MOD LOG #3

[bequiet]

MOD LOG #3

Arriving in style
Content Warnings: Fighting, death, violence
Themes: Survival, plot

It's early in the day when it happens. The red dust that seems to be everywhere sweeps through the city streets, mixing with the steady patter of rain and making it hard to see and breathe. All red and leaving the taste of copper if inhaled, what could have been an easy day without any trouble quickly becomes anything but. While those in the community are heading for cover or finding ways to continue on through it, the new arrivals begin waking up in different cities all over the world. There won't be anyone to greet them, and leaving the room through the door is their choice - after doing so, they'll immediately step out into the city they were assigned. The streets are empty, houses abandoned, everything crumbling and in ruins. There will be signs noting their location, which they'll catch a glimpse of before a sharp push forward causes darkness to engulf them.

Waking up for the second time, in Reims but not in the Reset Room, they'll come to inside the red dust as it whips through the streets of the community. They won't be alone for long. Another person will be waking up beside them, and after a few moments of disorientation, try to attack. They might have weapons or use their hands, and they will not stop until they've taken a fatal blow. Their blood is dust, and they, along with their weapons, disintegrate after they've died. Can you stop them on your own? Will someone come to your aid?

The Sight of Lightning
Content Warnings: Poison, sex
Themes: Survival, plot

The day after the storm, the same red dust will find its way through Reims and come into contact with every person. Since the dust is everywhere, some might not notice that it's floating through the community and know that something is off. The effects don't begin until night fall, where everyone will feel the desire to seek out companionship of many different kinds. Though it is not always the case, the people that saw each other in color will "want" to be with that person more strongly than they might already, and will be more likely to confess or do something about it. Some might feel an intense need to be around another person, though not necessarily sexually - almost as if they need that person around them to be happy or content. For some, it might be a desire that can only be fulfilled by more than one person.

The effects wear off the next time the person gets wet. This can be a splash of water across the face or fully submerged. Or even drinking something.

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! The OOC Plotting Post.

NAVIGATION

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Comments

sans the grunting, because grunting could get you killed

[warfares]

[ Startled, his focus shifts immediately from the task at hand to the foot propped against the ladder. Dark brows furrowing as he follows that foot to —

Oh.

Oh. ]

( Frack's sake. ) [ The Supreme Leader of the First Order, everyone.

He bears down on the ladder, using his body weight to keep it from shifting backward and taking him with it. ]

( I can't. )

and there's no laugh track

[purpose]

[ The surprise, fleeting as it is, gives her a twisted sense of satisfaction. That, too, is brief, overpowered by the reaction he's given her. She doesn't know what she had been expecting (what she had been hoping for), but that certainly wasn't it. ]

( You can't, or you won't? )

[ The distinction is an important one. He could, if he wanted; instead, he's chosen to haunt her with his presence, reminding them both of the choice he'd made. ]

( Leaving shouldn't be hard for you. If I remember right, you're quite good at it. )

[ Even if the argument can be made that she physically left him, she can't help but to feel he emotionally chose to leave her first. ]

we'll just have to pretend.

[warfares]

( I could say the same of you. )

[ It's shot back with such bitter hurt, the fingers of his free hand digging into the side of the ladder. He doesn't bother addressing her question — she should know better, know that he's hardly the type to skulk around primitive housing to do maintenance for fun. ]

( Where in the seven Sith Hells have you been? )

[purpose]

[ Defending herself is an option, and one she considers for the briefest of moments. I had to. I didn't want to leave, but you left me no choice. You forced my hand, Ben. In the end, she chooses none of them. As it is, she doesn't owe him any explanation, and she hardly feels that he deserves one.

Getting defensive will always be easy than becoming vulnerable. ]

( I don't know what you're talking about. )

[ Her confusion is sincere, pulsing through her even as she tries to disguise it outwardly. She doesn't know, and while she's at a loss, she doesn't want to play into his hand. ]

( I'm not in the mood for games. )

[warfares]

( Nor am I. )

[ Could she not remember? The information about those that disappeared is, like so much else here, conflicting.

