quietplacelogs | INTRO LOG #1

INTRO LOG #1
Muzzle and Mute
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, a child hugging her leg, and 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.

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.

The Man in the Hat
Content Warnings: Heavy lifting, following the rules, alcoholism
Themes: Moving in, survival, exploration, horror

Once you’ve claimed a room for yourself, it’s time to acclimate to the community. Natives will ask what you need and take you along the sandpaths to different areas in the city to gather supplies - furniture and the like. Heavier items will require assistance and will take longer. Houses are mostly empty so if you and your housemates need something, you’ll have to carry it and put it inside the home. Do not make any noise or the natives will refuse to help you. Getting to know your housemates is key to a smooth transition. They are going through what you are right now; take the time to get to know them. Make house rules.

As the first day gives way to night, the natives can be seen moving at a faster pace outside. They’re hurried, though not frightened. Some even smile at you. When the sun sets behind the ruins of what was once picturesque Reims, your device will signal that it’s time to meet at the center of the community. There, natives will stop each person and give them a small gift - a trinket, a token to show that they are trying their best to make all the new arrivals feel at home. These are all items from the character’s home or from another character's home (they will not be anything that belongs to anyone else). Small, soundless and either something taken during the application process or something brand new. They will have no powers to speak of and are meant to be a momento. If asked, the natives found them the same way they found each of you.

Then the party starts. Sort of. A soundless, stitled kind of celebration. Fun is meant to be had, but it’s not an overly joyous occasion. The natives simply don’t know how to cut loose. There will be extra food in the form of one and two; Phillipa even brought some of her homemade bread. If you stumble across a man wearing a hat, the only man in town who does, and agree to go with him when he offers to show you his house - he’ll gift you with a jar of hooch; it’ll burn on the way down.

Sound Eaters
Content Warnings: Threat, danger
Themes: Survival, exploration, horror, game plot

It’s the second day of your stay, and the natives call for an emergency meeting at the Town Hall. Everyone is paired off (see below) and are asked to walk the perimeter looking for anything out of place and patching any areas that might have been affected by weather. Once finished, the same is done on the inside, and when the community leader is satisfied, the main hall is opened up so that everyone can congregate. Characters, during this time only, are allowed to make sound. This is so that the natives can explain why silence is so necessary...

The Sound Eaters.

In an effort not to frighten everyone, the natives won’t go into the history just yet, but they will warn that when someone makes a sound, it attracts them. They don’t know what they look like because they are so fast. If you’re too loud, then in the blink of an eye, you’ll go through a room reset. This is because either the natives ‘silenced’ you or the Sound Eaters have. They will explain that the room came at the same time the Sound Eaters did and that it doesn’t work for the natives. Sometimes, it doesn’t work on new arrivals. Death, for those born in this world, is permanent. If you attract them, you’ll get someone killed. Hence the need for no noise. During the meeting, the natives will tell each character of their own experiences. Their losses. The families they have left and how they’d do anything to keep them alive. They don’t know if you’ll be reset, but is that a risk you’re willing to take? The meeting will last a few hours and will end on a somber, ominous note - at the end of the month, they are taking everyone to meet them.

OOC
From your mods:

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NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Alex's thought were about the same. Given how the natives did not use a type of coin, one would then have to fall back to ways of bartering. It was much like what happened in Othard, halfway across the world from Eorzea. Foreign goods meant foreign coin. It was a good thing that he was an artisan; otherwise the Scions would have difficulty being independent in their field operations. ]

There's a lot that we have to learn if we are to survive, it seems. But I'm sure we can make it.

[ Her hesitation is noted, but it's not something he wants to comment upon. ]

I'm fine enough. I found that the others I've met were also kind of restless as well, so I was wondering.

[ His expression becomes pensive, shaking his head to clear the hair out of his eyes. ]

i think so, too!
we can teach each other a lot
and i bet the natives won't mind helping out where they can

[She really does believe this, despite everything. Not that she has any intention of staying here forever, of course.....but why get into unnecessary fights, with the natives or anyone else? Discord would only threaten them all.]

yeah
i think we're all going to be kinda sleepless for awhile

[Lys glances up from where she's about to type something else, squints, then points at a nearby building they're steadily approaching — two of the taller windows have shutters hanging at a haphazard angle, bent out of place by weather or maybe just worn down by time and hard use. If a swift breeze flowed in, it would kick up an ugly racket.]

