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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!
no subject
The cabaret I worked at back in Sotenbori, we had a band. Those guys could really play. Miss it already.
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[ it's a roundabout way of asking, "what's it like in there?" what's the culture like? what are the people like? tetora's too young to go to those places, and he'll forever be too young - the curse of his genetics ensures it. not that it'll stop him, but the sentiment stands. ]
no subject
(Real smiles A-OK tho.) ]
I ain't a client, I'm the manager. The Grand's the biggest cabaret in Sotenbori, so we get all kinds. But the customers know what the rules are, and they know what happens when they break 'em. So all in all, I try and make it a decent place to work.
Haven't heard any complaints so far.
no subject
[ it's a little awkward, far as lamentations go, but here's the thing: he's never going to get the chance to just unwind and hit up bars or clubs just for the hell of it. gakuso is a hydra of conspiratorial horrors, winding its many heads all over the world's most innocuous places and people. tetora can never trust the open air of home, not when cctvs and other surveillance machinery litter what constitutes the "free" world.
nothing's truly free back home. it's the only truth tetora can believe in and live with. ]
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I used to be a regular at a place called STIJL. Typical setup -- pool, darts. And one of my side projects was a cabaret club. You know what those are, right? Show up, request hostesses and booze?
[ Choose which you wanted to hear more about, Tetora. Or, you know, don't. Personally, Majima was more attached to the cabaret club. ]
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That sounds like a more respectable beer garden, but yeah, I'm familiar with the concept. Less titty bar, more clean glasses and actual underwire bras?
[ Imagine he's making the boob hefting gesture. This is crucial to the conversation. ]
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Majima made a face. ]
It was respectable. Most of the customers came in lookin' to be spoiled, and that's what they got. After hours dating was allowed, but no one got asked to bring outside dates to the club.
The champagne towers and partyin', that all happened. But most of the girls were just lookin' for some extra cash, and they just couldn't work out a normal job with all the other shit on their plate.
[ There was genuine affection on Majima's face when he talked about the hostesses; he'd gotten to know them in only a short time, but he cared about all of them.
Okay, maybe not the lady in the cheetah print. At least Etsuko was a pro when she wasn't harassing him. ]
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You really liked them, didn't you. Your girls.
no subject
Like coming up with more ways to dick people over makes you better than everyone else. That shit drives me nuts.
[ Appearances aside, veneer of cynicism aside, the truth was that Majima often found it difficult to not care. All it really took was seeing someone who needed help, someone he didn't want to see damaged the way he'd been -- and he somehow invariably found himself walking toward them, not away.
He didn't even know why. God knew he wasn't expecting it to make up for anything he'd done. ]