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ph_memes2024-01-10 06:19 pm
TDM #4 - Aurora Borealis Blitz [FIRST EDITION]
[Find our plain text version here!]
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette
1/10/24 | TDM #4 - AURORA BOREALIS BLITZ"
Content Warnings: "Further Details" section has independent CW labels.
Forecast: Heavy snow
BREAKING! REBUILDING HELP REQUESTED
By Cecil Gershwin Palmer
A photo taken of the damage.
ACROSS PUMPKIN HOLLOW - City government is requesting aid with repairs to public buildings and local fixtures after the recent earthquakes on Tuesday, January 8th. While there was minimal damage to Town Hall itself, several important buildings sustained damage, including the Magpie National Bank, the South Train Station and the Clock Tower, which is now stuck with hands at 8pm.
Regarding the cause of the earthquake, local biologist Dr. Elias Coldwood was heard to say “There's never been seismic activity here.” And he’s a scientist, so he would know! But clearly this is no longer the case. Perhaps Pumpkin Hollow has a mysterious tiny civilization underground worshiping a destroyer god, planning to attack through the bowling alley, the moment we create a bowling alley. Perhaps not. More on this story as it unfolds, faithful readers.
In the meantime, volunteers to help with the damage to city buildings are invited to meet with Mayor Hellen Poe for assignments.
ANNUAL AURORA IN NORTHERN SKY
By Yorick Aberdeen
An artist's rendition of last year's view.
ABOVE MARROW ISLE - Midwinter is upon us! That means it’s the time of year when our skies light up with the technicolor gleam of the arctic north! Those looking northward between the hours of 10pm and 2am should be able to see beautiful curtains of bright green, blue, purple, and pink lighting up the sky above the island. If you plan to go outside to view the lights rather than looking from your window, please make sure you travel in a group and carry a lantern. May it be ever lit!
HOROSCOPES
By Cecil Gershwin Palmer
What do the stars say about you today?
Capricorn: Do you feel as if you’ve lost something? If not, it’s wise to double-check. Perhaps it’s not something like a button or a key, but your sense of wonder or your self-confidence. Remember, things tend to be in the last place you look.
Aquarius: Something about the year ending made you feel lighter, like taking off a heavy wool coat. Ride this burst of energy as far as it will take you, because the shiny of a fresh beginning tends to wear off quickly.
Pisces: Don’t worry, I don’t believe what everyone says behind your back. You’re not too sensitive or too naive. They’re just jealous. Really, most of the time when they’re whispering, it’s not even about you.
Aries: You’re the sort of warm individual that babies and animals are drawn to. Unfortunately, this may include hungry wolves and swarms of insects. But don’t let that bring you down! We need that sort of personality around here.
Taurus: There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be the best, until you work to stop others from also being the best. That’s called cheating and may lead to you being disqualified from competitions. If you get caught, that is.
Gemini: You know those riddles about the two guards, one who always tells the truth and one who always lies? Well, everyone hates those riddles with a passion. You’ll see for yourself, soon.
Cancer: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Leo: Your incandescent personality often makes you the center of attention. However, that’s not the only thing about you that glows. Moths may flock to you in the dark this week, and so might children afraid to sleep with the lights out.
Virgo: Be careful with your words–they aren’t just the precursors to your deeds, but the manifestation of your will. This is not a week for idioms and metaphors, not for you. Even something like bemoaning a lack of spoons may make eating cereal harder.
Libra: You are, inevitably, the first one heard to say a situation isn’t fair. And it’s not, nor will it ever be. Instead of getting upset, have you ever considered getting revenge? That’s usually more satisfying in the long run.
Scorpio: Ugh, Scorpios. The position of Venus means your usually volatile emotions will be in the doldrums instead. Enjoy this while it lasts I guess. Who knows if you’ll ever experience such peace again, given, well. You’re kind of an emotional mess and no one likes you.
Sagittarius: There will never be another day like today. You must strive to make the day everything you want it to be. No mistakes, now! Consider your choices very carefully. Consider your choice to consider, very carefully.
SUNFIRE'S HEARTH
By Yorick Aberdeen
A photo of Mayor Poe's cats, Toffee and Butter, enjoying the view.
