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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01. WHITEOUT - pre-storm

[ the warning doesn't go unheeded - especially for vash, for whom this weather is still a new and unfamiliar thing. it is a different thing by far to the chill of the cryosleep pods, different to the vast emptiness of zero gravity, the hum of the SEEDS ship like a pulsing beat of a heart. but all those things have been such a long time ago, that he can no longer properly recall the feelings; it comes to him in fragments, rather, broken recollections that has no basis in reality anymore.

in any case, he makes himself useful - or feel useful, in any way that he is able to. he might be out in the forest gathering some firewood to stock up, or else helping to chop them up behind the churchyard or the community hall. he might be helping to repair a broken roof or window, strengthening them against the oncoming storm. maybe he is asking you to show him this or that, to better assist with the preparation. or maybe he comes trudging through the snow to knock on your door, wondering if you need any help?

note: he will be out and about milton and the community hall in the first three days before the storm hits, please feel free to catch him! during the storm he will probably be at the church. happy to write closed starters for anyone if you'd like :> other ideas for fun times: cooking in the community hall (please teach him), the piano which he will tinker with if he thinks there's nobody around paying attention, and a bunch of other stuff! ]

02. A CHOICE

[ vash is out in the forest, but not for the reasons that some others might be; he's heard about the stag - the ghostly white beast that roams the outer forests. he doesn't really think there is anything to the rumour that it brings good luck - but he is naturally curious, if anything, to see an animal that he's only read about ... and it would surely be a waste of such a creature if someone were to kill it out of some selfish (or unselfish) desires.

ostensibly, he is meant to be foraging, but really, he is just keeping a lookout. ]

03. SNOW ADVENTURES

[ the calm weather after the storm is a welcome thing; it doesn't feel any less colder, but the lack of the biting wind makes it better than the days in the beginning when he'd first arrived, and certainly much more of an improvement to the storm they just weathered. so he is out here, doing some much needed snow shovelling to clear the pathways.

please throw a snowball at him. or show him what else you can do with the snow aside from working. he needs fun times! ]

04. REST MY WEARY BONES

[ the hot springs are new ... and as welcoming as the steam rising from the water looks, vash doesn't seem very convinced as he hangs about at the edge of one of the smaller pools, looking down at the water with a slight, doubtful furrow set in his brows. surely he isn't scared of the water? or maybe he can't swim? or is he one of those people who take ice baths and refuse the comfort of a hot spring? please throw him in there i'm begging you. ]

05. WILDCARD

[ anything else in mind? please hit me up with a wildcard or we can chat! my plotting comment for the event is here if you need :> thanks! ]

Edited 2023-11-10 01:15 (UTC)

[ When Vash knocks on the door of a small, single-story home, nobody answers. At least for a while.

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? ]

[ it is quiet here; the only sound that he's heard this whole morning has just been the crunch of his boots in the snow, some distant sounds of others doing similar - knocking on doors, calling out to each other, taking back some of the more useful supplies that would come in handy to weather the storm. he hasn't had much luck finding anybody who's still willing to stick around on their own after methuselah's warning, that he is almost expecting there to be no answer again when he knocks on the door of the next standalone house that he comes across.

so forgive him for squawking too-loud and too-ungainly, when rei peers out at him through the gap of the door. ] Wahh!!!!!

[ vash nearly jumps out of his skin, stumbling back a few steps and nearly tripping over his own feet in the backward progress, and finally clutching at the banisters before he could plunge backwards into the (mostly) undisturbed snow of the front yard of the house. promise, he didn't think she was a ghost ... ]

I didn't think you were a ghost, or anything! I'm sorry! Did I scare you?

[ Well, that's a reaction. Rei isn't really sure what to make of it, so she opens the door fully, and watches the man narrowly avoid a concussion. Rei, meanwhile, watches him calmly, as if observing an interesting cloud, or ripples on the water.

Did I scare you is a bit of a dumb question, though. If anything, it seems like she's scared him, although Rei can never be sure about that sort of thing. ]

No.

[ A beat, as she studies him a little longer. ]

What are you doing here?

[ the way she watches all of the disaster unfold - quiet and detached, almost disinterested in the way her gaze travels across all of his useless, frenetic motion - would maybe unnerve most people, or at worst, piss them off. unfortunately, vash does neither of those things. ] Ahaha...

[ he gingerly straightens back up (in the loosest sense of the word, that is; it is almost a second nature for him to hunch it seems, almost as though he is used to making himself out to be much smaller than he is) and unclenches his hand from where it has the railing in a death grip, shaking out the shards of frozen ice from his glove as he awkwardly chuckles. ] Um, alright- That's good!

