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silentspringmemes2024-10-07 08:08 pm
silentspringmods) wrote in silentspringmemes2024-10-07 08:08 pm
TDM NO. 5
TDM № 5 : October 2024
Part I; Chapter 9. VALLEY OF THE DOLLS
Part I; Chapter 9. VALLEY OF THE DOLLS
Hey, neighbor, welcome to the fifth TDM for Silent Spring, a semiprivate suburban 60s horrorgame based loosely on the likes of We're Still Here, Holly Heights, and similar. Characters wake up in the uncannily idyllic early 1960s suburbia of Sweetwater, Maryland, an integrated bedroom community of Washington, DC - in the same household as a complete stranger to whom they have apparently always been married, at least according to the eerily and unwaveringly chipper neighbors who seem to know a little more than they should—or, if they're under 18, they awaken as the legally recognized child of the aforementioned couple. This TDM will give you a place to test out the setting and get some sample threads if you're going to apply in our first ever public app round!
This TDM is open to both prospective players and current players - please specify whether you are a current player or a prospective player in your toplevel!
Openings
As of this TDM, a total of 30 player slots are open. Players may app 2 characters in the same app round so long as they are in different roles.
Game Tone and Blanket Warnings
This game and its world, including this TDM, heavily feature nuclear panic, the Red Scare, conformism, sexism and restrictive gender roles, heteronormativity/gender binarism as it relates to being forced into a 'nuclear family', surveillance, gaslighting, brainwashing/propaganda, disinformation, pollution/contamination, poisoning, loss of control, nuclear horror, and uncanny valley. At different points in the setting backstory there are suicides, domestic violence, murder, slow death/suffering, trauma of minors, NPC parental death, flashbacks to combat zones, gaslighting, and other, similarly heavy subjects. IC consequences can involve anything from social shunning to sleep deprivation torture, brainwashing, physical torture (for severe crimes) and nonconsensual administration of large doses of haloperidol. These are the crux of the game and cannot be opted out of — this game offers a very specific flavor of horror and it is up to players whether or not they want to engage. The atmosphere is a dystopia, and while people can certainly bond with each other in extreme circumstances, the point of this game is not an ingame domestic AU, found family, 'adopting' other characters, etc. This is a horrorgame, and it has upsetting themes. Minors are not allowed in this game - as adults, it's the players' responsibility to self-regulate what they consume based on content warnings and avoid things they find too distressing to engage with.
I. National Everyone-Smile-at-One-Anotherhood Week
No CWs apply.
Maybe you were on your deathbed, taking your last gasping breaths. Maybe you had just drifted off into sleep. Or maybe you were just in the middle of another ordinary day—but whatever the case may be, you now wake staring at an unfamiliar popcorn ceiling, dressed in a coordinating pajama set or nightgown straight out of the Sears catalog. A complete stranger lies asleep beside you. Perhaps a dog or a cat you don't recognize lies sleeping on a red tartan bed on the floor behind the mahogany footboard.
This is your house, but it’s not your house: on one of the twin dressers in the room, the morning light reflects off the cover glass on a framed photograph of the two of you standing side-by-side and smiling like figures in a Norman Rockwell painting, maybe with a third, also unrecognizable younger party in the foreground between you. A Civil Defense booklet titled ”Survival Under Atomic Attack” hangs halfway off the corner of the dresser, its pages and cover curling upwards with wear atop a dogeared Macy’s Christmas catalog. The other dresser hosts a watch box and a compact radio: yours, if you’re the one wearing the coordinating flannel shirt and pants, or your new husband’s, if you’re in a babydoll-style nightie.
It’s not immediately clear if you’ve found yourself in the fifties or the sixties, at least until you throw on the robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door and head out into the driveway at some point. There you find a rolled newspaper tossed onto the concrete beside a shiny new car, dated October 1, 1961.
Prompt Details:
— All characters wake in a normal human body with any disability aids (including glasses or contact lenses) converted to the most common form of them in the 60s unless a modern development like a sip/blow powerchair is needed for them to be playable. Although cutting edge technologies like myoelectric limbs were just starting to come around at the time, they were not common and readily accessible, and therefore are not allowed.
— Characters have no powers, and regains will not happen in this game. If they biologically need something to function that is fantasy in nature (ex: have to drink blood), that need is gone and replaced with only a normal human’s needs.
