TDM #003

[bequiet]

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:

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NAVIGATION

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Comments

[oorah]

[ he smiles the slim approximation of a smile and shrugs. like he doesn't care. because he really doesn't care what anyone calls him, he never has. what makes a difference is who's saying his name in the end. his men turning to him: 'yes, lieutenant.' maria waking him up from a dream: 'hey, sleepyhead.' micro, trying to assess his state of mind: 'goodnight, dick.' and then billy, smiling a bloody smile: 'oh, franky.' he takes a shaky breath, thinking of the kids here. hotdog, pb, frank. they all called him something different, but their reliance upon him was the same across the board. so no, he's never put much stock in a name. especially not when 'THE PUNISHER' had been emblazened across every headline and twenty-four hour news ticker. ]

I think I'll live. You need anything else, lady?

[bossily]

[Wait. It sounds like he's leaving. She'll be alone with her thoughts if that happens. It's a good thing she's a big girl and can deal with that, even if she doesn't necessarily want to. The smile fades away and is left with a look of uncertainty. It stays on her face as she tries hard to think of something she needs him for. The reality of the situation is she doesn't need him for anything. She just doesn't want to be alone. Not here, not yet.

So she goes to what her next plan of action is, and she questions him in a small voice.]

Do you think there's any way I can steal back the things that they took from me? They took something from me that was important, and I want it back.

[oorah]

[ if he didn't have other people to help, he would be tempted to stay. as it is... clara has already proven she can take care of herself. but he considers her question, then nods. ]

If it's quiet, they'll give it back. It's been done before. [ a beat. ] Look, we gotta go, but. If you need anything else? Text 'hotdog' or 'micro' on this thing. And if the Natives give you any trouble about your stuff, I'll talk to Constance. Okay?

[bossily]

[She bites at her lip and glances down, nodding. She knows that he has a job to do, and she can't keep him any longer than she already has. So she forces a smile on her face and acts like everything is just fine.]

It's a chain that has a key and my mother's ring on it. That ring's all I have left of her, so...

[It's important. She lets that thought trail off and die before it can be said out loud, and it's accompanied by a light shrug of her shoulders.]

Thank you, Frank.

[With a nod of her head, she gestures for him to get lost. He's got other people to help.]

[oorah]

[ he nods, cataloguing the information the same way he does everything else. to be recalled with startling clarity later when it's needed. she shouldn't have trouble getting that back, and if she does he'll use his influence to make sure she gets it before the end of the month.

frank gestures for max who's been playing with the native kids while the grown-ups talked. time to go back to work. he puts a hand on clara's arm, feeling the rough flannel of his own shirt and meeting her eyes one last time. okay later girl. ]