bequiet: (Default)
The Quiet Place Mods ([personal profile] bequiet) wrote in [community profile] quietplacememes2018-02-28 08:56 pm
Entry tags:

TDM #003



TEST DRIVE MEME

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.

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. 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. You're to settle into your new home.

Caught me unawares
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day

The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.

That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the happiest moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything good and sweet and fun. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restful and pleasant sleep. But on the third night it changes.

For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that dream from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the dream together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.

Falling down the stairs
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day

The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.

That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the worst moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything bad and sour and awful. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restless and dreadful sleep. But on the third night it changes.

For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that nightmare from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the nightmare together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.

OOC
From your mods:

Please remember to mark your content in your starters or subject lines as material comes up. The threads on this meme can be used as game canon. Feel free to thread out arrival style meetings as well! If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment below. Have fun!

NAVIGATION



deadboywalking: ([:|] fluffy)

[personal profile] deadboywalking 2018-03-10 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
[Will frowns for a moment, giving her a long, searching look.]

That wasn't your fault. You didn't mean for that to happen. [Pot, meet kettle.]
vindicavi: (pic#9952852)

[personal profile] vindicavi 2018-03-10 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ When everything freezes, he shuts his left eye, using the right to effectively put out it out. It's not easy and it honestly hurts a bit, but the flames grow smaller, like a fire burning down and finally extinguishing in only a handful of seconds. Once out, he lifts a hand to wipe at the blood that streaks his cheek. ]

...maybe not for you.

[ Because she hadn't been able to make a dent. Not going to acknowledge the fact that if this had been in his head instead, he'd have been just as powerless as she'd been, though. ]

[personal profile] ex_tagartist520 2018-03-10 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's an eye roll at the dig, her eyes looking back to the frozen scene, not caring how they got there, just glad to see Rachel walk away from this without blood pouring out from her side. She's relieved because maybe for one night, she can wake up without shaking and crying.

It'd be a good change.

Which is why, despite how much of a dick he's been about it, Chloe's grateful. ]
... Thanks. I mean it. I don't care why you did it, but I'm glad you did. [ Damon deserved to be burned alive more than anyone else she'd ever met and her tone makes it clear. ]
oorah: (☠︎039)

i am a notoriously terrible speller S O r R y

[personal profile] oorah 2018-03-10 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ frank shrugs, making a tiny face. he doesn't seem broken up by her apparent judgment or his own putting her on the spot. ]

Raincheck, then. [ he hesitates before taking off, since she seems the type to always have something to say. he'll stick around for the encore, okay, just because he's a nice guy. ]
beyourzoomer: (uh well...)

[personal profile] beyourzoomer 2018-03-10 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
[That would be an intense bonding experience for sure. Maybe Max will have found a way to get milk for the ice cream machine that had been left on her porch and they can binge on ice cream. If not, there's always hot chocolate.

Eggos.

Oh. Her face falls a little and she gives her an sympathetic face before shaking her head slightly.]


sorry. not that i've seen. but we might be able to come up with a way to make some from scratch?

[Maybe.]
kiljoy: (aka you got nothing on me)

[personal profile] kiljoy 2018-03-10 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Uh huh. And he supposes he needs to decide what sort of woman she is, although as far as he can tell so far she is susceptible to his powers. Then she asks about school and he remembers that she's a teacher which is the least interesting thing he's learned about her. Even if he could tell her in detail about the school system here, he'd get bored before he finished the sentence.

Kilgrave shrugs instead.]


You'd have to ask someone else about that. [The job he's been assigned here is teacher. He has done no teaching.] Say thank you for the tea, Clara, you've had a lovely time. I hope to see you again very soon.

[This is clearly a goodbye so he stands up and reaches over to take Clara's hand, lifting it up for a brief kiss. She's lucky that he's letting her go, but he's already under house arrest and he doesn't want Jessica coming after him for a third time. For now, he hopes that Clara will depart with her gentlemanly impression of him intact.]
Edited 2018-03-10 04:59 (UTC)
redecide: (bad vibes)

[personal profile] redecide 2018-03-10 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, Chloe...

[ It's a mournful, heartbroken sigh; Max can feel the cracking in her chest like a physical thing.

