THE GRAVEYARD

[divus]

THE LANDING

You’re having an out of body experience. That’s how it starts, dying. There isn’t any pain anymore, and for a moment, not much of anything else. Your thoughts are a dim hum in the back of your brain, the tips of your fingers seem miles away. Despite that, you find yourself moving, moving, moving from the last place you were in your own body and forward, until you reach a door that you haven’t seen since the beginning of the game. A door that wouldn’t open. A door cold to the touch and seeping with mist. It opens before you, and as if of someone else’s design you walk through it. As it closes behind you, you get the distinct feeling that if you turned around, you’d find it vanished.

What takes up most of your attention, however, is the tolling of church bells. They clang in rhythmic, almost maddening persistence--seems you’re just going to have to try and ignore them, as they show no signs of slowing or stopping, wherever they are.

Once the cacophony becomes easier to manage, the bong, bong, bonging evening out to a pulse inside your ears, you realize that where you are seems to be a world that's incomplete. The floor is nothing but a landing of invisible matter, a spooled red carpet leading you to a few rows of pews and a lone confessional.

You will notice, immediately ahead of you, a cute little mailbox fit for a suburban home. It bids you welcome, though the cheery paint job is a bit muted in this dark place.

Simple and neat furnishings dot the edges of where the landing seems to be: railings mark the unseen edges and draperies and sconces float in the void, giving an illusion of walls. Be careful, however, because they can easily be fallen through if leaned against. Fortunately, someone seems to have kept that in consideration, as a helpful sign warns just this.

On one side of the confessional, a room with bookshelves, a writing table, and pens and paper has been provided: a minimalist study for when you need a bit of privacy to think. On the other side, a wing of dorm-sized, lockable bedrooms provide another bit of space to oneself. There may not be enough for everyone, but nobody really has to sleep--so just take turns!

To the left of the pews, it looks like a miniature bar has been crafted with a small but decent selection of drinks. There's a small television seated on the counter, but it only seems to ever work two times a week: the week's opening announcement on Monday mornings, and Saturdays, tuning in at the beginning of the trial and tuning back out again at its conclusion. There's also a piano to one side of the bar, allowing anyone to provide musical accompaniment to their drinking.

Perhaps most interestingly, an ornate black doorway at the far end of the room leads to a curving hallway that ultimately leads to what appears to be a temple. It's similar to the altar room they'll remember from the living side, but there are no power inscriptions, and the only furnishings are wavering, grayscale candles on the walls that never seem to burn low and great sculptures of leaping rams. The two black-marble statues meet in the center, curved horns joined above a platform, decorated with nothing but a lone offering bowl. The dark marble of the item is cracked, but it seems like it'll still get the job done. Try sending something, if you wish!

Maybe this place is meant to be more. But for now, Patience is the only notable figure you have to place your attention on, and she comes forward to welcome you immediately.

"Welcome to my dominion," she greets in her usual, cheerful candor, and points at your hand, where you hold your godly token. "Now that you've been eliminated, I'll take that back and return it on your behalf. Don't worry, though, I'm not leaving you empty handed."

OOC NOTES

Hello, eliminated competitors, and welcome to the graveyard. Although it isn't much to look at, now, this area will be growing and expanding in time with the help of your characters' actions and participation in weekly events. What they unlock will have an impact on the living side, overarching plot elements, and ways to communicate between both planes!

When it seems like there isn't much to do, there's always one option left: gathering information. So sit back, enjoy the afterlife, and put on your thinking cap!

full navigation.

locations ♦ taken ♦ profiles ♦ weekly curfew ♦ murder proposals
ic rulebook ♦ temple offerings ♦ private convos

Comments

WOOLOOLOOS INTO THE GY

[artificialhighness]

[Luna drifts in afterward, the shadow to Newt’s pompously blazing entrance.

She doesn’t bother announcing herself, but you can find her curled up in the pews either listening absentmindedly to the ridiculously loud sound of church bells shaking the nonexistent rafters, or watching the scant inhabitants of the graveyard with something like disdain or disinterest.]

[goatsongs]

[And on a slightly gentler note than his response to Newt:]

Hey. ...I was hoping you'd make it through.

[artificialhighness]

[She's quiet for a moment, regarding him expressionlessly, before her head cocks. There's a strange light in her eye.]

I see. What did you think of the last trial, Chuuya? If the dead have any connection to the living, that is.

[goatsongs]

We don't get to see it. I assume it was a shitshow because it was this group, but I don't know what happened.

[artificialhighness]

Oh, I'm sure it was.

[There's a curl to the faint smile she allows to shine through, though it shifts back to that odd intensity as she watches him.]

Especially judging by Newt's presence here.