— Characters will find their belongings, up to 3 items from home, around the house in normal places for each item to be: a book on the shelf, a framed photo on a flat surface, etc. Items that don’t exist in the regular universe in early 1961 may not be brought (ex: gameboy, pokeball, wizard’s staff).
— Characters may bring one normal, non-livestock pet, or may meet said pet for the first time when they wake up in Sweetwater. They can also be petless.
— No items or weapons from after 1961 are allowed, and no weapons more powerful than a hunting rifle or handgun can be brought with them. One weapon per character.
Maybe you were on your deathbed, taking your last gasping breaths. Maybe you had just drifted off into sleep. Or maybe you were just in the middle of another ordinary day—but whatever the case may be, you now wake staring at an unfamiliar popcorn ceiling, dressed in a coordinating pajama set or nightgown straight out of the Sears catalog. A complete stranger lies asleep beside you. Perhaps a dog or a cat you don't recognize lies sleeping on a red tartan bed on the floor behind the mahogany footboard.
This is your house, but it’s not your house: on one of the twin dressers in the room, the morning light reflects off the cover glass on a framed photograph of the two of you standing side-by-side and smiling like figures in a Norman Rockwell painting, maybe with a third, also unrecognizable younger party in the foreground between you. A Civil Defense booklet titled ”Survival Under Atomic Attack” hangs halfway off the corner of the dresser, its pages and cover curling upwards with wear atop a dogeared Macy’s Christmas catalog. The other dresser hosts a watch box and a compact radio: yours, if you’re the one wearing the coordinating flannel shirt and pants, or your new husband’s, if you’re in a babydoll-style nightie.
It’s not immediately clear if you’ve found yourself in the fifties or the sixties, at least until you throw on the robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door and head out into the driveway at some point. There you find a rolled newspaper tossed onto the concrete beside a shiny new car, dated October 1, 1961.
Prompt Details:
— All characters wake in a normal human body with any disability aids (including glasses or contact lenses) converted to the most common form of them in the 60s unless a modern development like a sip/blow powerchair is needed for them to be playable. Although cutting edge technologies like myoelectric limbs were just starting to come around at the time, they were not common and readily accessible, and therefore are not allowed.
— Characters have no powers, and regains will not happen in this game. If they biologically need something to function that is fantasy in nature (ex: have to drink blood), that need is gone and replaced with only a normal human’s needs.
— Characters will find their belongings, up to 3 items from home, around the house in normal places for each item to be: a book on the shelf, a framed photo on a flat surface, etc. Items that don’t exist in the regular universe in early 1961 may not be brought (ex: gameboy, pokeball, wizard’s staff).
— Characters may bring one normal, non-livestock pet, or may meet said pet for the first time when they wake up in Sweetwater. They can also be petless.
— No items or weapons from after 1961 are allowed, and no weapons more powerful than a hunting rifle or handgun can be brought with them. One weapon per character.
II. Drip, drip, drown
No CWs apply.
Autumn in Maryland brings with it a welcome reprieve from the seemingly unrelenting heat of a summer that stretched into late September, the leaves of the trees that line Haven Street at least turning over from bright green to brilliant shades of reds, yellows, browns, and every color on the spectrum between. Children play in freshly raked piles of them, and more pumpkins and wreathes appear on neighborhood front porches with every passing day. On the third of the month, the air takes a smoky quality and the usual controlled burn announcements come on over radio and television, informing residents of a controlled burn in the forest preserve behind the Sweetwater Atomic Energy Plant’s northern boundary (an area still fenced in and unreachable by player characters).
Characters are also advised over radio and close-captioned television that the local water plant will be maintaining the lines over the course of October, and to expect ‘mild abnormalities’ in taste from the presence of trace minerals. Water from every tap and restaurant in town, in both player characters’ homes and NPC households, takes on a very faint metallic taste, but nothing strong enough to make the water truly unpalatable: just different.
