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

nightmares

[load_aim_shoot]

[Usually Raju sleeps like a rock, and wakes like one. But usually Raju can work, he can train, he can run, he can find anything which needs doing and do it, and another thing, and another until he's exhausted enough to lay down and be still and sleep through dreams. Usually he isn't trapped in one place with no room and no equipment to tire his body, and not enough which needs doing to tire his mind.

There's a welcome, alert feeling when he realises someone nearby is having as much trouble sleeping as he is, or maybe more — relief, he thinks a moment later, frowning at the thought and turning his head to watch whoever it is stand and walk away. The feeling is relief.

No one who's woken from a nightmare that way would be happy to hear it, that Raju was glad, no matter how badly he needs any kind of distraction while the night refuses to pass. But then, no one has to know. And it doesn't matter anyway.

He waits a moment so it won't be so obvious that he's following and then sits up, frowns back at the mattress once he does and, in quick, decisive movements, tugs a blanket off of it and wraps it around his shoulders, pushes his feet into his shoes and ties them quickly. Even if the fire wasn't lower at night with no one awake to feed it, this isn't the kind of place to walk through in bare feet.

Armed from shoulders to toe against the chill, he moves in the direction that he'd seen her go, and stops in the kitchen's doorway. I'm sorry, I'm— she says, and Raju's eyes widen just a little at the tears he can see reflected in her eyes against the meagre light.

He considers. Then he moves to sit on the floor a foot or two away from her, tightening the blanket around his shoulders as he shifts around.]

Sorry for what? What did you do?

[His voice is matter of fact, and not a whisper like hers; he's been sleeping in the same room with too many men for too many years to be that careful, and isn't thinking about anyone else. All of his attention is on this room: a little on the stove she's claimed the warmest spot in front of, but most of it on her expression, on her.]

[castitas]

[ In truth, she expects reprimand. While there's people she knows all huddled in here to shelter from the storm, this man isn't one of them. He doesn't know her, nor does she expect compassion when people are already on edge and sick of being stuck together.

And she's no stranger to the perils of dorm-living. Even if she doesn't make all that much noise, she's used to hearing the other girls in the dormitory banging on each other's doors and yelling about keeping the noise down when it's too late at night, or too early in the morning.

What she doesn't expect is for him to sit on the floor with her. ]

I— I woke you up. [ She's a little wary, but she's still apologetic. ] I don't mean to, I've been trying really hard to not wake others up when it happens but sometimes—

[ She can't help it. ]

[load_aim_shoot]

[Some part of Raju has taught the rest of him, afterward, to wake up still and empty and quiet, but Seetha still makes noise. Or she had, the few times he hadn't been tired enough to sleep through it. Before he'd left.

No sense in thinking about that now.]

Sometimes it's just loud. I know. [There's a little sympathy in his voice, but he's not saying it for sympathy; he's saying it because it's true, only finishing her thought. He shrugs, as much to move the blanket up higher as for the gesture itself.] I was already awake anyway. It's impossible to sleep here.

[Those tears in her eyes, though. He realises he doesn't know what to do about them. When he was young, sitting with Seetha like this, on the floor in the night, in the dark, he hadn't needed to do anything. Their nightmares had been the same. Sometimes she had cried. Sometimes he had tried to. Usually they had only sat there quietly, or lay there, Seetha wrapped around him to help rebuild the flimsy walls between her awareness and memory.

It's different here, with a stranger. But she's so young. It's hard not to want to do something. Raju's mouth opens, slowly for a moment as he hesitates. Then he grasps at the first thing that he can think to try.]

Do you like talking about it? Some people do. Or so I hear.

[castitas]

[ She nods and sniffles quietly as he finishes. Yeah. Basically just like that. And she's real sorry for it. But more than that, he knows. And it gives her pause for a moment. ]

It's hard to get used to. [ She agrees quietly, her head dropping slightly. She's been staying in the Community Hall ever since she first arrived here. Even still, she's not seen this many people sleeping in one place. The others have been quick to find their own homes in the town rather than staying in the Hall. She's been too frightened to leave, too scared to live on her own.

She's quiet for a few moments, her lips pressed together. She doesn't know if she'd like to talk about it. Not with how... gross it makes her feel, how sick and dizzy she feels. But still, she considers for a bit before she finally speaks: ]

Do you ever have dreams that scare you, even if they don't make sense? Even if they're not real?

[ Not... based on real things. Dreams that are scary but... not memories.

(She doesn't realise the truth. How could she?) ]

[load_aim_shoot]

[Raju's eyebrows twitch into a frown, and then he thinks: Akhtar would have smiled. Said something warm, comforting. Seetha might have hugged the girl. But something in that is too far a gulf to cross for a stranger, for Raju, especially when the honest answer is no. His nightmares are always real.

There's no point in trying to sympathise now. The light in here isn't so dim that it would have hidden his expression. His eyes, still looking confused, move curiously over her face. The tears in her eyes were real. But nothing that isn't real, in the night, has ever made him feel that way. Everything that doesn't come from memory is something that he can fight. He's too tired, sleeps too deeply with it, to remember his dreams anyway, not for years. Before he came here. Here, it's impossible to work hard enough to earn himself that kind of rest. But that's a problem for the next time he tries to sleep. Not for now.]