ASSORTED LOCATIONS - As the coldest part of the year settles over our fair isle, it is time for Sunfire’s Hearth--- an informal celebration of bonfires and hearth flames, for those unfamiliar! For the months of January and February, a raised platform for bonfires will be lit on weekends, and restaurants and taverns across town will keep their fireplaces lit. Unlike many of our other festivities, there is no structured celebration--- simply make some time during this time to bask in the warmth of a fire! You can even celebrate at home.
An additional benefit of this time of year is that Merrymeet is well on its way. So take this time and get snuggly in front of a fire with your special person to get in the mood for romance! (Or they could be platonic snuggles. Whatever suits you best.)
LOCAL ALCHEMIST REPORTS MISSING POTION
By Yorick Aberdeen
Some of Mx. Sallek's usual stock. Could stand to have better labels./p>
LOCATION UNCERTAIN - Early Monday morning, local alchemist Aeryn Sallek reported that a large container of magical potion has been swapped with another, and it would seem that the mistaken jug has been sent out for delivery. According to Mx. Sallek, they sent a number of jugs out for delivery in a case with our local delivery extraordinaire, Sam Porter Bridges. The jugs were meant to contain a harmless, potable freeze-resistance potion for our town’s various water sources, in the interest of keeping water reserves drinkable in sub-freezing winter weather. However, when they returned to the shop, one of these potions remained on their counter while a love potion they’d been working on went missing.
“‘Love potion’ is kind of a misnomer, honestly,” Mx. Sallek is quoted to have said on the matter. “But ‘emotional acuity’ potion doesn’t quite roll off the tongue. Basically what it actually does is enhance existing romantic desire and embolden the user to be emotionally open. But Yorick should already know all this, since he’s the one who ordered it.” [Editing note: don’t forget to cut the last part of that comment before publishing. Cecil, you don’t need to include personal statements directed at reporters from these interviews!]
It’s unclear which area of town this particular potion ended up being injected into the water source, but according to Mx. Sallek, the potion was not particularly intense to begin with. It should be significantly diluted as to be harmless. Still, if you notice any strange symptoms such as butterflies in your stomach, a desire to burst into song, or inexplicable yearning, please file a report with the Safety Board at your earliest convenience.
FOOD SHORTAGES PUT STRAIN ON ISLAND ECONOMY
By Yorick Aberdeen
MARKET DISTRICT - While there are many things to celebrate this time of year, Marrow Isle is not without its adversity. Over these past months, many new members of our community have arrived by ferry after our numbers remained small and stagnant for many years. And the presence of our newfound neighbors has been a boon to all of us. Many artisans have opened useful businesses, medical professionals have expanded our access to healthcare, and a new fishing vessel has taken to the seas. However, despite a few additions, our farming community remains quite modest and planting was not planned with such incredible new growth in mind.
The unfortunate result of this is that food reserves on the island this year are uncharacteristically low. As such, Town Council has made the difficult decision to allow for the temporary inflation of food prices and the rationing of food staples.
“We understand the hardship this will place on the residents of Pumpkin Hollow,” said Mayor Poe in a statement after this decision was made. “But please know that we are all in this together. We hope to be able to offer a better incentive package for those interested in farming in the coming springtime.”
Page 1
Aurora
The dead of winter sheds all colors of the trees and flowers across Marrow Isle, but tonight, there are no stark whites and grays and browns.
Tonight, in the sky sprawling with stars above the dreary town, there are lights.
Sprawling trails of violet and green twist and wave through the sky, brightening the earth below and the sea beyond Jack's Marina in magical colors. The return of the borealis is something many Pumpkin Hollowites look forward to, and their reactions are very clear: people scurry down to the shores to watch with wide eyes, many retrieve telescopes, and some even borrow the decks of ships, abandoned for the night at the docks, to watch the sights.
It doesn't take long for this to change, however; the sea nor land are safe from the curse, and it's made quickly apparent that the sky is no exception.
At first, the sight seems like none more than an illusion, perhaps someone blinking and missing a strange shift of the lights. A glimmering outline forms around a cluster of stars, only slightly harder than any of the lines that define the aurora's rays. Several of these shapes form, each array of stars different from the last, some larger, some smaller.
And then, the stars begin to fall.
