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

[dryeyes]

a. laundry day (put a sock in it) (near the residences)

[Aizawa didn't think there was going to be anything out of the ordinary today. There wasn't a cloud in the sky (regrettable, more rain would be so useful) so he's completing a very mundane task that suddenly requires much more care: laundry. He'd been sick and finally, finally he had the energy to move around normally. His first task was then to purge his room of any trace of sickness, lest it linger. Just because he was moving his things to the more spacious garage didn't mean he would leave his old room a den of sickness.]

[He'd very carefully wiped down every exposed surface he'd been near with rags, then carefully dipped them into water again. Since he wasn't restrained anymore he could pick up disinfectant and generally make a good show of it. He'd made a makeshift clothesline from stuff pilfered and borrowed from his construction job. Several sheets hang in the lack of breeze.]

[It's while he works that he notices the streets are a little more busy. There were several locals who gave him worried looks, like the clothesline could, at any moment, snap, cause a sound, and kill him. Some avoided the place due to the rumors of sickness. There are more confused-looking people, though, wearing fresh, new jumpsuits and looking might lost and scared.]

[It was optimistic to think they'd be the only ones, wasn't it. He makes his way back to the sandpath with quiet footsteps, looking to catch the attention of someone wandering by.]

[Like you. Hey, you're getting gestured to come over by a really scruffy-looking guy with a mess of what look like loose bandages around his neck.]

b. sugar, yes please (liplocked) (chill version) (limit 3)

[It was still a little astounding how the locals had the energy and resources for these little festivals. While he'd been happy enough to find his capture weapon outside his door earlier in the week, these were...]

[It was chocolate, wasn't it? Three little bags, decorated with the tiniest bit of ornate red tinsel. He views them with all the distrust in the world. He hated attention and, as far as this was concerned, it fell under "attention" more than "gratitude" to anything he'd done. And, besides, he wasn't super into sweets. So, he gathers up the three bags and heads out along the sandpaths. He just walks until he finds someone who looks idle, like they're not doing anything important, and-]

[-quietly presses a bag of chocolates into their hands.]

["Take it" he signs sharply, looking a little more tired than usual.]

c. you're pretty when I'm drunk (liplocked) (no chill)

[After getting rid of the candy, he finds his way to the fountain area with the red-glowing fire. He views the jaws with a little bit of suspicion but ultimately assumes it's similar to before. Maybe a little present from the man with the hat. So he settles at the edge of the party with one of the jars, idly drinking from it. At least it doesn't burn like the last drink he got here. It goes down quite easily. And while the sweetness would usually bother him, something about it keeps him drinking.]

[He doesn't look affected. He looks like a stoic face in the middle of all these lovey-dovey people.]

[Still waters run deep, though. With about half of his drink gone, he might be looking at someone with a sort of different expression. It's like seeing them in a new light... he shifts his hands on his drink, looking all and honestly awed. His mind starts racing with how to approach them, to convey what his brain suddenly wants to say...]


((ooc: For prompt c, you can drop of comment of your character nearby and I'll do a customized approach if that makes life easier. Most options will lead to simply friendship or parental praise; if you're interested in it taking a romantic or lusty angle PM me since I'd like to keep that more limited! Also feel free to PM me if you'd like to twist any prompt ideas or plot something and get a custom starter!))

a.

[worlds]

[Being very much one of the lost new folks, Ouni can't say he's in the mood to talk to strangers (namely because he... never is...), but also because he's lost and new, he knows it's not quite the time to pretend nobody else in the world exists.

So warily, he walks over to Aizawa (and yeah, he's eyeing those bandages, because why). What, he mouths.]

[dryeyes]

[His hands start to sign, instinctively now, but he realizes- someone new wasn't going to recognize the local's sign. His shoulders move in a silent sigh as he pulls the device from the pocket of his jumpsuit.]

You're new here, aren't you? [Possibly brand new, considering how they looked lost even in the residential are.a They could have just been dropped off at a house and were now wandering around. The person doesn't look distressed, though, just a familiar degree of grumpiness. So, he'll keep it brief.]

Did the locals tell you much?

[worlds]

[Ouni already hates communication here, when his only options are apparently a language through gestures he doesn't know or written language on an unfamiliar device when reading has never been his strong suit.

Slowly, he types out:]

nothing useful

[dryeyes]

[There's a small nod at that response, as if he expected as much. He holds the device out for as long as necessary, checking the others' eyes for pace of reading. He, at very least, doesn't seem impatient.]

The locals want us to stay. You can't trust everything they tell you anyways.

They're right about the need for silence. That part we've witnessed. [And most people who did really wish they hadn't.]

c! GIMME THAT PARENTAL PRAISE...

[lowkeycrazy]

(first impressions!)

