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

Ten years isn't all that long, not in the grand scheme of things.

[Evading an oncoming apocalypse and then fighting through the totality of his own mistakes made up for the duration of that time where his own long lifespan might not have otherwise. Time was a fleeting thing, a blink and you might miss something.]

Weird by your own qualifications.

[Much of the time Jack made more sense to him than he'd openly admit. It was a strange relationship, given that he didn't remember him exactly but he was starting to get a soft spot for him.]

He's a Nephilim. The child of an archangel and a human. I'm certain he's more powerful than I am or could ever hope to be.

[And then the ommision. Castiel would continue being uncomfortable with it, but it's a relief to have it out in the open. Between the two of them. He's not very good at pretending to be anything other than what he is.]

Yes. I'm a Seraph. I led my own garrison when we waged war on hell. Now, I'm not sure where I fall on the celestial ladder.

[ When he thinks about it, ten years really is nothing when you've been alive for God knows how long, as is the case with Cas here. And for humans too; he feels like he blinked and his whole life went by, a thing full of potential ruined by cruelty and malice, a fate written for him long before Dean had ever been born. ]

...Oh. Uh. That sounds concerning. [ He doesn't know what a Nephilim is but it doesn't sound particularly good. It sounds like something he'd be more inclined to hunt. ]

Angels really are real, huh? Never been a believer myself.

[It was concerning, but given the kid's disposition and his reverence for him, Castiel is convinced he's not a threat. He doesn't know much about him and has only just begun forming a relationship with him but his history is one of numerous nephilim slaughters. He's killed them on direct orders before, but leaving that bias behind has done him more good lately than bad. Questioning orders, and forming his own opinions, are all part of rebellion.]

We're as real as anything else. The only difference is that we were made on high. With my grace fully intact we wouldn't have to worry about anything here, but heaven as it stands is powered by angels, and being so far removed from our specific reality has my access to those abilities all but null.

[ He's having a lot of trouble believing Cas; he believes in what he can see, feel. Kill. But the angel thing is a hard swallow, especially when Cas looks like...

Well. Some kind of friggin' tax accountant. It's a tough pill to get down, and he still looks skeptical. ]

What's grace?

Grace is to me what blood is to you. My life's essence, the source of my power. If drained entirely of my grace I would be in most ways human.

[It's divine power, intrinsically wound into his DNA, making up all of what he is and all of what he ever will be. Castiel is familiar with his disbelief, he's seen it first hand, grappled with it. Dean wound up changing Castiel's mind more than he ever managed to influence his.]

I know you don't believe. It's fine, Dean, really. When we first met, you stabbed me in the heart.

Oh. So is that the situation you're saying you're in now? No grace?

[ Yeah Dean's having trouble with it, he can't help it. ]

...Yeah that kinda sounds like me. [ He settles back a little, idly moving hands and feet, savoring the heat on his limbs. ]

Why'd I do that?

Almost none. I still don't need to sleep, or eat, not unless I'm otherwise wounded or addled.

[This heat helps with that, soothes the cold that had seeped into every pore and nerve-ending of his vessel. Castiel slips lower into the water, and rests his head on the hard dirt behind him.]

Well, you didn't believe then. You thought I was a demon or some kind of monster. You and Bobby warded the barn and then summoned me, and Bobby shot me twice before I rendered him unconscious so that you and I could speak.

That feels like such a long time ago now.

Is that why you're always awake when I crawl outta stasis in the mornings?

[ Dean's ding dong is waving like a person on a parade float, just bobbing away in the water. ]

Ha! Bobby shot you? He's awesome. [ Dean's real dad, lets be real. ] Ought to go see him. It's been a while. [ He rolls his head to look properly at Cas. ] How long ago was it for you? How far are you into my future, McFly?

[Despite Dean's lack of modesty, Castiel can't bring himself to mention the fact that Dean's manhood has escaped the safety of the boxers he wore into the springs. He does his best not to look at it, and keeps his eyes literally anywhere else, which in this case is a spot just past Dean's ear, so as not to be rude.]

Almost six years from meeting you, for me. About nine for you, if I'm remembering correctly. We don't meet for another three years.

[ enjoy the view, Cas. he's a very virile young man. ]

Wow. So there's really no flying cars, huh? I'm so disappointed in the human race.

[ wiggle wiggle ding dong ]

What about Jurassic Park? Did we bioengineer dinosaurs yet?

As I said, no flying cars. No time travel, outside of what myself and the host have been capable of.

With regards to giant prehistoric creatures, your scientists have tried and continue to fail. It's no surprise the general consensus is to leave that era of time alone, especially considering that man has never met dinosaur, and shouldn't.

[Castiel's lips curve up at the ends, truly amused by his lack of care and concern. Not only with himself but of the future and what it might hold for him. It's refreshing in a sense, but also deeply concerning.

