Fourth TDM: Winter's breath

[upcyclingmod]

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As a quick note: This will be the last TDM and Application Round of the year! Have fun everyone!

Arrival


Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.

Start of Winter

Thankfully things have more or less dried out, for the seasons are already changing. Or at least, the weather is, and with it...comes snow.

The grass on the island is covered, various trees lose the last of their leaves, the sand becomes crunchy, and even a portion of the ocean water becomes frozen solid. (Take THAT, water!). And with it, Wickies wake up at their feet (or suddenly in their hands if they don’t sleep) warm clothing and various ways to keep warm- or at least keep the cold from messing with their joints!

And with it, there are snow shovels and boots that are set out neatly by the door. It seems more snowk is expected, and foot protection is more important than ever. While it is possible for some (those who are not infected by the Silence at least) to use the teleporter to get from town to their homes, there are pathways that need to be cleared for everyone.

It might be a good time to offer a helping hand! Especially with some Wickies who are snowed into their homes.

Or it could be a good time to use the shovels to gather snow for snow ball fights, snow forts, and similar winter activities. The nice thing about the winter shovels is that they’ll have them for a few months.

Too bad the ground is nearly frozen solid, and these particular shovels are not good for digging into the ground.


Frosty Protections

While there may be the snow and the quiet that’s coming in, there are other things that are coming into the island too. There are tables that linger day or night, which have tangyuan. Some in the shape of various animals, and some of them that are simply balls of colored dough. They are edible, and thankfully they don’t have a negative consequence to eating them (unlike the mooncakes from before) but there are written instructions, which also proclaim outloud to a Wickie if they linger for awhile:

“For the use of protective talismans! Stick it on your chair, your door, your window!”

Interestingly enough, they do seem to work. Wickies who are Silence infected are repelled by them, feeling uneasy and nauseous around them and touching the tangyuan even with covered hands will cause a burning sensation.

Infected Wickies who eat the treats...they’re in for a rough time. Really rough.

There are also little tables with various drinks, some being fruit juice, sparkling fruit juice, champagne and of similar ilk- but not ever with water. That’s just bad luck after everything.

The inscription for this table, which is again read out loud, “Toast to others health”

Picking up the cups, they will be unable to drop it, and the fluid will refill in the Wickie’s cup until they find someone to toast to- whether it’s in humor or in earnestness.

For the next twelve hours after the toast is made, even if the drink is not drunk after, the Wickie toasted will find they will have better luck in that subject, whether it is in health, love, or friendship, or just in general.

The same applies if Wickies toast together to a group of people as well.


Of hooves and horns

The strangest thing of all isn't the sweet rice balls, nor is it the smell of evergreens heavy in the air. Instead, it's the masks set to everyone, and the ruckus music that thrums through the air, deep into the night.

The masks are of a haggard old woman, well worn and aged, and that of a man with horns and facial hair similar to a goat.

There are different effects when it comes to the masks, both happening at night with the music starts.

Wickies wearing the devilish mask find themselves wearing a ragged fur suit, prancing in the streets, ready to whip other Wickies whose behavior has been suspect or bad as of late. Finding the wicked and punishing them is an impulse, neigh impossible to ignore. And, too, there is a sense of wicked glee when they do punish someone with their reeds and whips. Krampus masked Wickies thankfully can be pacified with rum or brandy. They'll need the help of another to pull of the mask. But once it's off, the costume vanishes, and the chagrin of what happened ( or the satisfaction) follows.

Wickies wearing the woman’s mask will find that they’re not trying to scare people, but instead, they find themselves loping in and out of the crowds, searching, scanning, for certain people, all the while wearing ragged clothing, and often a scarf on their now ratty, graying hair.

It’s with a sickening horror that Wickies will realize there is something in the mask that is watching through the mask itself, and is nodding to itself far away and writing their names on a list.

And it’s not Santa Claus.

The Wickie’s wearing the old woman’s mask can be distracted by scattering seeds or threads in front of them- one inducing a true distraction to count and pick up the seeds, and a rage that comes over that of wasted thread.

Seeds make it easier to pull off the mask, and thankfully popcorn counts as a seed! But thread...well, it is a distraction too, but one that can lead to violent consequences. It might mean some rounds of bait and switching until the mask is taken off.

And that’s when the Wickie who had been wearing the mask realizing the list is of ‘bad’ Wickies, But…

how bad could they be?

Confession network

Yet again, the phone goes off. Doesn’t look like it’s anybody in town, but it’s that weird, cheesy app called The Heart Game. And it’s persistent, too: it doesn’t want to be ignored, making a series of beeps and chirps, much like a pet that wants attention.