[Akechi's had a drink of the liquid, as well, though his own reasons for having accepted the offering were perhaps... slightly less innocent. He'd been offered alcohol upon his arrival here, after all, and even though he ended up with an awful hangover... well, really, the ability to just... not feel terrible for awhile? Is well worth it.

This drink, though decidedly not alcohol, manages to achieve a somewhat similar effect, except he feels somehow more... cuddl..y...?

Either way, he notices the look of the older man, and blinks curiously at him, offering a small, friendly smile. He brings out his device and types on it.]

Yes?

tired dad incoming

[dryeyes]

[The uniform had caught on Aizawa's eyes first. He didn't really need to see it, though, to know how young this person had to be. He thought he'd accepted the fact that this place was merciless, it took people regardless of age, but... the drink was rounding off all his rough edges.]

You look tired. [he signs, the device picking it up and translating it. If anyone should be an expert in tired, it's this guy, because even a softer expression can't hide his own deep, darkly-colored bags.]

Here, sit down with me. Take a rest. You deserve it. [And from the look in his eyes, he means it. It's not the derisive look of an adult telling a child what to do. There's a level of respect to his look. Anyone enduring this place deserved some rest, some respect.]

yeeeeeeeeessssssssss

[lowkeycrazy]

[The statement has him giving a small blink of surprise, hand reaching up to touch the corner of his eye. Ah... he probably did look tired, didn't he... sleep has never come to him easily, and since he arrived, it seems even more fleeting than usual.

...though, this man seems even worse off than he is, in that regard. He feels more concern for him, in fact, than he does for himself, and as he's about to address that...

He's given and offer and... told he deserves a rest?

He gives a genuine, soft look of surprise, before his gaze averts, suddenly guilty. As much as he would like to...? He knows that isn't true.]

With all due respect, I don't. [He offers Aizawa a weak, sad smile.] But it's kind of you to offer. Thank you.

[dryeyes]

[His eyes don't move off the other's face, staring with a type of quiet judgement. That expression was genuine. It's not like him to pry in a teenager's problems. It could be any number of things. That doesn't change the fact that,]

This place punishes people enough without punishing yourself.

[He pats the seat next to him again, with a bit more firmness.]

I won't ask you anything about it. [So it was his choice to talk about it, try to convince him he didn't deserve it, or just leave it at that.] So, at least sit down while you finish your drink.

b (1 of 3)

[saltysanta]

[Aizawa finds another newcomer, clad in a faded red jumpsuit, who's making at least a token effort to learn his way around. (The geography of Reims itself doesn't seem to have changed since he was here last, but that doesn't mean he has any idea where anything in this strange little community is--and besides, he's walking around on the "streets" right now, not looking down on it from a reindeer's eye view.) It's not hard to press the bag into his hands; Noël looks from Aizawa's weary expression, down to the chocolates, and back again. It's a little hard to try and type while holding it, so instead he smiles wryly and mouths:]

You're so romantic. What is this, love at first sight?

[dryeyes]

[He's not an expert at reading lips but he can get the gist of it. He can at least get it combined with that sort of look. And the gist and look makes his expression twist more sour than usual.]

I'm just getting rid of it. [he signs, then realizes that with his hands full the stranger wouldn't be able to get out the device anyways. Well, there were always other ways to convey such things.]

[Like shaking his head in a slight, sharp, irritable "no" gesture.]

[saltysanta]

[Noël smirks at that; as much as he understands the guy's exasperation, it's hard not to crack wise at least a little about getting handed Valentine's treats from a perfect stranger. His device lights up as it starts tracking Aizawa's signing, though; he holds it up to take a look at the read out, tucking the bag of chocolates into his pocket. He's awkward with typing, but give him a break, it's only his first day here.]

Not a fan of sweets? Or just an unwanted siutor?

[dryeyes]

[Aizawa's expression still has those traces of irritation but as much as those show through, he waits patiently for Noël to finish his awkward typing.]

It's just troublesome to me. [he signs, words appearing on the screen. So, it was some combination of every possible explanation. He didn't want the attention, he didn't want the sweets, he thought someone might like them better. That's all!]

If you want, pass them off to the next person you find.

c......

[villainlike]

[he was out and about picking through the small wave of newcomers, the unusual 'buzz' of activity outside drawing out his curiosity. the candy and valentines from earlier were an odd surprise and he hasn't yet eaten any of it, saving it for a later date.

just as he considers picking up one of the jars of sweet-smelling drink he spots aizawa sitting by himself, but what really catches his attention is the very bizarre look on his teacher's face. he was holding one of the jars... maybe he was tipsy? shinsou wanders over, hand moving to sign a question.]

Are you okay?

