INTRO LOG #2

[bequiet]

INTRO LOG #2
Put a Sock in It
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 – with or without the help of those who have come before you.

The Place Inside
Content Warnings: Disorientation, hallucinations, body horror
Themes: Plot, exploration

Have you been to hell. And more importantly, have you been back. We all know this pain but are too scared to recall. This horror controls us, pulls at our strings to ensure how our life plays out. So, let me rephrase my question: have you been to Ile Lacrox. And more importantly, can you come back.

In the community, if you hear something you're not supposed to hear, you learn to look the other way. If you see something you're not supposed to see, you pretend it never happened. If you feel disappointed, you learn to never ask for more. So, through good times and bad, famine and feast, the natives held fast to their rules until one common day a sly wind blew in from the south...

That same red dust twists through the streets, curling up in faint, little plumes of familiarity. The farther south you go, the thicker it becomes. Those willing to explore far enough will find it coming from an island in the middle of the river. Once there, doting every available surface is the evidence of Sound Eater births, and the closer you are to the island, the harder it is to avoid being coated in red. Even if it's not rubbed into the skin, it doesn't take long for the effects to take over. Every sound is amplified. Your breaths are deafening, the slightest step echoes. But no Sound Eater attacks. Your vision blurs, and it's as if your mouth is sealing itself shut. Those you traveled with seem to be similarly affected, and you know you have to be quiet. Anyone who brought supplies with them might discover that a drink of water subdues the symptoms.

OOC: Only characters who entirely submerge themselves in water will be free of the dust effects. Just remember that noise will attract Sound Eaters.


Liplocked
Content Warnings: Violent tendencies, mind alteration
Themes: Love, romance, obsession, sex

The natives are of French origin, and with that comes a love of romance. Residents will find treats and valentines at their doors. That same night, there will be a small, red-glowing fire built near the fountain. There will be jars pressed into the dirt and filled with a sweet, red liquid. Some natives can be seen drinking it and being very affectionate with one another. Anyone who drinks this is inspired to show endearment or lust to others, and it will wear off after sleeping.

There's also the noticeable addition of a new arrival. They came through the Reset Room just like everybody else. They understand the rules and follow them to a tee. They are the perfect example of what the natives want in their residents. They are charming and captivating. They say nothing, and they don't have to. When your eyes meet, you feel seduced. There's a nervous flutter in your stomach. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Pounding, constricting. They smile and then turn away.

As they're walking, you notice you're not the only one looking at them, and in their expression, you see your own mirrored. What started as sweet infatuation and longing dissolves into a jealousy unlike any you've ever known. All you understand now is that to win their affections you have to come out on top—so you're the only one they see. Your actions are not your own, but they're still yours.

OOC: There are two ways to break the "spell". Your character fights it out with someone else who is feeling the same way OR they're approached and physically touched by someone who isn't affected by the newcomer. A third of the community will be completely unaffected (everyone else is affected unless the player is uncomfortable with playing out the scenarios). The newcomer can be of any gender the player wishes. For those partaking in drinking, the players can choose what effects it has; it can inspire feelings of lust or boost paternal/maternal instincts or devotion towards friends.

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!

NAVIGATION

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Comments

[justbeingknife]

It'd probably go over better if I could hear anyone speakin' French.

[ As it was, it was like slinking about a ghost town. To that last, he paused, giving Erik an appraising look. There were two ways to take that question... but men weren't this straightforward.

Not in his world, anyway, where posturing and violence served as armor, and reputation was everything. Where a hint of weakness could end with a bullet in the back.

(Then again, he was a foreigner.) ]

...couldn't call myself a gentleman if I answered that, could I?

[spalt]

Would that make it easier for you?

[Erik could speak French fluently. If they were inside a soundproofed room, then he might have taken this as an opportunity to show it.]

Does that matter to you?
Appearing to be a gentleman.
What if present company didn’t require it?

[The effects of his drink have long since dulled any trepidation he might have felt expressing interest in a man. It’s not that he’d be bothered by it. Erik had larger concerns than that, but it’s not something he’d be so overtly blunt about.]

[justbeingknife]

[ Something in Majima's eye darkened almost imperceptibly in answer. He didn't type out a response, but he did put out a hand, grab Erik by the front of his dumb jumpsuit, and pull him in close. Not that there had been a whole lot of distance left between them at this point.

Majima was a practiced kisser, firm but not rough. Not yet, anyway. And while he usually preferred getting to know a guy first, something had slipped inside him recently -- a fraying of the taut, biting leash on which he kept everything he had to conceal to slip into civilian life.

