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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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"Eh? Nu—"
Your bad luck, Jean, you're dealing with a Dead Chassid who's stood on barricades defending the immortal science of Reb Marx and the autonomy of the Talons Commune, and in the service of that they've faced up to an usurping idol who'd claimed to be equivalent to the One, True Infinite One that Lev devotes all their heart and all their soul and all their being.
... which is to say, the idea of religious as separate from political as separate from philosophical as separate from legal as fully and clearly separate from doing one's laundry and eating breakfast is completely foreign to Lev. You ever see someone who looks mostly human give you the kind of look a confused parrot might? Well, that's the look Lev's modelling. Especially when this ... person, who's not a lovek by how they feel, but who's got the bauplan, is insisting on calling them "Comrade". What gives.
"Well, Friend, isn't everything, nu? Religious, I mean. Ultimately."
They decide to go with the other translation of khaver, the one that to them feels more honest to the intent of the term.
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They take a hand from their pocket, and it is clad in a steel-bound claw that looks just like the one on the spectral wolf. Jean pats its head slowly, and it growls, then stills, and finally fades away.
That glove looks almost as if it's bleeding.
"Let's. Try this from the beginning? Agent Jean, Pumpkin Hollow Recovery Task Force - off the ferry, like you I suspect!"
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Lev frowns, then shrugs rather theatrically—an impressive sight, as it's not just that they're two metres tall, it's also that they have long limbs and a short torso—less noticeable on them than on say, their husband, but occasionally noticeable nonetheless.
"Nu, if by thee, we may rewind a conversation, who am I to object?" they say and then, rather unexpectedly, bow from the waist in introduction. "Morgenshtern, Lev Venyaminovitsh or Lyubov Venyaminovna. Rabbi Morgenshtern, in truth, but like, feh, nobody what calls me Rabbi uses my civic surname after it. And yes, I am not from here. From another shard entirely? I think."
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"Floor of ... religions?" says Lev, bemused. "Where art thou from, that by thy corner, libraries are big enough to dedicate a floor to a single section, but not big enough to separate them? The civic library by the geniza, the main branch, they have half a floor just for our Law, and the other half's for the law by the Muslims, and the civic library down the road from my shul manages only four rows for us and for everyone else to boot, given they've only got three floors to work with, and the Geniza Library only ten minutes away by tram."
They're babbling. They've been a little on edge, a little manic lately. And Jean has them completely unbalanced. What kind of person can just recite the meaning of "Rabbi" but not know what kind of person it comes from—
"Nu. Wait! Thou said Judaism. Thou'rt Hellenistes, yes? All scholarship and neither tzedakah nor khesed."
Sorry, Jean. They're good at pastoral care, and they're a wonderful khazzan and shliakh, but for all of that, they're a queeny, catty fop too, and while they're never pettily cruel to most (not on purpose anyway), suspected monarchists are an exception.
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Notebook they say, it looks more like a diary; they produce it from a pocket (from the shape of their other pockets, there are Only More Notebooks) and page through it before getting closer to Lev to show them a map drawn in pencil, meticulously labeled. They look up (and up, and up...). "The City; six billion people, give or take, in twenty-six Districts divided between Nests and the Backstreets. I'm from here," they tap District 12 ("L"). "There's lots of libraries there, usually owned by various corporations or the Wings that rule each District and set its taboos. Lobotomy Corporation ran District 12 until it...exploded, and the Library of Ruina was raised from the shell of headquarters. We're not hellenists, we're...oligarchs? What's the name for the powerless citizen of an oligarchy? Nevermind, the Library..."
They slip into an easy cadence, maybe familiar; someone who likes to explain things, who feels at ease when they can. "The Library is...it's not a normal space. Bigger on the inside than on the outside, always room for more books no matter how many go in, with the Floors separated by topic and headed up by the Patron Librarians. From the ground floor roughly upwards - some of these are on the same or similar 'level' insofar as there's an elevation humans can recognize, hahaha, hahahahaha, oh there's so many fucking stairs, anyway, those are the Floor of History under Patron Librarian Malkuth, the Floor of Technological Sciences under Patron Librarian Yesod, the Floor of Literature under Patron Librarian Hod, the Floor of Art under Patron Librarian Netzach, the Floor of Natural Sciences under Patron Librarian Tiphereth, the Floor of Language under Patron Librarian Gebura - that's where I worked! - the Floor of Social Sciences under Patron Librarian Chesed, the Floor of Philosophy under Patron Librarian Binah - her and Chesed always argued about tea versus coffee - the Floor of Religion under Patron Librarian Hokma, and then the Director's personal assistant led up the Floor of General Works, a man by the name of Roland, but people usually call that level 'Keter'."
