methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2023-11-09 04:18 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2023-11-09 04:18 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- alluri rama raju: xil,
- bigby wolf: jelle,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- dean winchester: verna,
- edward little: jhey,
- harry goodsir: karin,
- jack kline: jean,
- jason mcconnell: balsam,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- kieren walker: cheryl,
- knives: lassie,
- la'an noonien-singh: amy,
- levi jordan: cirape,
- louis de pointe du lac: tea,
- max mayfield: jean,
- rei ayanami (ii): floral,
- rorschach: shade,
- thomas jopson: kota,
- tim drake: fox,
- vash the stampede: fen,
- vash the stampede: fyn,
- wynonna earp: lorna
nature offers a violence
NOVEMBER 2023 EVENT
PROMPT ONE — WHITEOUT: Methuselah makes an unexpected early return to Milton to warn Interlopers of an impending monster storm, and boy does it surely come.
PROMPT TWO — A CHOICE: Following the storm, sightings of a mysterious stag prompts a hunt down in the Basin and out in the Outskirts.
PROMPT THREE — REST MY WEARY BONES: While the storm causes a great deal of mess, it also uncovers some far more pleasant surprises. Hot springs.
WHITEOUT
WHEN: Early to mid-month.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: extreme weather; storms; blizzards; themes of survival; possible character cold-related injuries; possible themes of peril.
In the times that he is no longer occupying the Community Hall in the center of town to help tend to the newcomers, Methuselah is out in the wilds. Despite his growing age, he is a hardened survivor, and has been more than accustomed to life living as a nomad, out in the thickest, deepest parts of nature. Sometimes he can be encountered, sheltered in a cave or out in the woods, huddled by a warm campfire, or busying himself with his latest game catch. He seems to be always on the move, never staying for too long, and never coming into town — unless it’s to begin preparations for the latest batch of new arrivals.
To see him returning to Milton outside of these times is a curious sight, and the grim expression he carries is enough to make anyone wary. Even his voice is grave. The warmth and kindness usually found in his expression is gone, replaced with a deathly seriousness. He doesn’t speak in jest.
"I am long used to this world and its weather, even with the changing times to more bitter nights." he will say. "I have seen the years rise and fall, too many to count. Please, I beg that you hear me with this— a storm is coming. Greater than some of you may have ever known. It is in the air, and we must prepare to see it through. We do not have much time. Three days, perhaps. But no more."
He will tell anyone and everyone; encouraging the word to be spread around. He will instruct on what needs to be done, what needs to be gathered. The storm will be long and hard, and will last for some time. With that, Methuselah will begin to prepare the Community Hall as a place of refuge with a stock of food, fuel and water to get through the storm. Interlopers will be free to join Methuselah and bunker down together, or can choose to bunker down on their own in their own homes, or with others.
You have only three days.
And sure enough, the storm comes. Maybe you can notice the signs too: the sudden updraft, the slow gathering of clouds, the drop in temperature, the changes of pressure in the air.
Halfway through the third day, the storm rolls in: a ferocious snow-storm unlike anything you’ve seen before. Even with the fading amount of daylight as mid-winter approaches, the sky turns as dark as night as will stay like night for the duration. Strong howling winds batter the town, and even the sturdiest of buildings creak and groan under the weight. Trees will be felled, some buildings might not fare the storm.
Relentless snow that falls so hard it’s a complete whiteout, and will be impossible to navigate if one were to step outside. Even then, it isn’t advisable. The temperature is bitter, with a frigid windchill. Going out in this kind of storm would be a death sentence. Staying out in it for longer than a half-hour will certainly kill you.
It would be best to wait it out, to huddle around warm fires in the darkness. It may certainly be a test of patience, depending on your choice of place to stay. The storm will last a full week, a stark reminder of what you are, the words you have heard in your arrival: thrown to Mother Nature’s mercy, the Interloper in her design.
But will you persist?
A CHOICE
WHEN: Mid-month, onwards to end of month.
WHERE: Milton Basin, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: survival themes; themes of hunting; possible animal death.
After the storm passes, there’s a certain kind of hush that falls upon Milton and its surrounding areas as Interlopers are left to pick through the wake. While the temperature certainly doesn’t get that much warmer, there’s days and nights of clear, calm weather — short afternoons of weak sunshine and nights of chilly peace, the moon hung high in the starry skies. Winter is drawing ever-closer, but it’s still for a little while.
