pandatreasure (
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
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GRAVEYARD
[You know you must have died—nothing is ever easy around here, certainly not quick, so you must remember burning, bleeding, falling, dying?
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
no subject
And that's it, she's more focused on Akira]
no subject
Love you too, Futayo. Ow.]
no subject
Like anger.]
no subject
no subject
...She has no idea what it is, because ha reading.]
no subject
Come over and sit down next to her, quietly.]
...It's....good to see you again.
[She can throw something at him - but he just wanted to express that, at the very least.]
no subject
[Enjoy your porn to the face. It might even have one of Niles' underwear bookmarks.]
no subject
He deserves this]
...Glad to see that you can get angry, too.
[This is an emotion he's okay with, tbh. And she's allowed to be mad at him.]
no subject
She turns her head, just enough that she can still see him in the corner of her eye.]
... I told the three of you to live.
[It probably won't last long. She's not capable of holding a grudge.]
no subject
[She just gets a wry smile in return.]
I meant to, but - I just said the wrong things at the wrong time.
[Revealing a motive and then inciting Rin to try and rescue them when they were about to be executed and all.
Which he hasn't forgiven himself for. He hasn't forgiven himself for a lot of things.]
no subject
[She just does what she does best and starts to stare.]
I told you to solve Dazai-dono's riddles...
wow gmail way to not give me this notif??
[THAT'S??? What???
He's fine with the staring - Futayo is Just Like This, soooo.]
...Yeah, I know. We figured it out, but...
[Not like they can really do anything about it now.]
no subject
Then why did you turn on Hiyori-dono?
no subject
[More like he didn't want to suspect his boyfriend.]
Obviously, I was wrong.
no subject
no subject
[He didn't think Akira would lie to him.]
...Like I said - I'm not a detective. And I don't ever want to be.
no subject
[Not that it really mattered.]
If one does not know what to in a subject that is not their speciality, they should leave it in the hands of the ones who know the subject. That is why I do not take part in debates.