quietplacelogs | INTRO LOG #3

Entry tags:

the dark tower: jake chambers

INTRO LOG #3

INTRO LOG #3
Put a Sock in It
Content Warnings: Disorientation, memory loss, confusion
Themes: Arrival, survival, exploration, horror

You wake, standing. A thick, muddy red dust coats your skin and clothes - it sticks to your tongue and blocks your vision. Inhale and it chokes you, exhale and your breath puffs out in front of your face in a transparent maroon cloud. It tastes of copper, tangy and harsh. Movement is difficult, every limb tingles and aches. Look to your left, your right. Evenly spaced in each direction stands another person indistinguishable in every way from the next. You're disoriented and lethargic, unable to grasp onto a single thought. A pinprick of light blooms ahead and grows steadily larger; a door has opened.

Hands grip your wrists, push at the small of your back and guide you out of the darkness into a room with four walls and a thin, sagging ceiling. The plaster is peeling, the air is musty, and the floor is slick. White plastic piping juts up from the center and curves into multiple spouts, clean water flowing in uneven streams. Those hands pull your clothes off and clear the dust from your body, redress you in handsewn jumpsuits. By the time they’re through, you will have begun to come back to yourself.

A finger is pressed to your lips. Kind eyes meet your own and a single word is whispered - hush.

Led out of the room in a line, you’re taken down a short hallway and into another, much larger room. There’s a woman waiting for you there, Constance, with a child hugging her leg - a cloth bag in her hands. She reaches in and pulls out a device, passes one to each of you. Once finished, she begins to move both hands in graceful gestures, a language. One of the people who helped you lifts their device and the screen lights up, tracks the woman’s hands. Letters appear on the screen and you understand the device’s purpose. She tells you what she knows and it’s not much.

This world is haunted. Noise attracts them, so it is not allowed. Communication is through body language, soundless writing, and the device. She tells you that your feet must be light and your mouth never used. There is a community outside these doors, where you can survive together, but only if you agree to one thing: complete and total silence. You'll have time to talk it over. You may ask one question and receive one answer. There are others like you in the room, those who'd come earlier. They're there to help.

Acceptance allows you to journey outside. The ground is marked in pathways of sand, lining the paths to each building and everywhere in-between. You notice that the locals hold their devices always, aloft and glance to it often. It will not vibrate or make a sound to signal a message. Notices appear. Rules. Guidelines. Feet on the sand and never anywhere else. To open a door you brush your fingers along the hinges - oiled and you may enter. If not, take the brush from the can sitting nearby and coat the metal with the dark liquid.

Now, you're to settle into your new home – with or without the help of those who have come before you.

In Freakish Flight
Content Warnings: Threat to safety, death, weird creatures
Themes: Plot, survival

This is the tale that was told to me by the man with the crystal eye,
As I smoked my pipe in the camp-fire light, and the Glories swept the sky;
As the Northlights gleamed and curved and streamed, and the bottle of "hooch" was dry.

The new arrivals are here, like clockwork it seems. A strange occurrence that the natives haven't missed. They don't have answers but following support and encouragement from some of the older arrivals, they have been looking into it. If they notice anything odd, they post it to the bulletin board and they're working as hard as ever to help. Settling in is easier this time around, smoother, as everyone is more prepared than before. The first few days go well, one of the natives finds a patch of wild berries and makes fresh jam - serves it with breakfast until it runs out. There's a nice breeze that night, not too hot and not too cold. The stars twinkle and the moon is full, a pleasant atmosphere rolls through the community as everyone falls asleep.

Everyone wakes to the soft sounds of birds chirping. There's a light fog, windows misted over, and abruptly, it goes quiet. The only way to see outside is to open the door and those curious ~~brave~~ enough will find, covered in red dust, a handful of individually unique creatures scattered around the fountain at the center of the community. There's about fourteen of them - each one focused on the door of the main residences and two have scurried off towards the others, quiet now but watching. After the first door opens, they move, stopping only when they're right in front of each of the houses and then the sounds start again. Louder.

OOC: Removing the threat, these creatures, is possible in a few ways. They have a weakness for water, which slows them down and shuts them up. They can be killed, the same as any normal animal might. Or they can be captured, something tied around their bills to silence them. Unfortunately, only a few will survive being caught alive ( we randomized out of the twelve houses - 5, 1, 2, 12, and Private Housing (Sora) and the Permanent Apartments ) and can be kept for study. The players in each house can decide what they want to do with them or use the comment below if they want to hand it over. As a side note, the dead ones can be kept too.

Alone or Together
Content Warnings: Poisoning
Themes: Plot

Up until now everything around here has been, well, pleasant. Recently certain things have become unpleasant. Now, it seems to me that the first thing we have to do is to separate out the things that are pleasant from the things that are unpleasant.