Words are failing her again, but just this once, she realizes they're not needed. Instead she lets go of Chloe's hand and throws both arms around her, putting all her weight into the hug, squeezing tight. Her damp cheek presses into bony shoulder, probably staining Chloe's shirt, but she doesn't care.
]
limped: (Default)

bangs pots and pans together

[personal profile] limped 2018-03-10 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
A dream, I think. [ Newt says the words easily enough, but he doesn't sound like he's paying much attention to Thomas. His gaze moves from the Maze entrance, and he's turning to look back behind him, at the others, at the rest of the Glade behind him. ] Or a memory. Or both. [ He still sounds thoughtful, but finally brown eyes are on Thomas. ] I think I miss it here, a bit. [ He lets out a stifled little laugh, the sound is more bitter than happy. ] I mean, I hated the place, Tommy.

[ He had, enough to be so scared and helpless he'd tried to kill himself. ] Never thought I'd miss somewhere I hated so much. [ What does that say about the Scorch? About the outside world? ] I miss Alby. Winston. Zart. Jeff. Chuckie. [ His gaze finds each person as he speaks. He misses them all, but Alby hurts his heart probably the most, he thinks. He's glad Fry and Minho and Thomas are alright, he doesn't think he'd trade their lives for Alby's if he could. He couldn't do something like that.

A sigh escapes him.
] For everything WCKD can do, they can't bring people back. [ He'd been happy, he knows he had, seeing them again. But now, he can't just help thinking how most of them are dead. How he'll never see them again. ] Ya think I'll forget what their faces look like? Or their voices? [ It's a sad thought, one he's had a couple times. If he could forget his parents, his sister, his best friend, everything before... Well, it's only a matter of time for this, right?

He's not sure he could handle WCKD erasing his memory again. But he's certain he couldn't handle forgetting them from time. How could his happiest memories make him so sad? Maybe he's not meant to be happy. He thinks of the Cranks, and how they've seemingly forgotten everything. He'd kill himself if something like that happened, if something else took his memories again. Suddenly he's walking, and he's certain Thomas will follow, or maybe he won't. Who knows. His feet naturally find the path he'd take, simply circling around the Glade, making sure everyone was okay, that they didn't need anything.

He doesn't regret leaving. He doesn't regret what happened. Newt's certain there's a place for them outside these walls, outside the Scorch, outside WCKD's grasp.
]
lowkeycrazy: (darkness)

[personal profile] lowkeycrazy 2018-03-10 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
[Akechi stares at Kurama, eyes wild, searching him after having read his explanation.

Another him? Another Kurusu? He's never heard such garbage in all his life.

And yet there are certain facts he cannot deny. He knows both their names. The way he looked at him, the way he kissed him... unless this guy was truly a sociopath and an expert at manipulating his masks of emotions... that was genuine. The love, the relief, the tenderness...

The despair, the guilt, the disappointment.

... and yet it cannot be true. It cannot. No one can love Goro Akechi, the flaming wreckage that he is. The complete mess, the cursed, who brought nothing but pain, pain, and more pain. He was cold, he pushed others away, and spat in their faces— even if they tried to help him, again and again and again.

There is nothing likable about him, let alone lovable.

So he signs:]


You really think I'll fall for that? To think I would ever let anyone get so close. Ridiculous.

[It has to be a trick. It has to. Maybe this guy's trying to emotionally manipulate him, because he's pathetic and can only assuage his own pain by taking advantage of others

No one can love him.]


What a flimsy sob story. I've heard more convincing tales told by children.
limped: (GO ON)

[personal profile] limped 2018-03-10 07:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Unlike Thomas, the moment Newt sends his message, he keeps his attention focused on Thomas. He's glanced around the room enough, he wasn't smart enough to get any clues from it. He knows Thomas is smarter than him, so he'll leave that up to him, if he wants to find clues. So he sticks with what he's familiar with, watching Thomas's facial expressions change, watching the way he gets that look that clearly says he's thinking - that his brain is going a million miles a second. Sometimes, Newt's surprised smoke never floods out of his ears like a broken down car.

He remembers how Thomas had overloaded him with questions when they'd been sitting down by the log. He remembers how Alby had found it frustrating how many questions Thomas asked. He'd even ranted a little bit to Newt the first night.

Facial expressions are a thing Newt's always been good at reading and noticing, unlike Thomas it seems... But he knows he's going to have to adapt for this place. His eyes fall to Thomas's hands as he types, watching them dance over the keyboard he can't see. He looks so focused until his fingers start hesitating, like he doesn't know what he wants to say. When he begins typing again, Newt notices it's a bit slower.

He checks his device when Thomas stops, and his lips press together in thought as he picks apart the questions.
]

What they knew apparently, including the monsters, yeah. Why do you think I'd know why they'd want to keep a dead body in it? And I'm not sure where it is yet.

