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

[brutalact]

[between himself and his brother, knives was not as attuned to friendly conversation as vash was. when other interlopers wandered nearby the church and its graveyard, he was content to simply watch from a window or even simply ignore them. over the last month or so, he'd taken stock of who else had been brought here against their will and none so far seemed like the type to strike for a chance to better their own survival.

he could be proven wrong, of course.]

That's right. [tucking the moleskin into his coat pocket, he steps closer while still keeping some measure of distance between himself and this stranger.] It isn't an ideal solution, but with the glass as thin as it is there aren't many options.

[he could pin blankets up over the windows, but that would take away from the blankets they would need to use at night to keep warm.]

Are you looking for shelter?

[fidior]

It's good work, [ Edward says, sincerely, giving another nod towards the window. He's pleased to see others take initiative, and especially to help board up buildings that otherwise may have gone forgotten. ] If you need more wood, I've been stocking plenty.

[ He may have been preparing it ever since he arrived here... perpetually worried of an incident just like what's now looming. A storm, a snow-in. The worst outcomes of the cold, but he knows them too well. He remembers losing men in those types of storms. They fell down quickly — so quickly it didn't seem real. It doesn't take much for a human body to break down. ]

Ah— I'll be in the Community Center through it. [ The lieutenant adjusts his gun against his shoulder, more comfortably. ] And yourself, sir? Are you planning to join us there?

[brutalact]

Thank you. [remembering his manners, the offer tempting. he expected if he were to take up the offered wood, he would have to provide something in return. in an environment where survival depended on the survivor first and foremost, there was an importance to proving one's worth. knives felt confident he could provide well enough for his brothers, but...

his luck always ran short and always at the worst time. knives' gaze moves over to the half-boarded windows, considering before refocusing on the stranger.] Once this passes, I will return the wood to you. [when the sun decided to show itself, the stained glass cast the chapel in diluted colors. he had caught vash admiring the kaleidoscope displays during midmornings a few times now. if he kept the windows boarded permanently his brother would be disappointed. probably.]

No. My brothers and I are staying here for the storm. [safer, much safer, than being around others - humans - afraid and cramped together for however long this would come to stay.] Are you familiar with this type of weather?

[fidior]

[ Edward offers a smile — small and controlled, polite, but there's a genuine warmth to it, perhaps seen more in the browns of his eyes. He's pleased to assist, and for his assistance to be accepted. ]

No need to worry yourself over returning it — please feel free to keep it after. For firewood, once it dries again.

[ And assuming it survives the storm, but.... Edward is trying to hope for the best. But his brows are lifting as the man tells him that he'll be staying in the church through it, along with his brothers. It's a worrisome thought, one he'll return to, but for the moment his expression sobers, mouth forming a somewhat grim line. ]

Before this, the ship I was serving aboard became trapped in the ice. We were there for nearly three years. [ ...And we all died there, he thinks, but does not say. ] The cold was much like this, and sometimes there were storms.

And yourself, sir?

[brutalact]

If you insist. [he hums out. knives knows well enough not to turn away valuable resources here. with two idiots, self-sacrificial to their own detriment, to look after here knives will set aside his pride for that. he chooses not to think about how not so long ago the very idea of such things would have been unthinkable. laughable, even, if not something that would have sent him into a rage.

it's better if he doesn't think about it at all.]

What sort of ship? [his curiosity piqued; despite his cultivated hatred for humanity over his long lifespan, knives had started out as a child with a voracious hunger for history and science. the texts they had to study from about earth and its own histories were numerous, but there was never enough for him to cut his teeth on. every human here seemed to be their own walking history book he was just a little keen to flip through.] Seafaring is a dangerous game. I can only imagine what you have experienced. [👀

knives' gaze looks away, out towards the direction of the town. the sun is still out, but the winds whisper of the oncoming storm as they bite into his cheeks.]

The planet we came from is a desert wasteland. Heat and sands and worms of varying sizes and lethality. Our ancestors hailed from Earth originally, until its decimation at the hands of parasites.

[fidior]

A naval vessel — once used for war, but in my service, for exploration and advancement. [ There's a pause of reflection, a soft fluttering thing beneath his breast. Warm, and aching at the same time. The ship's reconstruction after her wartimes put her at the height of scientific advancement. She was a strong, confident, proud vessel, and he was proud to serve aboard her. It is... a strange loss, to know he will likely never see the HMS Terror again. that he serves aboard no ship, now. ]

She is called Terror.

[ As to the dangerous things he may have experience — ah. There is much he could share, perhaps... should share, in order to be able to adequately protect the people here. He's known what the cold can do to a body. Known what mankind can do to each other when reduced to desperation. He tries to be cautious with what he reveals, but.... listening to this man now, something in him become snagged, attention freshly caught. A desert wasteland...... that's not the first time he's heard someone speak of coming from such a world. ("Worms of varying sizes and lethality" is pretty horrifying, and Edward's eyes are widening a bit, clearly unnerved.) ]

You mean— you are not from Earth? [ Now that's a shock he didn't expect; this is a first. Little tries to regain some of his composure, running a hand down his face, eyes still wide. ]

Your brothers.... is one of them prone to wearing a red coat? And he has black hair?

[brutalact]

The Terror. [fondness bleeds its way into edward's voice as he speaks of his home - a ship, exploration and advancement, such a description rings near nostalgic to knives. the oceans that had once covered earth had been vast and dark, filled with the terrifying unknown and yet such potential horrors had drawn those too curious like moths to a flame. memories of flickering through old texts converted to computer texts and pixelated images, the faces of humans centuries before his time fuzzy and near unrecognizable after so much time had passed. once upon a time knives had been fascinated by humans and their tenacity, their hunger for the unknown.

knives looks away from edward, gaze cast up towards the overcast skies. beyond the clouds, beyond the atmosphere lay a different sea. just as vast and dark and terrifying with its limitless unknowns.]

Of course you've met him. Vash - [he huffs through his nose, arms crossing over his chest.] We are twins. There is another here, only blonde and just as foolish.

[his gaze falls back to the poor man, noting his mild distress with an unwavering expression.]

No. We were born on a ship traveling through space, in search of another planet to colonize. A year after our birth, we crashed onto a planet unbefitting for human life. Sands, worms, and the unbearable heat of two suns. [it is the truth, yet with particular details omitted. the truth, the real truth, was ugly and vicious. vash would probably care a great deal if knives openly admitted to crashing those ships himself, sending millions to their immediate deaths and dooming thousands more to a life on a barren planet.]

[fidior]

[ Oh — twins. Edward's brows lift at that, but the rest of what the man says is baffling, staggers him for a moment as he tries to process exactly what it means. ]

There is another..... of your brother? Mr. Vash?

[ That's what this man just said, pretty directly, but it isn't something that makes sense on the surface level. And yet after all he's known and seen in this strange place, Edward's learned that logic isn't always applicable, or at least the logic he'd known. This place allows ghosts to walk and whisper. Who is to say that other strange things can't exist, here?

Especially when it's clear that this man's circumstances were wildly different to anything Edward could ever have known. A ship.... in space. Searching for another planet. (Well, he at least understands the concept of colonising....) ]

You were living on such a planet since your infancy....? [ 'a year after our birth' — it's... a horrific thought. ] How on earth did you manage to survive?