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
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NAVIGATION

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Comments

Erik Lehnsherr | XCU | OTA (CW drowning, Nazis and the Holocaust)

[magneticfields]

Arrival

[ This is different than the last time. Or any of the other times he went through a portal or was sent somewhere by the Ingress. The dirt was different. And deeply unpleasant in a way that traveling via Ingress never was. Also the silence. And the lack of familiar faces, whether from home or from Avagi.

He is, at least, back on Earth. France, if he is not mistaken. Though nothing like the France he remembers so fondly. He understands and accepts their rules easily enough, as well as the handheld device that strikes him as decidedly far less elegant than the wristband he had before, and goes about exploring the town.

Luckily, due to his ability to hover an inch or so above the ground, he's in no danger of making noise and is not bound to the sand paths. ]

Caught Me Unawares

[ The dream. He's drowning. Rage fills him, burning his blood hot, his thoughts focused on the rapidly-disappearing submarine. He can't do it. He doesn't care. Dying in pursuit of vengeance is good enough. The voice in his head is easy enough to dismiss as his animal instincts desperately trying to keep his body alive despite his rage driving him deeper into the sea.

Until arms wrap around him, and pull him to the surface. The man speaks. Erik answers. The words aren't clear, he doesn't really remember them until. ]

"You're not alone."

Falling Down the Stairs

[ He knew as soon as Schmidt offered him candy that something terrible was going to happen. He is so hungry the sight of it made him weak. But he knows that verything good here is a lie. Whatever bit of kindness or comfort one might scrounge up is paid for ten times over. So he holds out. Insists on seeing his mother.

It is a mistake. He knows that now. The terror rolls over him in waves, turns his bones to water. His abilities are gone. Maybe they were never there.]

Verstehen? [ Schmidt cocks the pistol. ] Eins...

[ He is blind with panic. He never had any powers. It was all a trick. Somehow. He reaches for them, reaches his hand out and nothing. ]

Mama.

arrival

[bossily]

[Clara's in the middle of trying to help wrangle a herd of children toward lunch when she spots a man that seems to be hovering above the ground. She excuses herself and hurries on after him, curious and eager to explore. It takes some work to start catching up, but eventually she gets in close. It's not like she can shout out to him, so she winds up taking a shortcut that ends with her stumbling directly in front of his path. She has to hop back and out of the way so he doesn't plow her right over.

He's..definitely hovering though. The sight of it makes her stare up at him in awe.]

[magneticfields]

[ If Erik had been forced to guess who he might see in this alien place, Clara would be on the top of the list. She seemed to take things in stride that would bewilder most into paralysis. But it might not be her. It might simply be somebody who shares her face.

He is frozen for a moment as he looks down at her. He almost speaks her name aloud. But at the last minute remembers his device. ]

Clara?

[bossily]

[Color her freaked out. This is twice now in this place that someone's known her without her recognizing them. She can't hide the fact that she's bothered that he knows her name, and takes a cautious step back as she pulls out her device to type.]

That's my name, yeah. But I'm not sure we've met.

[He might notice some subtle differences in her. Her hair is longer, her face a little younger. It's still definitely her, just from earlier in her timeline than he's used to.]

[magneticfields]

[ Erik hates time travel. His hopeful expression evaporates into something much more resigned. ]

Ah. That is awkward, my apologies. I'm Erik. I suppose we will meet again at some point.

[ As he types his expression slides into slightly disgusted. Because fuck time travel. ]

[bossily]

[The change in his expression is noticeable, and she hesitates before saying anything else. That disgusted look on his face bothers her, because she isn't sure if it's directed toward her or the situation.]

You don't happen to meet me in a space station, do you? There's a boy here that knows me, but I haven't met him in my timeline just yet.

[She barely gives him time to read that before sending her next message.]

