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quietplacelogs2018-02-12 02:11 pm
bequiet) wrote in quietplacelogs2018-02-12 02:11 pm
Entry tags:
INTRO LOG #2
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!
chinhands
Lucas is definitely no lady joining her gaggle of cohorts, and by the steely look on his face, he's definitely not partaking in the buoyant mood that's silently affected so many others.
Seeing the end to the fun, the woman still holding the jar lifts a placating hand that has the air of a shrug to it and signs them a farewell, never once losing her smile. Or maybe she's saying not to be a wet blanket, Jake's not really sure what she's saying without his device in hand to translate. Relief comes on the heels of the distraction, and on the heels of that the smallest pang of guilt for just how relieved he is. It feels like ages since he was last on the receiving end of touchy feely scrutiny from a grandma or aunts.
Or a mother, for that matter, but that's... something else.
He himself be led off like they're on very Important Business elsewhere that isn't here, shooting one last glance back at the ladies before turning a look of gratitude on his would-be rescuer, running his fingers through his hair to put it back the way he likes it.]
Thanks for the save. I didn't think they were ever going to let me go until they were sure I was all set with five jars of the stuff.
[The praise for his judgement is as unexpected as Lucas' appearance, and he blinks to see it, movements slowing a moment. The man almost reminds him of Roland in that split second, which is odd when the men look nothing alike (the no-nonsense stare might be the exception.) It's not a poor association by any means.]
I figured it was alcoholic, the way people are acting buzzed. Seems like a bad combo for staying quiet.
♥
It's a fair point the kid makes. The natives emphasized how important it was for them to be quiet, but an occasion like this where people appeared to be losing their inhibitions seemed like a recipe for disaster in terms of noise control... Yet it looked to be the natives' idea.
Lucas gestures to the boy's hair - he didn't get all of it back the way he liked, a few strands sticking up humorously, causing him to smile with amusement. ]
you're smart. you'll survive here.
no subject
Lucas does nothing to cure him of his earlier embarrassment. Although not often a child to fret about his appearance, Jake's not so far removed from the self-consciousness of youth that someone pointing out his messy hair doesn't fluster him further; his hand flies to his head at once, then he looks embarrassed for the reaction. And then even more embarrassed for being embarrassed. All of this plays out in rapid blinks and a twisting of lips.
It's different with a man, somehow. He'd only known the man through the distant lens of dreams, but he'd still grappled with the hope that Roland would like him, disappointment hot on its heels when he'd thought he hadn't, followed by more desperate hope than ever when Roland been there for him in the end. Before him it'd just been Lon for a long while--and if he smiled at Jake's dishevelment, it wouldn't have been kindly. Lucas is new and Jake's not sure how to peg him just yet. Giving him an excuse to duck the natives had been a nice gesture, if nothing else.]
Thanks.
[He'd like to think the other means what he says, and isn't just doing that thing adults do when they humor kids.]
Do you think they'd do that? Tamper with the food, I mean.
no subject
Lucas isn't humoring him. He hasn't been around children long enough to be accustomed to humoring them.
(What he doesn't remember? Is that he wanted children once but his wife couldn't carry any. Perhaps a blessing since his wife saw young witch girls as weapons. Anyone who treated a child as a weapon didn't deserve to have children.) ]
a witch let me and my friend into her home when I was hurt and needed help. the witch tampered with the drink my friend made to save me.
[ Granted, she thought Lucas was a worse man than he was, but she was hardly a good person either, keeping their child locked up in her house.
The point he's trying to make: ]
we don't know them. we don't know what they're capable of.
no subject
[Using kids as weapons, story of his life. 0/10, would not recommend. Witch gets his attention for this very reason, and Jake frowns at the sudden familiar and unpleasant association.
(Who is he?
He's a sorcerer.)]
Why'd she want to kill you?
no subject
[ And yet, she seemed to know Lucas, or made an assumption about him at least, by the sword he carried. It was a recognizable sword in his world. Wizard's guard. Dangerous. They protected the Wizard at any cost, followed his orders, cut people down on his command, never went against him... ]
my friend released her prisoner she was holding captive. she claimed she was protecting the boy from the outside world, but the boy wanted to leave. the witch was not happy with what my friend did. she tried to kill my friend.
[ There's a pause in which he isn't sure he should be telling the boy what happened next. we don't know them. we don't know what they're capable of - those same words can be applied to Lucas. ]
i killed the witch before she could kill us.
