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
[ The stubborn problem child is continuing to be a stubborn problem child. ]
no subject
[ no one wants him back anyway. he's accepted that fact, even though it hurts not seeing switch again. ]
no subject
[ Hiyori advances, leaving precious little space between them. He bends to look down, crouched and positioned so he is over Tsumugi. Were they not dead, Hiyori's breath would be on Tsumugi's face with each exhale and word that leaves his mouth. ]
How precisely was this game going for me before your death, answer me that! Why precisely do you think everyone is pulling for me now?
no subject
The others want you to win because they've seen you fight against all odds, Hiyori-kun. When you went for Will on the day we died, I just wanted to make sure that you'd stay alive and maybe bring me to justice to the very end like the shining protagonist that you are, but... I guess my luck is just that terrible.
[ it's my fault it's my fault it's my fault ]
Which is why I'd like to stay here for a while. So that I won't be able to harm anyone else anymore.
no subject
[ Hiyori is getting irritated. He is the first person to extol his own faults, slamming them down like sheilds and using them as swords as out suits him. He loves the stage because it is the only place he can be loved.
His personality is far too abrasive, otherwise. He attracts hatred just as much as he hates it in kind.
It's infuriating that one of the few things that made him get this far is now trying to pry his grip away. Hiyori knows his role as a protagonist is one that needs to be manufactured. If he's loved, it is not because he is extraordinarily deserving. If his heart has done through and reached people here, it's because there was a light shone on it to put it in the spotlight.
As the person who spun him into a take off heroism, both then and now, Tsumugi is too valuable to leave behind. ]
no subject
[ shit he can't cry right in front of hiyori now, how pathetic ]
I've committed far too many sins this time around. You know that, right? Is it bad to ask if I could just rest in peace for a little bit? I'm all too used to pulling all-nighters in the library so maybe now I can finally take a dirt nap like I've always wanted.
[ just... let him rest. he deserves as much. ]
no subject
Long
Silence.
And then: ]
Tsumugi-kun. Do you know what was provided as my motivation?
no subject
What?
no subject
Nagisa-kun and Jun-kun, for thier lives to be as they were without me. After that, the collapse of the Tmoe Foundation was on the line.
If Nagisa-kun has returned to those sad empty days, shut away from the rest of the world, and Jun-kun is back at the bottom, toiling endlessly with no chance of breaking through his chains and having his voice and talent reach anyone... yes, If I only served to be the undoing of my family, after we struggled to hold our footing...
I demand you, at the very least, let me save you!
no subject
but that snapped tsumugi out of it at least, and finally turns to look at hiyori more properly. the protagonist has truly come so far, hasn't he? tsumugi wishes he can be a little bit more like his former unitmate, yet... ]
I'm not sure if I can be of much help at this point, but... [ he's so exhausted even in ghost form but fine!!! fine. tsumugi's still a huge sucker for making protags achieve their dreams in the end, it seems. ] I'll help you get back to the world of the living, at least. It's the least I can do.
no subject
For a moment, Hiyori looks so lost.
He hasn't been able to touch anyone here, not their hearts or opinions with his words or actions. Now, not this way either. His hands grope for some purchase, but find nothing. In the end, the only thing he should do is draw them back, but he doesn't. He speaks, exhausted and vehement: ]
Tsumugi-kun! I want you to live! It's my selfishness, it's for my own sake! If there's blood on my hands, don't let it be yours! Go home and let me forget about you, forget about this! If you stay here, my failure to you isn't something that will ever leave me!
no subject
god, he needs to be held. he's been so touch-starved since he'd pushed dazai to the edge, do you know? ]
I-I'm sorry, Hiyori-kun... [ there goes the waterworks again. god, this is why he's been avoiding people nowadays. ] I'm sorry I failed you... I don't know what to do anymore, I just want to rest... C-Can't I at least have that?
no subject
But they're not; he isn't.
He straightens up and says in a voice that books no argument. ]
You have one day. Rest up! After that, you are not staying here.
no subject
[ pulling all-nighters at the library doesn't compare at all!!! so rude!!! ]
no subject
No! I didn't hear a word you said! Not a single bit of it!
no subject
[ he knows how nice hiyori can be but. it'd still be pretty surreal. ]
A-Anyways, I want to think more on... things, if that's all right. Maybe one day is more than enough.
[ it really depends on how his convo with dazai will turn out at this point, tbh. ]
no subject
[ Hiyori laughs, sounding entirely like he always does, and unsympathetic to Tsumugi's plight of hallucinating a much kinder Hiyori. ]
Take your time to think about it, Tsumugi-kun.