Jean looks up, all hopeful smiles. "We stayed pretty busy."
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Lev cocks their head to one side, looking down their long nose at Jean and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on here.
"Uh, sorry, just, nu," they finally say, at the end of that long explanation. "But who by thine library was like, doing idolatry on purpose?"
It's the most tactful way they can put this question.
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Their face falls. They look troubled. "I don't know all the details. Asking the Director about her creator was, haha, ha...she can explode people. Madam Gebura did talk some about her experience, but her old life was very famous...she...was a legend. She remembers dying, and then she was a machine, and then the Director gave her a human body again with the power of the Library. She said, ha...after dying twice she couldn't see herself as the person that began it. That the name she'd been given aligned more with who she is now."
"I think I've upset you. I'm sorry I don't know more."
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"Machine minds," says Lev, thoughtfully. Then they bite their lip, looking grave. They've got an idea of what might be going on. They do not like it. They expect that Jean will hate it, or might have a lot of questions, the answers to which they'll almost certainly hate. Unless they're like Apollon Sol Invictus, but then, they probably aren't.
Lev hopes.
"Listen, nu," they say, having made up their mind to tell Jean the truth, however indelicate or upsetting. "We need to talk somewhere private. I have some perspective on this that might ... shed some light on this matter, for thee."
They did not intend the pun.
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Lev looks them up and down and then says, "just so thou'rt aware, I do have a husband; easy I may be, but not that easy."
Then they grin, and laugh, "we'll not need privacy, nu? Like, I just want to talk somewhere quiet, where I may sit down. By thine will suit us well, I'm sure."
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No closer.
Closer.
Even closer than that.
You need to be able to count the pixels in their eyes using only a kosher hot dog as your pointing device.
"One day I'm going to have social skills," Jean laments in just the Tiniest Voice. "And on, hahaha, HAHAHA, HA, on that day I will be immortal, um. This way."
And OFF TO THE COTTAGE!
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"I'm only teasing, nu?" says Lev/Lyubov, a little sheepishly. They hadn't meant to be that mean. They don't opine anything about Jean's teeth or general demeanour, since that would definitely be going beyond cattiness, and though of the people they'd defer to, none are present to enforce any consequences, they're usually genuinely trying not to be pointlessly mean.
They follow Jean to the cottage; and since making small talk is well part of their usual social script by now, they decide to be nosy.
"So how did'st thou end up here?"
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"Something got me," Jean continues. "The Library was declared Impuritas Civitas, unwelcome in the City, and I was attacked on a scouting mission after our exile. Never saw it coming...but that was after the Director returned the Light. I was. Not equipped."
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Lev/Lyubov almost zones out, admiring the pencil sketches, but they manage to keep their attention on what Jean's saying. And for the sake of politeness and not pissing Jean off again after a truly inauspicious start, they don't comment on the fact that Jean's clearly making coffee, when they're primarily a tea drinker. They do crane their neck to see what kind of coffee Jean is preparing.
"Uh, returned the light?" they say, a question to confirm they heard right, but also in some way them claiming a stance on this Director and whoever else was responsible for whatever it is that happened to and around Jean. The absence of a capital letter is palpable. "Would'st thou be so good as to like, explain what that necessitated, or why it'd matter to how you died?"
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"Oh! You know, you're the first person to really ask? Although I don't fully understand it..." Jean pauses for a moment, then keeps working. "...The Light...Lobotomy Corporation had been gathering it for some reason, extracting it from the Abnormalities...the employees too, I think. It underpinned all our technology. But it's also just inside people? A bright Light, somehow both comforting and overwhelming, it lives behind your eyes and makes you who you are. The Director wanted it so she could become human, and a lot of our enemies believed that the Light we'd pillaged from the world could change the world instead, make it..."
"...Different..."
"But in the end the Director gave up on her plan. I'm not completely sure why, hahahaha, ha...she's hard to talk to. But she returned the Light, first to our victims so they could live again, and then to the world, releasing it from confinement on Keter Floor. She said...she said...she said it wasn't hers to own. That it's no one's to own."