Seeming to peel off the painted sky, the ebbing colors surrounding the starlight drop, crashing to the world below. Some fall to the streets and beaches, while others fall into the forest, leaving view, or drop into the sea, leaving splashes and waves in their wake that ensure any watching knows full and well that this is not a trick of the light. At first, these shapes are unmoving, glowing masses of aurora-light with stars shining brightly within them. Most townsfolk are uneasy, but this seems to pale in severity to the other disasters, even if they lack any idea of what it could mean for them.
That is, of course, until the masses begin to move.
Each one is as varied as the constellation it stole from the sky: stars form suggestions of skeletal structures, and their "flesh", only consisting of swimming lights and liquid sky that steals any lights around them. Two identical glowing shapes rise to a face finally taking form, and slowly, moving more like gel than animal as it rises to freshly-formed legs, it settles on the closest living thing it can find.
There is no calculation in it, nor what seems to be a glimmer of thought.
It simply lunges with intent to kill.
Cecil’s disconcerting horoscopes have the following effects for the next few days:
Horoscopes
[CW: Altered emotional states ]
(Don’t know your character’s sign? Feel free to just decide on one!)
Unbeknownst to the townsfolk, the “love” potion ended up in the water supply of the Oak & Iron. As promised by Aeryn, it is thoroughly diluted, as its recipients believed it to be a normal freeze-resistance potion to be mixed with their water. The effects are not particularly intense. However, anyone who drinks any of the tavern’s housemade ale or cider, drinks the coffee, or eats any food that might require water to cook will experience symptoms of “emotional acuity”. This involves feeling more emotionally open, more receptive to positive feelings about others, a strong desire for physical or verbal affection, and the intensification of romantic or sexual attraction that you might already be experiencing. It will last about half a day. Just in time to help potentially land you a date for Merrymeet, a flower and fertility festival in early spring!Love Potion
[CW: Altered Emotional States ]
Food rationing and inflation will have the following impact: Grocery budgets for apped-in characters will be reduced in their efficacy.
Basic groceries will be only the most minimal of staples. You will likely go hungry if you do not find a way to supplement this.
Bountiful groceries will be reduced to the amount of food normally contained in basic.
Lavish groceries will not be available at all.
Your grocery choices from Activity Check are not able to be modified for this month unless otherwise stated. Bonuses and Discounts associated with the Farmer and Fisherman jobs are also reduced.
Level 1 bonuses will be reduced to standard, which is to say how they would function for a non-Farmer/Fisherman character during a normal, pre-famine month. (ex. Whereas normally a Level 1 Farmer would get free Basic groceries, they will now have to pay the 50 Brass, but do not have the efficacy of Basic groceries reduced as described above.)
Level 2 bonuses will be reduced to that of a Level 1 Farmer/Fisherman. (ex. Whereas a Level 2 Fisherman would normally be able to have Bountiful groceries discounted to 50 Brass, they now must pay full price for Bountiful groceries. However, they can still get Basic groceries for free and don’t suffer from the famine induced efficacy reduction for either budget.) Oak & Iron Residents will only be able to receive bland, repetitive meals with their food vouchers consisting of simple broth, plain bread, bland potato dishes, and the like. It is enough to be fed and comfortable but it is incredibly unsatisfying. (This includes all new characters that are not apped-in.) Drinks, however, are still plentiful. Characters who do not eat will find that their respective sources of fuel will be reduced to just barely enough to keep them functional, provided that they ration carefully. (Ex. Transformers may want to be less active. Vampires will find that victims cannot handle excessive blood loss without fainting and generally prefer to stay home.) Characters who were present to fight the Mother Crab back in late summer and chose to can some of their crab can use it now! Hunting, foraging, and fishing can help reduce the impact of these reductions, and people can share their food. You can absolutely die of starvation. After Merrymeet in February, food will return to normal.Famine
[CW: Starvation and food scarcity ]
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There's a massive whump of impact as something heavy hits the nearby snow, something that click-click-click-click-click-click-clicks with clockwork monotony. As if to prove the voice right, though, the rain of stars continues.
The woods shake with impact. In the glow of the too-near craters, Lev can see a mechical woman, nearly six feet tall, broad and one-handed; the other arm ends in a strange gun.
"That tool a weapon or a mobility aid - and do you get vertigo easily?"
