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

and then i died immediately after

[clussy]

(There are literally no words to describe the exact feeling that burst into his chest the moment nodded his head. Eddie's hands squeeze around his device and he covers his mouth with it as if it would stop all the emotions inside of him from bursting out. His eyes stung, growing shinier and shinier until he had to blink rapidly to keep everything held back.

There was...There was someone else just like him.

Similarly, he had spoken to Clara, also an incredibly kind and wonderful woman. But she too, like Kara, was from a world beyond theirs, a world that was casual and accepting. A world that Eddie could honestly not wrap his mind around. It was an entirely different culture. They could offer their sympathies, but with Will, there was nothing but empathy rooted between them.

He had never in all his life imagined he'd find a boy his age exactly like him. And he knew the eighties weren't all that great either. Richie had been good enough about it when he first told his friend, but Eddie was almost positive it was because they were friends that it hadn't bothered Richie as much as it might have had it been someone else. After all, Richie had stopped talking to him after the night of the red juice, so maybe it did bother him a little.

Then there was just Will. A boy he had felt flustered around and had wanted to pull in and experience on a whole other level. He hadn't lied when he said he wanted to make Will laugh. Will who was soft and good in a way that Eddie just had never really experienced. For all of Eddie's own gentleness, he was covered in barbs and sharp edges.

Eddie finally makes a move. His device gets slipped away and he closes the remaining distance between them. His arms lock around Will in an impossibly tight hug and he buried his face into Will's next. His own shuddery breath leaves him, and his hands grab at fistfuls of Will's shirt.

He wasn't alone. Not anymore.)

i cry and my tears are tiny gay boys

[deadboywalking]

[Even after what Eddie's just -- confessed, acknowledged, admitted -- said, Will freezes a little when the other boy moves forward. Boys aren't supposed to touch, they're not supposed to hug or hold hands or be close the way little kids can. They're not, and it makes him feel so damn lonely, because he wants that, for reasons that don't just have to do with that, but he's so hyper cautious about every movement, every word, every look that lasts a little too long.

But then Eddie hugs him and it's so good. It's nothing but good. It's like settling into a place he didn't know he was looking for, like a puzzle piece, like the last color added to a painting that makes the rest of it complete. It's so good that Will can't imagine feeling this relieved, this seen and known can be anything wrong.

So he clings on back as tight as he can, chest aching like it's been torn open, raw and tender and free for the first time in his entire life.]

oops

[clussy]

(Eddie holds on tight and for a long, long while. Long enough to forget that he shouldn't be holding a boy like this in public. They felt isolated enough that it was okay. The effects of that color thing were running high on him and only made his current emotions feel so much stronger.

It's that color spell that gets his brain steaming. Because...Well.

Eddie gently pulls away from the hug, and moves his hands to rest on Will's shoulders. He stares at Will with a peculiar look on his face. He glances over to the opening of the alley and stares for some time. No one is walking by. Nothing. He turns his head back around to stare at Will, contemplating, and then finally decides it's worth it. If only even for an act of belonging. That and maybe...Maybe...

He leans in and presses his lips against Will's cheek and just against the corner of Will's own mouth. It's not one of those chaste, quick kisses given to relatives or mothers. It's a warm press, that lingers for long enough to be something more, and then he breaks the kiss and leans back. His whole face was now bright red, and he's quick to shove his hands into his pockets, his stomach squirming like a live wire.

He had given kiss cheeks before. He gave them all the time to Bill because that was his brother. But with boys like Richie and Will, the kisses were always different. The last time he had kissed Richie had dangerously toed some sort of line that shouldn't have ever been toed. He might of done that a little with Will now, but there was something empowering about the idea of kissing another boy especially with this shared knowledge between them. Eddie felt a little bit like he could take on anything right then.)

[deadboywalking]

[Once upon a time, in a time slightly in the future that Will doesn't know about, hasn't seen yet, he shuffles awkwardly around a dance floor with someone else's hands on his shoulders, forcing a grim smile and trying not to see Mike out of the corner of his eye, leaning in and kissing Eleven. Somewhere else, Lucas does the same thing with Max, and Will doesn't have to see it to know that the same thing is expected of him. He'll pull away, he'll make some excuse, wait for his friends to get bored with dancing so he can surround himself with them, forget about the taste of envy, metallic and bitter at the back of his throat.

He'll try not to think about how, when he closes his eyes, wishes he was the one being kissed, that he sees himself in Eleven, in Max's places. Mostly the former. It'll haunt him almost worse than the Mind Flayer does, every time he sees them pairing off, two by two.

It's a future Will doesn't know he has, but one he could easily guess at. It's the only one that's ever existed for him.

Except right now Eddie's kissing him. Right now Eddie's mouth is pressed to the corner of his own and Will wants to scream and Will wants to cry and Will wants to laugh, even if it kills him. It's one of those half-moments that should have music playing during them, something bright and swelling and triumphant. Violins and drums and brass and strings, building and building and exploding.

Instead it's silent, and Eddie is red-faced with his hands in his pockets and it's so much. Will can't say anything, can't do anything but reach out, grab for Eddie's hands, wanting to hold onto him for as long as possible.]

[clussy]

(In a far off future that Eddie has seen, he's married to some overwhelming woman who looks and acts just like his mother. A woman he doesn't love, a woman he can scarcely stand up to and who makes his hypochondria so much worse by keeping it in his bed, close to his psyche. In that far off future, he's miserable and alone in ways that he had never known were possible. That future that had sat so wrong on his shoulders months ago, that he hadn't been able to understand fully because back then, he hadn't been honest with who he was.

It's almost as bad as his horrid grave, forgotten and abandoned by so-called friends. Bled out and vacantly staring at the walls of the home of their childhood tormentor.

That future left no room for boys who would smile at Eddie in a way that Ben would smile at Beverly. In that future, there was no love that had ever been burned for him nor love he had ever set alight himself.

This is the very first time in his entire life that Eddie has pressed open that part of himself and let some light inside. The first time that he chose to make this a Good Thing and not just something disgusting and awful. Kissing Will wasn't sinful. Nothing that felt so light and warm could ever be wrong, and it hit him in the gut.

It wasn't a thought that would stay forever. No. But it was the makings of an idea that would eventually, in his distant future, settle itself over his shoulders and make itself at home there if he had the chance to grow into this boy who would let himself love who he wanted. If he let himself be loved in return by the people he desperately wanted to love him.

Will grabs his hands and there's this violent sort of pull inside of Eddie. A rightness fills him up and he didn't feel a lick of awkwardness or wrong-doing. His face broke out into one of the most honest smiles he has ever given, and he neatly slides their fingers together.

Home is where you go to die. Home is where you couldn't tell the difference between your mother's arms around your neck from the chain around your ankle.

Was it so?

Because right then, Eddie thought maybe he had always been wrong. Home was the inviting space between Will's fingers and the warmth flourishing over his face. Home was where he felt safest tucked up against Jake's chest after a particularly bad nightmare, or where Clara's fingers slid through his hair to neaten it out. Home didn't need to be his grave. It could be...Everything. His entire chest felt shaky with emotion, and he could feel his eyes start to water and then all at once, shamefully, he could feel the tears spill over. But he was still smiling, beaming even, and he drops his head forward against Will's shoulder, just letting himself exist for once without some looming shape of guilt hanging over him.)