What about it was so frightening? [If sympathy is a wash, he can at least try to understand.] If you couldn't make sense of it?

[castitas]

Everything's so specific, like it might be real but I know it's not. But then that means my head made it up, and— [ It's always the same dream, there's very little that changes about it. It horrifies her to think her mind could make up something so terrible, and even still she has no idea where he mind could conjure up such images.

She swallows thickly. She feels gross, small. Dizzy. She hugs at her knees a little more tightly, shuddering a little. She always feels so gross afterwards. ]

I can't... move, in the dream. I can never move. [ Trapped, like an animal. Like something covers her in thick wool — makes her limbs too heavy to stuff, muffles the world around her. ] And even if the voice that speaks to me is so calm, so assuring... I don't feel safe. I just... want him to let me go.

[load_aim_shoot]

[She shudders and Raju wants to reach out to her, wants to at least squeeze at her shoulder. He pulls his blanket more tightly around himself instead. A friend should be here, someone who could comfort her. But that's part of being trapped in this place, isn't it? If she has friends who would be here for her now, they aren't. Raju is the one who's here. He leans forward a little to keep listening.

It usually doesn't take him long to figure out what to do next; usually only an instant. Now, it takes a little longer than that.

Treat it as if it were real. It's what he knows how to do. If he's lucky, maybe she'll be the type who's comforted by trying to find out more, by knowing more, even if whatever she comes to know is terrible. Once you know what it is you're facing, the thing can be fought.]

And what is it he wants? Does he tell you?

[castitas]

I... don't know. [ Her lips purse for a long moment, brow furrowing. ] You know when your head's underwater and you can't really hear right? It's kinda like that.

[ She shudders again, not able to suppress it. It makes her skin crawl. ]

It's just... really gross. [ She's quiet for a moment, considering. She's walking a fine like between thinking on it too hard and trying to work it out. Her gaze lifts a little to look at him. ]

I... guess it's like... he's happy that I can't move? Like... every time I have the dream, it's just the same thing.

[load_aim_shoot]

[The effort she puts into figuring out the answer is encouraging. She's disturbed, still shuddering, but it doesn't seem like the answers themselves are what's disturbing her. That's good, both for Raju and for the girl, trying to think through her dreams.]

And that's everything you remember? You can't move, there's a man saying something you can't hear, and he's happy? Can you see anything else? Where you are, or whether anyone else is there?

[If she can't he might have to start digging in his own memory, and hope he remembers enough to make a try at some kind of meaning that might help her. Unless he can think of something else. None of the different ways of interpreting dreams have ever been as interesting as he's been told they should be; what his dreams would tell him, usually, Raju already knows, and the waking world has always seemed like the one which needs the most of his attention. He tries, but just as often — more often — he avoids dreaming when he can. But saying so would hardly help.

Maybe some other school of thought on dreaming would be better. He might be able to remember a little Freud.]

[castitas]

It... feels dark. Or maybe it's just dark to me. I don't know. But... bright, maybe like... a hospital. [ That doesn't make sense. A place can't be dark and bright at the same time. It's either one of the other. But then... maybe that's just the dream itself. They're weird like that, they don't always make sense. Even the frightening ones.

She's shaking head to his questions. She can't see anything else, or where she is, or if someone's there. It's just the one voice talking to her. ]

That's it, that's all I can remember. [ She shakes her head again, she doesn't want to think on it too hard. Her hands go to her face, heels of her palms pressing to her eyes. She feels nauseous, and super gross. It's too much. She hates this. ] I.. I don't feel so good.

[load_aim_shoot]

[Raju's frowning at first — dark but bright doesn't make much sense, but dreams are sometimes that way, and he knows well enough not to interrupt — but then she keeps shaking her head, presses her hands against her eyes, and Raju's frown turns into surprised worry, eyes wider, mouth a little parted because he knows he should say something. A part of him is noting to the rest that if things were different, this would be the perfect time to push. But they aren't different, and he doesn't need to know any part of this, and huddled on the floor with her clutching a blanket around himself is very different from standing above in uniform, and that part of him is easy to push away.

But he isn't sure what else is in him to take its place. If she was a boy: maybe a strong clap on the shoulder, a firm smile, keep your chin up. Something like that. But Seetha is the only girl he's ever comforted this way, and two children who know one another as well as they know themselves is too different from this, now, for him to take any cues from it.

But he'd never asked Seetha to talk about it, had he? He'd already known what she would say. For all he doesn't need to push for anything here maybe he'd done it anyway, unthinking.]

I, ah...

[He stands, trying absently to tuck the ends of the blanket in a way that will keep it around his shoulders as he moves. He looks in this cabinet and that one, settles on a second's light grip on the girl's shoulder as he walks past to check the cabinets on her other side. Not that throwing up in a bowl meant for cooking would be good, exactly, but maybe less embarrassing for her than the floor.]

Do you need to be sick? If the lavatory is too far, I have a bowl here...

[He wasn't going to say anything else, had only meant to hand the bowl to her if she needs it. But he looks from his hands to her, to the obvious distress that, if he'd only been more gentle, maybe she could have been spared, and he finds the words trailing off.]

I shouldn't have asked about your dream. I'm sorry. I'm sure the last thing you wanted was to think about it any longer than you had to.