He glances briefly at the lighting fixture, half-mounted, then back at her. Mouth tugging down in a frown. ]

( Dameron claimed you disappeared. )

[ And had lied, clearly.

Anger coils in his muscles as he plucks up the screwdriver again, intending to resume his work. ]

( I searched for you. )

[purpose]

[ I searched for you sends a pang throughout her that she doesn't want to acknowledge, nor examine any deeper. Convincing herself that he had cared enough to chase after her, without the intent to harm, after she'd slammed a physical and metaphorical door in his face would be a mistake.

For the flicker of a second where he isn't looking directly at her, her eyes turn glossy with moisture, but her eyes tear away from his to leave him with only a view of her profile. ]

( You're not making any sense. )

[ Her eyes bore back into him with that reply. His shoulders have turned tense, an angry line coiling throughout him that she can recognize in its familiarity, but it doesn't give her any clue as to how to proceed. ]

( Disappeared from where? )

[warfares]

[ Poe had been vague and unhelpful when it had come to specifics, as seems to be his way. In the end it'd been Artoo who had — after some significant "coaxing" — that had given up her last known location.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he sets the screwdriver against the one arm of the fixture, turning. ]

( What's the last thing you remember? )

[purpose]

( You. )

[ Nothing more, nothing less. The dark scowl that colors her expression hints that it could mean nothing good. Rey's eyes bore into him, as though trying to pierce through him, looking for any sign of a reaction to that one syllable. ]

( You tried to kill me. Don't insult me by pretending you don't remember. )

[warfares]

( I've never lied to you. )

[ He feels more than sees the scowl. Rey's disapproval carries a weight to it that is almost parental in its blend of anger and disappointment. Different from the awkwardness of before, where she had seemed almost ...apologetic.

He continues to turn the screw carefully. ]

( And I've tried to kill you several times. You'll have to be more specific. )

[purpose]

[ You have, she wants to shout, but she settles for letting her disbelief and distrust fester in the air between them. He'd had her believe she meant something, only to turn around and try to end her life the moment he'd had the chance — the biggest lie of all.

But her pang of hurt is nothing compared to the boiling of her anger at his seeming indifference, taken more by the task at hand than her bitter accusations. ]

( You know what you did. )

[ His toolbox clatters to the ground by the invisible force of her own temper. She reigns it in quickly, but not before the damage has already been done. ]

( You knew I was on that ship, and you still tried to blow it out of the sky. )

[warfares]

[ Tensing, he looks first left and right, as if expecting himself to be beset at all sides by some kind of attacker. (It would be just his luck to die so stupidly, mid-task.) When none appear, his attention shifts to the toolbox, its contents splayed across the ground in all its twinkling metallic glory.

He sets the screwdriver down on the topmost step of the ladder and begins his descent. ]

( When? )

[ His thoughts roll back, trying to think of an instance where he could have done what she claimed. Nothing recent comes to mind. And there is something very raw in her accusation. Something personal. ]

[purpose]

[ Later, she'll chide herself for her behavior, mortified at the loss of her temper and the recklessness it's stirred. Now, without the immediacy of any threat (Kylo Ren excluded), she can't see past the blinding red of her fury to feel the sting of her shame. ]

( Crait. )

[ Her frustration bleeds through, irritated at having to spell out what she believes to be obvious. When he begins to descend, it gives way quickly to a flicker of — something. Not quite fear, but apprehension that follows that devastating revelation that she has no reason to trust the man in front of her, sending her stepping back like a skittering, panicked animal. ]

( Stay there. )

[ Away from her, even if she has to suffer through him physically looking down on her to achieve the distance she craves. ]

[warfares]

[ Puzzlement gives way quickly to exasperation when she makes her demand, but he holds his place at least long enough to get out: ]

( I've never been to Crait. ) [ The last memory he has of her, of before, is wrestling over the control of his grandfather's saber. That desperate fear that once she had it, she would leave. ]

[purpose]

[ Some of the tension eases from her shoulders as he heeds her order, but it's minute in the grand scheme. Her stomach still feels like it's tied in knots, churning nauseatingly, as the pieces begin to connect. ]

( I'm not a liar. )

[ But neither is he, in this instance. She can't sense the disturbance that would come from a lie, but she isn't ready to believe the lapse in his memory is true. ]

