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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."
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!
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!
WEEK 6, SUNDAY
CHUUYA
Chuuya,
Thank you. I had to ask Yu to read your letter for me, but I promise I'll try to stay alive until the very end. I hope you're doing alright where you are. It's only a little bit longer.
-Sieg
[The rest of it is written in Japanese:]
Thank you very much. I had to ask Yu to read your letter to you, but I promise to keep it alive until the end. How are you.
[There's also an apple cake that somehow was able to be fit into the mailbox!]
no subject
JUDE
Jude,
Better than they should.
I know the last thing you want to hear is an apology. But I'm sorry. Everyone misses you. Everyone wishes you had it better off
I'm sorry I stole that from you for my own wishes.
I don't expect your forgiveness. I just hope this doesn't sour you to others because of things I've done.
--
Jude,
There's no ruins to explore, but there are jellyfish! And an aquarium full of fishes! It's really cool.
[ Childish drawings of fish here. ]
I'm going to check out the beach next. If I see anything of interesting, I'll try writing again.
-The Great Cinquita!
[Another letter, written in Romanian:]
Jude,
I never got the chance to talk to you as much as I would have liked. From the few conversations we had, I do think you're a good person. Reliable and kind... there's somebody specific you remind me of. I don't think you know her, since you're not from earth, but there's this saint I know. Her name is Jeanne d'Arc, or Joan of Arc. Despite everything that happened to her, she still believed in the goodness of humanity.
I think the two of you would've gotten along well.
-Sieg
[Then, in Japanese:]
I wish we could've talked more. Sorry, I didn't know your favorite.
-Sieg.
[There are several Poale-n brâu included.]
JULIUS
First, I suppose I should apologize for taking so long to reply; I am not a terribly fast writer, and much has occupied my time. I was glad to hear from you, though, and I pray that you are at least able to spend your remaining time peacefully-- I've missed our conversations, but perhaps you have good company yet, wherever you may be.
You wondered how much this weighed on me, before. The truth is that I still find it somewhat heavy. Nobuyasu once asked me if it was really all right to wage war for the sake of peace... I did not have an answer for him then, and I think I still do not. All there is to do is to press forward and hope we may find purification in the end, though it is true we must still live with the choices we have made.
If I should join you soon, then at least I know I will be in good company, but I do hope you will forgive my absence if I should not. There are still things I must do, heavy as my heart may be.
--Ishikirimaru.
--
I got your letters at the same time, so I think it's safe to say your first one was delayed.
Sorry. I think I've already made your advice useless. I'm dumb enough to commit myself to something, and guard it like a dog with a bone, no matter how reckless or unwise it is.
Then again, I'm sure you already knew that.
It always feels like I'm playing catch-up. I figure things out after the opportunity to do something about it has passed me by, leaving me grasping at air. And I let it happen over and over.
... What's it like, over there? I've heard Patience is looking after everyone that's died in the course of the game, though apparently dead gods go in their own separate space. Is she a good host?
[The final one is in Romanian:]
Julius,
I don't need my wish. I can keep living as the dragon preventing humanity from becoming nothing more than spirit waves. I'm not pretending anything. My wish is only to make myself more at ease with guarding the Grail.
That said, I'm not planning on dying just yet. Even with where you are now, I hope you're taking care of yourself.
-Sieg
[Then, in Japanese:]
Julius,
There is no need for a wish. I can live like a dragon that keeps mankind out of the waves of the spirit. I do not claim anything. My wish is only to make me easier by keeping the Holy Grail.
That said, I will not die soon. Even where you are now, I hope you take care of yourself.
-Sieg
[He'll also find tomato cream-puffs and several Poale-n brâu.]
RAY
Respect Ray,
Another side how? Another side kēxuéjiā say I, existence; dàn, I negative know one thing.
Favor answer depend I question you.
Murder hand negative find. Murder you say how? || what?
Respect word
I end
Shang Qinghua
--
Sorry.
