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quietplacelogs2018-01-31 08:31 pm
bequiet) wrote in quietplacelogs2018-01-31 08:31 pm
MOD LOG #1
MOD LOG #1
Packing Up
Content Warnings: General tension
Themes: Survival, exploration, heavy-lifting
At the end of the month, the natives send out a mass message informing everyone of the upcoming trip to 'meet' the Sound Eaters. Preparing for the trip is simple, though labor intensive, and begins with making certain that everyone packs food, water, clothes, gear, and a twenty-pound package of sand. When it's time for the journey to begin, those tasked with watching the sandpaths, will lead the party on the journey towards the Eiffel Tower. It's a slow trip, a careful one. Natives will take breaks every few hours and when the sun sets, help everyone to set up their bed rolls around a few lanterns. The natives will unveil the star mapping feature, with constellations named and general history attached, on the devices. They will encourage those to tell stories, get out food and water, and 'talk' amongst the group before everyone settles into sleep. Out, under the night sky, the silence is more noticeable - there are no crickets or frogs. This process will repeat for two days until the group reaches the end of their destination at midday.
Sound Eaters
Content Warnings: Disorientation, confusion, character and native death, Sound Eater birth and death, body horror
Themes: Survival, exploration, horror, death
On the third day, characters will finally reach the Eiffel Tower, where the Sound Eaters in this area of France have set up their 'home'. Stopping far enough out to allow for communication, the natives will gesture to the ruins of the structure that appears to be altered. Structures are built up and around the metal frame, closing off different sections with a dark material that glints an oily-green in the light. After explaining that the Sound Eaters are influenced by the weather, rain being an issue for them, they'll take everyone closer. Silence is key here. The natives are visibly wary, tense, and uncomfortable but they believe that showing the arrivals what they're so afraid of will inspire them to be more cautious.
Now, as close to the Sound Eaters as they dare to go (less than a half mile), the natives will have everyone crouch down behind various cars and debris. The devices will say only one word, watch. As the sun begins to set and clouds darken overhead, the tower will open up, the Sound Eaters spilling out. They are split up, as the natives refer to it, into classes - the young, the shifting and the matured. The young are extremely sensitive to sound, volatile and aggressive, humanesque in form with features in various state of change. The shifting are grotesque, splitting and reforming, changing from young to matured in a shift that is punctuated by pained screams and the breaking of bones, splitting of flesh. The matured are in control. They command and guide their kind into a circle, where they all bend down, kneeling as something different than the rest comes out of the tower to stand at the center. The wind catches, dusting up red ash from it and blowing the ash towards the group - there's no way to move and it tastes familiar, coats your skin in red. They all grow quiet and a wrapped form, in the shape of a body, is placed at the Sound Eaters' feet. It crumbles, breaks apart and sprays out over the wrapped figured to completely cover it.
The shards of the Sound Eater bubble up and fuse together, creating a shell. Rain begins to fall. Light, but enough to cause the Sound Eaters to begin to move, pushing against one another but not leaving the circle. There's a shrill sound, an offbeat whistle, air escaping a tight space, a desperate inhale, and then the shell at the center splits apart. A Sound Eater died to create a new life. Smaller than the other young, the 'child' climbs up and out, but it's not the same as the others. It's form is generally human. Dark hair, androgynous features. No eyes. No mouth. Standing, it angles its head towards the matured and they move, as if on command, and surround it as it walks into the tower.
( If anyone makes noise at this point, in any way, the coming bad weather and what just occurred, will result in the Sound Eaters only attacking that person - rather than the whole group. They'll drag that person into the tower and out of sight. The character will be reset. )
The natives are upset. Spooked. They've never seen anything like that and they're quick to tell everyone this, followed by a hasty message to leave. As they're moving, the rain begins to beat down and the ground grows slippery. Making it back to the supplies is troublesome and just as the group gets close, one of the natives slips and tumbles down broken concrete, twisting and smacking against the hard surface until they come to a stop at the bottom. Anyone that goes to help will find that the native has hurt themselves and there's nothing that can be done, despite best efforts. The natives will take the time to wrap their friend up, relaying that the Sound Eaters don't attack now that the rain is heavy, and will begin the slow trek back to the community. They'll camp each night, the same as the trip up, but with an uncomfortable tension that no amount of story telling can break.
It's Raining Me- Rain. It's Just Water.
Content Warnings: None
Themes: Survival, fun, noise-making
After everyone is back in Reims, the natives will split off to bury their dead - they will not allow anyone to accompany them. Everyone is encouraged to head back to the community to get a break from the bad weather and to unload their supplies. The following day, the natives can be heard outside. Splashing and making noise, fixing houses, and what might have been a somber event will quickly turn into something a little more upbeat as rain beats down on the city. Children will play and occasionally laugh, stunted in their ability to enjoy themselves but willing to learn from the arrivals. Bigger items will be moved and natives will encourage everyone to do the 'noisier' things that they need to do. When the rain ends, work will resume as usual and soundproofing will be a lot more difficult - the water washed away sandpaths and damaged some areas. Cleaning up will take time but the natives aren't as unhappy with the situation as they just had a moment's respite from the normal tension of their everyday lives.
