Jan. 29th, 2024

meteordust: (Default)
I've been playing Fallen London for a lot of years now, but one thing I've never done is make a Noman. Until now.

Every Christmas, snow falls in the Neath. Well, not snow exactly, but a similar substance called lacre. It could be tears, or souls, or something else. It may have memories inside it. It has unusual properties.

Anyway, one of the things you can do with lacre is make a snowman out of it and your own blood. This Noman comes to life, and you can imbue it with your own qualities, and teach it about the world and what it means to exist. But when spring comes, it melts away, bit by bit. It's meant to be a poignant story about the transient nature of life, I guess.

But if you can keep your Noman alive until the Feast of the Exceptional Rose, which is around Valentine's Day, you can commemorate its existence with a special tattoo on your character. This Noman Tattoo is a coveted achievement. It also requires the expenditure of numerous Unusual Pails of So-Called Snow and/or Vials of Tears of the Bazaar, to refresh your Noman and delay its melting.

Pails of Snow can only be gathered at Christmas and melt sometime in the New Year, but Vials of Tears can be collected throughout the year. I've collected them on and off over the years, and made a big push in the past year. So I finally felt ready to give the Noman a go. You can just make a Noman without any of these preparations, but I only wanted to make one if I had a chance of something to remember it by.

This is what happens when you prepare to make it:

The Noman

Pass the blade of the knife across your palm. Let the blood fall into the lacre. Something will arise: though it will not survive the winter.


This is what happens when you succeed:

A newborn

It is pale, and its eyes are shadowed pits. When first it clambers from the lacre, it is as barely formed and inviting to the touch as snow new-fallen on the corner of a wall. But second by second, it looks more and more like you. When it looks up and smiles, its face is your own, albeit snow-coloured and fragile. "I'm me," it says in delight. "I'm me!" It reaches out to touch your face.


Oh. Oh no. This is going to be heartwrenching.

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