[ The community emphasises on self-sufficiency and cooperation, so it should be fine. Things should, and will work out fine. That's what he believes. Yet the unease will take some time to dispel, if it was even possible. ]

I want to help with that in some way, though I'm not sure how.

[ Alex will return his device to a pocket once she's read his last line, turning his attention to the housing block that she's pointed out to him. The shutters are quite high up, but it shouldn't be difficult for the both of them. Stopping at the foot of the window, he tilts his head to look for a handle.

Now, how to rearrange the shutters without causing too much of a sound? ]

[From where Lys is standing, it looks like at least one of the shutters could simply be guided back into place easily enough, so long as it was properly secured afterward — the hinges oiled, the screws tightened, the latch that keeps each panel from being flung open hooked into place and locked shut. And maybe finding something soft to stuff into the empty spaces to keep the wood from rattling in its frame even the slightest bit.

Struck by a sudden thought, Lys walks around to the porch to snag the paintbrush and oil can that's sitting by the door]

[ Quite the wise decision. When one is in a foreign place, best to follow their tried and practiced method of soundproofing.

Alex will slowly push the loose shutter back into position while Lys grabs the oil can. A good coat should let them slide it back completely, likewise for the latch. The gaps, though... his first thought is cloth, and that he has a few scraps in a pocket.

Fishing them out, he sizes them against the hole. Maybe they need more. ]

[Being able to almost match his height makes it easier to coordinate their movements. While Alex attends to the second shutter, Lys focuses on oiling each and every hinge, gliding the paintbrush silently over metal, holding the paintcan between her teeth by the handle.

Between strokes, she'll notice his scrutiny and eventually pause, looking from him to the shutters and plucking slowly at her jumpsuit with an inquiring expression, hoping he'll get her meaning: maybe they could somehow tear off ribbons of cloth from their sleeves?]

[ Luckily for the both of them, Alex's Echo lets him feel her intentions, albeit dimly. He understands, though getting it to work can be a problem.

He'll nod and quickly rifle through his pockets, turning out his job crystals and a blank handkerchief. There's a key, which he holds out to her - nothing else is sharp enough. ]

[Much as she might sometimes behave like an idiot, always on accident and often obliviously, Lys isn't actually stupid — she just feels that way now and then. Especially right now.

Her eyebrows raise, utterly confused. A...key? She doesn't have a spare hand to accept it, so instead Lys leans in slightly to attempt a closer look. Is it actually even a little sharp? Because if it's dull, then they might as well go into the nearest soundproofed house and use their teeth.]

[ The jagged edge of the key is sharpened, perhaps it could work. He can sense her uncertainty, and it adds to his own as well - tilting his head slightly, he motions to the toothed side and then to his shirt.

It's a guess, and his guess is as good as hers. ]

[She squints at the key for a few moments longer, the confusion fading to make room for a species of grim resignation. There was really nothing else for it, huh? No sword hanging from her belt, no hunting knife in her pocket — even her own teeth wouldn't be of any use. The faintest noise could risk them all.

Still, a key? Really?

......

At least there's a pointy edge to the stupid thing.

Lys shrugs, then nods, setting down the oilcan and taking the key. But she doesn't use it on Alex's outfit, oh no — because after all, her left sleeve has been empty this whole time, dangling free without an arm to fill it. Forced to cant her head at an awkward angle to see what she's doing, Lys starts picking slowly at the fabric's stitches with the key's sharpened point, snapping each thread slowly and silently apart.]

[ She's remarkably skilled for an one-armed person. Her situation had stood out to him immediately, though he's not obtuse enough to ask about it immediately.

If she has problems working with the cloth, he'll offer to hold it for her. Can't just be standing idle around while someone else works, can he? ]

[It takes her a moment to notice any helpful gestures on his part, so focused is she on severing the jumpsuit's sleeve. On not thinking about how doing so might very well leave her stump uncomfortably naked for other people to see and scorn. (Look at the cripple, the weakling, the ugly duckling.) What mattered more was soundproofing every house they could — even at great personal cost.

But she'll look up soon enough, blinking in surprise a few times before agreeably allowing Alex to pull the sleeve slack. It definitely helps the work to go faster; another brief minute of focused effort has the key cutting through the last few threads.]

[ If he could have read her thoughts, he would've felt compelled to try and diminish how she felt about her own perceived weakness. But there's a more important job to be done, and that takes precedence.

Once they're done with removing the cloth, he would give her a smile both of relief and approval. Now they can stuff it in and be done with their work. ]

INTRO LOG #1

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