divus | THE GRAVEYARD

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Having a little fun won't kill you.

[being already dead and all]

I'm not entirely sure about that part, but we'll just have to see, won't we. You're making me miss my cat, you know.

Don't you always miss your cat?

[Anyway.]

Truth or dare?

I do, but the least you could do is not remind me about it.

[ Please. ]

Hm. Let's start with a truth.

What did you like the most about being in the temple?

The amenities, I suppose. Food of the quality we had is hard to come by in Elympios, for one, and constantly importing from Rieze Maxia can get costly. There's also the fact that apparently, for all the excesses we had, there was no sign of any strain in resources. Suppose that's only to be expected at a competition run by gods, though.

Truth or dare?

Yeah, I can see how that'd be a huge step up.

Dare.

[Julius has gotten enough truths from him.]

A dare? Hmm. Compose an ode to the person you like least here, and it has not be backhanded.

[ he's curious about how Chuuya will function under these very creative restrictions. ]

[Looks at Newt. Looks back at Julius.]

Can I just eat something disgusting as punishment for not being able to complete a dare?

... I wouldn't disallow it, but it isn't as if we actually have anything to eat here.

Well, I'm physically incapable of doing that, so we'll have to find something. Hey, Patience, what's the punishment for refusing a dare?

Spank him!

Not in front of the kids??

Spank him later!

...I'll take the IOU.

[sorry julius]

Edited 2019-03-26 04:31 (UTC)

You're welcome to do it in my place if you want it so badly?

[that wouldn't really be a punishment though]

I wouldn't dream of leaving you out. I'll spank you, too!

You're going to give him a heart attack at his tender age and he'll die twice.

-anyway, if you're talking about being left out, you haven't asked me anything yet?

[please direct your kinks toward the adult and away from conversations with children thanks]