There's a video on a bulletin board.


[ It's Newt's turn to hesitate, as he processes what Thomas has said. They have to look for him. ]

We've got to find him if he is here.
byanyother_name: (Go fuck yourself)

[personal profile] byanyother_name 2018-03-10 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
[That wild look is all too familiar for all that Kurama has only seen it once. Once was enough to burn it into his memory. Cornered, raging, distrustful... A silent scream of 'Hate me!' that Kurama couldn't heed no matter how betrayed he felt.

He takes a deep breath, more to calm himself than because he needs it. Kurama's expression shifts slightly as he lifts his face, eyes too bright, close to tears, but his face set and determined.

His fingers are a little quicker, a little steadier, as they dance over the screen.]

If I were trying to lie to you, I'd have a much better story. I spent as much time living a lie as you did, so I'm quite good at it.

You asked for an explanation and that was it. I don't expect anything from you, Akechi-san. I'm not one of your fans desperate for whatever scraps I can clutch at and I'm not someone who wants to use you like He did.

Don't bother pretending you don't know exactly who and what I'm talking about.

You're not my Goro. And I'm going to catch hell from him when I find my way home and he finds out about this little case of mistaken identity.
nishizono: (4 - dKyAIj6)

[personal profile] nishizono 2018-03-10 12:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the thing is, he's not dying.

he's in pain, certainly. having your internal organs heal themselves and move back to their original positions is a pretty painful experience, seeing as it normally takes a person months of recuperation to get the job done. tetora winces, gasps, winces once more as sprained and broken ribs right themselves, as internal bleeding clots, stitches back into place.

a gentle hand brushes the hair out from his eyes. cool fingers. they're a relief from the burning inside him, a quick fever that's brought on by the body fixing itself back up.
]

You're way too nice to strangers, you know.

Sorry for throwing you over my shoulder.
possidetur: (ᴇɪɢʜᴛ)

vanessa ives ( penny dreadful )

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
( arrival )
( vanessa abides by the request for quiet, knowing all to well the dangers that monsters can bring. if noise attracts something here then she isn't going to tempt it, though she will try to find out more where and if she can. finding the device strange vanessa tends more to watch the hands of those here, though she has yet to have any success in deciphering the language behind them.

she gestures herself to those she meets, trying to grab attention, beckon closer. it takes a few promptings to remind vanessa to type on the device once she has someone )
( caught me unawares )
( she doesn't know that it's a dream. it feels real and for a moment vanessa believes that she's home, that the dusty quiet was all a dream.

what feels wrong about this, letting her know that perhaps she's not home, is the person with her. her dress is still out of place, wearing clothes that she'd been given in the quiet place, and with someone who's dress is equally unusual. they're not home. was it ever a dream?

vanessa offers the person beside her merely a glance before returning her gaze to the hall of sir malcolm's home, eyes searching for anything that seemed out of place or anything else that shouldn't be there )


Do you have a weapon?
( network )
How long have you been here?
possidetur: (sᴇᴠᴇɴ)

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
What do you believe is necessary?
scarecrowed: (pic#12090884)

caught me unawares;

[personal profile] scarecrowed 2018-03-10 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Lucas has no idea where he is, who the woman is beside him, but they do have one thing in common - the matching jumpsuits they're wearing. Though nothing about their surroundings suggest they're in Reims. He remembers falling asleep moments before, so unless the house has been soundproofed to protect them from the sound eaters, this had to be a dream.

He grips at the hilt of a sword inside a sheath hanging from a belt around his waist, arching an eyebrow at the woman. Yes, he has a sword. He's what many would call a swordsman. But what exactly does she wish him to do with his weapon? ]


Are we in danger?
possidetur: (ᴇɪɢʜᴛ)

network

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Do you have a suggestion of a different tactic?
possidetur: (ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ)

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Aren't we always?

( she's referring to the sound eaters but if somehow they were home, or something was causing vanessa's home to be here-- who could say. though lately, danger did seem to be entwined with her life

she's taking steps now down the hall, hands resting on the large door to the study, pausing at it )


I know that we can't truly be here but that then leaves far too many questions about what this really is.
scarecrowed: (pic#11105237)

[personal profile] scarecrowed 2018-03-10 04:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Immediate danger, then. [ He corrects himself. Danger as in should he be getting his sword out right now if there's something or someone in this house who could try to harm them?

He follows her because there's little else to do. ]
Why can't we be here? What is this place?
possidetur: (ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ)

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
This is my home.

