singillatim | nature offers a violence

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

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

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"Well, you're in luck, 'cause I've hunted both."

That might explain why Bigby doesn't really seem to be judging the other here over his words. Hard to do so when he's the same - and when he definitely means 'hunting men' in this case in the detective sort of sense, rather than what he used to do back when he was a wolf full time. He assumes it's what Rorschach must mean too, because surely no actual serial killer would confess this casually otherwise.

Bigby doesn't even look at the other as he continues to walk, brushing the comment off that easily.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the person most suited in the entire town to hunt this thing down." And it's not false confidence. Bigby doesn't do false confidence, really. It's just that he knows this is the one thing he's very, very good at, even if there's other stuff in town he's completely failing at. "Even if they made it harder on me."

He doesn't quite have his usual sense of smell, after all. Otherwise he would have gone for that stag in a beeline.

Someday, Rorschach would have to tell Bigby just what he'd meant by the fact he hunted men, after he was certain the other wouldn't immediately be horrified upon learning how many people he'd killed. In some ways, he was even odder than the wolf in the way that he went about fulfilling his self-appointed duties in watching over the denizens of New York. But there would all be time for that later.

Right now they had an animal to hunt.

Rorschach nodded approvingly at what Bigby said, taking the other man at his word. "Good. Then I'm with the right person." If he was going to team up with someone, it might as well have been the best.

The man huffs between steps.

"I dunno about that part."

Sure, Bigby likes to think he is the right person when it comes to who's the best hunter in town. In that sense, Rorschach is right. But there are some details about this very specific hunt that complicate that, right?

"It depends on what you were planning on doing once you'd find that stag." There's an implication in those words. Unsaid goes the fact that Bigby - obviously - won't let Rorschach be the one to pick when Bigby is the one putting his own skills to use.

"Not sure yet," he said with a shrug.

From what he'd heard from other people, this may not have been an ordinary animal. This town was strange and didn't always seem to follow the rules of reality. After dealing with the wolves and that strange creepy dog, he was fully prepared for this to be some sort of trap to lure them in rather than anything resembling being pleasant.

"Well, I'm likely going to kill it."

Maybe it's not the best idea to show your hand so easily, especially when Rorschach's own unsure answer might have been on purpose, to perhaps hide his real intentions - but Bigby has always been like this. Blunt. Direct. He doesn't know any other way to be.

At least it does make things very clear in this particular situation.

"That's the point of hunting something, after all." And of course a hunt comes very, very instinctively to Bigby. Even if he's changed his ways in general, he can't change this.

"Normally would agree." A great big stag would provide plenty of meat. Yet Rorschach had his reasons for being adverse to killing the large beast.

"But there's something..." He looked for the right word in his mind and couldn't find one though he found one close enough. "...something strange about the animals here." The wolves. That weird dog. (Where had that thing even gone?) Now another animal had appeared that seemed just a bit off. Rorschach wasn't sure what all of this meant but he was certain it was all connected somehow. Was this deer meant to be killed?

The man huffs.

"Like the wolves? They were under the influence of something. I saw 'em." And with Bigby's knowledge about wolves - you know, on a.. very, very personal level.. - he easily figured that is what had to be wrong with them. Something influencing them into being that aggressive, into attacking the town. And sure, he saw the dog too, but that seemed a different thing entirely.

So this being a third different thing? Entirely possible.

"No one told us to hunt them. But we were told to hunt this stag. So that's what I'm doing."

Especially when it's something that comes so natural to the wolf within him.

(When there's a part of him that wants to let loose, buried down so deep inside of him at this point, yet it sometimes still tugs at him all the way from down there.)

"Influence of what is the real question." He doubted it was anything found in nature. If it had been a plant or something in the water, it wouldn't have effected them all so uniformly. And even then, for the ones it had effected, eventually that would have worn off. They wouldn't have been so persistent in their one course of action in that case. Was there something else at play here in the town? Rorschach wasn't sure. He'd need more evidence before he started forming any theories.

Rorschach gave Bigby a long look. "Don't you read enough books? Half the time someone is told 'go hunt a mysterious white animal', the last thing they're supposed to do is kill it." Then he shrugged. "But can't be sure. Not like there was many deer in New York to hunt to compare with."

A thought occurs to Bigby. At first it's nothing more than that - just a thought, just a sarcastic quip that won't actually spill across his lips, something he's held back enough times by now.

.. but then, while walking, he decides.. you know what, screw this. He's just going to say it, rather than bothering to hold back. Maybe it's the thrill of the hunt, or maybe he's just kind of tired of skirting around this.

"No need to lecture me about books. I am a frequent topic in those, you know."

For the record!!!

Stupid mundies and their stupid ideas about how authors just get those stories from nowhere..

Rorschach absorbed those words, trying to figure out what they meant, but he couldn't really parse out what Bigby was telling him. It sounded almost like a riddle.

"Huh?" That was it, the only word (although it really counted as more of a sound) that he made. Otherwise, the vigilante said nothing, his head tilting a little to the right in confusion. He had no idea what Bigby was getting at or what he was referring to.

