pandatreasure (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
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
[Though he's grinning now, so maybe he's teasing a little.]
no subject
no subject
[Okay, but back to seriousness for a moment.]
I'm being serious though. Don't break Ichigo just because you don't know what to say. That guy's kinda fragile, y'know?
no subject
[he sobers]
And I know.
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[If Rin suddenly has a distant look in his eyes, there's a good reason for that. Yukio's already been drifting further and further away, and it's getting to the point where he doesn't know what to do to help him. He doesn't want that to happen to Ichigo too.]
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I've never really had to force things before.
[they came so naturally? Akira was just good with dialogue choices]
no subject
I guess you've been lucky so far. But sometimes you gotta do it, especially when you're up against brick walls like Ichigo. Everyone's got their own problems holding them down, and sometimes you gotta punch those problems in the face to get through to people.
no subject
. . . right. Okay.
Feels kind of weird being the one asking for advice instead of giving it.
no subject
Yeah, it feel pretty weird being the one giving advice for once too.
So you gotta get out of whatever's clouding your mind like that so things can get back to normal. It's weird without the smart guy being the one doing the smart stuff.
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[it's been one hell of a ride, honestly. everything from initially waking up here, to witnessing his first in-person death, to someone choosing to murder, to having to vote for them to be executed, to feeling trapped and helpless, to attempting to reclaim some agency and failing, to finally deciding he had no choice but to commit the same sort of betrayal he had disparaged so early on in the game. . . to failing Tsumugi and Dazai, to watching Will Graham live on while he's dead, having taken two others with him. . .]
[he's tired. he's exhausted. he doesn't want to give up, but he feels bitter and lost and like the scum of the earth. he doesn't feel like Akira Kurusu, the defiant piece of garbage who walks to the beat of his own drum. he doesn't feel like Joker, the thief who sticks to his own justice and punishes evil doers by stealing their distorted desires]
[he feels like a failure, like a toy, like a plaything. and fuck that]
[don't get despondent. get fucking angry. own up your mistakes, your bad choices, the bonds you've broken and the pain you've caused. own up to it, and do something about it]
[there's no way Rin can see that internal monologue. no way he can know what's Akira is thinking. but there's a certain spark of life in the backs of his gray irises that wasn't there before]
All right.
[a grin. a slight cant of his head]
That's exactly what I'll do.
no subject
But as it is, he can see that something changed, maybe? Rin's not sure exactly what it was, but that sounds significantly more positive than Akira had sounded not too long ago. So maybe Rin got through to him in some way after all. And if he did, well. That's enough for him.]
Good. I know you can do it.
[FOREVER POSITIVITY!!!1]
no subject
We've still got work to do, you know?
[no longer talking about Ichigo. just. . . talking, in general]
no subject
[He just. Glances around the library.]
....broken.
no subject
My incentive should take care of "getting everyone out of here," but we need to make sure we're all in one piece when we do.
And-- ah. . . [sheepish] I think they're all broken because we messed up so badly with Graham.
no subject
[Translation: he's beating the shit out of Will once he's back.]
no subject
[aka Akira will help]