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.
v
she pauses and jogs in place when she sees Mr. Rummy carrying-- she can't quite tell what he's got there, not while his bulky jacket blocks the silhouette of the object through the rain. a bucket? something bigger?]
Oy! Need a hand?
i was just gonna hit u up for more of them yessss
Thanks, [ he murmurs after a minute, remembering belatedly that he can speak aloud and doesn't have to sign. can't anyway with his hands full. ]
then i died but weekend revived me (ง •̀_•́)ง
where is he going, anyway? she's not actually sure where this guy lives, much less how his face got fucked up again. oh, well. either his brother is here too, or, she guesses... that's just something that happens to him?]
yes good go fight win
They get you anything good? [ the natives. it hadn't escaped his notice that he wasn't the only one who had gotten swag upon returning from the camping trip. come to think of it, he's not even sure if she was on the trip. ]
no subject
her eyebrows knit together a little at his question until she follows the logic behind it-- oh, he means the natives. and she certainly does have an unsettling answer for that question.]
My tools. Don't know why they turned up in that room, but everything looked just like I left it.
You, too?
[was there some kind of resource party while they were all away?]
no subject
I got wine. [ which is an open invitation for her to have some btw. ]
sorry for late tag, feel free to drop if needed <3
No power tools, though. I guess even if the people here had found'em, they wouldn't have given them to me.
[the thought of not being able to use her power tools here even if she had them still makes Jan angry and frustrated. the images of the Sound Eaters rise up in her mind. for the moment and to Jan, they're not monsters, they're assholes who won't let her use her favorite toys.
she doesn't drink as much as some of the guys she knows, but the offer of wine is flattering when she recognizes what it is, and her face lights up in her quick smile.]
Oh-- nice. Is it good stuff? Everyone I know drinks craft beer. They go on at each other for hours, sometimes.
nah it's cool i'll always backtag!!
I was just happy to get my knife back. [ he hadn't felt like himself without it or his boots. it's amazing how the two seemingly innocuous items make him feel whole again. ] I think it's good shit. I don't really know dick about wine though.
no subject
but... no. she can't help but feel like she knows how to deal with this particular Hazard Number One. she feels comfortable with him. "I don't really know dick about wine" sounds like something she'd say.]
Here I was thinking you were a lawyer. Drinkin' all fancy with dinner.
[lawyers definitely get in knife fights.]
no subject
Fat fucking chance. [ he turns around and sits on the edge of his cot, almost huffy even as he pulls out an already open bottle of wine and hands it up to her. ]
no subject
Nah, maybe not. I didn't see a sign out front that said you'd charge a hundred fifty to sit with your thumb in your ass.
[she took a swallow of the wine instead of commenting further, walking over to investigate the boxing ring and the skull decoration. nice. not like some kind of fucked up cult setting that someone built in an abandoned garage at all. she wonders what his pro wrestling name would be. if she was a pro wrestler, she'd definitely want her nickname to be Cleanout.]
Nice place.
no subject
Sorry, got a friend who's a lawyer. That goes about as well as you'd expect. [ he takes the bottle for a swig of his own. he turns back to the ring and accepts her praise with a nod even if it's unserious. he doesn't much care what people think of his impromptu fight club. ] Yeah. You fight?
no subject
Ha--! Hell no. My dad would kick my ass if I got into that shit. He's always telling me to keep my nose clean. It looks like you're going to run a gang out of here or something.
[she wrinkles hers at Frank, guessing he at least knows the type she's talking about when she mentions her dad. not that she's ever had to worry about that -- she doesn't exactly go looking around for the kind of trouble her dad is talking about. just her own, very unique kinds of trouble, she remembers with a rueful grin.
her last statement wasn't really confrontational, just honest. YOU'RE A SKETCHY DUDE, NAMELESS WINE DRINKER!]
I lift, though. You got any weights? I just got a new Planet Workouts membership before all this happened. Now I must look like one of those assholes who never shows up.
no subject
Sounds like a good guy. [ her dad. he's heard so many horror stories about parents in this place he's happy to just have a normal story about a dad like he used to be. protective, maybe a little strict. he shrugs. ] Just teaching kids self-defense. And maybe blowing off some steam.
[ it's his turn to snort, grateful he hadn't taken his sip yet. he does that before responding. ] Sure I could turn somethin' up for you. You lift heavy?
no subject
Yeah, he is.
[Jan brightens a bit at the praise for her dad. she'd agree with "good guy" in a heartbeat. Matt Douglas taught her how to hold a wrench and when not to swear; there's nothing more you can ask for in a father, as far as she's concerned.
she's pretty aware that she's lucky in her family. she'd have felt that way even without all the people who'd told her, you're lucky you ended up where you did. what if they'd left you where you came from? she still felt that way, even though it was in spite of them instead.]
I benched around 120 when I was really working on it, senior year of high school. Then I started working full time and got too busy. I was kinda looking forward getting back into it.