[dryeyes]

[Shinsou... who would have imagined they'd both be in this situation just a few months ago. He hadn't even gotten a good look at the other during the sports festival, stuck listening to Mic's description of the "fight" going on below. He'd felt some sort of interest, seeing someone with a quirk they were told was "unsuited" to heroism still making it so far. They'd done a bit of training, but,]

[This sort of thing, abruptly, was too much. He taps on his leg with his fingers for a moment, like trying to find the way to convey if he was "okay" or not. Clearly none of them were okay in this place but something to his expression must have made his student worry. He shouldn't be the one to cause them any worry.]

Just thinking. [his expression dims a little, less awed but more fond.]

I'm glad you're holding up well. We've been fortunate. [Compared to others who had faced the reset room already. Something in his heart seizes at the idea of Shinsou suffering that, the quiet heat from the drink briefly replaced with a cold sensastion.]

[villainlike]

[aizawa-sensei is a mystery shrouded in even more mysterious that shinsou is only starting to understand. the man is difficult to read on his best days and while he was getting better at picking out his expressions and what they could mean there was still a lot shinsou could not decipher yet.

his chest feels warm at aizawa's words of comfort and he rubs at the back of his neck out of nervous habit.] Fortunate is one way of putting it. [he signs slowly, picking over his words. after a moment he signs again.]

Thank you for helping me.

[dryeyes]

[If they were truly fortunate, they wouldn't be stuck here in the first place. Of all the students to get stuck with, though, Shinsou was very easy for him to work with. They knew each other (if not well), Shinsou listened to him (if not about his sickness), so...]

[It's a bit surprising to be thanked.]

You know I'd do it for any student who was stranded here. [He'd thought that went without saying. Not that he was saying Shinsou wasn't important. Just, so much of what he'd done was the bare minimum. If only he could do more.]

Thank you. [Aizawa's not the type to just return thanks for no reason, so give him a moment to carefully parse out his reply.] You worry about me, as well. [Even though he shouldn't have to. He was a good student. He cared.]

a.

[noblebeast]

[ Bakugou stares him down without a word. He's not budging. ]

[dryeyes]

[They have a stare-down for a moment. Bakugou was involved, too. Well, whatever rubric was choosing to kidnap people seems to have landed on talented students this month. Talented and, more importantly, troublesome.]

[He'll motion again, more firmly, with his free hand coming up to tug at the capture cloth around his neck. It's a silent threat or, rather, a promise, that they'd end up interacting one way or another.

[noblebeast]

[ The touch of his weapon without provocation incites a deep dislike, not for the man but at the at the open threat meant to antagonize him. Red eyes narrow, but he's not stupid enough to start questioning a hero in a dangerous situation with only a rudimentary idea of his situation. So, with a purposeful look, he steps in his direction with an unwelcoming demeanor. ]

[dryeyes]

[That's all he needs, really. He'll even lower his hand and move to meet him. When they're a more reasonable distance away, he'll pull out his device and type a quick question.]

I've been here a month. As of right now, there's no way to return. They are locals are serious about the threat of making noise.

[A quick summary of the most important details.]

I'll get you back safely.

[The most important detail. He's been here a month, so it's been a month since he talked to Bakugou's mother and was entrusted with his safety and... he'd certainly done a terrible job of it, hadn't he.]

c (parental probably, look at this boi...)

[twoaffirmations]

[It took maybe two seconds of internal debate for 9S to decide if he was going to drink that red liquid or not. He really has no sense of self-preservation.

He's sitting down by the fountain, just a few feet from Aizawa as he gulps down the last of his drink, and boy... He sure is feeling it.

9S gives his head a small shake, but it's still swimming.]

[dryeyes]

[Self-preservation is overrated. Or, well, it is when it comes to himself. Other people, though, he doesn't like seeing it in. Other people should be more careful. In seeing the younger man (because it's still in his nature to assume everyone is human, even with the resemblance to other androids he's seen) shake his head...]

[He gets up, goes off, and within a few minutes comes back with one of the drinking jars filled with water. He'll offer that to 9S. With his hands occupied he can't sign an explanation so it's just sort of- idly moved in his direction. Here, take it, clear your head, take it.]

[twoaffirmations]

[9S, who just drank a mysterious red liquid at the behest of a stranger, once again drinks a strange liquid at the behest of a stranger. He's learned nothing.

After a few sips, he just looks confused.] Ummm... This is water?

[dryeyes]

[He's got not idea what sort of rules the red liquid works on. From his own view, there's not even anything strange about it. He assumes it's alcohol. After all, he's not in any sort of lack of control of his own body. This is all something he'd do. With his hands free, he can sign.]

It looked like you needed the break. [the way he shook his head, how young he looked, like he needed to sober up]

It'll clear your head.