prelude

[singmod]

January 1st 2015

Do you remember yesterday? What is tomorrow?
How will you face this quiet apocalypse?
— Raphael van Lierop.

As the old year falls and the new year begins, the skies fill with light. An Aurora comes on the last day of December, and with it the usual signs of it: the ethereal noise, the cracks and pops in the air, the stuttering of electrics as they struggle to power on and then blare and flicker. It is, as Interlopers have come to know, business as usual — in terms of the Auroras within this world. However, something a little different happens this time.

Interlopers will fall asleep all over the town of Milton. Even the ones who fight sleep and try to stay up into the small hours of the night will find themselves drifting off for a short while — as if their eyes just feel too heavy to keep open, and their minds slip into a deep kind of quiet darkness without their realising. And at first, there is nothing — nothing but the quiet dark. Something peaceful, almost.

A dream comes.

The first thing you notice is blood in your mouth, the cold in your bones, the deafening din in your ears — as if you are caught in static and the sound of howling winds through pine trees. You are afraid. At first, you do not know why. You find yourself on your knees in the snow. The skies are filled with green light, the air is thick with smoke. And then the realisation comes:

This is the ending of all things.

You look up, to the sight before you: a huge, shapeless shadow. Towering above you, over you. A head peers down at you: a cluster of three wolf skulls, eye-sockets glowing green and terrible, and their three open maws, dripping with more green. The sound it makes is unnatural, you cannot put it into words. The darkness draws in, you are so cold, so tired.

This is the ending of all things.

It is so hungry. You are so tired. The world falls away, you cannot see the stars, the dark hiding them from view. Were they even there to begin with? Or did they go out? You have forgotten. And you know, you know—

This is the ending of all things.

The skies glimmer, licks of strange, colourful wisps curl above — a voice screams out your name, from the static and winds. Through the noise. A woman’s voice. You have heard this voice before, in the lights and noise. Do you see? What could be? What you could become?

Can you hold on? Please. A hand grips your shoulder, but as you turn — the dream ends.

For some, they snap into waking with a shout or cry. Some will shudder awake to find tears in their eyes. All over Milton, the Interlopers wake: shaken, unsure, afraid. They will awaken to the dark: the Aurora is gone — slowly fading from the night skies into an otherwise calm and clear night.

It is a new year.

Comments

Fraser | OTA

[maintiensledroit]

[ Sleep came on him so suddenly that he didn't have time to bank the small fire he'd built to keep off the worst of the chill. It had crumbled slowly into glowing coals as he and Diefenbaker slept -- and dreamt -- and when he awakens with a start, he can see through the gloss of tears in his eyes the dark pile of ashes, now wet with snow.

The lean-to he'd pitched isn't warm, but it keeps the snow off his clothes and the wind off his back, and when Fraser rolls up to sitting, the faint tremble in his limbs is less from the frigid weather than the fear that grips him. Still, he takes his time in re-building his small fire, here in the hazy half-dawn of the far North, and when the flame is licking at the kindling, he reaches into his pack, draws out a dog-eared leather journal, then thumbs to a certain passage.

( That night in my cabin, I lay there and thought about fear and what it does to a man...
how it eats his insides out and takes the best from him. )

He can almost hear his father's voice speaking the words aloud. And when he finishes, he sets a pot of coffee on the fire, takes a deep breath, and finds a smile for the person who has come his way. ]

I always find a hot cup of coffee can help after a long night. Would you like some?

for castitas

[maintiensledroit]

[ The sun is fully up, creeping along the horizon line, when Fraser presents himself at the Community Hall, holding a cloth pillowcase filled with some soft material, Diefenbaker heeled nicely at his side. He'd debated leaving the wolf at the lean-to or sending him out to hunt, but finally decided it might be best to simply rip the bandage off, so to speak. ]

Now, remember.

[ This spoken down to the wolf, who glances up at him. ]

People might be a little nervous about you. Try not to take it personally. Once you show them you can be trusted, I'm sure they'll warm right up.

[ Diefenbaker blinks back at him, which Fraser takes as agreement. He takes off his hat, smooths his hand down the front of his uniform, and comes into the Community Hall with Dief trotting at his side, smiling at everyone who meets his glance. ]

Hello. Good morning. Ah, excuse me. Could any of you perhaps direct me to a Kate Marsh?

[castitas]

[ Kate's sat at one of the tables in the Community Hall, half asleep. She's at least gotten dressed by the time morning comes, but she hasn't managed to go back to sleep following the dream and still looks a little disheveled as she sits half-slumped over pages of drawings.

She's done a couple more copies of the monster she'd drawn when she'd first woken up, a little less hurried now she's not trying to frantically remember the details. She taps her pen tiredly against the paper: Could any of you perhaps direct me to a Kate Marsh?