The changing of the seasons does bring with it a shift in household responsibilities: now in addition to keeping the still-growing grass at a satisfactory height at all times by mowing, families are expected to keep their yards ‘reasonably clear of leaves’ every day by the Homeowner’s Association. If a house violates this Homeowners’ Association Policy–which may only take two or three stray leaves on an otherwise clear lawn, if they’re seen or heard engaging in subversive thought or behavior around town, or could take quite a bit more than that for more conventional families–the entire household, even the ‘child’, will find themselves in the basement in which the town doctor, Norman Pollock, ‘re-educates’ those who stray from the fold (see in FAQs: "What happens if my character doesn't conform? What if they run afoul of the HOA?"). At least it’s a good opportunity to practice some high-stakes teamwork and coordination of efforts with your freshly assigned spouse (or child, or parents)!
Autumn in Maryland brings with it a welcome reprieve from the seemingly unrelenting heat of a summer that stretched into late September, the leaves of the trees that line Haven Street at least turning over from bright green to brilliant shades of reds, yellows, browns, and every color on the spectrum between. Children play in freshly raked piles of them, and more pumpkins and wreathes appear on neighborhood front porches with every passing day. On the third of the month, the air takes a smoky quality and the usual controlled burn announcements come on over radio and television, informing residents of a controlled burn in the forest preserve behind the Sweetwater Atomic Energy Plant’s northern boundary (an area still fenced in and unreachable by player characters).
Characters are also advised over radio and close-captioned television that the local water plant will be maintaining the lines over the course of October, and to expect ‘mild abnormalities’ in taste from the presence of trace minerals. Water from every tap and restaurant in town, in both player characters’ homes and NPC households, takes on a very faint metallic taste, but nothing strong enough to make the water truly unpalatable: just different.
The changing of the seasons does bring with it a shift in household responsibilities: now in addition to keeping the still-growing grass at a satisfactory height at all times by mowing, families are expected to keep their yards ‘reasonably clear of leaves’ every day by the Homeowner’s Association. If a house violates this Homeowners’ Association Policy–which may only take two or three stray leaves on an otherwise clear lawn, if they’re seen or heard engaging in subversive thought or behavior around town, or could take quite a bit more than that for more conventional families–the entire household, even the ‘child’, will find themselves in the basement in which the town doctor, Norman Pollock, ‘re-educates’ those who stray from the fold (see in FAQs: "What happens if my character doesn't conform? What if they run afoul of the HOA?"). At least it’s a good opportunity to practice some high-stakes teamwork and coordination of efforts with your freshly assigned spouse (or child, or parents)!
III. Monster Mash(querade)
No CWs apply.
It goes without saying that Marjorie, head of the neighborhood Homeowners’ Association and model housewife, is to host a celebration in the big brick neocolonial at the end of the cul-de-sac as Halloween grows closer. Instead of a full costume party, however, she’s got something a little more sophisticated in mind: a masquerade, complete with dancing and charades. It could also be a good time to semi-anonymously poke around the very same home in which one player character found a blood spatter concealed under a rug in the basement and some unmarked white pills…
Or just enjoy the punch, which has the faintest metallic taste to it just like all of the tap water in town, or the soda pop that carries similar notes. The townspeople, even Dick Clark, Nurse Ruby, the visiting physics professor Dr. Ravichandran, and Norman Pollock, seem unbothered by it, drinking from the punchbowl (or bottles of soda, for those not yet of drinking age) throughout the night without complaint or any apparent ill-effect.
It goes without saying that Marjorie, head of the neighborhood Homeowners’ Association and model housewife, is to host a celebration in the big brick neocolonial at the end of the cul-de-sac as Halloween grows closer. Instead of a full costume party, however, she’s got something a little more sophisticated in mind: a masquerade, complete with dancing and charades. It could also be a good time to semi-anonymously poke around the very same home in which one player character found a blood spatter concealed under a rug in the basement and some unmarked white pills…
Or just enjoy the punch, which has the faintest metallic taste to it just like all of the tap water in town, or the soda pop that carries similar notes. The townspeople, even Dick Clark, Nurse Ruby, the visiting physics professor Dr. Ravichandran, and Norman Pollock, seem unbothered by it, drinking from the punchbowl (or bottles of soda, for those not yet of drinking age) throughout the night without complaint or any apparent ill-effect.
IV. Life in plastic
CWs: mannequins coming alive, violence.
On the twentieth, a long, shrill wail like a siren alerting the opening of a hydroelectric dam sounds somewhere at the edge of town and echoes out to Haven Street, its point of origin seemingly proximal to the location of the tremendous department store. Characters who are outside might notice the townspeople heading back inside their homes and ushering their children inside before them: they’re not panicking by any stretch, but they move briskly, and they certainly aren’t wasting any time.
