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quietplacelogs2018-03-12 06:34 pm
bequiet) wrote in quietplacelogs2018-03-12 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
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
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!
no subject
The red mop of hair perks up, green eye flickering alongside the building somewhere for the familiar bibliothèque written on a plaque or something. And for a moment...god, for a brief moment his face relaxes to the point where Frank can see the innocent kid he once was. Someone who loved to learn anything the world offered him.
Of course, that was before the rules of his new occupation slammed into him. Before they got involved in the war. Before he was kidnapped and tortured and changed. Before he grew a heart that was broken and resoldered into the person he is now.
Then the reality shifts back in and he looks down at the device, giving a soundless sort of snort.] I think I had that nickname once too. But if you want to be called 'Hotdog" then that's your current you's name.
[There's part of Lavi that accepts names not chosen by the bearer. As Lavi is not his own name.
A moment's hesitation.]
Can we go in? [The eagerness returns. Muted.]
no subject
[ it isn't in great shape and one wrong move could spell disaster, but frank leads the way into the building. there's sand on the steps and through the first few rows of books. some shelves have collapsed and remain on the floor. he read the thing earlier about punching bag but he's just... processing, cateloguing. like he does. there's no need to respond to every little thing in a place like this. or even really at all, as far as frank's concerned. he waits for things to become relevant to bother with them. ]
Spread out? [ he'll stick close by if it's what lavi wants, but he's running out of reading material too, so he walks off towards the fiction section anyway. ]
no subject
He's lightfooted enough to get around with little trouble even if his steps and strides aren't always the steadiest. Lavi stands in the entranceway, looking at it all and soaking in the familiar smells of paper and ink, of leather and dust. But the unfamiliar one of dust has seeped into it all. He almost doesn't catch the second part of Frank's signing and he nods.
The Bookman tilts his head off towards the other part of the building, towards the history and other such things. He deals in facts, though he's read for pleasure, habits are hard to fall out of. Learn about the world.
And then he gets lost in it, in the books, picking his way through the chaos and noting places here and there where work could be done to support the aging building. And thinking of it, he sends a message to Frank:]
Is there any plans to make this building safer?
no subject
the message comes through and he realizes he'd all but forgotten about lavi and arrival day he'd gotten so lost in the book for a moment there. ]
not that i know of. but you could if you wanted. i'll help.
[ there goes frank, always spreading himself too thin. the clinic, the prison, the hospital, and now the library. but lavi has a point. everyone comes here, it should be safe. ]
no subject
Lavi considers the task, the others that he himself is already setting. Much like Frank, many plans. But slowly he'll put himself to them, he knows this body's limits all too frightfully now.]
Perhaps only for heavy lifting I can't do alone. Sure your mayoral responsibilities need you elsewhere. And Sora can keep an eye on me. We take care of each other in our travels. Who knows, maybe I'll move from construction to librarian at this rate.
no subject
[ he's probably taken it to an extreme with micro himself, but honestly? he wouldn't change it for the world. ]
no subject
Frank will find Lavi in an area that was set up for reading, a few damaged seats propping up a bookcase that has seen better days and a table leaning against the wall in a sort of reading nook/"tent". He's got a few books piled up in the floor around it, flipping through the pages too fast for him to read normally. It would almost seem like he was looking for something but he is indeed retaining the information. More or less.]
At this rate I don't think we'd let each other be alone. We're family.
no subject
what are you looking for? [ he retains the information too, about sora. he spoke to him once, he knows he's one of the people here who travels from world to world. lavi must be the same. ]
no subject
Any information about the world since my time. Not really finding anything relevant to it, but it's still an interesting interpretation and point of view. [He's actually just got a book about architecture right now. You'd be surprised how much you can learn about the time period based off the buildings.]
Nothing really telling in this book, might be an older edition. Treasure Island?
no subject
what point of view is that?
[ frank shrugs, pulling his book out to glance at the spine. ] it's a classic, right? gotta see what the hype is about
no subject
An unbiased one. There's no politician or ruler that cares that much about what buildings look like or the innovations inside of them to limit them. It used to be a big part of my job, unbiased views. [At least in France.]
...It's a good story. You'll enjoy it. [He types after some...hesitation.]