Or maybe it was just the drink.

Either way, unless Erik did something, he was going to break off after a couple of seconds, back off a centimeter or two. Still kissing distance, but with a scrutinizing cast to his expression. ]

[spalt]

[There were certain acts that didn’t require conversation or much discussion.

Body language would fill in the necessary gaps. Answer unasked questions. An observant man, like himself, wouldn’t need to speak. One hand curls at Majima’s collar, holding the fabric of his jumpsuit. The other slides the device into his pocket as he’s kissed.

Firm. Not rough but not soft and sweet.

Over entirely too soon. He raises a brow, why did you stop? And then he tugs the man closer to resume the kiss. Erik isn’t gentle, teeth nipping at Majima’s lower lip. His now free hand drags around Majima’s neck, twists in the ends of his hair.]

[justbeingknife]

[ It registered, somewhere in the back of Majima's mind, that they were still in a public setting. That there were others engaged in meaningful glances, in embraces -- each absorbed in their own little entanglements. That's me, came the thought, as if from an impossible distance. That's what I'm doing.

He took the implicit invitation to slip Erik significantly more tongue this time around, responding to the nipping once with a flash of his teeth (a grin?) and then with a series of kisses along the side of Erik's jaw that ended with a brief puff of air at the shell of his ear. ]

Wonder if ya like to bite.

[ he mouthed, before hooking a thumb over the front of Erik's collar. An expert tug exposed a sliver more of the smooth skin underneath. ]

the beginnings of nsfw

[spalt]

[Erik wasn't so set in his ways that he couldn't appreciate the thrill of experimenting, of learning something new with a person he's only just met. He doesn't care that people see. If it begins to bother him, they'll leave or he'll express his distaste in another way.

He tips his head back, slightly to one side.] Do you like being bitten?

[He mouths back. They'd have to alter their positions if that was what Majima wanted. Erik was amenable to switching, to taking a more dominating role. However, the noise issue was something that failed to slip his mind. He wouldn't risk either of them attracting the wrong kind of trouble.]

Let's go somewhere else.

[justbeingknife]

[ Unfortunately, Majima couldn't lipread anything that wasn't Japanese. He merely assumed Erik was asking if Majima wouldn't like to follow him somewhere more private. Which was a fair enough question.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket. ]

You wanna take off somewhere?

[spalt]

[Glancing down at the phone, he nods. If they couldn't understand each other verbally then there were other ways - as Majima quickly shows.]

My place.

[He nods behind him towards the house he'd been placed in. Erik had a big room that he'd already set up.]

Unless you prefer somewhere else.

[justbeingknife]

[ In answer, Majima put away the phone and reached out instead, drawing a curving, flippant line along Erik's collarbone and halfway down his chest before pulling away. He turned on his heel towards the house, stopped only to cast a glance over his shoulder.

Though there was not a word exchanged, there was only one message to be gleaned by the cant of his head and the slight upward turn at the corner of his mouth: ]

Coming?

[spalt]

[Erik understood what was going to happen by the touch to his chest and the way Majima had turned to walk away. It was enough but the extra confirmation was appreciated. He nods, this time, and follows the man to the house. The layouts all appeared to be similar, if not the same, so it wouldn't be difficult for him to navigate to Majima's room in the dark.

He keeps close and he keeps quiet.

When they've gotten inside, he slips his hand down to settle at Majima's lower back. The device might be useful now but he assumes that the other man doesn't need so many words.]

[justbeingknife]

[ By now, Majima was used to navigating dimly-lit spaces; even if he hadn't been, Erik seemed motivated enough to lead him in the right direction. The instant the bedroom door swung quietly closed, Majima turned on his heel, leaning into Erik's touch -- and also pressing the palm of his hand decisively against the wall, a few centimeters to the side and level with the man's gaze.

He didn't explain the gesture, but there was a distinctively mischievous look in that single brown eye before Majima's moved in for a series of kisses, starting with Erik's bottom lip and moving down his line of his throat.

Either way, the movement effectively pinned Erik against the back of the door, which was perhaps the point. ]

[spalt]

[Erik shifts and anticipates Majima's movements, stepping back until he's pressed to the wall. The moment, outside, wasn't lost in the journey to get somewhere that they could be safe and that's largely due to how the man pushes in against him without reservation.

He assumes that since the house is soundproofed enough for this, that he could spare a word or so.]

I'll undress you now.

[While still allowing Majima to kiss down his throat. His fingers find the zip of the man's jumpsuit and he tugs it down, pushing the fabric off his shoulders.]

