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quietplacememes2018-02-28 08:56 pm
bequiet) wrote in 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!
Yukie Gray | Original Character
[ Nothing about this is right.
The last he remembers was pointing his guns and firing them point blank range at the smug bastard who thought he was an intelligent and cunning hunter. As he finally comes to, his senses - usually sharp and edged - feel fuzzy and it takes a few moments before his mind finally catches up. About that time he registers a couple of things and it's nothing at all he likes.
One? They have him here in some world where you couldn't make sound without the threat of death. Two? They took his goddamn coat and his usual clothes, along with his guns and knives.
To top it all off, without the cover of his coat? It was even harder to mask the rather massive wings he kept folded close to his back, the colors of the feathers ranging from a darker brown to a soft, light gold hue that shimmered in certain lighting. Though he was sure that the pointed ears would have given away his inhuman nature, it didn't leave him feeling very receptive to all this and had him scowling a little at the device in hand.
For a second he nearly looks like he wants to throw it at the wall but decides against it. Which was needed since he found someone staring at him and he responded in way of a message right after. ]
What? Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to stare?
| Caught me Unawares |
[ Never did he expect he'd ever relive his happiest moments in a place like this one.
The happiest ones are rare, far and inbetween but they're still there. Showing a young boy with the same blond hair and green eyes as Yukie but there's no wings or shred of inhumanity and a vibrant smile on his face. He's only a child of four here, dancing with his mother outside of a cozy-looking home that could only belong out of something from the 1900's. Nature was vibrant, bright and colorful, matching the expressions on both of their faces.
The woman - his mother - had faded blondish-brown hair and a kind smile. Yukie had gotten his eyes from her, a small face not yet marked with the demonic curse he now bore.
She's kind and sweet and he can't help but think of her. Many of his happier memories feature her as she whispers sweet words, fingers brushing through his hair and many might recognize the language spoken as none other than German. He's happy and cheerful around her, even through some later memories when he's a eager young man of around fifteen and cooking for her without any hesitations or pain visible whatsoever.
Lastly?
The shift is palpable in the next memories. He looks as he does now, expression soft but bemused as he's speaking to a rather pale young man with white-tipped navy blue hair and red eyes who seems to be huffing and seeming petulant about something. All while Yukie traces fingers along a gun in his one hand briefly. This could be likened to realizing this person was at least a friend to him, if the way he playfully punched his shoulder was any indication. It's almost painful when the next night comes and there's nothing but a door, steps hitting nothing and the fall catching him so off guard that he can't even muster up the strength to use his wings.
It's only as they reach the ground that he turns his attention to the one who'd ended up here, bristling visibly. ]
You'd do best to look away. I don't need people prying into my life like this.
[ He's a little brash and rough around the edges but not a bad person. This just seems way too invasive for him. ]
| Falling down the Stairs |
CW for torture, blood, needles
[ Of all things? This was the worst thing to be dreaming of and it's haunted him for YEARS.
At this time he remembers many awful things but this was... the worst time in his life. There's an older man, voice rough with germanic tones and suddenly Yukie is being taken away by men in military uniforms. No matter how he tries to fight it, he can't. His mom unable to do a damn thing, hands covering her eyes even as he screams for her.
Then there's the real worst parts.
He's SCREAMING. Pain. They inject him with more serum and his body convulses, twitching as he coughs up blood and fights against his restraints. His head feels like it's splitting open and he can't take more. More. Not much more of this. Day in and day out, the cycle repeats and the men hurt him; bruise him and throw him into the cell when he's not strapped down to that table.
No use. Try another serum. Something has to work! Try again!
Tears run down his face, hands break his wrists and it starts again. A number of different needles, blood running from his eyes but he never dies despite pain and white-hot agony searing through every pore. Laughing. He can almost hear the laughing. Day in and day out it hurts. More needles, more blood. Then finally when he feels like he's almost broken down, it happens. Nothing could have prepared this young man from the agony of having wings rip themselves out of your back violently, blood spraying everywhere.
Too much pain. It's too much to bear. His mind snaps briefly.
Never did Yukie want to relive those times, but here it was and tonight he wasn't alone. Tension is wrought in every nerve and the way he holds himself, wings shifting to almost curl around him protectively. Why did that door appear and bring him here with them? ]
Stop. Please don't... I can't...
[ His cold shell is cracked; showing an edge of vulnerability. Rare and unfettered. He couldn't build up his walls right now. ]
| Wildcard |
[ Nothing stand out to you? Bring me anything that stands out to you and i'll roll with it ^^ ]
Arrival
Still, Taako kind of gets why the guy is getting pissy with him; his response is a calm shrug, and then a very slowly-typed response.]
no offense my dude just checking out the scenery those wings are pretty dope
no subject
Reminding himself that there was no ill-intent there, causing him to relax slightly. ]
...Thanks. I'd been hoping they weren't going to be so exposed so soon, though. At least you had the courtesy to look and not touch like some i've known.
no subject
He's seen a whole lot, but not everything. Yet.
He makes a face at that, though; that would probably be like somebody touching his ears, which has also happened, and which he's also not a huge fan of in general.]
gross you should at least take a guy to dinner first
no subject
Something which had not left him responding favorably to say the least. ]
Exactly. It's quite a nice change to see someone who understands that much.
no subject
Taako grins lazily in return, though; at least he's been able to help another newbie around here chill out some. That's okay.]
im taako and i swear im literate this shit is just impossible to write on