Castiel hesitates, and then shifts his back to where he's sitting beside Dean and not across from him so that the notion of looking is a less complicated thing to fight.]

To answer your other question. I can sleep like this but don't need to, and in idle moments it makes the most sense to prepare for the day ahead. So, that you and Jack don't have to exert as much energy.

You can time travel? Angels, I mean.

[ That's pretty cool, and while he wholeheartedly disagrees about dinosaurs, time traveling angels pulls his attention away from a potential argument in regards to Michael Crichton's timeless novel turned film turned pop culture phenomenon. ]

Does he sleep? He's all weird and shit too, isn't he?

Some of us better than others. For me, it can be exhaustive.

[Castiel's not sure what's more humbling about this younger and more foolish version of Dean. The fact that he has yet to suffer as he has, knowing full well the cross he bears for it, or the simple things - like his lack of tact and couthe. Both things Castiel himself had come to learn from Dean initially.]

He seems like an okay kid. I'm not sure whether or not he needs sleep. He told me it could go either way and offered to help me with my nightly routine.

But you can still do it. Cool.

[ He's still skeptical about the angel bit but there's some pretty concrete evidence that Cas, at the very least, isn't lying about knowing a future version of him. ]

I mean, if you actually told me stuff I could help you with night stuff. It's not like I sleep twelve hours. [ HE CAN HELP TOO GOD. ]

[Cool. Dean thought it was cool all of twice, and the first time wasn't enthused at all at the toll it took on Cas himself and on Dean once he made the trip.

Castiel slips further into the water and shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for the time being.]

I can't do it here, and even when I was at full power I struggled with it.

[The ghost of a smile finds his lips again, this time at Dean's eagerness to help.]

You're already helping with the renovations. This is one of the few things I can do myself to assist not only you but Jack as well.

[ He grunts, shifting in the water, moving a little closer over to Cas without really thinking about it. ]

Well, Dr. Brown, you still did it so it's awesome in my book. And what're you even doing at night, anyway? The coffee sure ain't ready when I get up, honey.

[The admonishment coupled with the word 'honey,' gets Castiel to crack open an eye and look at him from his meditative soak.]

I've been trying to source that for you, but coffee is hard to come by. I've been looking for a way to make some out of nuts, or mushrooms, something... I know how much you love your coffee.

Mushrooms?

[ He rolls his head to look at Cas and laughs, but it isn't moving. It's just...funny. Funny that Cas, this rando that Dean doesn't know from Moe Larry or Curly. ]

I do, but you don't gotta do that. I was teasing you.

Oh - I meant genuinely. I've been looking for it since you arrived.

[Dean liked his coffee the same way he liked to clean his weapon twice. One before bed and again the following morning. He liked to torque and rework all of his weaponry every other day it seemed. A soldier like any other that way.]

Oh, I-

[ He does; he thrives on caffeine to function, but. ]

I don't expect you to like, do stuff for me, you know. I'm sure there's some bark I can chew on or something. Don't waste your time on me. [ he doesn't deserve that. even now he knows he's undeserving. especially because of what cas is. a friggin angel trying to find him coffee? no, that's for someone more important. ]

It's not a waste, Dean. Even stuck in a place like this, I know how much help you're going to be to the people here. How important you are, even to a place like this one. If I can find something that brings you comfort in these temperatures and in this situation, it's anything but a waste of time.

[This time, unlike the rest Castiel holds his gaze, something long and lingering. He remembers Dean's self-hatred, his doubt, and he knows it's something he holds within himself but Castiel has never seen it and has never paid it any pittance.]

[ His purpose is helping people, saving them. Doing whatever he can. He's not used to someone doing something for him. ]

That's really nice of you, man. You don't have to.

[ Cas' gaze makes him squirm, and he looks down and realizes in horror that he's floating like a turd in a pool, and frantically shoves himself back where he belongs. ]

I know I don't have to, but you're the one who taught me what it means to be a friend.

[And that sometimes going out of the way for the people that you care about was a necessary action. A justified way to show someone that you care, and with their situation being what it was the least he could do was source a hot drink for Dean.

Castiel is somewhat grateful when he watches Dean scramble to hide himself away. It's hardly the first time he's seen the male anatomy but he does know that Dean wouldn't appreciate any lingering glances where his manhood was concerned. A small smile curves his lips, at the expense of Dean's pride. It's endearing how flustered he gets.]

[ Sounds wild, Dean teaching an angel to be a friend - though he's a lot more concerned about the fact he was totally free ballin' just now. ]

Sorry.

[ He's bright red and embarrassed, but he's pretty good about puffing up, blowing it off. ]

Guess I'm so big I just kinda escaped, there.

[His life went on to be nothing short of "wild," if educating an angel in emotions throws him for a loop. Castiel cracks a sheepish smile and raises his gaze to what spanned above, bits of sky and stone.]

I'm sure that's the cause and the buoyancy of the water has nothing to do with it.

nature offers a violence

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