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]

"Yes. I was boarding my ship and instead of entering the cabin, I came through a door here."

He knows people have similar stories. How it happens, he doesn't know, and doesn't particularly care to discover the mechanics behind it. He would like it to stop however.

The child, all the while, responds to the reach. His eyes shut and his hand lifts up, three-fingered claw extending forward, a physical crutch to a power unrefined yet powerful. The Mandalorian lowers his head and takes notice of what the child is doing, recognizing the young one's use of the sorcery of his people. He then looks up to Cal, appraising him with a hidden expression.

[out_of_order]

"A door..." He remembers it. In a place where no door had a right to be, and he himself had been far from any before finding himself stepping through it. Ilum itself had no settlements, so while it was clear he couldn't be there any more, the how's had been something to wrestle with, and apparently a part of the greater mystery of wherever this place is that they've found themselves.

It's easier then, even almost comforting, to allow himself to be distracted by the child that the Mandalorian holds. How old the little one is, Cal can't even begin to guess, although clearly young for one of his such species. If the Order were still existent, still active, perhaps this one would be training now, as he once had.

While he doesn't extend his hand in turn, he still reaches out through other means. It's easier to trust a child. It makes him think of the list of names of the Force-sensitive children he's been trying to seek with Cere.

"...he's strong," Cal says, eyes still on the youngling. "Where did you find him?"

[muffled]

"...Arvala-7, Outer Rim."

A small, remote desert planet, he doesn't expect the man to be familiar with it. He doubts that is where the child originates from, but there is much he doesn't know about the young one in his care. What he does know, or what he can tell at least, is that this man is one the sorcerers he has been searching for. It isn't so different from how he met Rey - she too could tell what the child was.

"You're a Jedi, aren't you?" He asks with only the slightest doubt. "This child is one of your people. I have been quested to reunite him with those who are fit to care for him."

[out_of_order]

True, the name doesn't ring a bell to Cal, but then there are only so many places he'd been with his master, and other places he's only heard of through rumors and what news circulated the Scrapper Guildworkers on Bracca, usually nothing good.

To the question he simply nods. It doesn't strike him that the man is all too familiar with Jedi that clarifying his status as a padawan would probably be unnecessary. "...the Jedi Order is gone, unfortunately," Cal says quietly. "We were labeled as traitors by the Empire, and have been hunted down since. I've only ever come across a few other Jedi and only recently." Two had Fallen and one had renounced herself from the Force, so it seems to make little difference.

[muffled]

The Mandalorian, though expression unreadable, is stunned into silence. He didn't know there was a Jedi Order, or anything of what part the Empire had in their scarce numbers. It makes more sense now why Moff Gideon wanted this child so badly, and it brings relief to remember blowing up his TIE fighter. Even so, the Empire still tries to hold on to their now fragile power.

"My people have been hunted the same," the Mandalorian offers, the sympathy in his voice resonating low in the first words. "There is another Jedi on this island. The two of you will need to take this child once we find a way off world. He won't be safe with me."

His life, his way, is not one for a young child that cannot choose the dangers he has faced. A Jedi does not belong with a Mandalorian.

[out_of_order]

"I'm sorry to hear that," Cal replies. He's not sure what more to say. The Empire being terrible isn't anything new, but he just wishes there was a clear way for it to be stopped. At least he has a mission that would potentially restore the Order. It's the one thing that he's found to focus on, a purpose.

The news that there's another Jedi surprises him. "There is?" He pauses, hesitating as he looks at the little one again. "...I understand. But honestly, I don't know how much safer he would be with me. I have my own mission, and the places it's taken me to aren't exactly the safest." Maybe the other Jedi would be a safer bet? Perhaps it's too soon to plan ahead.

"...how long have you been here?" Cal asks, stooping down to scoop up some snow in his hands. He packs it tight into a ball, letting it rest in his hand for the child to see. Then gently with the Force, he levitates it, letting it drift closer towards the strange pair to see what the little one will do.

