quietplacelogs | MOD LOG #1

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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.

NAVIGATION

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[She follows him and sits on one of the steps. This is...really awkward. Do people just sit around and talk about personal things when there's nothing better to do? Maybe they just need more chores.

Rey pulls an awkward face and mimics chiseling tally marks onto her AT-AT.]

I made tallies, every evening after I received my rations.

[There's a part of her that wonders what he must think about all of this, if he's pieced things together or if he's just too kind to not bother asking.]

[ he nods after a minute, turning his face up into the sky and enjoying the way the rain feels on his skin. he's going to get cold any minute, he knows, but this is still a refreshing and welcomed change. ]

Remember doing the same, in Kandahar. Living in bunkers, just glorified caves really. [ frank shrugs, turning to her. he remembers what 19 was like. he was freshly enlisted and had the whole world ahead of him. ] We couldn't talk to our families, not even to say when we'd be back because we never really knew.

[ it might be just gibberish to rey. poe hadn't really understood him when he spoke about his service. but the concepts are the same. maybe it's why he shares it with her instead of someone else who just might piece his story together. ]

[She doesn't know what or where Kandahar is. But she understands the concept of wanting family and home, and it being so important to you because you can't have it. The not knowing she identifies too, and that's why she sympathizes with what he says even if she doesn't fully understand it.]

I think I was five when my parents sold me. Maybe six.

[Her eyes look away and stare out at the rain straight ahead rather than at him. He's the first person besides Kylo Ren that this has even come up, and it's a big step in her accepting her past and moving on from it.]

I always thought they'd come back for me. They never did. The not knowing why was always the hardest part.

[She pushes herself to stand, so she can walk over to the edge of the porch. Her hand reaches out and she collects rain in her palm, smiling slightly at the feel of it pooling and pouring over.]

Edited 2018-02-07 03:52 (UTC)

[ there it is. her parents sold her fuck. maybe he had gotten his children killed, but only ever by trying to do the right thing. only because he loved them more than life itself. he takes in a sharp breath, having a private fantasy of popping each of their heads off. rey was a good girl, she deserved better than that. but frank knows that's not how it works.

he watches her get up and move to the other side of the porch. he remains where he is, drenched limbs dangling off the edge. ] Forget them. You don't owe them a damn thing. [ it comes out angrier than he means it to, his teeth clenching and face pinching tellingly. people who throw away what he'd give anything to have back are the worst kind of evil. ]

Jokes on them anyway. Look at you. [ all superpowers and shit. come on. seriously, they suck. ]

[The anger in his voice surprises her. In turn, it stokes her own fury, and she turns so he can see her glare.]

Don't you dare say that!

[She rushes forward in anger, only to stop herself when she's standing right over him. Her hands are balled into fists and her chest heaves with her conflicting emotions. It's not his fault her past is what it is, and he doesn't know that his words upset her. Still,
her eyes hold rage and her teeth grind together.

Look at you, his words echo in her mind and calm her. He's trying to be kind. Her anger fizzles out and she's left just standing there awkwardly.]

Look at me. Jumping straight to anger instead of listening to reason.

[ frank just watches her, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit when she gets close, but he doesn't shrink back. maybe if she strikes out it will help her release some of the tension she holds in her frame; he wouldn't hold it against her. but neither does it surprise him when she stops herself. ]

Anger's normal. Anger's healthy. [ spoken like a true healthy man mcsalad over here. ] They left you. It's okay to be mad about that.

Fuck, I am. [ and objectively? he doesn't even really know her. ]

You don't even know me.

[Her words echo his thoughts, and serve to confuse the hell out of her. Why does a man that barely knows her get angry on her behalf, but she can't bring herself to admit she loathes her parents for what they did? She can't do it. Not yet.

All she can feel is a general anger and hopelessness. That sense of being lost isn't gone. It only feels deeper now that it's exposed.]

What makes you care so much? How can you stand it?

[She drops down to sit next to him and acts as stoic as possible so she won't cry. There's no crying in ~~baseball~~ having emotions with each other.]