[justbeingknife]

[ This required a little cooperation. Majima shrugged, letting the cloth slide free. The motion revealed a riot of line and color -- vibrant red plum blossoms over whorls of black ink, a pair of white serpents coiling over the surface of his chest and shoulders.

The tattoo continued over his shoulders and onto his back, though for obvious reasons this was currently obscured from view. Technically speaking, he should be hiding his ink, not going out of his way to flash it in front of men he didn't know.

On the other hand, foreigners didn't seem to even recognize the significance; they were surprised when they showed up at public baths and were summarily turned away. It was with this understanding that Majima opened the front of Erik's shirt with his free hand, indicating with a slight tilt of his head that Erik should similarly shed his own clothing. The slight laugh in his eyes suggested he was looking forward to evaluating the man's physique firsthand. ]

[spalt]

[Erik was fascinated by the tattoos.

He had one of his own, on his forearm, but it wasn’t there by choice and was nothing that he’d want to talk about. His fingertips trace over the colorful lines, over the red blossoms and swirls of thick dark ink. He can see the beginning of white snakes but in his current position, he can’t see just how far they go. Soon.

He didn’t understand the significance of them or why this man would choose to cover his body but he wasn’t here to learn Majima’s entire life story - if he wanted to ask later and the other wanted to share, then that was fine.

When he’s finished, and Majima signals he’s ready to move forward, Erik reaches for the collar of his own jumpsuit and pulls one arm free then the other. They’re not made to be anything other than functional, he assumes, so it’s not particularly attractive as he takes it off. When the fabric is at his waist, chest bared, he works it down past his hips. If he’s jostled or moves at all, the jumpsuit will slide down his hips to pool at his feet.]

[justbeingknife]

[ Majima pressed his hips up against Erik's, rubbing lightly up against him the way a cat might a new acquaintance. Languid. Luxuriant. Warm hands, calloused in those spots where his fingers would contact the hilt of a dagger, ran over the smooth expanse of Erik's back and shoulders. He said nothing, but Majima's expression was appreciative -- he could respect a man who looked like he could take care of himself in a fight. Preferred it, actually.

A careless kick separated Majima from the clinging of the rest of his clothing. He reached out with a lean, muscled forearm then, and tapped Erik's collarbone twice with the tips of his fingers. Then, carefully so it was obvious he was trying to communicate something, he pressed his palm to the center of Erik's chest, and gave him a light push, accompanied by a half step away. He held that position for a moment or two, head canted toward the man to see if he'd been understood. ]

If you need to tap out.

[ Without the benefit of language, and with the goal of trying to keep things quiet in mind, he wanted to establish a clear signal if Erik wanted to put a brake on things. ]

[spalt]

[Erik raises a brow when Majima steps away, only to nod a few moments later. He understood. If someone wants to stop, a firm push was all that it would take to let the other know. He felt that, even though they were strangers, Majima could read his body language well enough that if Erik wanted to stop he wouldn't need to push him away. The same for Erik. But it was good that they had a clear signal so that lines didn't get crossed.

Using the small amount of space between them he moves away from the wall and lets his jumpsuit fall to the ground. He's naked now. Unashamed. Confident.

He inclined his head towards the bed and gestured towards it, as if to say - after you.

Waiting until Majima takes the hint and steps that way, Erik follows closely behind and finally gets a better look at the man's tattoos. They're intricate. Colorful and unique. He's curious if they hurt.]

[justbeingknife]

[ That was easy enough. Majima swiped quickly at the pile of his clothes on the floor, then made his way over to the bed. He glanced over his shoulder only once; the end of his ponytail brushed lightly over his back as he did so.

Well, someone had to go first.

Majima sat on the edge of the bed, head tilted up to watch. He was curious to see if there would be any recognition in the man's expression, any flicker of apprehension. Back home, even Dojima's foot soldiers had recognized the Hannya for what it was -- a demon, the transformation of beauty into a creature of obsession and rage. ]

[spalt]

[Erik didn't recognize any of the tattoos for what they represented. In his world, he wasn't a part of any groups and hadn't spent time in any areas where he might have seen something like that. His focus had been surviving and then Shaw, with little room for much else.

And while there wasn't any recognition, there wasn't any fear either.

He crosses the room and lays his hand on Majima's shoulder, pressing back slowly - testing, figuring out where the lines are. They've already kissed and are clearly interested in one another, but that doesn't tell him if the other man prefers to top or bottom. A dominant or submissive partner. If he gets the go ahead, he'll push Majima down and straddle his lap, leaning in to kiss him again.]