[I'm fudging timelines so that exposition things are happening at the correct times, don't @ me.]

[goatsongs]

[ats you]

Killed a god, huh. More impressive than I expected from him.

[artificialhighness]

[rude tbh]

It's not so hard to kill a fallen god on their own. Of course, there are many who worship them too blindly to think of it.

[There's a shard of something harder in her voice, though it's half-hidden under the smooth current of it. There are many things hidden under the surface of that silence. But she slips seamlessly back to flat baseline in a moment.]

I suppose it hardly matters anymore.

[goatsongs]

Harder than picking on a child.

[Not that that says a lot.]

What happened to you?

[artificialhighness]

[...]

You don't agree with the choice.

[It's not questioning, particularly -- not about the disagreement part, anyway. She's simply remarking on it, echoing like a doll in a temple.

There's a brief pause, and then she reaches up and touches her chest lightly with one hand, a lingering gesture. Her voice is flat, as though in recitation.]

In order to end the game, a majority must be reached. The more gods there are, the harder consensus is. The harder consensus is, the greater the conflict. It was useless. Endless.

Therefore, I decided to deal with the source.

[goatsongs]

I don't agree or disagree. You're right about more gods making the game last longer, I don't blame you for taking that action.

[He'd still be pissed if she went after a god he likes, but strategically, it makes sense.]

But you're here, and Newt was the one executed, so someone else obviously disagreed with you.

[hymned]

Admittedly, you are not a face I would have expected to see here this soon.

[ Less for how harmless she isn't- no one that inscrutable is- and more for the fact that he doesn't feel she would have revealed her hand so soon, if it were something worth killing her for.

And he also doesn't feel like she'd go down without a fight, somehow? Hm. ]

So. How has this all turned out, in your opinion.

[artificialhighness]

And I did not expect to be here at all.

[There's no particular bitterness to the declaration -- there's a sort of blankness to it, almost surprise, even though there's been mumblings from several different people about paying tribute to the dead or sending them offerings. She's never bothered with that.

She watches him for a moment, caught between thoughtfulness and something else, before shrugging.]

It was an ugly contest, and I was ready for it to end.

[hymned]

[ He levels a measured glance at her through the bottom of his glasses. There's more he has to say or ask, but first- ]

By your own hand preferably, I would presume?

[artificialhighness]

No. I wouldn't say I have a preference.

[Her eyes, which have rarely followed her fellow graveyard gents, slide away once again and she stares down at the wooden grain of the pew.]

It's simply something that must be done.

[hymned]

[ 'Must' be done, necessities and ugly deeds all. Funny how this subject keeps coming up, somehow. ]

What, taking matters into your own hands? I'm well aware there's some parties here who are of the opinion a quicker end to this contest is a more merciful one.

[ 'Are you saying you're one of them?' ]

To that end, perhaps a strategy entailing calculated, precise strikes to eliminate certain targets would result in less overall bloodshed in the end. But if I'm to believe you when you say that you don't have a preference, you would have just as well just watched things play themselves out to their conclusion.

[ ... But she didn't. Or at least, she's here now, for some reason, and it's much more likely she involved herself somehow rather than simply be targeted at random. ]

Which is it, I wonder?

[artificialhighness]

[What are wishes, if not necessities and ugly deeds? When you bring together a group of people with strong enough wishes to be divinely chosen, you have to wonder what that will lead to. Well.]

You can call it mercy, if you'd like.

I deal with the death in front of me.

[Unlike the majority of her time on the side of the living, there's less of a sense of serenity to her voice. There's a stillness and a hollowness to it, as though she's finally showing the mechanics that tick away on her insides. Almost.]

I don't have a preference as to who does the dealing, or how. It's quite simple. I stopped tolerating it.

[hymned]

... what was it that you would have wished for, Luna?

[ a world without strife? a world without conflict, a world without war? a world without death?

the way she speaks almost reminds him of something. maybe similar sentiments in others here, tweaked and bent just a little. it's not something he can quite condemn.

besides. he knows he has no ground to be standing on if he'd wanted to moralize about death. there's a reason he doesn't bother, and it isn't because they're all being revived at the end of the competition. ]

[artificialhighness]

I will eliminate death once again.

[It's immediate, without hesitation, low and fierce.

Perhaps she's saying it half to herself. Perhaps she's simply speaking into the ever-present void, but there's nothing there that wavers. She doesn't use the word 'wish'.

Because a wish is something granted.]

As many times as it takes.

[arockstar]

[After he's done with his grand entrance, he sits down on the pew next to her.]

So things didn't go exactly to plan, huh?

[artificialhighness]

... On both of our parts.

