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

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey still gives Tim a look of supreme dismissal. Boy knows how to talk. But that's all it is, isn't it? Talk.

"I don't know how many people would want to listen to someone who's obviously ill-suited to this place." Don't mind Hickey as he gives Tim a thorough once-over. "You've been here barely a week and you're already wounded. Let me guess. Arm's broken? You're certainly not using it."

And don't mind Hickey as he reaches over to lightly shove that possibly broken arm in a place that he suspects will hurt.

cw with brief allusion to past SA and also pls make him shut up hhff

[ployboy]

The big problem here is that Timothy's seen himself on billboards crammed into the skylines of big cities. He lets the man look; he knows he's adequate. The problem here is, he knows he's about to regret letting that hand touch, but Timothy's got no reason (beyond frowning confusion) to suspect more than a mean-spirited pat.

Tim wonders what it is with men and their delusions of being able to take whatever they want

and then he's swatting off the hand that pushed on the hidden angry red swell of his arm with a raw grimace and strangled hiss.

(If he yells, then he's the clear victim. But this is between them and Tim's not giving anyone else a show today.)

"Thank you--" ignore the misty eyes and harsh whisper thanks "for your astute observation."

It's at least enough to make up Tim's mind. He slides down from the stage edge and stands to his full height, defiant. And this isn't particularly fun, or funny, but he screws on a grin anyway. Daring and wolfish and begging for more. No, he's not quite sure what's wrong with him either. He'll find his way to therapy eventually.

As it is: "There. Stage is all yours, champ. I know everyone's dying to rally around a strong man like you. There's no good reason to keep big ideas all to yourself."

He's a good kid, mind.

"But on the unlikely chance you'll get stage fright. You should know, there's no punishment for not wanting to be a team player. Not from me, anyway."

[friendsfordinner]

There's a wry little smile on Hickey's face as he hears that strangled hiss. Yeah, he knows what that is. He's made his point. And he knows what he's going to do next.

Hickey shakes his head, staying right where he is. "I don't have to go up on a stage and get everybody to look at me. I don't have to be the star of the show. I know my worth and my use already."

And besides, he knows if he goes up there and gives a pretty little speech, a cute little inspiring thing to rally the masses, Thomas Jopson will absolutely throw something at his head.

[ployboy]

He's solved it. A great mystery that he hadn't known he'd been sleeping on. This is the exact person who inspired the birth of U Mad.

Hickey's words are eye-roll worthy, but that doesn't fit Tim as appropriate. Somehow. The residual sting of irritated nerves demands the sight of the man sporting an expression more sorry than smiling.

"The spice of life," Tim murmurs.

The expecting quiet sits for a second.

"Listen, I'm all for constructive criticism. Ad hominem? We'll do better. Both of us."

At five-foot-six there seriously isn't much Tim can do to loom; he relaxes his shoulders, shifts his weight back. Says, "Soon to be barren terrain, a lot of hungry people. Limited, dwindling supplies. Why don't we bring in the animals we're going out to hunt? Is this about control over the... food, furs, if the source gets housed in town? I just guaranteed that one person can't have it."

[friendsfordinner]

"Feel free to take that approach," Hickey says, with a little shrug. "Dreaming of animal husbandry, raising rabbits to kill, mate—go at it. Though, don't mind me asking, how much experience do you have raising those animals?"

This kid has been here what, two weeks? And he's already broken his arm. He has no experience and it's obvious as hell.

[ployboy]

Cutely obtuse, he chirps, "I have a friend who has a friend who has a farm."

One would think he'd take some precautions after getting rudely introduced to this bully. Then again, if he doesn't even know the man's name then it continues to be fair game to play up ignorance. What else are perfect strangers good for anyhow?

[friendsfordinner]

"Ah, so you've got no idea what you're doing!" Hickey laughs. He makes a little clucking noise with his tongue before pointing out, "Makes sense, after all. What with the broken arm and everything."

[ployboy]

This man is obsessed with his broken arm. Tim instinctively, finally, angles himself to be in a position to better shield himself. His brow pinches together at Hickey's laugh- it's expected at this point. He thinks he's learned a good deal about this idiot.

And yet, on the subject of idiots,

"I can honestly say I've never put much thought behind rodents bumping uglies, no."

Supply and demand, incentives, coercion, ethics and justifiable trespasses-- far more up his alley.

Resources aren't limited to rabbits, though. Tim watches, gives the man the whole up-and-down and fights a little smile the entire time, because his life is irreparably broken. "By the way, what's your name? I'll name a real dick after you."

[friendsfordinner]

Throwing your weight behind a project you haven't put much thought into strikes Hickey as categorically stupid. Times are good at the moment. Food is here. So you experiment. You try half a dozen things, see what works, don't make loud useless little proclamations because you're a loud useless little well-off city boy who wants to be important.

(Because of course Tim is a well-off city boy. He's been broadcasting that their entire conversation. Anyone who had actually suffered wouldn't be yammering on about solutions to hear their own voice. They'd just do the fucking job.)

"Cornelius Hickey," he says with a nod. And because Hickey is also a bit of a shit, "Terrible idea for a man who wants to be important to antagonize his constituents."

[ployboy]

Of course Tim is a well-off city boy, that's not the point! He's bordering on breaking, not because Cornelius (holy shit his name is Cornelius Hickey) is exceptionally talented or witty, but because

"Oh my god, you pushed me- that's literal speaking, by the way; I had expected criticism on farming."

Is he going to demand an apology, no. Is he going to poke fun at a man named Hickey, no. Truly, Tim is a good person.

"Gaining constituents-- that's new, too, but whatever you call yourself isn't my business Mr. Hickey."

Fuck, okay, maybe he can't help but poke fun at a grown man called Hickey. Sue him. And also, shut up.

"You didn't ask, but fair is fair. I'm Tim Drake. I'm investing today for a better tomorrow."

--how's that for a Student Council slogan, huh.