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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!
do you ever think you tagged something........then you realize.........
It helps that he childishly banks on teenage boys not being quite smart enough to hide their manipulation. Boys like Henry and Patrick didn't ever both to hide the fact that they would love to skin you alive. Some people who were that fucked up in the head always had a look in their eyes. Even Eddie knew the difference between Henry and some poor stupid bastard like Belch.
He doesn't think Thomas wants to hurt him, in the end, and after a few seconds of warring with that, he reaches a shaking hand out and grabs at Thomas's outstretched one. He pulls himself forward through the water.)
There's a fishing line around me. I got the hook out though. (He still had it pinched between his fingers in case it decided to go for another grab for his skin. He keeps a hold of Thomas's hand with his other hand, still feeling a little shaky despite making the decision to trust the boy for now.
He fusses a bit, his nose crinkled up, and he stumbles a bit in the water, though not too awful. It somehow had mostly gotten tangled at his legs. Which would be fine except the random taut lines it created against his struggling.)
lmao YES all the time rip
the fishing line is a little bit of a problem, but not one he can really fix in the water, and it's nothing he can't really work around. if he and his friends could figure out how to get out of being strung up by their ankles, thomas can figure out how to untangle this kid from a little fishing wire.
but the boy is struggling, that much he can tell as he attempts to lead him back to the bank, still connected to him at the hand. it must be tangled around his legs, he thinks, though he can't be sure. thomas stops for a second, adjusting his grip around eddie's hand. ]
You okay if I carry you? Just to the edge.
[ if eddie were any one of his friends, thomas would probably just pick him up and toss him over his shoulder without asking, because they all look out for each other even when they don't know they need looking after; but eddie had spooked when he'd first approached him, so thomas figures it's probably better to give him a little bit of a warning so he doesn't freak him out again. ]
no subject
The offer catches Eddie off guard and he's left staring up at Thomas. He can feel an embarrassing sort of heat spread wide open across his cheeks and he steadily stares down at the water instead. He could practically hear Richie snickering in his head, and it was almost pristine enough that he nearly looked over his shoulder to make sure Richie wasn't actually right there.
He's not, of course, and after a moment Eddie gives a nod.)
Okay. Sure.
(It was for the best Thomas didn't do that. Then he'd really hear the pipes on a Kaspbrak and boy were they loud.
Eddie's been picked up by Bill, and a few of the strong, warrior type women back on the station, that he automatically reaches his arms up towards Thomas's neck, his body already shifting weight in preparation to be scooped up. The kid was a hundred pounds soaking wet, which he literally was just then, so he'd barely be an effort to carry.)
Sorry, by the way. I wasn't paying attention when I was swimming.
no subject
thomas maneuvers himself so he can reach down in the water to catch eddie behind the knees with one of his arms, the other braced across the boy's back between his neck and shoulders, scooping him up with relative ease. he doesn't lift him completely out of the water just yet, using physics and buoyancy to his advantage so he doesn't have to work quite as hard to carry his weight as he makes his way towards the bank. ]
It's okay, [ he says, quiet but reassuring, and actually faintly amused. honestly, "fishing" was getting kind of boring anyway, and while catching an actual person on his line wasn't exactly what he was expecting, he supposes it's better than catching nothing and wasting his time. ideally, eddie probably would have been better off not getting tangled up in fishing wire, but at least thomas is there to help get him out of it. ] It's not a big deal, I wasn't paying attention either. I'm not even sure there's anything to actually catch.
[ besides unsuspecting children, apparently.
the shore isn't far, and once thomas is close enough, he lifts eddie out of the water and sets him down on the bank before hauling himself up and out as well, wiping a hand down over his own face to get some of the rain out of his eyes as he crouches down by eddie's ankles, looking for an easy place to start on the fishing line. ]
Looks like you got caught up kinda tight. Are you hurt?
[ he makes sure to keep his voice quiet, still cautious even in the cover of the rain. ]
no subject
Eddie looks up at Thomas's tone of voice, and a part of him doesn't really need to ask what was amusing about this situation. Now that the panic has passed, Eddie had to admit how ridiculous all of this was, and a small, hesitant smile forms on his face.)
I think there is. You might just be shit out of luck for the day is all.
(He has absolutely no clue what fishing was supposed to be like, so don't listen to him.