Kate lifts her head, peering round with a sort of sleepy confusion, her eyes widening a little — oh. One hand raises slowly into the air until the flash of some light-coloured fur drawing near catches her eye and she balks of the sight of an actual wolf coming up to her. There's a soft sound of surprise mixed with fear as she scrambles out of the chair and onto her feet, backing away.

She remembers the wolves that came to town, remembers the wounded being brought into the Hall. The wolves with glowing eyes. The ones that killed Interlopers. ]

[maintiensledroit]

It's alright, it's alright –

[ He holds out one hand toward her, palm out, placating, his blue eyes steady and earnest as he watches her. The other hand he holds over Diefenbaker, before he says: ] Dief, down.

[ The wolf glances up at him, then settles himself down on his belly, tail wagging like a flag blown in a gentle breeze. Fraser chances a look down, sees that Dief has obeyed, and looks back at the girl with a smile infused with as much warmth and comfort as he can put into it. ]

This is Diefenbaker. He won't hurt you, I promise. I heard about the trouble you've had with wolves, but Dief isn't like them. I swear, he'll never let a single person in this community come to harm if he can stop it. He's been my companion for many years.

[ He pitches his voice low, soothing. Neither he nor Dief make any move to come closer; both instead watching the girl to gauge her response. ]

He saved my life when we first met, and many times since then. It's alright.

[castitas]

[ She hunched up, curled in on herself, arms up to her middle as if to protect herself. Rather a bite to the arm than anywhere else. But what she expects to happen doesn't and she's left with wide eyes staring in a brief moment of disbelief as the wolf lies down before she actually believes what she's seeing.

Wow. ... Wolves don't tend to really... obey commands like that?

It's enough to immediately curb the outright fright down to nervousness and she's left staring, eyes flickering between the man and the wolf. This is... kind of surreal, in a way. It's been a long night, she's tired. Dreaming of monsters with wolf skulls doesn't help. ]

People died. [ She says softly, mournful as she nods. ] Two men and a lady, back... back when the wolves came.

[ And it continues to surprise her more. A companion. A wolf that saved his life, and she blinks. ]

He's... he's like a pet—? He listens to you, you told him to stay and he did.

[maintiensledroit]

He's my friend.

[ This may not be the time to tell her that Diefenbaker is mostly deaf, but perhaps it isn't important. After all, the wolf is obeying, lying quietly on the neatly swept floor. At the girl's words, his tail thumps against the wooden floorboards, just as any friendly dog's might. Fraser has no doubt he understands what the girl is saying – Dief's gaze is fixed on her face. Small wonder: she's blonde.

He sighs a little, internally, and turns his attention back to the girl, offering her a comforting nod, his voice still pitched low. ]

I heard. I'm very sorry about the people who were lost. All I can promise you is that Diefenbaker would have fought those wolves and tried to save those people.

[ Slowly, he drops to a knee beside Diefenbaker, then runs his hand over the wolf's head. The thwacking of the tail intensifies. ]

You see? Nothing to fear.

[lanfeared]

[ It has been some time since Lanfear encountered the need for sleep — if she closes her eyes, it is with the expectation of entering Tel'aran'rhiod, the realm of dreams, a realm that she is more than capable of manipulating and bending to her will. But there is no Tel'aran'rhiod here, no One Power for her to reach for and channel, and when she is pulled under into sleep, it's something that she is helpless to fight.

When she finally shudders into waking, it has little to do with the chill, although she reflexively draws her cloak a bit more decisively around herself before she starts walking, letting the winter's sting on her cheeks chase the remnants of that dream away.

The glow of a fire is ultimately what draws her close, and by then, Lanfear has lost sight of how long she's walked, but the glimpse of a smile prompts her to linger, to approach with cheeks and the tip of her nose slightly pinkened from the cold. ]

A long night, or a strange one?

[ It's her way of inquiring whether he'd been awoken by the same thing she'd been witness to, as her gaze flickers over his features, feigning a subtle wariness. Most women wouldn't approach a lone man they've never met before without some level of trepidation, even if Lanfear isn't most women. ]

[maintiensledroit]

Ah –

[ For a long moment, he doesn't reply; he can't. Not when a vision from his past is walking towards him, surrounded, as she always is in his memory, with swirling snow. Snatches of poetry flit through his mind –

( I caught this morning morning's minion )

– but the voice is wrong. The accent. She's too tall, he notes; her hair too straight. In the next moment, the uncanniness of the resemblance mellows and she is just a lovely dark-haired woman, walking alone in the snow. ]

– Both, I think.

[ Admitted as he gets to his feet. In another moment, he's reaching for a corner of a plaid blanket which had served as bedroll the night before and shaking it out before offering it out to her. ]

Here, please. It's cold.