[She uncurls herself a little when Newt comes a-calling, propping her chin in her hand as she regards him, searching and bemused at once.]

I imagine you have stories for me.

[There's a lot she should catch up on, after all. Death is a little inconvenient for that, even if I keep forgetting when she died.]

[arockstar]

As do you.

[He reclines against the pew, resting his arms along the seat back.]

I took care of the little errand you asked me to run.

[He spares at glance in Chuuya's direction and then briefly touches a finger to his lips. Shh.]

And then I caught Ruin in the altar room. She surprised me, since I figured you'd have taken care of her by then, but lucky for me, I had the knives from the kitchen. I slit her throat and tossed her off the cliff in the west wing. Little treat for the monsters.

[artificialhighness]

[She follows his gaze briefly and then dips her head.]

If you'd like, you may simply attribute it to me. I don't mind.

[He did keep his word, after all. Remarkably so. There's the faintest smile, and it grows slow and satisfied like a cat's as he describes Ruin's demise.]

I'm afraid she had guardians when I was with her. I do hope they enjoyed the fruit of their labors. [in so many senses of the word; there's certainly an ironic edge there, sharp as glass, but it smooths out as she settles back too, getting ready for the long haul] But first, tell me of how the trial went. I can't imagine they caught you quickly or easily, given how our colleagues usually run these things.

[arockstar]

Hm. I just might, if it comes to that. No one here seems to know what's been going on in the temple proper. And did you hear? Some of the dead have ended up in a separate section. We can't move between them.

[So if Ai's over there, they're in the clear. Or, well, he's in the clear. He'll throw her under the bus if it comes up, now that he has permission. You're a pal, Luns.]

Guardians, huh? Damn. I suppose we should've seen that coming. Maybe if we'd gone after her together, things would've ended differently.

[...]

And thanks for taking the fall there instead of me. Not that it mattered in the end, but, still. Could've been me.

[And dying by lightning strike was way better.

Anyway.]

The trial went swimmingly up until the last... Man, hour? Half hour? It came down to the wire, that's for sure. I'd flown totally under the radar until Ray eliminated one of the suspects and we found out there were three killers, all aligned to different gods. Someone got suspicious and suggested Disorder because of my trick with Mutiny.

[That gets a big eyeroll. For that to be the thing that gave him away, of all things, during a week when everyone had to use their powers.]

I outed myself then and tried to play the idiot angle. It worked pretty well, shockingly, but Ray caught me in a lie with his fucking lie detector power.

[He shakes his head. It's oddly poetic that Justice would tangentially be the one to bring him down.]

At that point, it was either fess up or try to claim that Ray was full of shit. We had all of ten minutes left at that point. It was over. I thought I'd have some fun with it.

[artificialhighness]

Quite a strange arrangement on Patience's part, unless there's a rhyme or reason to it.

[She has no preference either way, herself. It would be annoying to have to deal with some of the dead, and probably some of the dead to come, given their track record. But she's prepared for that; or more accurately, she no longer gives a singular shit about it.

She does have the luxury of metal kneecaps.]

It's possible that we could have dealt with Ishikirimaru and Takaomi if we'd truly teamed up. But it was all a gamble, either way. So long as Ruin herself is gone, then it is enough.

[It's not like either of them had gone into it thinking everything would go perfectly, after all. They had plans, and they have plans, and she's not one to think in what-ifs after the fact. This, too, is almost familiar.]

Mutiny. It was a good tool for causing chaos, but stands out easily. It's also possible that we overestimated the willingness of others to go along with the rule. It's not common for them to be able to find more than one suspect. The end of the trial is always chasing the wisps of possibilities.

[Anything that stands out. Anyone. There's a method to the madness, of course, but she doesn't bother bringing it up.]

I did wonder when Justice's new wave would show their true colors, but I must admit I did not expect Ishikirimaru and Takaomi to conceal themselves as well as it sounds like they did. If they had no other possibilities than Disorder...

Did you have fun, Newt? Going out in a blaze of glory, I assume.

[arockstar]

[He shrugs.]

Sounds like it wasn't intentional on her part. It takes a lot of energy to create a place like this, and Patience is new at this.

[He stans his bae, though. She has never done anything wrong in her life.]

Wait, they're the ones that killed you? Seriously? What happened there? And what do you mean by "Justice's new wave"?

[He's kicking himself for not figuring that out during the trial, but, eh. What can you do? It probably wouldn't have made a difference, anyway. No one would've voted against those guys.

But then he lets out a little laugh.]

I did have fun, actually. By the time they caught me, there was no point in trying to deny it. I miiight have been able to weasel out of it, but we only had a few minutes left in the trial and I figured, hey, if I'm gonna go down, I'm gonna take their precious worldview with me.