( sir malcolm's but she'd been offered residence in it, and it had become home over time. she's opening the door now, and if the hallway had seemed large the room will add to that.

the room itself it empty of people. books line the shelves along the wall, but vanessa's attention instead is drawn to the table and chair, hand hovering over the tarot cards )


We can't be here because you've never been here.

( correct her if she's wrong but she doubts he's from her time. it's an entirely alien concept but, as much as the protector reminds her of mr chandler he feels like a different kind of man )

[personal profile] ex_tagartist520 2018-03-10 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Her eyes had widened in surprise for a moment when she felt her arms go around her; it wasn't like she shouldn't have expected that. Max had always been big on hugs. Hadn't she always loved them to? Rachel had been the first person to give her one in so long, and while it had been nice, it certainly hadn't been the same as this. Her arms hadn't been Max's lanky, awkward ones. She'd smelled like jasmine instead of that lingering scent Max always had from when her mom baked those stupid cookies she loved.

It took her a second, but only that long at most, before she wrapped her arms fairly tightly around her, hands clinging to her shirt like she almost thought she'd slip through her fingers if she didn't hold tight enough.

If she stayed asleep forever right now, she'd be more than okay with it. ]
deadlight: (are just young gods)

[personal profile] deadlight 2018-03-10 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
god dont even get me started
did they dress us and undress us too bc that's a crime


[ there's a pause, a frown tugging at her mouth. ]

i'm really not looking 2 get killed tho

[ aka starting a fight, because everyone enters a fight assuming they could get killed right? ]
scarecrowed: (pic#11105251)

I return from a nap

[personal profile] scarecrowed 2018-03-10 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Quite some home.

[ Lucas has never seen a home like this one before, particularly with so many books. They attract his attention more than what seems to have grabbed Vanessa's. He reads some of the titles before looking over at her at her comment. It's fairly obvious he's out of place here - it'd be more so if he was wearing his own clothes, but just by the way he's observing his surroundings suggests he's not familiar with such furnishings.

He moves over to the table and reaches to pick up one of the cards - if she'll let him. ]
Where's your family? [ Were they meant to be here or was this house accurately empty? ]
possidetur: (ᴛᴇɴ)

bless u

[personal profile] possidetur 2018-03-10 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
( her hand moves out to stop his, gaze never drifting from the cards. she's searching, intent on finding an answer in the cards. the silence might feel a little uneasy but it lasts only a few seconds longer, lucas's hand being released with it )

They're gone.

( her hand moves towards one of the cards, one that has been very carefully found. judgment. vanessa says nothing about it and in fact, her head now tilting in lucas's direction serves as a distraction, avoiding the topic if he'll allow it )

We shouldn't linger.

( her 'family' may not be here but she wouldn't yet rule out anything else. she should, they'd defeated the demon and the nightcomers, but now with the sound eaters having loomed-- perhaps it was a little paranoid but being suddenly here, with someone that shouldn't be there, did not fill vanessa with a good feeling )
vocable: all by FRATHOUSE. (001)

[personal profile] vocable 2018-03-10 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ a serial killer, right. she almost laughs. this may be dangerous and none of her business, but that's her mo these days. ]

I'm Trish Walker.
Tall, blonde, ugly red jumpsuit.

Meet you in the reset room?


[ somewhere voice friendly, however morbid. ]
clussy: ɪᴄᴏɴ ʙʏ ɪᴄᴏɴsꜰᴏʀʙɪᴛᴄʜᴇs (ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ) (𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝)

[personal profile] clussy 2018-03-10 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
(Eddie remains very quiet, staring at Bev from under his brow. Didn't think they'd die, huh? His fingers twitch a little as she holds his hand to examine his palm, and he feels something burn up inside of him. Something about her singular scar.)

...You should have two. (He murmurs after a moment. Beverly was supposed to have two. That aligned with his third. Sitting with her in a bed with their palms folded together as they sealed a new promise together.

He blinks and looks up at her more certainly, and he glances again over the edge of the cliff. No, staying here didn't seem right either. Then he's looking at her again, his frown deep.)


I think...maybe....we would be stupid if we stayed here. (He'll admit as much. He grimaces, and after a moment, tugs away from her. He doesn't want to. But...

He tugs his shirt up over his head and works his way out of his pants and shoes. He pulls one sock off after another, leaving him just in his underwear. His skin prickles with childish insecurity, and he takes another peek over the edge.)


We jump, but together, okay? (He glances at Bev, and then after a second, offers his hand.)