[lanfeared]

Mm.

[ She hums softly, wordlessly; he’s told her what she really needs to know without either of them offering further details, but she also won’t ask about what he thinks about what they were made to see. There’s enough that she doesn’t understand yet, but she’s also not focusing her efforts on finding the answers. Right now, she’s mostly concentrating on what she can do to earn her power back.

But in the meantime, the man is rising, and Lanfear’s gaze rises with it; she’s not foolish enough to deny help where it’s being given, and in this instance rather literally. ]

You seem to have made yourself adequate protection against it.

[ Said as she stretches out a pale hand to retrieve the blanket from him, and then proceeds to drape it over her shoulders, gathering the sides together in front until she’s definitively bundled. ]

Between the fire, and… you’re not the first one here to prefer coffee, it seems. [ A small smile, as she thinks back to her initial arrival here. ] How many ills does it really cure?

[maintiensledroit]

[ Once she has the blanket tucked securely around her shoulders – and only then – Fraser kneels to add a few more pieces of wood to the fire, building it up far past his own meagre needs. ]

Oh, well... I'm used to it. You see, I'm from a place very like this one...

[ His words fall off as he looks up, a little abashed. No one in Chicago cares to hear all that much about his time in the Yukon, and he's well aware he sometimes comes off as... well, a little ridiculous, to those who are used to softer climates.

Fortunately, she asks a different question – and makes a new observation – and he can feel the tips of his ears turning very slightly pink with embarrassment. ]

Only cold and tiredness, I'm afraid. If you'd prefer something else, I could make you a little spruce tea. It's full of vitamins, and it would be something hot to drink.

[lanfeared]

[ Whether he’s surprised to have admitted as much to her or is more accustomed to being dismissed, she’s not sure — but Lanfear also knows the value inherent in letting someone have an open ear, in making herself appear to be the sort of person who is willing to listen to him when few others would bear the same. ]

Are you? So you have an even greater sense of how best to keep warm.

[ It’s an opening, for him to tell her more about where he comes from — in part because she’s already deduced that there are people here from other realms, but also because, in knowing more about those worlds, she might be able to determine why they’ve all been brought here.

She shifts forward, a bit closer to the fire as he builds it higher, the blanket still swaddled around her frame. ]

The coffee should suffice. And certainly be strong enough to keep me from drifting towards more… strange dreams, yes?

[solitarysoul]

[He could only clean his gun so many times before his thoughts started to intrude on the actions. So later in the night--earlier in the morning, he decides to head out on patrol. Maybe that would help...or maybe he'd find something he'd been dreading since the dream.

Instead he finds a lean-to with a fire in it. He's glad to see someone's at the fire, though it surprises him some to.]

U-uh...

[Give him a sec.]

Um, n-no...unless you have more than enough?

[Coffee would at least be hot, but he doesn't want to take this guy's last drop.]

[maintiensledroit]

There's plenty. Please.

[ Fraser gestures at a blanket near the fire, tucked within the lee of the lean-to and free of snow. ]

You know, I don't think I caught your name, before. [ Spoken as he pours a tin cup full of steaming hot black coffee. He hands it to the young man with a smile. ]

My name is Benton. Benton Fraser. I'm a Constable with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

[ Just in case that means literally anything to him. ]

[solitarysoul]

All...alright, then.

[He takes a seat and the coffee.]

Oh, sorry. I'm Levi.

[It doesn't really mean anything to him, but it does raise a question.]

You're from Canada...is the whole place like this?

[maintiensledroit]

It's very nice to meet you, Levi.

[ Fraser tops off his own tin cup of coffee and holds it in his hands a moment, absorbing the warmth. ]

Ah... no. No, it isn't. Canada is a very large place, and the environment varies a great deal depending on where you are.

[ A beat. ] Admittedly, I happen to be from a place in Canada very like this one.

[solitarysoul]

[He nods, that made sense. Some countries were small, but he knew some could be pretty big. Even the small ones had areas that were different from each other.]

So you're used to cold like this?

[He takes a careful sip of the coffee.]

[notarat]

[ .. the people in this town are surprisingly helpful, aren't they. It's not the first time Billy has thought as much, and though it's still a little odd, he's growing just a touch more used to it. Just enough that he manages to not give the other man any weird looks when the offer is extended to him after Billy runs into him and his fire.

And-- really, after the night he's had? He's not exactly going to turn down any offers, so Billy's head dips into a nod, despite the other being a stranger. ]

If you don't mind sharing. [ He doesn't bring up the dream. Not yet, anyway. It's still lingering in Billy's mind, clinging to him like an anxious shadow, but he feels like ignoring it might actually make it go away faster. ] I know resources are limited here.

