keeping his nails trimmed, keeping himself clean. But the act of exposing himself at all is... a lot.

Still, it's good news to hear that things look all right, and he's gently places both of his bare feet into the tub, barely suppressing a soft sound as the initial warmth stings a bit. Not too sharply, it's not so painful that it's uncomfortable, and his skin will adjust soon enough. The man takes a moment to gather himself a little, although still flushed as he looks up to Kate. Ibuprofen, it must be a sort of medicine. ]

I'm all right. It doesn't hurt too much. This is— this is nice, it— it's helping, thank you.

[ Even through his obvious discomfort and embarrassment, he does want to show his gratitude, giving a serious nod. ]

I'm sorry for worrying you, Miss Marsh. And causing all of this... [ Being fussed over is very new for him, and he's shy to it. It causes him to grasp for what he knows, which is to report the facts.... ]

But Captain Crozier has been successfully recovered. He was out all on his own, in an ice house. I... I fear he may not have made it through the storm, all on his own.

[castitas]

You don't need to thank me— [ She tells him gently, shaking her head a little. ] I'm happy to help.

[ Feet sorted, Kate moves onto starting to get his hands re-warmed. There's a bit of finagling, taking a moment to roll his sleeves back a little over his wrists to avoid them getting wet as another Interloper fetches more warm water to submerse his hands into. Someone fetches a few boxes to work as a makeshift table to set the bowl onto, before Kate gently directs his hands into it. ]

Then I've gotta insist on rosehip tea to help with the inflammation, at least. [ There's little sternness in her, but there's a gentle insistence — the tiniest of smile at her lips with that: she's barely half-bark and no bite. Not to mention he'll need something to warm him, anyways. Warming up hands and feet is one thing, but warming from the core is important too — according to what she's been reading.

She falls quiet as she listens. He's sorry for worrying her, for kicking up all this fuss. Kate's mouth opens to argue, but she promptly shuts it again — frowning a little. She hadn't wanted him to go, certainly not alone. But she isn't going to begrudge the fact he did go and now they have to get him warmed up again. ]

What you did was so dangerous— [ She doesn't mean to sound like she's chastising him. She has no business chastising a grown man, but the thought of people going out into the storm like that has her stomach twisting in knots. He'd gone out, alone. Anything could have happened to him. Kate has to stop herself, taking a breath. ] But it was... also totally brave, too.

[ She has to give him that, offering him a smile. He went out when no one else would, to get his Captain back — to bring him somewhere safe. That counts as bravery in her eyes, and super admirable. ]

And... I think you made the right call in bringing Mr Crozier back. [ If it counts for anything. ] If Mr Methuselah is here with us, then I think it says a lot about what kind of storm this is.

[ There's a beat. ]

Although... maybe no more rescues for today, I think you've done more than enough.