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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's kind of like that in Arcadia Bay...? Well, there's one particular family. They kinda just... own the town. [ It's not spoken, but there's something in her tone to suggest she's not the biggest fan of the Prescott family. Something in her jaw that tightens a little and she takes a moment to shake it off. ] Where are you from, anyway?

[ She doesn't think she'd asked.

And she'd certainly realised someone had stormed out, mostly due to noting that Lieutenant Little had also gone out after someone. She'd been worried about him, especially when he's already gone out into the storm to rescue Mr Crozier and bring him to the Community Hall. ]

People are hard to be around sometimes. Everyone's different, and you're not always going to get on with everyone. [ She offers with a small smile, shrugging a little. There's something else that she's far more interesting here: ]

You have a little sister? [ Something brightens in her face. ] I have two, both younger than me. I.. I miss them a whole lot, but I don't think I'd ever want them to end up here with me.

[ Kate's expression goes tight and Wynonna thinks of Judge Cryderman, bragging about how his family has been in Purgatory for a hundred and forty years, keeping the peace. Keeping the law. As if he weren't a self-important puffed up piece of shit under Bobo's boot heel. ]

Purgatory.

[ That might not be enough of an answer in this place, she realizes; it's an evocative name. ]

Town way out in the middle of nowhere in the Ghost River Triangle. In, uh, Alberta. It's full of washed up cowboys, ranchers, and re –

[ Nope. ] Uh, really big Wyatt Earp fans.

[ Far better is Kate's question, and the way the girl brightens at her own thoughts. Wynonna latches onto the new topic as she reaches for conditioner, relieved to no longer be talking about the town that hates her. ]

Yeah. Waverly. [ Her smile is softer, and so are her eyes, at the word. ] Oldest sister, huh?

[ That explains some things. ]

[ It's definitely a name that gives her pause, her eyes widening for a moment as she stares — almost wondering if she'd heard that right. It's definitely a word she's thought about often in her time in Milton. Maybe this place of Hell, or Hades. Or maybe it's some kind of Purgatory. She doesn't know. All of them are just... kinda guessing. ]

You're seriously from a place called Purgatory...? [ Just hearing that kind of gives her some serious shivers. Like, yikes. And even where it is and the kind of people there gives off some... spooky vibes. ]

Fans? Is he... your dad? [ She's assuming. Also Fans. Like, woah. ] Your dad's famous?

[ There's a small laugh, endeared more than anything. That's actually kind of cute. ]

Waverly and Wynonna. That's kind of sweet you have matching names. My sisters and I don't. [ She nods at the question of being the eldest: ] And... yeah, they're a bit younger than me. My youngest sister's still in Elementary School, she's only ten.

Yeah, I seriously am.

[ She needs another drink if they're going to talk about where she's from, but the motion of lifting the flask to her lips arrests at what Kate says next. ]

Is Wyatt Earp my dad.

[ She's starting to wonder if the worlds these other people came from never had a Wyatt to begin with, or a Doc Holliday, or an OK Corral, or a Tombstone.

Which would mean they didn't have any revenants to deal with, so hell, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

But Kate is so earnest, and isn't the lack of recognition something she likes about this place? Would it really hurt to tell this sweet kid... just the basics? ]

No. He was my great-great granddaddy. A US Marshal and a gunslinger. He settled in Purgatory for a while.

[ She can still hear Doc's drawl. Wyatt Earp wanted to be a farmer. Thirty seconds in the OK Corral and a gunslinger he was made... ]

I guess the 'W' names are kind of a family tradition. Daddy's name was Ward. I picked Waverly's myself, when she was born.

[ Much better to talk about Kate's family than her own. She finally tips some pine wine into her mouth and says: ]

I bet you're a really good big sister.

No offense, but that's kind of... spooky. Like, I get place names are weird sometimes but— uh, yeah.

[ Listen. She knows her Bible as well as her father (although maybe not as much on the count of he's older and has had far more time to study it, also he's a Pastor) and she's pretty good with academic texts, but something's gotta give. There's a whole bunch of stuff she doesn't know, especially about the world. Even her mother had reservations about attending Blackwell, considering it's... broad mix of students. ]

... Oh. [ So her great-great grandfather's famous. She nods, polite. ] I mean, that's still pretty cool, though? And... that's really nice, having a tradition like that.

[ Also picking her sister's name is so sweet? Kate grins for a moment. ]

I try to be. I'm the one they're supposed to look up to, the one who sets the good example. [ Her smile wanes a little. She has... definitely not been that lately. ] Stuff back home's been... kind of all messed up, lately. It's... a long story.

None taken. There are a lot of reasons to hate that town – the name's just one of them.

[ The scent of her conditioner and the pine wine mix in the steam; it's nothing like any bath she's ever had before, and she really wishes Kate weren't so sweet and curious. She's like Waverly with a clue; wanting to learn everything she can. Wanting to know about other people. Which is why Wynonna clicks her tongue, eyebrows lifting sardonically, her glance sliding away from Kate and toward the shadows that line the walls of this cavern. ] Yeah, we've got a whole bunch of fun family traditions.

[ Killing the same revenants over and over again and rampant alcoholism, to name a couple.

But despite the warmth, the wine, and her own thoughts rolling around her head, her glance sharpens when it comes back to Kate and she sees the girl's shuttered smile. Wynonna does some quick mental math on whether this it's a long story is a gentle request for her to ask, or a similarly gentle request for her to not ]

We've got nothing but time here.

[ Which is as much invitation as it isn't, before she shrugs and starts rinsing out her hair. ] But I wouldn't blame you if you want to keep the long story about messed up stuff to yourself. Not like we don't all have plenty to deal with right here and now.

People feel like that about my town, too. At least mine's got a pretty-sounding name in its favour. [ There's the tiniest smile of sympathy with that. Yeah, it sucks sometimes. Arcadia Bay's a small town, and there's plenty of reasons why people think it sucks.

She's quiet for a while, her lips a thin straight line. She realises she hasn't rinsed her own hair out of shampoo and she still needs to condition it, so she breaks the silence by dunking her head into the water — resurfacing to push her hair back and wring it out a little and wiping the water from her face.

The woman is still much a stranger to her, but she's nice for the most part — Kate's found. The offer is vague, as if it can go either way and Kate's appreciative of that. She's already been sorry to burden it onto others, she feels bad to consider burdening it on someone else. ]

I've only... told one person here what happened. And he was really kind about it, even though it probably kind of freaked him out. He's really good to me— [ It's not hard to work out just who that might be. In amongst those she's grown particularly close to, there's one person she spends the most amount of time with out of the whole town. They're often seen together: he visits her often in the Community Hall, sometimes Kate walks with him when he patrols. She's known Edward Little right from the very start, back when they found themselves equally lost out in the wilds. He knows what happened to her, probably worries the most for her.

Kate inhales, stares down at the water. ]

My life's over, back home. [ It's a startling statement, but it's one she knows is true. She knows what she was doing, what she was about to do — and now she's here. ] Not to be like... a huge drama queen.

At least here... people treat me kindly, and... things can be better which... I know sounds pretty messed up considering what this place's like.

It's not... hiding from what happened but it's... room to not have to only ever think about it all the time, you know?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

nature offers a violence

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whoops this went heavy into feels territory....