The message that pops up is as follows:

We’re back! It’s the time for everyone's favorite game- Confession! So beloved users, our question is:

What do you love about winter? Is it the nip on your nose? The hot drinks? Playing in the snow? Tell us!

Comments

[muffled]

[ the mandalorian takes a look around again, checking for any other signs of life, but finds nothing. he's never seen wolves roaming around here... could this one have been pulled into this island the same as everyone else? the gun is holstered, tentatively so, and he kneels down to greet the wolf. it isn't safe to touch a beast that has not yet given permission, even if he wants to. ]

Hey there. Where'd you come from?

[ from the bundle, the child pokes his green head out from the safety of his blankets. ever curious, he tries to look as closely as possible and makes a small whine when he can't move too much out of the safety of his bundle to do so. ]

[brushy]

[ permission granted! her triangle ears fold back and her head remains low, but her trot to greet the man is bouncy, her panting grin a happy one that ends with her skull seeking his hand for stroking. she can’t see your face, lad, but she knows you want to. the kneel was an open invitation universally understood.

then the little head, poking out of fabric . . . hello little one—! her front paws march in place with excitement as her ears point forward with attention. her mouth closes as she inches her head closer to the child, to sniffsniffsniff and give him the desired view, ever slow to not startle the guardian— she won’t attack. she looks far more like a dog at this moment, her tail is waving frantically behind her and so fast that even her flank seems to sway along with it. ]

[muffled]

[ the mandalorian breathes a soft laugh through his helmet and reaches out his free hand to pat down the side of the wolf, rubbing her side underneath all the layer of fur. she's a friendly one for sure. the child, however, reclines back as the wolf pushes forward. he whines soft and the mandalorian's head tilts down. ]

It's ok, kid. She's friendly. [ he raises his head to rest on the wolf's head, scritching behind her ears. ] See? Reach out your hand. It's ok.

[ his voice is soft with encouragement, though the child's ears sweep down and continue to stare at the wolf with reservation in his eyes. he looks back to his caretaker, still staring down at him, and then looks to the wolf again. still hesitant, wary around larger creatures, his three-clawed hand extends out slowly to reach for the wolf's snout. ]

[brushy]

[ the rubs. the rubs were good from this one. a gruff sort of scratching that made her hide wave with the flow of fingers, where the mandalorian’s hand would go missing beneath her winter coat. oh— oh, no, where where her manners, though? so used to people, children especially, waddling up to her to give her hugs and pull at her tail that ahmi forgets, for a second, that she could seem scary. have dogs frightened him, she wonders? having an incredible sense of what was going on, the she-wolf ceases her ecstatic pressing, but doesn’t pull away with speed. she waits, with ethereal patience for the child to feel ready. her nose was wet, cold even! but the rest was very soft, fluffy at absolute best.

she could remain absolutely composed by front, but where she decides to sit, the thumping tail gives her away. she’s encouraging his grasp with the softest of licks, just one as she extends her skull another centimeter for exploration— he could pull at her lips and ears with a powerful infant’s grasp, for all she cared. ]

[muffled]

[ the touch of the wet snout gets the child to pull his hand back with urgency, to the mandalorian's amusement. he too pulls his hand away from the wolf, but only so he can take the child's arm in-between his fingers in a careful hold. ]

Here, like this.

[ he moves his body forward and lifts, giving the child a chance to rest his small claw on top of the wolf's furry head. her markings are truly astounding, a pattern the mandalorian has never seen before. the child too makes a soft coo, ears perking up when he feels how soft she is. he rubs his hand in a circle around the spot, grin widening in the safety of his caretaker's hold, and even starts to move his claw to the ears for playful rubs. ]

Good, good. [ that's the way. he tilts his head to address the wolf, voice warm and fond. ] He's never seen anything like you before. Neither have I. Your markings are distinct for a wolf.

[brushy]

[ he's done it! she's no longer scary, yes, now the child has found out the truth: she's just a big furball, as her old companion from many moons ago would say (do not say fat, though). the wolf's head dips and her mouth closes into a spreading smile when the spot behind the ears are rustled. right there . . . she could just see stars when people do that. what a sweet, sweet thing. look at that grin, the sound! it makes up for everything she couldn't see of the masked lad, for now.

his remark does bring her attention over, eyes only (her head was a little occupied!). she lifts her paw and seems to be asking for his arm. his hand, to be precise. if he doesn't give her what she asks of him, she persistently paws again until he gets it right. at least she's gentle, feather-light with her touching but resolute in her communication. her eyes are focused on the mandalorian: she wants something. ]