Also. The flying. How are you doing it?

caught me unawares;;

[oorah]

[ frank recognizes too quickly that he doesn't belong here. he's in his desert fatigues which of course do him zero good as they're cast from the submarine and gasping for breath. the only thing that's familiar is the other man's deathwish. because he has one too. getting his bearings, he swims to erik, wrapping his arms around him even though he's somehow aware it isn't him doing this. he isn't here it all. he sputters at the words, but it's not a response - there's still water in his lungs his body is desperately trying to dispel; and his combat boots are threatening to drag him under all over again. ]

I've got you. [ he murmurs it softly, with much less confidence. you are not alone. frank castle is always alone. then, he remembers his shared dreams with others, and how to break the spell. ] You're dreaming. Wake up.

[magneticfields]

[ Erik fights the other man. He doesn't belong here. No. This is the moment. The moment he met Charles. The moment he realized there were other mutants in the world. When Charles touched his soul and awakened him, brought him to the land of the living and gave him a purpose, and a love, that would form the bedrock of the rest of his life. ]

No. No, please

[ He struggles harder but it's no use. The sea and Charles disappear and Erik is back in his spare room in this strange place in France. He sits up, completely dry except for the sweat on his skin. He gasps, trying to catch his breath and rubs a hand over his hair. ]

[oorah]

[ frank feels the other man's loss as his own as it all melts away and for a moment he remembers what itw as like when he almost lost billy. the man who would come to take everything from him, and yet he still can't help but regard him as a brother on some level. he doubles over, his head in his hands as he tries to dredge up recent memories instead of ones long past. erik's memories are his anyway, somehow. though they are very different people from very different places, he can't help but feel a similar kinship to him. perhaps it's just for what they've each lost, or merely that this place is bringing them together now.

when it feels like his heartrate has slowed enough to be normal he'll sign Sorry though he isn't exactly sure for what. for crashing his dream? for not being who erik wanted him to be? there are so many things to be sorry for, but this man isn't the recipient of a genuine apology from frank castle. there are so many others who should be in line before him. ]

[magneticfields]

[ The other man seems as distressed as Erik is, which is surprising. Erik tilts his head from side to side, his eyebrows lifting and his lips pulling down as he considers. The drowning part at the beginning is rather distressing, he supposes.

He doesn't recognize the gesture but the expression on the man's face is fairly clear. Erik frowns and waves it off. Nice dreams are nice but it never lasts. One must awaken eventually, and then the rest of the day is so much worse. He fumbles around until he finds his device. What time is it? ]

Tea?

[oorah]

[ ugh tea!!!! is his only response when he reads the message. it's a good distraction as far as they go but- ] no coffee?

falling down stairs: murder edition???

[w4sp]

[ Within the space of those first smooth syllables, Lisbeth understands exactly what she's witnessing. Not what a closer look at the soldiers' uniforms would tell her, or what the boy beside her is trying to do with his arms outstretched, or how it is either of them are here in this— whatever this is. That isn't important. She understands the gentle lilt of kindness that's more like a knife sliding between the ribs. She understands threat, sung from the strong to the weak.

And that she only has seconds. There isn't much on his desk — an inkwell, a bell, a book, a few sprigs of greenery in a glass.

(Mama, the boy says, and Lisbeth goes a little blind too, but not with panic.)

The glass shatters in a wet spray, and she's moving, hurtling all hundred pounds of her over the desk with what's left of the glass gripped by the rim, yelling and slicing. Her shoulder meets up with the nose of the pistol — and it's only five inches of bone and cartilage, it's only one of at least three firearms and countless weapons in this room, but maybe it's enough (or maybe it isn't). ]

Run! [ she shouts at the boy— in Swedish, but, well, maybe he gets the idea. ]

[magneticfields]

Springa! [ He doesn't know what that means. He grabs Mama's hand and they run without thinking, without a plan. Just flee to get away from this horror.

Mama's hand slips from his grip. He looks back and she's gone. As is the building. The camp. He's in a forest. He looks down. He's grown. Wearing his work clothes. ]

No.

