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

DISCUSS

[divus]

[Just have fun, go wild! Accuse your friends!]

[goatsongs]

I didn't do it.

[No one has accused Chuuya - sorry, Ryan - yet, but he sounds defensive. He's already appropriately mussed up his uniform and is slouching against a wall.]

The thing with the cow was only one time, okay, and anyway that's totally different from stealing our offering bowl.

[arockstar]

[And here comes Newt Gina, wearing his wait her child-size dress and doing her best imitation of a... Southern American? Accent? Maybe? It sounds more Australian with a mix of Boston because American dialects are hard okay??]

That's exactly what a bowl-nabber would say!!

[She waggles her parasol in Ryan's direction.]

[goatsongs]

[Chuuya manages not to laugh.]

A bowl-nabber wouldn't admit to stealing a cow once.

[...condescending pat on the head, which he has to stretch up a little for.]

[artificialhighness]

[Luna is relatively sharp in this coat, though it's a little big for her -- at least it doesn't quite trail along the ground -- and this strange little hat. She absolutely has a curling mustache, the good ol' pipe and thick-rimmed, half-moon glasses to complete the look.



She immediately moves to prod Chuuya with her pipe.]

Garçon, it is not done to speak dishonesties before a god! Why, not long ago I saw you bumbling into the temple with my own eyes. I can assure you they are still sharp thanks to my time as a sniper in the guard.

[goatsongs]

[Chuuya tries to bat her pipe to the side.]

Yeah, because it's an open room we're all allowed into?

[selfimmolates]

The what now.

Incidentally, have you seen my photos of my kids. Photos that I don't have so I really don't know what Patience was expecting here.

[goatsongs]

[Oh no, Chuuya can't keep from laughing, and even when he gets back into character he's still smiling.]

Stole a cow on vacation once. It was there, farmer had a billion of 'em, I wanted to see if I could. Totally different.

Dunno, man, where'd you last see your photos?

[hymned]

[ Julius Dirk is reclining in one of the seats they have available to avoid having to put much weight on his bad leg, but also he. Seems to have a weirdly fancy two headed sock puppet on one hand because this is what we're doing now. He's petting and shushing it, them? with his free hand like they're actual dogs.

Is he enchanted, really missing his cat, or just being in character? Who knows. But anyway he looks up almost in mild alarm when Chuuyan speaks up, and only has to offer: ]

No one's saying you did yet?

[goatsongs]

They were doing to sooner or later. Don't tell me you've gotten that stupid on top of getting soft, Dirky.

[requiemed]

If I can ask you
When you speak of this strange cow
What do you mean, hm?

[goatsongs]

[oh no he can't not smile when being haiku'd at]

Stole a cow once. The farmer had a billion of 'em anyway, no big loss for him.

[arockstar]

[After being wrongfully accused!!! by one (1) swimming instructor, Gina stomps over to the pews to start nudging them around haphazardly. Hmm.]

[selfimmolates]

What are you doing.

[arockstar]

Foraging.

[scoot scoot scoot]

[hymned]

[ the other o'gallagher is just closing his eyes, sinking back into his seat, and very much pretending like he doesn't exist right now. please humor him. ]

[arockstar]

[Guess who ISN'T TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER Gina zips over to drape herself dramatically on Dirk's shoulder.]

Dearest brother, did you hear what that mongrel of a diving instructor said about me? The nerve.

[requiemed]

She attempts to hide
Evidence of her awful crime
Underneath the pews!

[arockstar]

Get out of here! I'm looking for the bowl, obviously! If we can find it, we can avoid this whole mess!

[But Gina's trying to shoo this grudge-holding swim instructor out of her space. YOU'VE HELPED QUITE ENOUGH YOUNG MAN.]

[selfimmolates]

[CLAPPING TO GET EVERYONE'S ATTENTION albeit awkwardly because he's still holding onto a suitcase.]

All right, to try and have an actual productive, non-stupid discussion about this...

[though he does not have high hopes]

Let's start off with a simple question: for what reason would someone even want the offering bowl? It wasn't exactly a work of art.

[goatsongs]

You probably wouldn't get much for fencing it.

[selfimmolates]

You'd know.

[in_a_bottle]

Oh, I love a good crime to solve. [She twirls her stethoscope around her heavily bandaged finger.] Maybe they're militantly religious and want to keep anyone else from making offerings to someone they don't believe in. Or maybe they want to keep it to themselves!

[hymned]

[ back in his chair after schrodinger's yeet bc yeah, bum leg, ]

... To pin blame on someone else so that everyone would distrust them, maybe? Though for what reason I wouldn't know.

[arockstar]

Well I certainly wouldn't have any use for the bowl! My poor reputation has been tarnished enough; I don't need a theft weighing on my conscious as well.