[ And then he saw his reflection in a mirror afterwards. After not remembering what he looked like, seeing his face for the first time covered in blood...
So much for making friends with this kid. He's mentioning everything that could possibly scare him off. Hell, maybe he's doing it on purpose, telling him things to make him avoid Lucas in the future because he's better off alone. ]
no subject
Had Jake not just survived a gruelling game of kill or be killed dodging taheen between Earth and Mid-World, maybe he'd be more aghast at talking to a confessed murderer. One with age, and weight, and height who could throttle him with those powerful hands in an instant were he of the persuasion.
It's certainly not a comfortable story to read--but then, it shouldn't be. Talking about snuffing out lives shouldn't be easy.
Sometimes it's necessary, though. Everything has a shade of grey to it.
Jake takes the message in with a sober expression that adds years to his features, but his gaze stays rooted on Lucas' face. There's sadness for a fairy tale that didn't end in "and they all lived happily ever after" (there might always be a little of that no matter how old he gets), but the fear or condemnation Lucas is expecting to see aren't the the primary emotions rooted there.]
I have a friend like you who had to stop a bad guy from hurting me and lots of other people. Some of it was scary, but I'm glad he was there. I don't know what would've happened if he wasn't.
I'm sure the boy's glad you were there, too.
[He's like Roland, this man; blood on his hands and the weight of those deaths on his shoulders. And like Roland, it'd be doing Lucas a disservice to judge him off the cuff after he'd just stepped in for Jake, and done what he'd had to to save his own friends from harm's way.]
no subject
Thankfully Lucas leaves out the part where he beat the witch's head several times, soaking himself in blood. He still doesn't know what came over him then - or he does, but he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about how much Roan might have taken pleasure in it.
He frowns when he reads someone tried to hurt the boy in front of him. No doubt Dorothy would say he's come a long way from wanting to abandon a little witch girl in the woods. Perhaps he's more like Dorothy than he realizes, wanting to run away from any sort of responsibility. Now he's almost moving towards it. He feels a certain responsibility towards protecting the children here. ]
who would want to hurt you? [ Does a bad person need a reason? No, but perhaps there's something special about this boy, like there was something special about Sylvie. ]
no subject
Jake grimaces, briefly enough it could've be mistaken for a twitch of the nose if not for the lingering frown lines around his mouth. He can talk about it, but it's the remembering that's difficult.]
He was a sorcerer. A really bad one. He wanted kids, but not to protect them.
[What he doesn't say, and what he's relieved he doesn't have to try and say with audible words, is that the sorcerer in question has already hurt him, deeply. In a way a person can't fully recover from. He'd taken something that can't be replaced.]
no subject
You have magic in your world? [ Lucas hadn't met many here where magic existed where they were from. ] To use them as weapons?
If you can do magic, I don't think you should tell anyone, except perhaps those you trust. [ He spoke to one person on the network recently who was very open about her magic abilities and Lucas was astonished. It didn't matter that magic wasn't outlawed here like it was in Oz, it was impossible to know everyone in Reims and their true selves. Not everyone was a good person. People could manipulate those with abilities, especially those who were younger. If there was anything special about Jake, he needed to keep that to himself, in Lucas' opinion. ]
no subject
Not... magic, per se. But special, yes. Special in the eyes of others who would use that for their own ends.]
Yeah. To power a machine--the machine was the weapon.
[Jake stares at him solemnly for a long moment, weighing the man studied enough to commit such violence but kind enough to offer an unconditional warning.]
Thank you. I'm Jake.
[He doesn't confirm Lucas' suspicions, but he doesn't deny them, either.]
no subject
call me lucas.
no subject
I don't think it will. The sorcerer--he's dead now. I want to think that means he and his people aren't a problem anymore.
[But want is a very different thing from reality, he understands.]
You seem okay now. Was your friend all right in the end?
no subject
But he won't worry the child. ]
what was his name? [ He'll ask just in case. ]
spooked by what i did. [ You would be too if you witnessed Lucas stab a witch then bash her head in. ] but fine. she's here too.
no subject
Walter. [And then he adds:] People call him the man in black. He looks almost normal, but there's something off about him. He's from Mid-World.
[Talking about Lucas seems to cause Jake much less internal conflict, and his reply is quicker.]
You did it to save them, right? [Jake isn't a bloodthirsty person. But he knows now sometimes blood has to be spilled--and some people have to spill it.] It's lucky you came together.
[Not everyone had.]
They make these Sound Eaters sound like tough customers. You can look after each other.