In the early evenings, before the sun sets, there’s strange sightings of a particular white stag that can be found roaming the area — particularly down in the Milton Basin. It seems quite elusive, but there’s plenty of Interlopers that have been able to capture a glimpse over the coming days. Even Methuselah himself has seen this beast before, remarking there has long been tall tales of a ghostly stag that roams the Northern Territories and is said to bring good fortune to those who manage to hunt it down.
Perhaps you’re a little low on luck. Perhaps you’re feeling lucky. You’re going to find that stag.
Hunting down the stag, however, will take a great deal of patience and time. You might find yourself waiting several hours to wait for it to appear. Building a snow shelter, or hunkering down in some old shack might be needed in order to keep warm. But if you’re patient enough, and able to withstand the cold for long enough — the beast will soon make an appearance.
In the dying light of the day, it is there. It’s unlike any deer you’ve seen before: tall and majestic, with thick, soft fur of brilliant white. It almost looks ghost-like in some angles, it’s an incredibly beautiful creature. But it seems to have also noticed you, just as you have noticed it. It doesn’t dart away, however. Instead it stands before you, waiting for you to act.
You have a choice: slay the creature, or let it go.
It will not move until you make your decision, holding your gaze until you raise your weapon or until you lower it and give up your hunt. But there is a consequence to either action: if you choose to kill the stag, you will be rewarded with a sizeable bounty of venison. Eating said meat will help you feel fuller for longer, and the meat will keep for far longer than any other deer slain.
However, if you choose to spare the stag, the creature will lower its head, as if bowing to you. Then, it will disappear with a swirling of powdered snow. When you return home for the evening and go to sleep, the next morning you will find a gift at the foot of your bed: a pair of deerskin boots, or a deerskin blanket. These boots are supple, tough and waterproof — allowing for a great balance of mobility and warmth. The blanket is incredibly toasty, and will provide a great deal of comfort in the long nights ahead.
REST MY WEARY BONES
WHEN: Mid-month, onwards indefinitely.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a.
The storm has blown in plenty of snow to make traversing the area much more difficult, but there’s something else of note that comes with its passing. While the storm has brought much devastation, and some places have been buried in snow drifts, plenty of snow in areas has been blown away, uncovering otherwise lost secrets within Milton. Clouds of what looks like steam can be noted not too far from town, towards the mountains of the north.
If Interlopers head to explore the clouds, they will find old trails leading up towards the mountains. It isn’t a particularly difficult journey, for once, and they will soon discover that the storm has blown away the previously blocked access to a cave. It appears that this is the right place.
The air is warm here, pleasantly so. Warm enough that hats and mittens and coats seem a little unnecessary. One might wonder if someone lives within, and that a great fire is stoked to keep the place warm. But there’s no one in sight, no sounds of life: human, animal or otherwise. If they press on, they will discover that the cave floor is well worn with footfall: plenty of people have come here before, and the reason why is soon revealed.
The air grows even warmer, and more humid. The space opening to reveal small pools of slow-flowing water, warm water. The stone houses a natural hot spring, and following the cave out the other side will lead to another space in the rock open to the air, where there are even larger pools of warm water, perfectly sized and deep enough to bathe in. It seems that this place was frequently used by the people of Milton, where their life of hardship could be forgotten for an hour or two.
The water is pleasantly hot, and incredibly inviting. After so long in the freezing cold without modern appliances and utilities, a natural hot spring sounds like an absolute luxury.
FAQs
1. Characters are free to play around with this prompt how they want. Maybe they're dumb enough to go into the cold and get injured or sick. Maybe they're stuck in the Community Hall for the week. Fights might break out as tensions run high whilst everyone's stuck together, or maybe you're actually having a nice time.
2. For those stuck in the Community Hall: there are board games and old school textbooks stored in cupboards. There is also a piano.
3. A floorplan of the Community Hall can be found here.
1. .... Yes, you can pet the ghost stag.
2. Characters will get one choice only with the ghost stag, meaning they can't keep going back to find it to get extra gifts.
3. If characters can't agree on a course of action, whoever acts first will get their gift. The second character will have a chance to try again another time.