( Unlike you. )

[warfares]

[ It's her bristling unease that keeps him from moving further, despite the belligerent insistence that he doesn't have to stand around and listen to this. As disappointed as he is by her sudden backslide into anger, this is at least familiar territory. ]

( No. )

[ To both the statement and the accusation. No, neither of them are liarsㅡshe can rail at him all she likes but he will not allow her this. ]

[purpose]

( Yes. )

[ The refusal is stubborn, steeped in denial, but this isn't her first foray into refuting the truth. Her need for emotional self-preservation outranks her need to believe him. ]

( You told me I meant something, and then you tried to kill me like I was nothing to you. Tell me again how that isn't a lie. )

[ A dare in its own way, no matter how certain she is that she doesn't want to hear anything further on the subject. What's done is done. ]

[warfares]

( Because I haven't done it. ) [ He manages to reign in his own temper, remembering that that had been the point where he'd lost her before. ]

( The last thing that I remember of you, of before, was grappling with you for my grandfather's saber. The blade split. I'd thoughtㅡI don't know what I thought. )

[purpose]

( I know what happened. I was there when the blade split. )

[ The statement is almost an interjection, cutting off what she doesn't want to hear. The memory is too fresh for it not to be as clear as crystal, even so; a reminder is, at this point, akin to rubbing salt into an open, gaping, bleeding wound. ]

( You say you haven't done it, but you have. Not remembering it doesn't make it any less true. )

[warfares]

[ His fingers tighten their grip on the ladder, hard enough that the leather creaks. ]

( So. You mean to blame me for something that has yet to occur. )

[ Like his parents.

Like Luke. ]

( How like a Jedi. )

[purpose]

[ And there it is, a reaction that bleeds through any impassive, controlled demeanor he might have otherwise shown her. Before she can feel satiated by that victory, however small, she feels the breath knock itself out of her lungs in furious, indignant disbelief. ]

( It happened. It was real for me. )

[ How could she be expected to forget, to wipe away the memory as though it had been a nightmarish daydream? She scoffs, incredulous, but it gives way to the ferocious need to wound him just as gravelly as he's emotionally injured her. ]

( At least I didn't try to kill someone I claimed to care for. I suppose that makes you more like Luke Skywalker than you thought, doesn't it. You're no better than he is. )

[warfares]

( Take that back. )

[ Rather than the sharp crackle-snap of anger this is something brittle and jagged, cutting past the usual raw spots to the soft beating heart of him. Worse than that, she knowsㅡ

She knows. ]

[purpose]

[ Flaying him open brings her no pleasure. She had thought it would ease some of the ache, but it merely deepens, resounding painfully through her.

At this rate, she can't discern the stormy mess of his emotions from her own scattered, chaotic mix. ]

( You're right. Luke Skywalker admitted his mistakes. You just run from them. )

[ It feels like taking a splinter and digging it further, twisting mercilessly, but her voice still chokes as if she were saying it aloud: frayed, distressed. ]

( He was a better man than you were. )

[warfares]

[ And just like that the tension snaps. Except that rather than an explosive display he merely steps back off the ladder, landing with a muted thump on the soft earth.

He pulls himself up to his full height, shoulders pulling back as he stretches. Controlled, again. Composed.

He bends to gather up the toolbox and its spilled contents. ]

( I'll send someone to finish the job. )

[ Given that that person is Margo, house seven can expect to enjoy glitch-y wiring and malfunctions in the future. ]

[purpose]

[ Something close to disappointment curdles in her stomach, now than an outlet for her frustration has been torn away from her. Her stomach drops out from beneath her, but she ignores it with a grimace. ]

( Running like usual. I shouldn't have expected anything else from you. )

[ Childish and spiteful, she can't resist having the final say, taking her leave of him on her own terms. Rey won't be the one that has to face a turned back if she can help it, certain she wouldn't be able to stomach the sight of someone else walking away from her — leaving her behind, once again — without crumbling. ]

( Stay away from this house. )

[ And with that, she turns before the moisture in her eyes has a chance to dampen her cheeks further, stomping a path back into the house in question. ]