Yeah, wouldn't you like to know, Rorschach.

For a moment it seems like Bigby might actually explain. He turns to the other man, opens his mouth, but--

That's the exact moment he hears something. His hearing may not be as great anymore as it was back home with what this place did to him, but Bigby still recognizes certain sounds instantly. Like the snap of a twig.

He turns his head to look, and he can see it in the distance, just standing there. He doesn't say a word, worried that it might startle the creature and make it run away all over again. Instead he just moves a hand to nudge Rorschach, before gesturing with his head in the direction of the creature standing there in the distance.

The sharp snap of the twig was something Rorschach failed to pick up on but he couldn't help to see what Bigby was trying to tell him. He shifted his position standing there until he could see the white stag.

Rorschach felt his skin prickle up in a way that had nothing to do with the cold when he looked at the deer. It was an animal but there was not much that made it look like it was at all a creature of Earth. There was more ghost about it than a physical being standing before it. Could they even kill a creature that was like that? Did Rorschach even want to anymore?

He didn't make a move toward the stag. They looked like he had noticed the pair and yet they weren't running away. How curious.

At least they're sharing that impression. It's utterly unsurprising to Bigby, who indeed expected the stag to be a little bit more than just a regular one the moment he heard the stories. He knows what legends work like, after all. He's one of them himself. If stories are spread that far, they're never about ordinary creatures. They're about something a little bit more.

But the moment Bigby also realises the stag isn't moving, despite clearly noticing the two of them, he just moves towards it. Not even in any particular way - just walking the way he always would. No need to get all shy in the company of something that's perhaps a little bit more like himself.

He takes two steps, then glances back at Rorschach, cocking an eyebrow.

"You comin' too?"

Or are you just going to stay there, being the obvious implication.

Rorschach had been rooted to the spot when he'd first seen the stag. Aside from the other strange animals they'd encountered, who had made him feel like they were straight out of a horror movie, he hadn't seen anything else alive in the town aside from rabbits and a few birds.

This creature felt like something else entirely. Maybe it was just because it wasn't a canine and therefore didn't bring out his natural predjudices but Rorschach felt like it wasn't nearly as sinister as the black dog or the wolves had been.

"Of course," he growled out after Bigby asked him. He immediately started to move forward. He expected the stag would take off at any point as the two men drew near to him but apparently not.

Indeed. Even though they approach, the creature just stands there. Even when Bigby makes a clear move to draw the weapon he's been carrying with him - an axe, which isn't exactly his favourite choice, but it was the most weapon-like thing he could find the easiest before quickly moving out on this hunt, and he hasn't even been able to do something as basic as bring out his claws ever since finding himself here - the stag doesn't move in the face of the clear danger.

It just stands there, even as the two men are practically standing in front of it.

Rorschach may not even notice, considering the stag's presence is so overwhelming, but something shifts a little in Bigby's eyes. Like there's a faint golden glow about them, but it's faint enough to blame it on a trick of the light.

"You're not gonna run away?"

...

There's no answer from the stag to Bigby. It just stares at the two of them.

So rather than attempting to ask the stag something again, Bigby instead looks over at Rorschach. "So are you going to take care of this or should I?"

Bigby's idea of 'taking care of this' is.. probably pretty clear, given the weapon that's still in his hand..

He wondered why the creature didn't move, especially when Bigby pulled out a weapon. It couldn't have been so foolish as to not realize what the axe was for. Animals could read intent and it had to know that Bigby meant it harm.

Such a quiet, beautiful presence was something Rorschach hadn't experienced before, never having been this deep into nature since he was born and bred in the city. The stag had a lot of dignity and grace about it. Suddenly, the decision he'd been mulling over the entire time cemented in his mind.

Rorschach shook his head. "No." That was all he said but what he meant beneath the monosyllabic answer was that he didn't think killing the deer was right any longer. The beautiful being deserved better than to be butchered for food.

"'No' is not an answer to that question," Bigby says, his tone a little slow and with the verbal equivalent of an eyeroll in it - like he's explaining something really simple to a toddler, rather than speaking to a grownass man.

It's mostly because he gets what Rorschach is saying with that no, really. Despite the words coming out of Bigby's mouth. Maybe the message here is more something along the lines of use your words, dude.

"You think we seriously dragged our asses all the way out here, only to go back now?"

He doesn't even care that they're saying all of this right in front of the stag~~'s salad~~. The animal clearly isn't running away, so who cares about having this conversation so openly. Bigby isn't ashamed.

Rorschach looked at Bigby with an irritated air. He spoke as if someone was charging him a dollar for every word spoken, adding on a little to what he'd already said. "No. It's wrong to kill it." The emphasis on the word could be heard. But that was all Bigby got, Rorschach lapsing back into silence rather than trying to explain his reasoning behind the decision.

Rorschach had wondered if he would have it in him to kill such a creature once they'd found it. Had it been an ordinary deer, maybe he would have. But this didn't seem like an ordinary animal and suddenly killing it wasn't what Rorschach wanted to do any longer. And once Rorschach had made up his mind, it was near-impossible to get him to change it again.

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nature offers a violence

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