By the time the pack of mannequins creeps down the street, moving robotically with far fewer joints than a real human body, not a soul is left outside on Haven Street… unless characters chose to stay, that is. Unlike their first appearance in January, the mannequins move much faster now, and are particularly drawn by motion and sound. They will try to attack any characters who remain out on the street in packs of four or five, crudely bludgeoning them with hard strikes of solid plastic parts with intent to kill. Being that they are not alive, they are impervious to virtually all attempts to injure them that would work on a living being: stabbing, shooting, etc. The singular way to stop them is to remove the headpiece, but overpowering a single mannequin on one’s own is tremendously difficult.
Characters who go inside aren’t entirely safe by default, however–almost as though they have eyes, the mannequins seem to be able to see through unblocked windows, and any movement within the field of vision they would have were they a real human will draw them to the house. The mannequins are strong enough to break through windows and (with persistence) break down doors, and show rudimentary problem solving skills on the level of a typical mammalian predator.
It is absolutely possible to be beaten to death by the mannequins, and, moving in packs as opposed to as individuals as they did in January, they are able to quickly surround a character. Read about death in Sweetwater here in the 'mechanics' section.
At midnight, they suddenly stop moving again, taking on the inflexibility of rigid plastic, and collapse into piles of entirely unremarkable inanimate parts like Cinderella’s carriage reverting to a pumpkin. How strange.
(Just don’t talk to the neighbors about it, or discuss it too loudly in public. You wouldn’t want to end up in re-education.)
On the twentieth, a long, shrill wail like a siren alerting the opening of a hydroelectric dam sounds somewhere at the edge of town and echoes out to Haven Street, its point of origin seemingly proximal to the location of the tremendous department store. Characters who are outside might notice the townspeople heading back inside their homes and ushering their children inside before them: they’re not panicking by any stretch, but they move briskly, and they certainly aren’t wasting any time.
By the time the pack of mannequins creeps down the street, moving robotically with far fewer joints than a real human body, not a soul is left outside on Haven Street… unless characters chose to stay, that is. Unlike their first appearance in January, the mannequins move much faster now, and are particularly drawn by motion and sound. They will try to attack any characters who remain out on the street in packs of four or five, crudely bludgeoning them with hard strikes of solid plastic parts with intent to kill. Being that they are not alive, they are impervious to virtually all attempts to injure them that would work on a living being: stabbing, shooting, etc. The singular way to stop them is to remove the headpiece, but overpowering a single mannequin on one’s own is tremendously difficult.
Characters who go inside aren’t entirely safe by default, however–almost as though they have eyes, the mannequins seem to be able to see through unblocked windows, and any movement within the field of vision they would have were they a real human will draw them to the house. The mannequins are strong enough to break through windows and (with persistence) break down doors, and show rudimentary problem solving skills on the level of a typical mammalian predator.
It is absolutely possible to be beaten to death by the mannequins, and, moving in packs as opposed to as individuals as they did in January, they are able to quickly surround a character. Read about death in Sweetwater here in the 'mechanics' section.
At midnight, they suddenly stop moving again, taking on the inflexibility of rigid plastic, and collapse into piles of entirely unremarkable inanimate parts like Cinderella’s carriage reverting to a pumpkin. How strange.
(Just don’t talk to the neighbors about it, or discuss it too loudly in public. You wouldn’t want to end up in re-education.)
Players may keep TDM threads canon if both players are admitted, and TDMers are encouraged to play around with multiple possible family member matches. Have fun!
TDM QUESTIONS
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Follow-up: given the description of the sodas at the party, are there ANY drinks in Sweetwater that don't have the metallic taste following the change to the treatment plant? Alcohol, milk, bottled water, juices, sodas (particularly if products were bottled and purchased before the water changed)?
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Characters may happen across some beverages that don't have trace flavor to them around town, namely things like soda that is packaged by the manufacturer, but they can't be expected to live off of sodas/beer for a full month without deleterious health effects.
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ANYWAY understood, thank you!!
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WORLD EXPLORATION.
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One of the young women behind the customer service desk is sprawled out a short distance away from the button, her arm extended as though reaching where she lies on the floor. The button is not depressed, and looks normal.