Maybe I do, maybe I don't. You helped me and my friend even though we don't know each other.

[ which is big for him. he watches her sit the same way he'd watched her get up. with a quiet interest that hints at absolutely no judgment. frank castle could never judge anyone, let alone a girl who had been abandoned only to become extraordinary in her own right. frank's gaze darts downward quickly when she asks him that, looking at his knees. how can he care so much? well. ]

I was a father once. [ before it was stolen from him, ripped away like her chance of family life. ]

[Once.

He was a father. Clearly, now he isn't. Rey isn't going to press on that because there's already too many emotions in the air right now. The last thing she wants is for him to cry or something because she won't be able to handle it.]

I helped Faith because it was the right thing to do.

[And maybe that's part of why she secretly cares about others. It's the right thing to do. Because she's good at heart, beneath all the rough edges.]

I'll do it again, if I have to.

[ he lets out a shuddering breath, grateful she doesn't ask in a lot of ways. but also... not. sometimes the saddest part about losing them is that no one else will ever know how amazing lisa and frank jr. really were. but this is about her now and as ever it's easy to shove his own baggage aside for someone else's, especially if it seems heavier. ]

That's usually something parents teach you. [ he nods, locking eyes with her again, the tiniest of wan smiles tracing his face. that she's becoming this amazing woman on her own is impressive to him okay. he can't help it.

and after all he'd discussed with poe... he still hates that he got her involved. but he knows, especially with the tone of her voice, that she doesn't regret what happened in his garage. sometimes it's near impossible, with text, to know if you truly understand anything or not. frank has never been much for talking, never put much stock in it at all, and yet here? in this place, even he's struggling to get by without verbal clues. ]

I hope you don't have to. [ and yet he'd call on her again, if he had to. ]

[The look she gives him is completely amused. ]

Don't get ahead of yourself yet.

[She's just resigned herself to a life of having to fight men that are power hungry. It's not that big of a deal, she'll manage just fine. But she worries about him since he seems so...normal. He knocked Faith out and carried her, sure. But his face is always all beat up and she worries about him. Even more so now that she knows he lost his children somehow.

The urge to ask him about them rises again, and she squashes it down. Instead, she taps her foot against his.]

We should go inside. It's getting cold just sitting out here.

[ he smiles, both for her (admittedly not very happy) sentiment as well as the way her foot taps against his big boot. god, he missed his boots. it's such a simple thing but he's so happy to have them back. he feels more like himself every minute he wears them.

her suggestion is a solid one and so he's getting up, spine racked by a tiny shiver as he gets to his feet. he remembers maria calling him and the kids inside on snow days. you'll catch your death. he'd made fun of her for sounding like her mom. ]

My house is closer. [ a justification though really he's thinking about the case of wine the natives had brought him. rey might not be old enough to drink, but she's old enough to enlist. that's good enough for frank. it isn't like she could forget where his house is so he merely stuffs his hands in his pockets and heads in that direction. when he reaches the garage door, instead of checking the hinges he throws open the door noisily. god that felt good.

his fight room has been upgraded, it would seem. a huge silent-proofed boxing ring sitting in the middle of it. there's a muslin dummy for punching and hand rolls in a pile on the floor. he walks past all of it, including the giant skull he'd painted on the wall, throwing back the curtain to his teeny bedroom with equal force. there's a single person cot where he doesn't sleep and a small bookshelf with a bouquet of dried up peonies on the top. he beelines for the box of swag the natives gave him, pulling out a wine bottle full of pink liquid and lifting an eyebrow as if to ask her if she's interested, his sopping wet clothes dripping across the floor seemingly unnoticed by him. ]

[His house, her own, she really doesn't care. So she follows him back into the place where they had held Faith hostage together, and the atmosphere without a kidnapping victim in the room makes everything feel less intense. Even the skull on the wall doesn't bother her now, and she glances over at it on her way over to his tiny bedroom area. It's the sort of space she's used to having, so she seems right at home as she finds a corner of the room to stand in.