This time Jean pauses to flash Lev a wan grin. "Unfortunately it still underpinned all our technology so all of my weapons and armor just! Stopped existing! Hahaha, HAHAHAHAHA, ha...and so when we were exiled outside of the City I wasn't up to snuff for fighting the monsters of the Outskirts."
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Lev nods along at the explanation of the Light, having figured out that Jean's making coffee in the Imperial style, which is the only coffee they'll go out of their way to drink. What Jean's saying about the Light seems to be more or less in line with what they'd expected, though they'd not have phrased the explanation the way Jean has.
"So like," they say, cautiously. "Your Director was right, the Light isn't ... hers to own. Or anyone's to make weapons from."
And then they wait for Jean's reaction to that. They really don't want to upset Jean again, after all, but they also anticipate that sensitively and compassionately delivering the news of "so your Director blasphemed in a way I find hard to hold in my head, because of the sheer khutzpah of what she did" might take an hour or so of carefully guided conversation.
By Tradition I Declare: Damn OCs And Their One Liners
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Lev doesn't even blink. They shrug.
"It happens, nu?" they say. "Please don't burn the coffee on my account. Like ... the Light's in everything. Even when obscured by a shell. It's ... the Light."
And then they smile, as if thinking of a friend or even a lover.
"Maybe like, I should've said, the Light will not be owned. It is not a tool, or a commodity."
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They go quiet, clearly thinking, while they get out cream and sugar, so they can start serving the coffee.
"This," they touch their suit, "was created with our technology. Lobotomy Corporation called it "E.G.O. and used it as armor and weapons, but it's not...haha, completely that? This is also my friend the Wolf, an Abnormality, or...a piece of him? A connection to him? Some part of the Wolf is here, wherever he's worn."
"But. Humans can also manifest their own E.G.O without technological intervention. Madam Gebura did so, in her first life. Somehow, without instruction or tools, her Light became armor."
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"The Wolf?" says Lev, and then realisation dawns. "Right. Yes, the wolf. The one what almost mauled me?" They grin at Jean, hoping it's clear that's meant to be a light-hearted joke. They're sorely wishing they had any kind of social script for this sort of situation. They feel decidedly out of their depth.
But as to the Madam that Jean mentions—
"What was her name in her previous life?" says Lev, softly. "I have reasons of mine own to not use the name she acquired later. I mean, like. It's what I wished to talk to thee about. Thou know'st, what her latter-day name means, yes?"
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"It doesn't translate well," Jean murmurs at last. "To Korean or to Emeran. Closest in meaning to 'severity' and 'might', the Light as the punisher of the wicked."
"She was called Kali, before. The Red Mist was her title. But she isn't Kali any longer."
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"But know'st thou where it is from?" Lev insists. They take the cup, nod their thanks. "Know'st thou why a person should never bear such a name?"
They sip the coffee, and smile in approval.
"Thy coffee's good," they say. "But. Really, Jean. I know what the meaning of the name is. And it is not Punishment. It is Judgement. But it is not a name that a person ought to bear. To lay claim to that name entire, it is ..." their face briefly distorts in disgust and grief, "it is idolatry. Blasphemy."
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...From...
"...Madam Gebura did not choose her name, except insofar as she chose to keep it," they continue. "None of the former Sefirot did. As far as I know, the one responsible for their deaths and transformations has been killed. And I do mean the one. The Director did not do this to them. They did not do this to themselves. And I'm uncertain how to fully explain the, the...haha, the scope of the violations that took place."
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Lev/Lyubov leans forward; their hair hangs over their face, obscuring their expression. Flatly, they say, "Jean, thou need'st explain not the scale of the violation. Not like, to me, nu? But. Oy. I fear that I am the wrong person to explain such things to anyone, let alone to thee."
They sigh, and drink some more of the coffee. Bolstered thus, they shudder, writhing their shoulders in a clear display of antsiness, agitation, impending overwhelm.
"I am … unused, nu?" they begin, then hesitate briefly, before continuing, their voice a little shaky. "Unused to talking to one who, feh! Knows about Jews, and our covenant, but only as a theoretical matter, with personal sentiment involved not. And I surmise that the nightmare regime thou lived under, it permitted little true ritual and community. Am I like, correct?"
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