[muffled]

"A few months. I came here with the first wave of arrivals - you're the fourth."

The verbalization, the words rolling out of his mouth, come with a strangeness to himself. He never has been grounded for a very long time, at least not intentionally so, and not since he was young. Settling down in one place has never been in his plans, but this island has forced his hand. For now, an opportunity to leave has not presented itself in a meaningful way.

Any next questions he thought to ask escape his mind quickly when he sees how the snow levitates. He knows the Jedi have these powers, but to see them in action will never cease to bewilder him. The child watches the levitation and, with a hesitation that can be felt between them alone, reaches his claws out to take the snow ball. He holds it in his hands, grumbling, then lets the ball roll off and fall to the ground with a hard plop.

[out_of_order]

So people arrived in groups? Cal frowns thoughtfully. To be stuck here for any amount of months is too long as far as he's concerned. The Empire's still moving, the others, who knows what's happened to them?

"Are there many here, then?" It doesn't feel like the place is abandoned, that's for sure. The weather's surely to fault for how quiet it is otherwise. He rubs briskly at his arms to try, perhaps in vain to keep them warm while he watches the child. His head tilts as the snowball goes tumbling to be lost in the rest of the snow.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and this time he's addressing the little guy. The latter he addresses the Mandalorian with, glancing back towards that t-visored visage. "How did you know to seek out a Jedi?"

[muffled]

The child, stubborn, makes a small grunt in response to Cal's question. There is no want in him to answer, even as his displeasure can be felt. A muted fear of using his power in the moment. The Mandalorian sighs, not too surprised at his friend's resistance.

"Around a hundred, I'd estimate. As for the Jedi..." he pauses, adjusting the baby in his arms. "I was told to seek you out by my clan leader. She informed me you were an order of sorcerers... and that the Jedi are an ancient enemy of Mandalore."

[out_of_order]

That's more than Cal was expecting, and it shows on his face as he considers the numbers. The town itself doesn't look like it could be that big, not that he's seen much of it just yet. He shakes his head a little, deciding it's easier to focus on the two here than the circumstances of their displacement, especially not when it seems any headway's been made in figuring out how to leave.

He steps closer, mostly because he feels strange having a conversation at a distance, especially when trying to engage the little one. The fear, that's no unfamiliar feeling at all. He won't come too closely though, not if the Mandalorian's as wary as he'd seemed when he'd first gone and scooped up the child. Quite frankly, Cal can't blame him, being wary of everyone in his own right.

"Mandalore..." The details click in his mind, nothing too much, but he's at the very least heard of the formidable warriors...and the unfortunate problems that had plagued their homeworld. "I don't know about enemies. The Jedi are protectors for peace and justice. ...and then we got pulled into the Clone Wars." And things went so horribly wrong. Cal closes his eyes, shaking his head before he looks at the child again.

"It's okay. I don't know what you've been through, but I know how it is... being on your own. Hiding what you are to survive." The child seems to know something about the Force. And given the current climate in the galaxy regarding Force users, Cal can only assume the little one's been doing the same as he has these past five years.

[muffled]

"I don't hide who I am, Jedi," he declares brusquely, offended at the thought. "I wear it. From my helmet, to my armor, to my weapons. I am a Mandalorian to the end of my days."

Though he knows little of the Jedi, he knows well who he is. Who he has been since he was pulled him from the bunker on his home world, saved and given new purpose. His clan may have gone underground for safety, but he has never avoided the surface the way so many of his people have. Many have tried to claim his beskar, and that many are dead.

[out_of_order]

Cal's lips twist in a weak, if crooked smile. "Not you," he says, before nodding at the little one held in the Mandalorian's arms. "Him. ...but I don't think I'd expect anything less of a Mandalorian, from what little I know. I could envy you for having such a clear path."

He's finally found one again himself, if not completely by his choosing. The Force works in strange ways though. He's ashamed of having hidden away, but he didn't know what else to do but cling to his master's dying words. No help had ever come, no word from the Council.