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

[tornadoed]

[ the discomfort of a wet jumpsuit is nothing compared to what she'd felt before, so it barely registers. the suit clings to her arms, her shoulders, her legs in part, but it's bulky enough that dorothy doesn't feel exposed with it — or wouldn't if she had any thought to spare to that sort of thing.

she picks her device back up, keeping it in one hand, looking around while frank's underwater. no monsters. that's good. there's still some discomfort left, but it's mostly the emotional kind that comes from not knowing what is going on, how to get back home, how to make sure the ground beneath her feet is solid. metaphorically speaking. ]

[oorah]

[ after a a solid minute and some, he's breeching the surface silently again, wiping water out of his eyes and setting a grateful look on dorothy. he wades back to the bank and climbs up to start putting his boots and jacket back on, wiping off his hand on the dry hoodie material before he picks up his own device. ] you ok?

[tornadoed]

[ dorothy would be lying if she said that she's comfortable, but she's at least feeling better than before. so she types back quickly: ]

yeah i'm good
you?

[oorah]

[ he nods, offering her his universal OK symbol. as good as he ever is in this garbagefire of a place. he inclines his head back towards the village. want to get the fuck out of here? he sure does. ]

[tornadoed]

[ they're still alive, the world has righted itself again -- metaphorically speaking, mostly, not entirely, of course not -- and that's the best they're going to get.

so she gives a firm nod when he inclines his head and starts walking, trusting that he'll be right there with her.

halfway back, she gets out the device again. types - ] does stuff like that happen a lot

[oorah]

[ his eyes go wide briefly as they meet up with hers, and he slowly nods again. ] pretty much yeah

[tornadoed]

[ well that's just ] great
anything i should watch out for or is it just a mystery box of fun every time

[oorah]

[ frank gives a hopeless little shrug with one shoulder. it isn't his fault, but he feels responsible anyway. he's been here longer, he should be able to help. but the truth is they're all in the same boat now, and no one knows what's going to happen next. ] sorry

[tornadoed]

yeah

[ she's sorry, too. sorry that this place sucks for all of them. it's not his fault or hers, but it still sucks. ]

oh well
not like i was expecting another answer

[oorah]

[ he nods, there are a lot of people for which this freak shit is old hat. she probably has powers or magic or is actually some kind of demon or animal-god. what-the-fuck-ever. it's all the same to him. he's just a guy. well, maybe not just. but he can't fight these things, all he can do is try to protect what's left of this place. if that's even possible. ]

some people say time stops back home, that you never really left.
the natives don't have any answers. we're more or less left alone.

[ he starts to volunteer a little of what he's learned, even if it isn't much. she seems like the type to pry if he doesn't preempt her so he's getting ahead of it this time. frank was in the 'first' wave, and he was one of the first among them to leave the reset rooms. he forfeited his question and readily agreed to live in silence before anyone else even had their jumpsuits on. he's highly adaptable, and that's about the only part of his skillset that is any help to him here. ]

on sunday we all gather, natives and arrivals. they soundproof the meeting house and people can share their findings. or just blow off steam.

[tornadoed]

[ she's just a nurse from kansas -- except that's not true anymore. it hasn't been true since oz, since tricking a witch into killing herself with a police officer's gun, since gaining (some of) her powers. ]

and the soundproofing's good enough that we can actually talk?

[ she misses talking already. she misses hearing other people's voices. knowing that her own still works. ]

[oorah]

[ slowly, he nods. ] you can soundproof the room you move into too. i know where to find materials if you need help.

[tornadoed]

good
that's good
and yes please

[ she thought she'd have to stay quiet forever. the lines of her shoulders betray her relief ]