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GRAVEYARD 2.0
GRAVEYARD Well, that sucked. But no matter what your death was like—whether it was something peaceful or traumatic, you'll find yourself waking in a completely white room on the floor. Small and empty, there isn't anything else there besides an open door to walk through. But before you do that, you'll probably notice that whatever injuries you may have had, including whatever may have been the death blow, are now gone. That's exciting. Stepping out of the room, it seems that you're in a large... house? with three different floors. Everything from floor, ceiling to furniture is completely white, except for the drawings that are plastered to the walls in each room. These are all colorful, drawn in colored pencils and crayon, and resemble a child's drawing. The other notable thing are the windows. While they're present all around the building, looking out of them only shows TV static. Besides that, everything is furnished with the absolute bare minimum of each room. The first floor is all typical common areas one would find in a house. There's a kitchen, living room area, laundry room, dining room, and a main hallway where the stairs are. There are also helpful drawings in these rooms that show the rooms much more lavishly decorated than they actually are. There's a door that appears to be the way to exit the building, it's locked. The second floor consists of nothing but twenty bedrooms. Each room has one queen sized bed, an empty dresser, and an attached bathroom with only a sink, toilet, and shower. Like the first floor, each bedroom has drawn pictures that show it looking much more lavish than it actually does. Thanks for nothing, artist! The third floor only has two rooms. One appears to be a home office with nothing but a desk and two chairs, one behind it and one in front of it. While there's blank pieces of paper and crayons on the desk, the note that was previously there is gone. The other room is much larger, and it's completely empty save for the many drawings lining its walls— in fact, the walls are covered in them, much more than in any other room. On closer inspection, though, it seems like these aren't actually drawings? The papers seem to be showing scenes from the living area. Everything from inside the hotel to the areas beyond the bridge are visible here. However, when curfew hits on Thursday nights, they revert to being normal drawings! Except for the fact that they're all drawings of stick figures being murdered in various ways. Well. At least there's plenty of things to draw with, if you get bored. Also, a handy link to the previous post. |
NAVIGATION locations ₓ˚. statuses *+:｡ ic profiles :ₓo ic rules ･ﾟﾟ･｡ audience requests murder proposals ｡✧o private conversations ･ﾟo｡ curfew ･ﾟ✧ memories |
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[ Even her smile is tired. ]
And for encouraging me.
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[she seems pleased! and after Dorothy takes the tea, Sharon reaches out to grasp at one of her hands]
I thought you could use it. It is no easy decision, to choose to take a life. Whatever the reason may be.
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But that trial was...
[ even worse. ]
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[quiet for a moment, before leaning in to give her a one-armed hug, careful not to knock the tea away from her]
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I hated that. All of that. I felt like little more than a puppet and now I find out that so many people knew. So many of them were fine with it.
Like how I felt didn't matter at all.
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[. . . well. admittedly, this isn't usually Sharon's role in things, is it? the last time she held someone this closely had been. . . so, so long ago. Alisa, when she was much younger, right? back when she had fallen and scraped a knee and needed the embrace of an older sister to chase away the pain. Alisa was far too old for that now, and Irina had never been the touchy-feely type]
[Sharon doesn't know Dorothy nearly as well as she does Alisa. she had only spoken to her a few times prior to her untimely death. but. . . to Dorothy, she owes her life. to Dorothy, she owes everything. the (hopeful) ability to go home. the ability to live. the ability to see Alisa and Irina again, even if--]
[. . .]
[. . . she doesn't have all of the lore, but she had seen the trial and the execution]
[she presses one hand against the back of Dorothy's neck, holding it there gently]
. . . did someone tell you what had happened? [she asks quietly, tone even] Why your name was on that invitation? Why your hair matched what was in Lady Ochako's hand?
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I imagine, since Blanca was the only one who knew my target in our Faction, he helped them target me specifically. They would gain more nova if they voted for an actual killer, after all.
Xie Lian would have been able to play innocent, because he and Ochako were very close. Then I could be framed and forced to confess to my actual murderer and then they could save me and it would be fine.
[ Dorothy lets out a humorless laugh. ]
... Really, the only thing I could do was let myself die at the end.
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[she can fill in the blanks of the plan from there. and really, it was a clever plan. it ensured that the group would receive a large amount of nova from voting correctly, while ultimately sparing Dorothy's life. but. . .]
[clever or not, had it been Sharon, she-- . . . probably would have felt the same way, right? like a puppet, dancing on someone else's strings, without even knowing they were there]
[and that is. . .]
[. . .]
[Sharon draws back from the hug a bit, her hand coming to rest on Dorothy's shoulders. her expression is stern]
Your life is your own. You do with it as you please. No one should be allowed to toy with it, good intentions or not.
[her hand squeezes around Dorothy's shoulder]
Though I doubt you need to hear me say that.
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But Sharon says what hardly any of the others had acknowledged, when Dorothy had realized things all too late to stop them. Her life is her own.
Even though she'd had to yank that control back at the very last minute, she... ]
... Thank you, regardless. For saying that, Sharon.