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:

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

---

Comments

[danzan]

[ "Hotdog" has to be a joke. It's jarring enough in the middle of the mess they're in that Logan's claws pause as he digs them fully in the dirt, but he decides not to question it, muscles going tight once more as he pulls the dirt back instead. It's just as silly as the name Cyclops, or Storm, or Wolverine. Who is he to judge?

Hotdog is helping him dig, anyway, which is the point. And the grave shapes out nicely, though Logan doesn't know how long they've been going at it. He hasn't noticed the way their surroundings had flickered throughout the whole ordeal, either -- how they'd go from the night sky and the orange of fires everywhere to a plainer grey, to sudden blue skies, to smelling more like the sun than shit burning over.

When the grave is deep enough, he stops and turns to retrieve Jean's body. Her upper body's been hit with rigor mortis, and Logan's heart breaks because he can't cradle her to his chest any more.

But she is lain, and he brushes a thumb over her brow, and when he gets out, he throws the first handful of dirt in.

Hotdog gets one look before Logan works on burying her for real.

He's not going to speak until it's over -- a quiet 'thank you'. And after that, a soft huff: ] You have to get out of here before the cops come.

[oorah]

[ frank sees it all from the flickering sky to the way time seems to stand still one moment only to speed through the bulk of the dig the next. even knowing they're sleeping doesn't pull him out of it any quicker, and he sets his shovel down when logan places her reverently down, bowing his head and clasping his hands in front of his body. he's hunched over as though he could make himself smaller by will alone, a manic high-mass speeding through his mind in a blink. he might be a lapsed catholic, but if even one prayer helps her then it was worth touching on in the end.

he catches logan's thrown gaze and starts covering her over gently once he picks the shovel back up. there's nothing to be said until it's done anyway, and so frank wouldn't dare breach the silence. to say nothing of habits both at home and in reims. naturally, logan's words break his reverie even as they pat down the soft earth containing her. frank knows he has to at least try to be sensitive now, and it's never been his strong suit, but he tries to be as succinct as possible without making it seem like dreaming something like this over and over means he thinks any less of the man. that would be far too hypocritical for even frank castle n the end. ]

They're not coming. But you're right, we do have to go. [ it sounds cryptic, but he doesn't worry about logan misunderstanding with them sharing consciousness this way. ] Let me know when you're ready. [ frank can't judge someone for mourning, not even eternally. not when he tried to let his wife go but he still had dreams like this every night. ]

[danzan]

[ "Ready", Hotdog says, as if Logan's ever been afforded that choice. That, if anything, has him cocking a half-smile in the most self-deprecating amusement -- but as he buries Jean time and time again in his head, he buries his guilt, too. Keeps it under the dirt of his mind so he can be good in the waking world instead of miserable.

It's probably not the best coping mechanism, but it works, and at least keeps Logan from sliding back into the seven year depression brought about by her death. Burying and mourning is supposed to give the living peace; Logan can never die, and so he can never be with Jean again, and so the peace only lasts so fucking long before he has to bury her once more.

He casts Jean's grave a long look, and though his lips don't move, he gives one last I love you in his head.

Then: ] I'm good. [ He doesn't look at Frank, but he steps back from the dirt and holds his head up higher. ] Lead the way.

[oorah]

[ he can't lead anywhere, this is logan's dream. but he can nudge. as they walk, the scene slowly disappears and starts to reform into the ruins of paris, leading on into rouen-called-reims. it's starting to become a home of sorts. something familiar to return to anyway. ] You have to believe this is a dream in order to wake up. [ which means letting go of jean, at least for now. he regards logan seriously then, feeling for him but not wanting to get stuck inside of this man's head. not when he only just let go of his own wife in order to move on. ]

[danzan]

I know it's a dream.

[ But that's not the same as believing, is it? In his heart Logan still thinks it's real, because it's Jean and he needs to be connected to her in any way he can. As much as he'd like to admit it, his dumb heart governs him far more than logic or sense does. ]

What're you talking about?

[oorah]

[ he just shakes his head. if logan knew it was a dream, the dream would end. ]

We're in the Reset Room. None of this is real. [ frank gestures around them before stopping and offering a hand to the other man. ] I'll show you.

[danzan]

[ What, is he... supposed to hold his hand?

Logan's expression is wary -- he's never been good at hiding things like that -- but he takes it, anyway.

He doesn't even know what a Reset Room is. ]

[oorah]

[ everything he learned about this kind of shit came from a touch-based telepath so bear with him for a second here. one broad hand encircles logan's wrist and suddenly there's red dust beneath their feet. four white walls that seem to be closing in and it's hard to breathe. constance is visible through the doorway as is hotdog himself, standing calmly beside her with a big brown dog as people gather round. among them is logan, clad only in a shabby jumpsuit like all the others as he steps up to receive his device.

they're just in time to catch the best part: 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. frank's "heard" it so many times this isn't the first time he's heard it in his sleep. but this time, he has a companion. he looks over to make sure dream!logan is alright. ] Do you get it yet? [ despite the content of the words, his voice sounds even and patient. like it isn't the first time he's had to talk someone through this and it won't be the last. ]

[danzan]

[ The shift in setting is so jarring Logan's head is moving quickly from side to side, up and down -- eyes wide and nose flaring as he tries to make sense of it all the way a frightened animal would. The panic reaction settles when his brain catches up, though, and by then he's only able to really catch the last few things: survive in a community, but only if you're quiet. ]

I don't... [ He looks down at his clothes, and then he looks at the white walls. ] Is this [ God, what was it Hotdog called it? ] the Reset Room?

Or are you showing me this shit in a dream?

[oorah]

[ he nods. this is the reset room. his hand drops from the other man's so he can take it in, hoping it will jar logan's memory. ]

It's a dream, but it's also real. [ clears things up, right? ]

[danzan]

[ It doesn't. Fortunately for Frank, Logan's not the type to dwell too long on the shit he doesn't get. ]

How do we wake up?

[oorah]

Just say 'there's no place like home.' [ he lifts his eyebrows. okay he's mostly joking. ] I already told you: once you admit it's a dream we'll be back in the room.

THREAD END??? /furiously weaves into the intro log last month

[danzan]

[ All right, asshole. Logan shoots Hotdog a look, but then shoves his hands in his pockets and says, out loud and with much conviction: ] We're dreaming.

[ And that... should be enough, right? Standing here in this crowd, standing in this room, when only moments ago he was sure the world was on fire, and saying that he's dreaming... it should be enough.

So Logan's eye twitches a little when they won't wake up as immediately as he'd hoped. ]

We're dreaming. [ He says it again. ] God damn it. Why? This is a dream. Come on!

We're dreaming, we're dreaming, we're dre--

[ -- everything goes black.

And then Logan's eyes are open, and he's gasping for air, and it smells like copper, bleeding into his nostrils with all the furious strength of overwhelm. It's dark here, wherever he's awoken, and he feels paralysed and heavy as he struggles to get to his feet.

Dust spills between his fingers. When Logan brings them up to his nose, the metallic scent is strongest. ]

Hotdog? [ There's no answer. He shakes the dust from his hands, head jerking and looking around with a frantic edge to it. ] What the fucking hell...

[ He walks, steps careful and light, until finally there's a door he can fumble over, pushing it open and shivering hard at the cold that immediately whooshes over him.

But the outside world is empty.

And the outside world is dead. Futilely, Logan's lips part around a there's no place like home, but

everything

goes black again. ]