4. If both characters agree on sparing the stag, but players want different gifts (ie. one player wants the boots and one wants the blanket), characters will get the gift the player wants their character to receive.
1. The hot springs will now be a permanent fixture in the Milton Area, enjoy!
whiteout
You can patch these?
[ They'd be less stylish, maybe but a hell of a lot warmer. ]
Re: whiteout
I am not wholly unfamiliar with the heavy fabric, miss, though it isn't simple. But I think I could ensure that they will protect you from the wind.
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[ Her other pair of jeans is almost as ripped, but they'll be fine for now. What she really wishes she had is a pair of those flannel pajama pants Waverly always sends her for Christmas. ]
Where'd you learn to do this stuff?
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[His smile is a little sheepish and very humble.]
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[ She perches nearby, but doesn't go to change so she can bring him her jeans yet. ]
I don't have much to trade, but I can chop some wood for you once the storm's over.
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Yes, thank you. I would appreciate it.
My name is Thomas Jopson. Yours, miss?
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[ These kind of small interactions don't normally go so well for her; she's wondering when the metaphorical floor might drop out. ]
Just Wynonna's fine, unless that's going to stress you out.
Before, you said 'captain.' You were the captain's steward. [ People think she doesn't listen, but she does! And she can, occasionally, put two and two together and make something resembling four. ]
Were you, uh... on the same expedition as some of these other guys?
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It doesn't stress him out, but propriety is the only thing he has to hang onto these days.]
I was, yes. I was Captain Crozier's steward on Terror. Most of us were on that ship, but Goodsir was on Erebus.
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So how is it? Having your shipmates around?
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[He doesn't like giving out actual answers to how he feels; the answers are far too complicated.]
Even now.
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All I know is, if I'd just spent years crammed on a ship with a bunch of people, they'd be the last ones I'd want to see someplace else. But then, you seem like more of a people person.
[ Than her, anyway. The bar for that one is set so damn low it's melting from being so close to the Earth's core. ]
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And - I have been with the Captain for many years beyond that. We sailed to Antarctica.
[He shakes his head with a smile.]
I was just a boy, then.
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[ She'd have gone to Antarctica if she'd thought it would get her far enough from the damn curse, but Athens had seemed plenty far and a lot more enjoyable, weather-wise. ]
Sounds like you must have liked all the adventuring, if you stuck with it that long.
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It was a job at first. I needed that.
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[ He has a nice smile, but what she's noticing more than anything are his (relatively) clean cheeks. Wynonna gestures at her own. ]
So how come you're not taking part in the muttonchop trend all your expedition buddies have going on? Your face just naturally warmer?
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Ah. I was ill for - for a while. I had to shave.
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[ More for the illness than for the loss of the muttonchops; she never thought she'd ever consider Doc's mustache subtle, but that was before she met this crew. ]
Well, give it a few weeks, I'm sure they'll be back and bushy as ever.
[ She hooks a thumb over her shoulder, jerking it toward the direction of the bathrooms. ] I'm just gonna go change. Back in a second with the patient.
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Bummer.
[He likes that word. He's going to find a way to use it one day. But in the meantime, he waits for her clothes, prepping one of his thicker needles and a bit of scrap cloth for a patch.]
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You sure you don't mind? It's a slippery slope into becoming the town tailor. Probably.
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[It would keep him busy.
He takes the jeans and slides them inside out, patching up the holes with spare red fabric.]
I hope you don't mind the color.
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[ She shakes her head, perching on a table edge nearby to watch as he works. ]
Stylin'.
[ Her mother had never been much of one for sewing – she was too wild a thing, just like the daughters she bore – but Wynonna has a few misty memories of watching her darn a sock or laboriously mend a torn dress. There's no competition: Jopson's better.
The storm lashes at the boarded-up windows of the hall; her mouth twists as she lifts her head to listen to the wind howl. ]
At least you've got something to do while we're all stuck in here.
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It isn't about getting in good with them, miss. It's a need that should be filled.
[He looks up to her.]
But it does pass the time. How have you been filling the hours?
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[ She slips a deck of cards from inside a jacket pocket, riffling through them. ]
Mostly I've been teaching people how to play poker... you play cards at all?
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I know the rules of many games, yes.
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[ When was poker invented? She has no idea. ]
Either of those ring a bell?
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