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Lev looks up; if they were standing, they'd be a head taller than Vika, but notably frailer.
"It's my walking stick," they say, wearily. "Nu. Could be a weapon, if thou wert desperate. I'm not so desperate yet." They hang their head again. "If I got vertigo easily, would I walk? I'm two metres in my stockinged feet, Friend."
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She's APPROACHING -
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"I'd rather live than die," Lev says, flatly. "So nu, go ahead, Friend." They do tuck the walking-stick closer to their body so it doesn't get in the way.
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Those star-things are getting closer...
"They don't seem to quite know what to do with buildings," Vika comments. "So let's find you a roof."
Something in her wide-ass feet hisses, and she jets forward into a flying leap. Her feet make contact with a tree for the barest second, and she leaps from it to another, and another, and another -
She's really quite fast. And also quite cold, even through her cloak.
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Lev is too relieved to be getting away from the star-things (so like, and so unlike the very thing that Lev themself is) to really care about the fact Vika doesn't seem to be organic (eh, they've read about things like that, in rag novels and in the Talmud, and in their husband's medical reports) or about the flying (that is right now entirely academic). But ...
They are afraid of heights.
So they screw their eyes shut and in a moment of hysteria, through a lapse of trust they'd hoped would never have reason to face again, start reciting Viduy. There had been a time, a decade prior, when they'd memorised it—after they'd abandoned their family and their duties, before they'd abandoned their faith.
Now, granted, they went back for all of the things they'd discarded, and it was just their luck and the Infinite's mercy that all of it was still where they'd left it. But in that first year, most of it sunk beyond conscious memory, veiled by the ghost of their first acute psychotic episode, it had not felt like that.
It's the night. It's the night, and the stars and the metal woman, who may be anything at all, but given the fact she's flying, is either some kind of bizarre and novel genius loci—of an airfield, maybe?—or just one of the lilit with funny aesthetic ideals. It's overwhelming.
"Just please don't drop me," they manage to mutter, once they're done with approximately two-thirds of Viduy. "I ... I recall not, what I ought recite next— and it's not time for the three-fold dedication. I hope."
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The edge of the woods presents a problem; Vika hits a final tree and slides down it, her feet giving both purchase and give. When she hits the ground she looks around and realizes, well shit, these things are everywhere.
Who turned on the difficulty modifiers?She sprints forward, weapon arm coming up to fire shots at the legs of star-things that are A. in the way or B. might possibly in any universe put themselves in the way. Every shot makes her body colder, even through the cloak.
Oh, right. The mammals need communication. "My name is Vika, extruded organic being. Yours?"
(Wait, is keeping them talking the thing you do for someone in shock or in an emergency? Damn it. She'll have to ask Freeman or Bart. Again.)
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"There's no need to you me, feh," says Lev. "Thou will do, nu, just fine?" They cling fast to Vika. "Uhm. I'm ..." they pause, and then decide that they'll have to do this the blunt and crude way. "Nu, were I to talk about thee to others, how should I refer to thee besides 'Vika' or 'the golem with the gun'?" They pause again, consider the situation and sigh, heavily. "But until thou hast had a chance to answer that, thou may call me Lev."
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This also gives her some time to mentally translate. As powerful as her computer mind is she's not exactly a rogue missile defense system here. Once they're both on the roof she sets her passenger down with great delicacy.
Her head turns. Those things are still coming, what a fucking stick in the gears. She turns, charging her weapon; a blue-white force, swirling like snow, forms at the end of her gun arm. "If you're asking what I think you're asking, I'm a woman and I'll pay you good money if you can help me figure out why. My fathers fucked up a perfectly good robot is what they did. You? I was off on some wild shit that evidently has nothing to do with mammalian gender, the bookbinder had to correct me. Poor bastard."
She fires.
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Lyubov looks away from where Vika's shooting, and what she's shooting at and tries to figure out how to explain a word as simple as "thou".
"Uh, 'thou' is what one says when talking to someone who's neither no stranger, nor no foe, instead of 'you', nu? And I could ask thee, what's a robot, besides thee? Like, there's this play, nu, about artificial people made in factories, solely to have their labour extracted, these metaphors for the condition of the workers under the yoke of Capital, they're called robots. But thou! Thou look'st, and I truly mean no offense, I mean it in like, the other sense, thou look'st the very image of a golem."