I'm just here to see if you ... maybe needed help, or something! This storm is going to be a pretty big one. It might be better if you come and stay with everyone. It's only for a little while, okay?

[ seeing as rei is so quiet, vash must have had an idea that she's maybe still a bit apprehensive of him being there, because his smile grows a little more wobbly and pleading. all in all, it is kind of like seeing a pathetic show animal cock his head to one side, begging for attention. ]

Sorry! Forgot to introduce myself. I'm Vash - what's your name?

[With so many people out gathering supplies and stuff there are a few times the community center is empty. Or mostly empty. Its one of those times when Levi, carrying an armful of logs, intrudes on Vash's piano time. He stops but doesn't say anything. Maybe the other man hasn't noticed him and he can just listen for a bit.]

[ he has noticed the instrument before, when he'd first arrived and was huddled into the corner. vash doesn't know just what made him sit down in front of the piano, carefully lifting up the cover to stare down at the black and white keys. truthfully, they have so much more things to do - vash could count at least ten more things he has to get done before the sun is down, everyone being busy with the preparation, but .... but.

vash doesn't play, exactly - he is woefully out of practice (it has been, after all, more than a century since he'd touched one) and it shows in the unsteady, hesitant way that he lets his fingers play through a few notes, the sound echoing even though vash is trying to play as quietly as he can. his metallic fingers pose for a whole new challenge as well; it is dextrous enough for everyday tasks, but vash is not used to using it for something like this, which means that when he goes back to the beginning, goes through the song again, he keeps hitting the wrong keys even though the pace is as slow and halting as it gets, like a child learning how to play for the first time. ]

[He's tempted to just stand here and watch, it was so much like when he tried to poke at the instrument. Only a few notes remembered from a song, even less he knew the keys for. But he won't. This guy was in here alone, so he probably wanted to keep it that way. He moves to go drop of the wood by the fire, but on his way a log slides loose and goes crashing to the ground. Levi flinches, so much for trying to be silent.]

[ so much for trying to be silent...

levi had been very good at being silent, because up until that point vash had no idea that anyone was in the vicinity to hear him, much less stop and listen ... until that log betrayed them both, of course. he full-body jumps to awareness with a yelp, jerking his head up to catch sight of the other - and then yelping again, a little, pathetic whine of a sound, when the lid of the piano bangs down with the sudden motion right on the back of his prosthetic hand. ]

Uh - ow - [ vash scrambles off the seat, practically leaping a foot off to the side, and does his best worst attempt at looking as if he weren't anywhere near the piano. ] I'm sorry!!!!

[ just what is he apologising for, anyway? ]

N-no, I'm sorry! I'm sorry to interrupt you! I-i'll just..let me put these down a-and I can go.

[He starts quickly putting the logs down, supremely embarrassed.]

You weren't interrupting anything! Really!

[ vash extracts his hand from underneath the lid of the piano, shaking it out (funny, considering that it's ... you know, not a real flesh and blood hand) even as he grins a little uncertainly at the other. he reaches his other hand out towards levi almost automatically before hesitating a little, so that it hovers awkwardly. ]

I was just ... I wasn't really doing much. Don't worry. You really didn't do anything! I promise!

I-its okay. I can leave...I just...I liked your playing.

[Even if it wasn't really a song. Piano music was calming to him.]

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skelters - 2023-11-23 23:10 (UTC) - Expand

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solitarysoul - 2023-11-24 16:21 (UTC) - Expand

[After being cooped up in the Community Hall, Jopson's looking forward to a little bit of an adventure. The stag is just the sort of walkabout that he feels he can do. He wants to at least spot it, to assuage his curiosity if nothing else.

Unfortunately, his body isn't in the same shape as his mind. He knows, and he hates that he knows, that he needs help. The other Terrors (and Goodsir) are off limits due to his own reluctance to actually ask for help from them, so Jopson is left with few options.

Fortunately, he comes across Vash as he's foraging and Jopson spots an opportunity.]

What are you searching for?

[ either he wasn't paying enough attention, or jopson is much too quiet, or it could be just sheer, bad timing that he speaks up just as vash is bent over double under a knobby tree to shuffle through the snow-covered pile of leaves, but the result is dramatic; first, he lets out an ungainly yelp of surprise. second, when vash tries to straighten up too quickly, his hand slides out from underneath his weight on the treacherously slippery leaves, sending him off balance. thirdly, when he finally grabs for a low hanging branch for balance and pull himself upright, the added weight and tremor would send a heaping pile of snow right down on top of vash. ]

...

