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

a

[in_a_bottle]

[Ai makes a face and walks over, trying her best to ignore the bells.]

Are you new to this?

[hymned]

[ he grins a little sheepishly, but at least he wasn't trying to play anything with actual dynamics? imagine how bad that would sound with the bells. ]

I suppose you could say that? It might be more accurate to say that the memories are too old than too new, though.

[in_a_bottle]

Out of practice, you mean? That's something only a lot of work can fix, but it's not like we have room to do much else in here.

[hymned]

Just about. I haven't really had the time for anything like this since I was a kid, so maybe I should apologize preemptively for the sake of your ears.

There's not much to do here, though, you're right. It was even worse a little while ago when none of this even existed.

[in_a_bottle]

My ears are suffering already. [bells,] I don't know how you manage.

[hymned]

[ in wry deadpan: ] Maybe I've just been here long enough that it's already caused permanent hearing damage.

[in_a_bottle]

Do you think they're trying to torture us for failing them?

[hymned]

... I feel like at least some of them might be a little more... creative, than constantly tolling bells.

[in_a_bottle]

That's true. Though some of them were decent people, others... definitely explained why this always defaulted to murder.

[hymned]

Do you really think they had that much of an influence on the actions of those here? Even Ruin seemed surprisingly passive without people reaching out to her first.

[in_a_bottle]

Everyone here was chosen for a reason. The gods could suggest things, but wouldn't they want people they could sway in the first place?

[hymned]

That's true. But then again, we all received our choice of three when they made the invitation, didn't they?

I suppose by now everyone probably knows who my chosen patron was, given the nature of questions at trial, but despite his reputation, both Piety and Fortune made me their offers as well. What should that say about me, really?

[in_a_bottle]

Piety seemed like a nice enough person, but we didn't really talk. I liked my patron and the other two who offered to me. Beauty's... well, something, but an interesting something, and I felt Love and I had a lot in common. I just chose Merriment because that's what I've always worked for. Being an idol means making people happy and nurturing their dreams by having them support your own.

You know, I always wondered why Ambition didn't want me, but I got too busy to ask. Besides, outright asking things doesn't usually work, anyway.

[hymned]

Given some of those I know for a fact that Ambition made an offer to, I wonder if it was because they were trying to encourage a trait that certain people didn't have enough of in themselves.

But in the end I suppose I wouldn't know for sure. That's interesting, though. Outside of Cunning, most of the gods I've spoken to have been surprisingly candid. I'd wondered why Piety would have selected me, given that no Elympion puts much stock in higher powers these days, much less my family, but then they answered later that they approached those whom they felt had an unshakable conviction.

It makes one wonder how much of our lives these gods have seen, or if they're gambling semi-blindly from only fleeting impressions and judgments.

[in_a_bottle]

So it was a self-improvement thing? Maybe. They definitely each have their own reasons.

[hymned]

Could be. For all I know, Ambition might have looked at you and decided you were sure enough of yourself already. I couldn't say.

[in_a_bottle]

I'm in the business of working with what people think of me, so I suppose it was important to think about. Is it like that for you, too?

[hymned]

Similar enough, maybe. I was something of a public figure, I suppose, being the director of a large, and more importantly, influential corporation. Not quite to the same extent that the CEO might have been, obviously, but... well-known enough to have my own following, at the very least.

[ closes eyes at the canonical julius fanclub ]

[in_a_bottle]

A following for a businessman? I guess it's true, anything's got fans these days. It must've been a lot of work.

[hymned]

I'm as surprised as you are, really. Might've been the GHS developments I was responsible for, though- though I think some of the other people here call them cell phones?

[ gotta love world specific terminology. ]

I wouldn't say I'm as much of a businessman as I am an engineer, though. I have a colleague who amassed a similar following for his advancements in medical technology, so I suppose just about anyone can be subjected to this sort of treatment.

[ it's also definitely not because they're attractive or anything, please ignore the screaming of certain people in discord. ]

[in_a_bottle]

Fangirlism and marketing. That's what it usually boils down to. As long as you know how to approach your fans, you've got a good start. In the old days, idols were supposed to be polished and untouchable, but nowadays, they have to be someone you can feel like you know so fans watch them grow and support them. What's it like for you?

[hymned]

It certainly keeps PR busy, that's for sure.

I don't mind the things that you'd expect to come with the job, really. Press conferences and statements or the general schmoozing and making nice with investors and bigwigs that happens at company events and dinners... On the other hand, my landlady and brother both probably could tell you a number of interesting stories about certain fans who have ah, tried to follow me around.

[in_a_bottle]

[Ai bites her lip and would probably pale if she weren't decomposed and covered in bandages.]

Please tell me no one shipped you lingerie.

[hymned]

... I can very happily say that if anything like that has ever happened, the secretaries and mail sorters at Spirius have never informed me of it before they caught it and tossed it out.

[ he does not want to know. ]

[in_a_bottle]

I'm glad for that, at least. I really do love the fans, but some of them go a little overboard trying to get noticed.