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

[selfimmolates]

The day after the trial. I saw and asked about the dog and it quickly led to him spilling his confused feelings on your... everything, because he's a kid who's still learning that people are varying shades of messed up grey.

[arockstar]

[His eyes drop. Well, that's embarrassing.]

I don't think that's the reason he's confused.

[...]

Did he like the dog, though? Do you know if he kept it?

[selfimmolates]

Yeah, he was playing with it even after the trial, and it was still around the week after when I visited him.

[congrats, newt, justice loves it.]

[arockstar]

[He smiles and lets out a little laugh.]

Good. I was worried he'd toss it because he was upset with me.

[selfimmolates]

I don't think Justice is that type of person.

[arockstar]

[He nods.]

I'm glad. My mistakes shouldn't keep him from enjoying himself.

[selfimmolates]

[he shrugs.]

Well, I'm glad for him. I'm guessing he told you too at one point that he wanted a dog?

[arockstar]

Yeah. He mentioned wanting a family in general, and I, uh, figured some stuff out about him... I thought a robo-dog would be up his alley.

[He gives Ray a slight Look at the mention of other secrets. He figures Ray probably knows, but it's something Newt's been trying to keep on the down-low for the little god's sake.]

[selfimmolates]

[you murdered three people newt, you don't deserve the right to keep secrets.]

Must've been a pain to get the stuff for it.

[arockstar]

Mm. Not really. Merriment helped me out, and he went easy on me with the favors, I assume because he and Justice are pals.

[selfimmolates]

Ah. That doesn't surprise me. Merriment's pretty helpful, too.

[arockstar]

He is. I like him, and I wouldn't be upset if he won either, but Justice deserves it more. He'd be a good leader.

[...]

Truth or dare?

[selfimmolates]

... Truth, but I'm not answering anything that could affect any of the living.

[read: don't bother asking who killed him.]

[arockstar]

Ugh, fine. Which god do you want to win?

[selfimmolates]

Well, Merriment, for one, since I'm stuck with him now.

But for this world as a whole, Piety would probably be the best leader.

[arockstar]

Hah, fair enough. I don't know Piety very well, but he seemed like an alright guy.

[He pauses.]

So that's how you're making your decision? Who would be the best leader?

[selfimmolates]

Well, he's also the favourite to win among the gods themselves—more than one has stated that if they can't win, they'd want him to. Even Cunning's got an alliance going with him.

[arockstar]

Huh. Good for him. Maybe he would be the best leader, then.

[He shrugs.]

I'm still pulling for Justice.

[selfimmolates]

He's not the worst choice. It just depends on your values.

I'm almost surprised that you don't just want the world to burn, though, given your apparent fondness for chaos.

[arockstar]

Just chaos with a means to an end. Did you really think of me as some classically evil villain hellbent on destruction?

[selfimmolates]

You don't have to be a villain to not care about a world that's not yours.

[arockstar]

True. I don't care all that much, though. Wishing destruction upon a world I'll never get to see isn't worth my time.

[selfimmolates]

Fair enough.

Truth or dare?

[arockstar]

Hm. Truth.

[selfimmolates]

[damn he already got the one truth he wanted, pick dare newt!!]

What's your wish?