There's a tiny noise that escapes Eddie as he's gently deposited onto the bank. He's left blinking a few times and staring up at Thomas. Then he cuts his gaze away to the wire. He shifts his legs around, wishing not for the first time that he still had one of Tetora's knives on him.)
No. (The edge of his shirt had a small dab of blood on it, and he lifts it just a little to show Thomas the tiny cut the hook had left behind.)
It's not bad. I'll just put a bandaid on it. (Physical injuries were the least scary of all injuries. Even though he was mildly worried about what the infection rate of a hook was- but he would sanitize the area thoroughly later. The line wrapped around his legs was pretty tight though, squeezing at him. He closes his calves together in hopes of loosening it up a bit, and it does seem to work.)
This might actually be one of the stupidest accidents I've ever gotten in, just for the record. (Felt worthwhile to point that out. He looks up at Thomas, offering another tiny sort of smile.) Thanks, by the way. For helping. (Even if it was Thomas's line. He could have just let Eddie flail and drown.) I'm Eddie.
no subject
thomas leans just slightly to get a look at the small cut left by his fishing hook when eddie tugs up the hem of his shirt. honestly, he feels pretty bad about it regardless of how minor it is, evidenced by the way the corners of his eyes squint a little in a barely-there grimace. it's hardly anything, and eddie is likely to be fine, but still. ]
Sorry.
[ but he moves on. fortunately for the both of them, thomas came prepared (to fish, not to free a young boy from the tangle of his own fishing line, but still) with a knife tucked away into the makeshift sheath at the base of his spine, slid onto a makeshift belt. he reaches back with one hand, tugging it free, and brings it around to his side slowly, the tip of the knife pointed away from him. something tells him he should be cautious with eddie. ]
Hey, Eddie. I'm Thomas. [ he offers a faint smile, glancing up from the wire wrapped around eddie's legs. carefully, he brings the knife forward, hooking two of his fingers on his free hand underneath some of the fishing line to create a small gap between the line and eddie's flesh. ] I once faceplanted in front of about twenty, thirty boys. Full on run, then right on my face in the grass.
[ he says quietly, glancing up again for a second before he slides the knife in the space between his fingers and the boy's legs. it's an attempt to ease the embarrassment, put them on level ground. ]
I didn't know any of them at the time.
cw: child abuse
(Eddie sounds a tiny bit surprised. It was one thing for someone to say they're sorry, but Thomas both looked and sounded like he meant it on a whole other level. Like he was actually guilty for what he had done to Eddie, and that....
For some reason that makes Eddie fall silent. He winds up staring at Thomas all over again, but this time for a completely different reason. He couldn't begin to remember the amount of times he'd been beaten by Henry. Henry who had snapped his arm, who had beaten his face hard enough to bust his nose, shoved rocks in it until Eddie had felt everything cutting up. There had never been any remorse there. But Thomas hurt him on accident just a teensy bit and...It results in Eddie feeling rather calm as Thomas removes a knife to tackle the line. Eddie might have been scared had Thomas pulled that out even a second prior to his apology, but now, he merely watches it with a detached wonder.
He watches, not sure if he should try and help, so he just sits quietly instead, shivering the teeniest bit. It wasn't quite warm enough out for this. Eddie has no idea how to talk to girls, and he definitely has no idea how to talk to nice older boys.
It isn't until Thomas's story that Eddie finally cracks. His mouth spreads open into an earnest smile and he can't help the laugh that escapes him. It definitely helps ease it. Eddie's mind goes fleeting away from it, and he's left grinning more sincerely at Thomas.)
What, really? But you seem really like-. Athletic? (Like the kind of boy who wouldn't mess up in front of a bunch of people. Not at all like a loser.)
no subject
it's true that thomas is fairly athletic, though some of that comes from the instinct and the need to survive in less than ideal situations than it does from the desire to be in shape. he glances up for a moment, pausing for a second now that his attention isn't focused on the knife in his hands. ]
Sure, I guess. [ he shrugs, glances back down to keep cutting through the fishing line, careful not to nick eddie's skin, ] I was a little disoriented at the time, and scared and confused. Not watching my feet or where I was going.
[ thomas pulls some more of the line away and adds it to the small pile in the grass, shaking his hand slightly to free it from his fingers before he gets back to work on the last bit that's tying eddie's knees together. ]
Anyway— don't feel embarrassed. If anything, you saved me from embarrassment, because now I can actually say I caught something. Nobody has know what I caught.