[ all in all, it is really a disaster. not that vash seems to really mind (or care), seeing that he lets out a bright peal of laughter while shaking himself free of all the snow that's piled up around his shoulders and into his hair, trying to brush the clumps of ice away before they could fall in between the layers of his clothes. ]

Oh - oops - Sorry, you startled me!

[ an understatement of the century considering the circus act that jopson has just witnessed. ]

[And all he can do is stare, belatedly reaching out to try and catch him before realizing that would send them both tumbling, then deciding to simply hurry over.

At least until he starts laughing.

And that laughter, of course, sends Jopson into peals of laughter as well. Laughter he's not heard in himself or anyone else in a while.]

Are you quite alright?

[ it's good to laugh. it's even better, somehow, to laugh together with someone else. it makes vash feel all sorts of tingle - some kind of unexpected joy, like a secret presented that nobody else knows - to feel included, like he is a part of something. he's always liked it; to be surrounded by others who could share in a hummingbird buzz of emotions, to crawl into the middle of all the tumble of words and laughter and noises. it is too quiet out here in the snow. it makes the empty echo of his thoughts much too loud.

so he greets jopson with a bright smile, not at all dampened by the hail of snow still clinging to his person - even if there is ice cold water dripping down the back of his neck from where the frost has melted. ]

I'm more than okay! I'm sorry- I wasn't paying attention.

[ he probably should've. it could have been anyone or anything - jopson is probably the luckier alternative to whatever is lurking out here in the forest, stag not included. ]

Edited 2023-11-23 22:56 (UTC)

You were paying attention. Just - not to me.

[But that's a small price to pay.]

What were you doing?

Oh! I'm just- [ half-turning, vash waves a vague hand in a direction; snow, snow, and more snow. ] -Having a walk.

[ that sounds like the world's lamest excuse, even to him, and vash lets out a sigh before he shakes himself down, getting rid of the worst of the snowdrift from his clothes - and huffs a short laugh half to himself. ]

To be honest, I heard there was something wandering around.

I got worried, so... I came to see.

As did I. Rumors like that can seem - [He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts.]

Well.

They can certainly lead to funny things. I was walking there myself and could use the company.

The storm is in full force outside.

The snow is falling steadily; Vash can hear the soft sound of it echoing against the shingled roof overhead, sounding counterpoint to the way the heavy fall of his footsteps seem to reverberate around this (ostensibly) empty space of the chapel as he walks past the quiet rows of the pews towards the altar. no matter how quietly he tries to shuffle along and stifle the sound of his footsteps it doesn't seem to have any effect at all, and vash feels ungainly and clumsy, ill-fitting in his own skin - but maybe it is just this place, after all. It reminds him of the quiet of that room, the vast empty space watched over by the silent, stony eyes of his ... sisters, he has to remind himself, calcified and frozen in the moment of their death.

He doesn't believe in prayers. He doesn't know if he ever had. Before the ships fell, before the bowels of ship 5 spat out the secrets it'd been hiding, before everything else - Vash had no need of such things. Everything he'd wanted had been right there; his brother. Rem. It hadn't seemed like anything else much mattered outside of that. And now, in this strange place in this strange world, standing amidst all the dust and decay of long abandoned stead, he can't bring himself to pray at all. It's a bit too late for that. He doubts that he even deserves to have anyone listen.

Vash stops in front of the altar, looking upwards at the ceiling; he has a wild thought, for a moment, that maybe the old decayed dome could cave in under all the weight of the snow - bury him and everything else in snowy white. But it remains just a thought. Only a thought, to be dispelled when he hears a sound that is not his, coming from not so far a distance. There is someone else here.

Instantly, Vash goes on the alert - not in a way that speaks of any wariness, but one of concern, his eyes lighting up with worry.

"Hello?" He calls, pitching his voice - but even were he to speak normally, his voice would carry in the silence. "Is anyone there?"

It's not Catholic, Louis notes mechanically. That doesn't mean anything, he's lapsed, but he reflexively notices anyway out of habit. It's modest on the outside compared to the church Louis was accustomed to walking with his brother to. Fairly typical of churches built in more remote, hardier, snowier regions, Louis thinks. The stained glass windows are nice, what little he can see of them through the blizzard.

He risked his life again to leave the Community Hall. He couldn't take being around all those people anymore. He didn't want to wake up one evening driven mad by the hunger and unable to resist biting one of them. He bundled up in his jacket, scarf, gloves, and warm snow boots and left like a thief in the night.