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All around him, he hears the clicks of locks: doors, windows, escalator, et cetera. It would seem that the button was what kept the mannequins from escaping into the street last time.
EXPLORATION - MARJORIE'S HOUSE.
APPROACH PARTY GUESTS.
Nie Huaisang | The Untamed | New Player
Smile, it's a Brand New Day
When Nie Huaisang awakens, it's with the feeling that his silk undergarments feel oddly scratchy and sticky. He stirs, irritable about the unfamiliar sensation, and the movement makes it clear that this is not silk on his skin. This is something different and deeply terrible. Sitting up, he finds himself in a room like none he's ever seen before. It is small and cluttered, by his standards, with ugly patterns and no consideration at all for the laws of feng shui. The garment he's wearing has a sheen like silk, perhaps even more than silk, but is somehow entirely wrong. What a strange kidnapping this is!
All of that he might be able to take in stride, ready to sneak or persuade his way out of this kidnapping and back home. At least he isn't tied up. But then he notices there's someone next to him in the bed, which contains unnerving implications. He doesn't remember getting drunk enough that he would have gone home with a stranger and willingly put on such an unpleasant garment.
Forgetting entirely about his plan to sneak out of here, Huaisang shrieks loudly upon finding himself in bed with his captor or some fellow captive. This is all too much and he simply cannot and will not deal with it. It's time to default to his Plan B, which has almost always worked out well for him: wail until someone else fixes the problem.
Drip, Drip, Drown
This strange nightmare is ongoing, and thus Huaisang has no choice but to play along until he can wake up or find a way out. He assumes he's caught in some kind of enchantment to keep him trapped in a dream, but he doesn't have the first idea how to break a spell like that. (Did they go over this in his studies? Maybe he should have paid a little more attention after all.)
The locals all refer to him as female, and the garments in his home that fit him are all consistent in style with the garments worn by the women of the town. This is puzzling, but he's surprised to find it as an immense relief. Suddenly, he's exempt from all the expectations of masculinity which weighed so uncomfortably on him back home. There are new expectations of femininity, sure, but those come more easily. Fuss over making sure his hair looks pretty? Check. Gossip with the other women about current fashions? Check. Cook, clean, and maintain a household? Ehhhhhhhhhh.
At least he can take refuge in playing dumb whenever he encounters something he doesn't understand (or doesn't want to do). Stupidity isn't subversive, after all, right? They're supposed to clean up the leaves from the yard? How? Where is he supposed to find a 'rake'? And what is supposed to be done with the gathered leaves?
Perhaps you can come to his rescue while he's confusedly receiving directions from some of the other townsfolk in regards to home and garden care, or you can find him wandering helplessly around in the grocery with a despairing look on his face, or, after that, in the cooking section of a bookshop, trying to make sense of either the recipes or the instructions. "What even is gelatin? Why does it look like that?"
Monster Mash(querade)
Huaisang does love a party, even in such a weird place as this one. And he is tempted by the opportunity to learn a bit more about this 'Marjorie', who holds power over the Homeowners' Association. So he shows up in the nicest dress in his closet, an elegant red velvet gown with a plunging neckline, and a gold mask with a beaded veil.
Partaking liberally of the punch, Huaisang takes the opportunity to mingle. He's getting better at learning how to mimic the behavior of the locals, though he still has frequent questions about the ideology he's supposed to conform to. Even with his innocent cluelessness, he's still constantly a little terrified that his array of questions will get him in trouble. Everyone else seems to just know what a communist is, but Huaisang still can't make sense of it even from the informational brochures and the television programs. He doesn't dare ask again how he's supposed to know what a communist is and how not to be one. A threat to our American way of life. He only asked once What's an American?, and the looks he got immediately told him not to ask again.
So here he is, heart pounding behind his bright and cheery smile, laughing at jokes he doesn't understand. After a while it becomes overwhelming, even with a third cup of punch to help him along, so he retreats to the edges of the party, looking for a quieter room where he can recover before anyone notices that his smile is becoming strained. Bumping into someone coming out of a door he's heading into, Huaisang's cup of punch sloshes over his hand and may also risk dousing whoever he's just run into.
"Oh!" Huaisang yelps in surprise. "Sorry."