Then he's offering her a bottle and her eyebrows arch in return. She hasn't ever drank anything so pink before, but she can't say it's unwelcome. As she reaches out to take the bottle from him, her own fabric wrapped arms drip water all over the floor. She doesn't seem to even notice it. They're basically both just Pigpen from Snoopy rn. ]

What is it?

[She takes a moment to look the bottle over. ]

[ while she's looking over the label he's just going to throw a few towels over the floor over his muslin covering so they can drip dry or something. he's too lazy to fix this more permanently yet, though he does strip off his coat after a minute and his boots laying them neatly in the far corner.

he sits in just his wet jumpsuit and socks, lifting up the pant leg to reveal a short knife and drawing it before motioning for her to give back the bottle so he can remove the cork. ] Wine. A friend of mine's favorite. [ or at least, that's the least awkward way of describing her. ]

[Oh, he's stripping. That makes her pause and look away, until she's certain he's not getting totally undressed. One man's bare chest per month is all she can handle. When he speaks she glances his way, just in time to see he wants the bottle back. She hands it over, feeling a giddy rush of excitement.]

It's been years since I've had actual wine.

[And yeah she probably looks like a childish loser who gets excited over dumb things like drinking but when you struggle to even get water, having alcohol of any kind is a rare luxury.]

Where did you get it?

[ he cuts the foil away from the cork and stabs it, twisting the knife and neatly removing the corkscrew in a few seconds time. frank doesn't think it's childish that she's excited for an indulgence when he can tell she's lived a life devoid of them. which might be part of the reason why he hands over the bottle for her to christen. ]

The Natives left it for me. And fixed up this whole place.

[She nods in understanding, debating whether or not to reveal what the natives provided her with. She's still a little suspicious of it all, but after taking a long first drink from the bottle all that seems to be forgotten. Or just not as important, because she's smiling a little as she takes another swig.

The bottle's handed over to him then, and she wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand.]

They gave me an entire house. One that's just for me. I never knew people could have so much space all to themselves.

[ he takes a long swig from the bottle when it's offered to him, letting out a contented breath. her descriptor gets something of a wan smile out of him, remembering how it had felt to burn the house down he'd shared with his family. he's suddenly grateful not to have that much space to think. ] What're you gonna do with it? [ the space. he takes another shorter drink before handing the bottle back, licking his lips. ]

[She takes the bottle and is grateful for the space of silence taking a few drinks gives her. Her head is starting to feel a little fuzzy, so she takes a guzzling drink in order to try and push that feeling further along.]

I don't know. I hate having more than I need.

[She finally answers his question, shoulders slumping.]

I'll turn most of it into a workshop. The rest can be Artoo's space for all I care.

If you want help, I'm... [ a pretty good pack mule etc etc. but then she says a name he doesn't recognize. ] Uh. Artoo?

[Ah, that makes her face light up with a smile. Before she can explain though, she has to take another drink. ]

He's a droid, a dear friend. I last saw him back on my ship, so I'm not sure how he managed to make it here.

[Apparently intoxicated Rey thinks the Falcon is hers now.]

I could introduce you, if you like.

You've got your own ship? And... robot? [ that's what he got out of that. he shrugs a little helplessly at the suggestion, taking the bottle back from her and taking a swig. ] Sure. Is he like the android guys here?

It's not mine exactly.

[But she doesn't want to get into the finer details of Han Solo's death. So she focuses on Artoo. Keeping the bottle in one hand so she can keep drinking, she motions for him to follow her.]

I'll show you. It's easier than trying to explain. Come on.

[ o-oh okay. right now, then. frank nods, handing her the bottle before going to find a dry jacket. he throws her one first before locating the one he wants, pulling it on and buttoning it up before pulling the hood over his head. next he changes his socks and stuffs his feet back into his combat boots, lacing them up with practiced ease. when he's ready he waits for her to lead the way, gesturing as he takes the bottle back and takes a swig for the road. ]

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MOD LOG #1

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