There's a scratching at the doors, then a disjointed banging. Whoever is outside is too weak or frozen by the storm to manage them on his own.

"Help me, please," a crying moan finally filters in, nearly disguised by the howling wind outside. He doesn't think anyone is in here. It's just the desperate cry of a person into the ether, for Louis has no knowledge whether his God is listening.

It only takes Vash a minute - maybe a little less, though it might feel like a hundred years to Louis - to fumble with the handle of the doors before flinging them open. The rush of blisteringly cold air hits his face all at once, and he doesn't think he'd ever get used to it - the way it freezes the air in his lungs, every breath sharp needlepoint that prickles all down his throat; the way his skin breaks out into goosebumps (an entirely new sensation to him, really, who'd never really been bothered by the heat or the cold in the open desert).

But that isn't really the focus here. His gaze falls to the pitiful crumpled form of someone on the steps - even in this distance it is hard to make out the shape, with the burst of snowstorm - and Vash lets out a surprised sound, immediately darting forward to catch at Louis, his arms coming around the other to haul him to his feet, dragging them backwards to the church - to sanctuary, to protection, to somewhere where Vash can lay out the other on the floor shielded from the storm raging outside and to shoulder the doors back closed with a dusty, creaky bang, bolting it shut with another cracking sound of old wood. And only then does he turn back to the other, jumping back into his space and to fumble with the clothing wrapped around Louis, brushing away the frozen ice to lie in half-melting puddles on the floor.

"Hey-" His fingers find the other's cheek. It feels like putting his hand into a bucket of ice. Vash presses the palm of his hand against the curve of the other's face, gently turning his head. He recognises the other man - and his voice drops from surprise to worry. "Louis - That's your name, isn't it? Can you hear me?"

Louis scrambles inside. The wind blows him in like an ungainly bird. Coordination in his limbs is down. The doors shut on the howling, and he's gone quiet. Someone is batting at him. His savior. He jerks away from his hand. He doesn't think of a mother feeling for a fever or frostbite. He only thinks of fangs and someone in his space where he shouldn't be. Skin, with blood pumping underneath--

He shouldn't have come here.

"Hear you just fine," he lies. The scream of the storm is still in his ears. His eyes take in the church, mercifully empty. The wood looks warm. Roofs are pitched high so the weight of snow won't collapse them, but that means the ceilings steal all the heat. It's cool, but not freezing. It feels warm to him. His skin prickles as it relearns how to feel.

He makes a convulsive struggling movement up from the floor, but can't quite get himself to rise.

"Maybe I'll just sit here."

Louis can yell at him, or be angry, or offended, or any other myriad of feelings that he might see fit to vent at Vash - he doesn't mind. He's had worse, before. Not that there is anything that much warrants such comparison, of course; his body and his heart had always betrayed him so much quicker than the rest of him, moving before any conscious thought or logic could stay his hands. Here is someone who needs help. And whether the consequence to that was for good or for worse, Vash was going to do exactly that. It only feels right.

"You can't," at least Louis can talk, and he seems conscious enough to try to struggle up from where he has collapsed on the floor - and Vash's voice is a mix of relief and exasperation and worry and dumb, absurd level of soothing. As though the other man is someone who needs such a thing. As though this frozen wasteland of a town would ever allow such a thing to survive.

"How long have you been out there? You need help."

Without his vampiric senses, Louis must rely on the movement of Vash's lips and, more than anything, his expression and body language. It's obvious to him what he is saying. No translation required. He has heard it before, the intonations of a well-meaning soul. The priest...

"Came from... Hall."

He almost says "Hell" because being trapped with that many humans and his cresting hunger was something like that, and the journey was slow going in the storm. He tries to run over the list of things he needs to do to get his body back to normal. Unfortunately, that is beyond him. He only knows that he needs to move. Lying down in the snow was a death sentence.

"Why you here, no one's supposed to be... here." Of all places. Unless Vash came here, like him, out of some phantom pain idea of sanctuary.

Either he remains here and suffers the embarrassment of being carried somewhere, or he musters up the strength to get up under his own power. Louis likes to keep up appearances. He likes to maintain the illusion that no one can mess with or disrespect him.

He splits the difference. He attempts an awkward shuffle to his feet, one hand attempting to use Vash as a handrail, and the start of a stagger towards the armrest of the nearest pew.

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nature offers a violence

VASH | trigun stampede

01; door knocking

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> for flambeaux;

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pathetique