Life in Plastic
As soon as Huaisang notices the locals seeking shelter, he is similarly ready to seek safety, but he's still some distance from his own house and he's not sure how urgent the threat is. Is this one of the nuclear drills he's heard about, or the actual bomb threat? Most of the implications there remain a mystery to him, but he understands that there's some urgent threat chasing the locals into their homes.
Recognizing another out-of-towner like himself, Huaisang rushes over to them, hoping to beg shelter or protection. "Is your home close to here? Do you know what's going on?"
Wildcard
[Open to any of the scenarios, feel free to throw something at me or reach out at
Drip Drip Drown
So when he sees a new neighbour struggling with yardwork, he saunters over like he's Rock Hudson.
"Hello there, sweetheart. Trouble with the leaves?"
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He'd gotten as far in this yard challenge as learning that he's supposed to use a 'rake' which was usually in the 'garage'. Fortunately the perplexed neighbor who provided this information had pointed, so Huaisang had gone into the car stable and poked around until he found a wood and iron fan implement that resembled the object other people seemed to be using in their yards. He was doing his best to copy the technique of a man across the way, but while that man's efficient sweeps gathered all the leaves as easy as breathing, Huaisang's frustrated stabs had so far only resulted in tearing up the grass, crumbling the leaves, or just sweeping uselessly over the leaves.
Nearly ready to cry from frustration, Huaisang kept it up while starting to tremble from nervous fear. He'd been warned what might happen if he didn't conform well enough, and while he appreciated the warning, it had also instilled in him a constant terror about every single one of his failings as he tried to mimic his neighbors in activities that he couldn't begin to understand.
Maybe he should just pick up the leaves one by one. At least then he wouldn't risk damaging the ornamental undergrowth that each house had in a square out front. The ornamental undergrowth was critically important for some reason.
When someone came over to help, Huaisang turned grateful, pleading eyes on him, desperate for assistance and hoping that he wasn't in trouble for his inadequacy. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm doing it wrong."
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"Where are you from? Hong Kong?"
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He likes being called 'petal', and loves being able to hand over the tool so he can watch his new acquaintance performing the task correctly. He watches closely, expecting that he'll have to do it himself next time. "I am Huaisang," he introduces himself, timidly. "Thank you very much for coming to help."
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Norton was originally from 1954, so although some things about Sweetwater were strange--like whatever was pulling people from across time and sorting them into heterosexual marriage units--but the paranoia about communism seemed entirely reasonable to him.
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"Right. So long as you're not a Red, you'll be okay. But people might be suspicious at first until they know you aren't a Red."
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His new friend seems kind and helpful, advising Huaisang on proper behavior and how to avoid suspicion, so Huaisang dares to ask one of the more dangerous questions that he's completely stumped about. "What is an American?"
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"Well...the short answer is an American is someone from the country of the United States. I don't know why they're not called Statians instead, so don't ask. Although technically the country is the 'United States of America' so I suppose that makes it make a bit more sense. Culturally, Americans enjoy...um...apple pie, oddly chilly beer, a sport called baseball that's really just nutty cricket, and cars. Americans and other right-thinking countries in the world are in a war against Communism, only Communism isn't a country, it's a philosophy. So don't be Communist and enjoy apple pie and you'll be fine. Unless you anger the HOA. I've heard the penalties for violating the bylaws are murder."
That is Norton's version of a short answer.
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"Thank you. That does help." Even though he still lacks an understanding of what practices or beliefs fall into which schools of philosophy, at least he understands the overall structure of his situation now. "And thank you for being kind. My world is ... so entirely unlike this one. So different that I don't know how to describe it. We are governed by regional sects who pay nominal homage to an emperor rather than by an HOA. Each regional sect commands its own army, and the great sects have risen to power and wealth through their ability to suppress the ongoing problems of demons and restless spirits."
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Norton arrives at the party in his best suit and an elaborate mask reminiscent of an owl. It seemed appropriately Halloween-y to him. He sips some of the punch, although the odd taste puts him off and he spends most of the time just holding a glass in his hand and pretending to drink.
As usual, he smiles and laughs and puts on a show, but his eyes scan his fellow kidnappees the whole time, hoping to find someone who looks like a good possible mark. Someone he can convince to poke around the house while he makes sure Marjorie remains distracted.