[ He looks up and the police are there. With their bows. Binding his wrists. He can hear Nina crying, Magda trying to calm her. He can't look. Don't look and it won't happen. ]

Papa!

[ She doesn't even know my real name. ]

falling down the stairs;

[vdova]

Nein.

[ There's a sickening crack, Schmidt's head turning at an odd angle; his body collapses to the floor and there's an impassioned woman standing there, red hair, cold eyes. She is quite unimpressed, delivering a swift kick to the body as she steps over it, reaching a hand out to Erik. ]

Kommon Sie.

[magneticfields]

[ He doesn't understand. He sees Schmidt's dead body, and hears the woman's instructions. He is frozen. This is wrong. ]

Aber Mama.

[ He turns, reaching toward her. But she is already crumpled to the ground. Silent. ]

Nein!

[ He takes a step toward her and the tile turns to sand. He takes another step and hears the ocean. The echoes of Moira's scream. The missiles plunging to the sea. By the time he reaches his mother she is gone. Charles looks up at him, eyes wide with pain, not just because of the bullet in his spine.

His blood is hot on his hands. ]

"You did this."

falling

[monomachy]

[The room is furnished well, but something about it still makes her stomach turn even before she lays eyes upon the scene in front of her. Perhaps it's the smell--sterility mixed with cigarette smoke, and a metallic twinge in the air. She gasps for breath, looks up. There's a child in front of her, a pleading woman and a man with a gun. A gun pointed at the woman, who begging and crying to the child.

The man with the gun is counting down, and Diana recognizes what's going on. He's almost at one, and finally, the fog lifts a little. She stumbles to her feet, still disoriented, and lunges towards the woman, arm outstretched for her bracelet to deflect the bullet.]

No!

[magneticfields]

[ This isn't how it goes. Diana wasn't there. Why weren't you there? Why was nobody there? But for once, the bullet is deflected. He doesn't hear the sickening sound of his mother's dead body hitting the floor. The silence after.

He turns to look at her, to ask when she got so tall but the scene changes. The cold tile under his feet is now thick red carpet. The white and black decor right up the edge of tacky. He's taller. Prouder. A king.

The White King of the Hellfire Club.

None of this impresses Raven. She lounges, naked, on the white sofa. Which in so many other dreams would have been the start of something pleasant. But not in this. Her eyes are cold and hard, the only thing betraying her emotions. He's already lost her.

How did he not see it? He speaks words that would echo in his ears for years in solitary. ]

Then stay. I will go alone.

"That's a good idea."

It is a good idea. It will work. And when I return, you can help me decide your replacement.

[monomachy]

[She's saved the woman and, presumably, her child--but the scene is shifting now. Diana stands from her defensive position, marveling at the decor around her. This is probably the exact opposite of the place she'd just been, and it takes her a moment to adjust to it. And once she does, her eyes immediately focus on Erik.

She realizes, very suddenly, that the child must have been him. And though her heart wants to burst from knowing that, she's left too breathless by the sight of him to think about anything else.

He is collected, proud. Closer to the man she'd known before, but still somehow different. Something is... less broken in him, though she can't quite figure out why she thinks that. She listens to his conversation with the woman--Raven, she thinks, as she's met her before--and can only manage a confused murmur.]

Erik?

[magneticfields]

[ Was there more? Did she respond? His memory is hazy, dream logic even less clear. Nothing else said changed what happened. Where his failure led. ]

Come on, Diana.

[ He strides out of the room. The fact that Diana is there does strike him as ... wrong somehow, but not wrong enough to stop the cruel replay of his failures. The club dissolves away into white. Nothing but white. White light. White floor. Five white walls. A ceiling with some windows, and white beams separating them. His prison jumpsuit is white. Another number replacing his name in another prison.