I assume your response to that is some PG-13 version of "fuck off," but I need to get that out of the way.
We're still trying to figure out who killed you. We have some suspects, but nothing that's super definite. It's actually pretty funny how much everyone depended on a 12 year old to figure things out.
See you later.
--
Beauty's wing had this and I was thinking for a while about how excited I was to go around with you, so you could tell me more about the history and stuff that you know way better than I do, even though it's supposed to be my world. I asked him to see if, when all of this is over, he'll be able to bring back this replica of Venice for a little bit, just so that you could see it. It's beautiful, and the canals are super pretty. I think you'd like it a lot. Fingers crossed!
I've had to work a lot more with others this week. Beauty told me that I should be comparing letters that other people got to mine, and seeing what the differences might be like. I guess you should probably tell me as much about things on your side as you can?
[Included are about two dozen photographs of the landscape and architecture of the venice replica in beauty's wing.]
--
I'm sorry we were unable to find them, Ray-kun. We have all been working hard since you left, however, and I pray that we will not fail you further; please wait for us, if we should not meet again by the end.
Thank you for trying to ensure his safety, by the way. We found out what you did, and while Nito-kun was upset... it was the right thing for you to have done. We've made arrangements for the second deal you were working on, and will try to see that it goes to good use if we are successful.
You truly did more than most of us knew, I think, and it is a different place without your presence. I hope that when we meet again, it will be under better circumstances.
--Ishikirimaru.
--
Ray:
I heard from Sasuke that you advocated against deactivating me. Thank you. I believe I owe you one now.
If you require anything of me before we return to our respective homes, let me know.
- Connor
--
Thanks for the help. We may have fucked up the execution of it though.
Senri found out about the brooch. He cried, which isn't surprising. But he's not mad.
-- Takaomi
[There's something else under it, but it's been scribbled out so thoroughly it can't be read.]
--
Ray,
Sorry.
-Sieg
[There is a cake that almost looks like the ambrosia from the trial.]
ZOE
Zoe,
I killed you to keep both Piety and Luke alive. If Luke survives, my wish still has a chance of being granted, regardless of whether I'm there to see it or not. That's what matters to me, even if it shouldnt have cost your life.
That's your explaination. You can hate me for as long as it takes. I'm sorry I didn't get caught. I'm sorry for the suffering I put you through, and what I'm putting your loved ones through.
If they kill me, know you have the first shot. I won't defend myself this time.
--
Zoe,
I received your letters. Both of them. Thank you.
I don't know where to begin. I suppose I should tell you that I have been thinking about everything you said to me. I didn't realize how much I relied on your counsel until you were gone. I tried to speak with some of the others in the past week, but it's not the same. It's not part of my programming to say something like this, but... I miss you. I'm looking forward to being reunited with you, though I wish we had more time before we're forced to part ways.
I know you're concerned for me. Your suggestions have been noted, as always. But even if I wanted to deviate from my intended purpose, there's no room for me to do so in Detroit. The deviants recognize me as a hunter of my own kind. I already tried to destroy their leader, and he deactivated my predecessor in return. Seeing your body made me realize I don't want to lose the time I've spent in this competition, but I can't turn away from CyberLife. I belong to them. My entire existence revolves around them. I don't know what to do, Zoe. I don't know if there's anything I can do. It's becoming increasingly difficult to disregard the fact that I've been compromised.
There's one week left before this competition is over. I hope you will stop blaming yourself for what happened in that time. We both knew death was an eventuality we had to be prepared for. If you want to go down this "rabbit hole," then I should start to apologize for being unable to protect you that night. But I won't, because I understand you wouldn't appreciate it. I'll speak to the gods about keeping in touch after the competition is over, however. If we're lucky, it may be considered a "small" wish. But whatever the outcome of this competition, I'm glad that we became friends.
I will see you soon.
- Love, Connor
[Also, a picture of a guitar playing twister.]