She sits down on the roof, legs folded. "If thou'rt a woman what was made a woman, not necessarily born such, to thee, I'm a woman such as thee. But like, I think I'll need to explain that, so nu. Thine turn, firstly." She smiles encouragingly.
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"...That play is right. Robot, from robota, forced labor." She fires, sending her arm snapping back; it 'steams' in the air, so cold is the blast. "Smart enough to do complex tasks, metal enough to be owned like a fucking broom."
Is there...no, the beasts are seeking easier prey. Vika turns to Lyubov, lowering her weapon. "Or my descendants will be. I'm just the prototype. My fathers' first child, the rotten bastards, and I can't for the fucking life of me figure out why they bothered to install a gender when I was intended to live and die in their lab."
"I'm guessing yours is less irritating, gender wise."
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"Labour in general," Lyubov corrects, almost on autopilot. "But all labour is forced, unless the workers benefit directly from what they're producing, nu?" She pauses, and then adds, "so, thou'rt a golem." There's conviction in her voice. A conviction that is entirely absent when she broaches Vika's question.
"I'm a woman in some circumstances," she says, and starts fidgeting with the hem of her coat. "Nu. Not at shul, not these days. And never a woman to some. Not to mine husband, for one. But to some, always a woman, even when I'm not to someone else standing beside them. It's uh. Like. It's about the relationship."
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And warning you that she's going to be (more) insulting later but welcome to Vika bby.
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"Well, thou'rt a golem," says Lev, uncertainly. "Alive, but nu. Made, not born nor hatched. And what I'd like to be called by thee depends on what thou prefer'st in turn." They're not getting annoyed yet, but Vika's reticence in this matter is certainly fouling up their usual scripts.
"So tell me," they say, looking at Vika very seriously. "Dost thou like being a woman?"
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She seems to mislike the question, preferring to stare back out over the battle happening below. Her gears click in a steady rhythm.
"Saying I like much of anything is a bit fuckin' much," Vika answers at last. She's. So quiet. "But it doesn't feel like a defective element. It's mystifying, and I don't like being mystified so it's annoying, but when I got presented with the option to be something else that didn't sound like the shot I wanted to call. Wish I could make more sense for you."
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"Well, in that case," says Lyubov, "to thee, I'm Lyubov, and thou may'st refer to me as though I'm a woman. For the purposes of mine interactions with thee, I am. And never pay no mind to what another may call me, as other people aren't thee. And nu, the robot part makes no difference by me. One of the men what taught me Torah when I was just past bar mitzvah age is a golem, after all."
Well. It's maybe more complicated, with Shlomovitsh. But too complicated to get into the details right away, and not so complicated as to make a meaningful difference.
But now that she's thinking of Shlomovitsh, she's thinking of other things she associates with the old man, and thus, "and I live with a tiger. Well, the golem, too. But the tiger is his lifelong companion."
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Vika doesn't believe it. The doubt is in her voice. But she badly, so very badly, wants to.
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"Er, what?" says Lyubov, staring at Vika like the other woman's just suggested something abominable. "What, like, by thee, do they also eat infants and push elders off of cliffs? To merit making a person from dust and the fire of words, for such a skill a true scholar and sage must labour for years. Like, truly, pardon my Arcadian, but why the fuck would someone bother to make a golem only to act like it's not a person?" She wrings her hands, and stomps her foot in distress, as if trying to ground the nervous energy filling her. "To say one made is worse than one born ... I mean like, the Adam was made of dust, too!"
She stares at Vika, slowly, by degrees becoming aware that it is perhaps unhelpful if she's so distressed at an injustice that affects her not, but has apparently totally fucked over Vika's life, an injustice that Vika hasn't exactly condoned, to boot.
"I beg thy pardon," she murmurs, ducking her head in sudden shame. "But one must not mistreat animals, never mind people. And people created deliberately are surely people, nu?"
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"Ah," says Lyubov, flatly. "Thou'rt a kantonistka. Oy, shreyk." She pulls at her face, as if tugging at the beard she never managed to grow. "I ken, now."
She pauses, and says, "hearing mine own history with such things, would'st thou be like, comforted or belittled?"
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