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

[goatsongs]

[Okay, well. Chuuya tries to look as rigid and unrelaxed as humanly possible with his expression a polite, meaningless smile.]

Good afternoon, if it is afternoon, Luna. I'm not going to engage you in any social activity that doesn't have a purpose, or reveal anything about myself, because my thoughts and feelings are unimportant and risking people caring about me is pointless.

[hymned]

-- Wait, how in the world is that, exactly, supposed to be me?!

[goatsongs]

Am I wrong, though.

[hymned]

Do you want me to say 'truth' and have that be your question?

[goatsongs]

Of course you can pick truth or dare. Whichever you want.

[but if he goes for truth then yea]

[hymned]

[ listen do you take him for a coward ]

Truth, then.

[goatsongs]

[when it comes to talking about himself? maybe]

How close am I to the truth?

[hymned]

Far off. I've had plenty of conversations without a purpose or ulterior motive here, unless you count espousing the glory of our future emperor and winner of this competition Rollo with Nonon as something truly insidious.

[goatsongs]

And the part about not wanting to risk people caring about you?

[hymned]

I respectfully decline to comment.

[goatsongs]

...Alright, but I'm pretty sure that earns a punishment. From me or Patience.

[hymned]

I believe that counts as two different truths- I answered your first question quite clearly, thank you.

[selfimmolates]

[tbh between this and what julius liked most about the temple, julius is the most relatable person in this entire dimension right now]

[goatsongs]

[can't believe patience and chuuya did the same exact impression]

[artificialhighness]

[I'm pretending that this is going on at the same time as the Ray impression because it's perfect synchronization and must be done. She puts a hand over her mouth to hide what is probably a grin wider than any expression she's made since arriving here.]

Well done. It is as though I am speaking to the man himself.

[goatsongs]

Thanks, I try. Truth or dare?

[artificialhighness]

I will take a dare.

[goatsongs]

Sincerely apologize for something you did.

[Anything. Surely miss stubborn as hell no regrets has one thing to apologize for?]

[artificialhighness]

[She stops to think for a moment.]

Must it be for something done here?

[goatsongs]

If you can't think of one from here, home is fine.

[artificialhighness]

Very well. I shall apologize for not stopping the Ruin, before it started.

[There's something flat to the tone, a lot like it was before she roused herself for this game and while they were all still hanging out in the void. It's hard to tell if it's sincere. It's hard to tell who she's apologizing to, or when.

She doesn't elaborate.]

... Would you like a truth or a dare, next?

[goatsongs]

[the fuck is she talking about]

...truth next.

[artificialhighness]

[Who knows.]

If you had not been a poet, what would you have become?

[goatsongs]

[Chuuya has to think about it.

Really, really think about it.

'I have never had a real job in my life' think about it.]

...Librarian?

[artificialhighness]

[She'll wait super patiently! Robots always have jobs, but she's aware that humans may be more fickle and hobo-adjacent.]

Ah. You really do enjoy the spoken word, don't you?