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
Lord Corrin... I can't offer a future to you... there's no future in death. And I don't really think I'll be leaving here.
no subject
Very touched by that...
But? More than anything, he just really wished he could ease that defeated look Niles had to him... He tries to give a squeeze to the hand under the fabric in attempt to comfort. His other, moved around Niles to gently rub his back. ]
It's only a 'I think', isn't it? [Like you don't know for sure?] I'll hope we do for the both of us. It won't be long now to find out. I hope you'll humor a prince ... with letting me be beside you until then, at the least.
no subject
[Niles slowly opens his hand and relaxes his posture.]
......We really have nothing left to lose, do we?
[Smiles a little, like he thought of something funny.]
To tell you the truth... I often thought of kissing you again... too bad that even with this handy blanket, that doesn't seem possible.
no subject
....
Can ghosts blush, he internally asked himself? well, he sure feels his cheeks get warm regardless of that last statement. He might have hidden his face into the fabric of the blanket in a bashful manner, hand still holding onto his. ]
...Y-You have?
no subject
[Yeah Niles has hit the FUCK IT WE'RE ALREADY DEAD point. Which is fine for now, he's not pushing Corrin away anymore.]
[In fact he's embracing Corrin again. A little too enthusiastically; Corrin might fall backwards if he's not ready.]
So there's no point in being reserved anymore, is there? We can fill the otherwise boring time here with all sorts of naughty activities...
no subject
And then that embrace happened. Corrin sure wasn't ready. He sort of stumbled backwards and now he's on his back and Niles on top of him-
blanket and all. Him gripping at the other didn't help, either... ]
...If it's anything like oil wrestling, I'd have to pass. [Again.] I'll earn your trust again, someday, can be a start...
no subject
All I would ask... is that you don't let go of me.