He sits on the floor, struggling to find some kind of peace caught in the midst of his rage and anguish and the crushing loneliness that eats away at his sanity. ]

There was another shooter. There was another shooter. There was another shooter.

arrival

[assguardian]

[ billy had been hovering too — it's quieter, and given that he's been repeating the woman's instructions to him under his breath, even his newly crafted cape makes no sound against the occasional draft that blows his way. he's in a soundless bubble, a sphere of magical influence that keeps him relatively safe to be around. seeing someone else flying, though — billy catches himself halfway to a gasp in surprise.

billy tosses up a small ball of light to alert the other of his progress, and to catch his attention— wait, they have phones. billy takes out his device and sends off a text. ]

hello! do you know where we are, exactly?

[magneticfields]

[ Erik is generally uninterested in the company of young people. Their needs tend to be outside his area of experience, and there's always somebody else more equipped to deal with them anyway. But there's something about this particular young man that tugs at his attention.

And not just because he's also floating, although that is interesting. And not just the ball of light that doesn't seem to produce any heat.

He looks at the young man a moment, searching his face for some clue as to what it is about him. ]

France, I think. [ His expression grows rueful. ] It's changed since the last time I was here.

[assguardian]

[ billy lands with a near-audible whoomph, the answer he'd gotten giving him something concrete to pin his thoughts to. so they're in france; that explains the scenery seeming familiar. he knows the architecture under the rubble, knows what france looked like back home because he's a romantic who sometimes sneaks out at night just to see the lights from the eiffel tower. what had happened? why is this place in such ruins?

were there mutants in this version of the universe, and did any of them survive?

something about the man seems familiar, too. the way the light drapes across his features remind him of someone, someones, though he can't pinpoint just who he's being reminded of. he knows this man, or some version of him. that much billy feels certain, as much as he can be in this universe anyway. ]

this is nothing like the france i know, too.

how is it that you can fly?

[magneticfields]

That must be of some relief to the French. It would be quite disheartening to discover that one's home was destroyed in every universe.

[ From what he's seen of the locals, this is another reality in which there are no mutants. Something disheartening to Erik. How is it that there are so many in which they do not exist at all, and yet none where they are free of their human oppressors? Is it their eternal fate to suffer?

But back to the boy's question. ]

You are familiar with magnetic fields, I trust. I'm able to manipulate them in such a way that I can hover on the polar energies. It's not a swift method of travel, but it is silent and remarkably useful.

falling down the stairs

[ferrokinetic]

[ there's not much lorna hates more than cages, except for people who put mutants in them. she doesn't have to have thunderbird's powers to know something's wrong here. the air smells sickly and stale, like fear, like the asylum - too many unwashed bodies crowded together. the scene before her swims into clarity. it doesn't matter if it's a dream. there's a child here. and she doesn't understand german, but she doesn't have to.

she couldn't protect sonia or the struckers from dr. campbell, but boy can she do this.

some instinctive, bloodborne part of her understands intrinsically what she needs to do here. the click of the pistol sees her snap into action. lorna's powers flare green and bright. the gun flips and fires into shaw's temple. ]

Fucker.

[ she hisses the word like a feral cat, giving him a sound kick with her steel-toed boots once he's down. spits on his corpse. then there's the matter of the kid. her gaze passes to him, and there's kindness there but it's uncomfortable.

she is way better at murdering bad dudes than caring for soft little ones. ]

[magneticfields]

[ Erik doesn't know the green-haired woman. He just stares. Feeling like he's listening to a record that keeps skipping into the same groove. That's not how it goes. It should have. He should have. They'd have killed him both but he should have tried.

The walls spread out, windows appear, stretching gracefully. The sunlight streams through them. On the thick carpet, the polished wood conference table, where Raven lies twitching. On Charles hair, falling to his shoulders as he strokes her face and whispers words of comfort.

On the gun in Erik's hand. ]

Don't.

[ He whispers to himself as he lifts the gun. ]

Don't do it. It won't help. You don't need to.

[ He cocks it. ]