[maintiensledroit]

Not at all. We won't get far without sharing what we have, will we?

[ Not as a group, anyway. One man could live reasonably comfortably off what he might find, hunt, or trap here, but a town of some several dozen souls is another equation entirely.

Fraser retrieves a tin mess kit cup and pours some of the steaming coffee, then hands it over to the newcomer with a small smile. ]

Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. And this is Diefenbaker.

[ This being what might at first glance look like a pile of white furs in the lean-to. It stretches and shakes itself out, then opens a fang-lined mouth in a wide red yawn. A wolf, which settles back down again and seems to simply go back to sleep. ]

[notarat]

[ Is that--

Is that an actual wolf.

Billy blinks a few times as he's staring at Diefenbaker. He may not be a wildlife expert - far from it, really - but he is pretty sure that is a wolf right there. Are people just bringing entire zoos into town now? Is it a constable thing? The other seems calm about it, so Billy assumes this is just normal to him, but Billy himself has certainly had several culture shocks ever since arriving here.

Even if you wouldn't be able to tell that a whole lot, considering he's actually doing a pretty good job of keeping his facial expression relatively passive right now. ]

Constable Fraser. [ He repeats, always careful enough when using people's titles.

Especially when they're giving him a free drink. Billy will take it, despite what he said a moment ago, holding both of his hands around the cup as if trying to warm them that way. ]

My name is William Gibson. [ It only seems fair to trade in return, even if he has no fancy titles whatsoever to throw around. And even more so when he'd love to keep himself far from his work back home, considering the most recent events when it comes to that.. ] Thank you for sharing.

[maintiensledroit]

It's very nice to meet you, William.

[ The other man seems almost skittish, but that's only to be expected from someone unused to this particular environment. And Fraser himself is still on edge from that dream... that nightmare. ]

And I'm happy to share. I have plenty, but even if I didn't, the company would make it more than worthwhile.

[ His smile is mild, warm. Kind. ]

You're out and about early, aren't you? Were you going somewhere in particular?

[notarat]

[ He slowly shakes his head, hands still clutched around the warm mug. ]

No particular place. [ Billy admits, honestly. ] I just wanted to see what other people had to say about that strange dream.

[ Because he has at least found out that it was a collective thing - one of the many benefits of waking up next to someone in bed, Billy has found. But since he was bound to only get one very specific perspective on it from Hickey, he's been determined to find out more by actually going out into town, seeing what other people are talking about it. ]

You have seen it as well, haven't you?

[moralabsolutism]

[Rorschach looked over at the man when he was addressed with a quick upwards snap of his head. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his trenchcoat and his shoulders were a little hunched as if he'd been deep in thought when he'd heard Fraser. He'd been mulling over the dreams that had been burned into his brain for the better part of the night.

It was now closer to dawn (or whatever passed for dawn in this eternal dim winter twilight) than it was to when he first woke up. Normally, he would have turned down the offer, but right now hot coffee sounded like the best thing in the world. And hey, he already had sugar cubes available for it right there in his pocket!

The man with the strange black-and-white mask stopped and came over to where Fraser was at. He hadn't said a single word. Instead, the black splotches on his face moved slowly, often dividing into patterns that just as soon dissolved into others.]

[maintiensledroit]

[ Now, this is something he hadn't expected to see.

The man's (?) face had been concealed by shadow, by the brim of his hat and the collar of his coat, and Fraser's eyebrows hit his hairline when the other turns his head to look over. That's an extremely unusual mask... it reminds him of ink splotches. What mechanic keeps the dark patches moving? And why is he wearing it?

Well, possibly as a way to mitigate the cold. Fraser smiles up at the newcomer, offering out a tin cup full of hot black coffee. ]

I'm sorry not to be able to offer you any cream or sugar.

[moralabsolutism]

Brought my own.

[And indeed Rorschach pulled out a few individually wrapped sugar cubes from one of his pockets as if it was a magic trick, like he just could find anything in there that he needed at a moment's notice.

He took the cup of coffee and plunked three sugar cubes in. Rorschach had a bit of a sweet tooth at all times. He offered the fourth one he still had to his gracious host, warily eyeing the dog(?) that he had with him. That was a very big dog to be close to, especially to someone who disliked dogs as much as Rorschach did.]

[maintiensledroit]

Oh, no, thank you kindly –

[ Is what he'd started to say, before Diefenbaker lifted his head, sniffing at the air, and pushed up onto his feet so as to come close enough to try and lick the sugar cube away from their visitor's fingers. ]

Diefenbaker! I'm terribly sorry, he seems to have developed quite a fixation on junk food. Dief!

[ Although the Mountie's voice raps out sharply, the wolf ignores it, still sniffing after the sugar. His tail wags, pleased. ]