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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



paragon: your vote of confidence is overwhelming. (tws ☆ 016)

[personal profile] paragon 2018-04-15 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ "Win a prize for the pretty dame?" Steve's already looking askance at her, the smile on his lips a little indecipherable except maybe that he's perfectly aware she's capable of winning it for herself. Still, he lets them wander closer and pulls his arm from hers to reach into his pocket for the right change.

He can't pretend he doesn't enjoy hefting the plastic rifle against his shoulder, that he hadn't always wished he could do this instead of just watching and heckling Bucky, to have a girl to win something for.

He knocks down every successive target the carnie sets up for him, to the man's increasing surprise — well, he's just a kid, really, and doesn't seem too put out about it, either, merrily grabbing a pole to unhook the bear.
]

You can give it right to the pretty dame.
vdova: (sp-01846)

[personal profile] vdova 2018-04-15 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ She watches him, a mixture of amusement and fondness, standing at his shoulder. Natasha is anything but surprised that he hits each target square in the center; she could have done it just as easily with comparable accuracy, but there's something in the air. Maybe it's the fact they're surrounded by other couples, children, families, everyone here to have a good time and forget about troubles (both theirs and the world's). It causes her to not say a word, her smile wide and happy as the carnie hands her the bear with a "Here you are, ma'am". He's back to barking at the others in the crowd as she steps away with Steve.

The bear is white, with a bright pink bowtie, and is just large enough that she has to carry it on her hip like it's a small child. ]


Thank you, [ she says, holding it out in front of her. ] I'll treasure him forever.

[ She pauses for a short time, and considers the bear. ] I think I'll name him Styopa.

[ And she reaches up and playfully bops Steve on the nose with it. ]
paragon: (tws ☆ 149)

[personal profile] paragon 2018-04-17 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ He manages not to cross his eyes when she touches the bear's nose to his, looking at her instead and only closing them briefly when the stuffed animal obscures his view. When she takes it back into her arms he's smiling in the vague way of someone unsure if he's being made fun of or not. ]

Styopa?

[ His tongue doesn't trip over the unfamiliar name, at least, repeating her pronunciation to a T. ]