The natives have been up front about those that came through the Reset Room before. Some left, some didn't survive, and a few now call themselves natives. The above message lights up everyone's devices ( username - lamar ) but all ways to respond are disabled. A follow up message comes from Constance, explaining that they don't know how the message has been sent due to the fact that Lamar has been dead for over a decade. That night at dinner, the set up in town hall, the natives are abuzz talking about the mysterious message. Food is passed out. Drinks are had.

Before the first person leaves the hall, a plume of red dust sprays out from an old vent near the floor boards and fills the room. Quickly, all color is leached from the world. Every person is now color blind, seeing everything in varying shades of black, white, and grey as they cough and choke, trying to clear the dust from their faces and mouths. Was this Lamar? Was this the person who rigged up the noise machine in Verdel Square? What did the message mean?

OOC: The effects will fade after twenty four hours. All arrivals, new and old, plus all natives will be effected. For each character, one person will still be in color. Players can decide who this is. A friend, lover, enemy, one of the natives.

OOC
From your mods:

Please be mindful of content - if something triggery comes up or if it goes up a rating to say, something sexy, mark your threads in the subject line. We're very flexible and allow any material; we just want our players to be respectful of each other. If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment to the appropriate post below. Have fun!

NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. arrival

[ after having assessed the whole situation as being fucking crazy, chloe figures it's best to try and get her room in order so that she can at least maybe sleep and pretend none of this is happening. if she does, maybe she'd wake up? that's worked before. falling asleep in a dream in order to get herself to jar in reality.

except her dad's not here and he's always in her dreams these days. no matter how fucked up.

so she's walking along, trying to find things that could work to make the dining room she's supposed to be calling home sweet home, but she's pickier than she probably should be (or too small to carry anything?) so mostly all she's got is... books and a couple of pens.

because you can definitely sleep on books and pens, price. good job. ]

ii. in freakish light; house 4 inside and any houses nearby w/ birds for rock throwing

What the fuck?

[ the words come out in a whisper because she figures the chirping is creating enough noise to attract attention as is, so why not. she's never seen anything like these kinds of birds, but she's figuring, as she peaks out the window at the monstrous looking things, that they can't be any harder to scare off than anything else, right?

so she's making her way as quietly as possible out the house (which is pretty quiet, this place is good for that kind of set up, at least) and she's going to try and move off the deck to grab some rocks she sees on the ground so she can chuck it at them.

this could... end really not well, but if she hits it in the head - hard - maybe it'll shut it up. when she sees someone else out of the corner of her eye, she's waving them over to the small pile she's created so maybe they'll help her out. ]

iii. alone or together

[ as a girl who thrives on art and awesome hair dye, seeing in black and white is about the worst thing that could happen in her eyes (no pun intended???). she's trying her best to not freak out about it - about whether or not it's permanent or gonna fade, and she's cursing slightly through the coughs to get the dust out of her lungs.

whoever the fuck this lamar guy is, he's not acting very dead, because she can't believe the two aren't connected. she's pissed, and it's written on her face, because being angry is easier than being scared, right? right. ]

iv. wildcard

[ ooc: just as a note, chloe's covered in some bruises, just like she was on the TDM, since she got her ass kicked at home just before she arrived. ]

Edited 2018-03-13 02:11 (UTC)

[Faith isn't happy either. She's not an artist, but she's no fan of this Kansas 'Wizard of Oz' shit. Black and white? Really? But she rolls with it, because there's little else she can do, right? She can't punch the red dust away. She'd love to fight the Sound Eaters, but that doesn't seem like a good option either.

So instead she's getting on with it. Back to her job, hauling very large sand bags across town to make new paths. As she works, she's wearing her jeans and a... maybe it was her red tank top? It's hard to say, she couldn't tell the difference anymore. It's a boring as shit job, but someone's got to do it. But now it seems even worse with the shades of grey, like some depressing documentary about the Great Depression. She glances up in the middle of her work to see a teenager looking right at her. She looks angry, which Faith definitely understands. Her eyebrow quirks, giving the girl a slight wave. 'Hey?']

[ Look she hadn't meant to stare, but it was the red that had caught her eye first. It was even brighter and more vibrant than any she'd seen because there wasn't anything to dull it out. It made it hard to not look, mostly because she didn't understand why this woman of all people wasn't black and white like the rest of the world.

She also realized it could look hella creepy and so she startled some at the wave, like a kid caught staring at her crush, and quickly felt herself go pink (darker shade of gray? Whatever.) She gave a small wave back, trying to not look lame.

Too Late. ]

[Faith dusts the sand off her jeans and stands upright to get a better look at the girl. She doesn't notice the blush, but only because it's hard to differentiate with the current lack of color palate. Stepping over the sand bags, she starts her way over to her. She seems to be staring at Faith's shirt. Or is it her rack? Wouldn't be the first time she'd caught someone staring at it. All the same, she pulls out her device.] Everything alright?

chloe price | life is strange: before the storm

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