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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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The fog clears a little further as she presses onward across the floor, the scenery starting to mold with color into a traditional martial arts dojo. It's all familiar, and in front of her stands a m̸̡̨̺̞͉̹̘͕̯͕̩͉̱̗̜̒̏a̸̢̹͙̬͖͂͜n̴̹͕͐, in full kendo uniform, bearing an identical shinai in his own hands.]
Do not hold back, Hikaru.
[There's a pang of fondness, of determination that swells in your heart. Out of the corner of her eye, Ochako may see a wisp of orange giving way to the figure of Hikaru, like a ghost in a mirror, standing in the same position Ochako now holds with her eyes still clouded.
Static seeps into the room at the edges, clawing at Ochako's memory in the search of that same nostalgic feeling, of that wisp of belonging.
Who... was this?]
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...okay, then. she turns her eyes back to the man before her. ]
Okay. I won't.
[ when it feels right... when the hikaru in this memory feels ready. that's when she moves - not a moment before. ]
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with the m̶̜̋̒a̷̢̡̛̛̛̩̲̣̟͓̥̫̣̼̤͐͂̇̀̌̚͜ͅn̶͍͇̠̝̪͙̬̲͓̐͊̒̆͑̌̐̌̀͐̒͂͠͝ ̶̛̝̳̟̩̗̿̀̉̓͜y̶̥̠̲̹̆̂͌͌͒͒̑̒͆̋͘ȯ̶̹̜̪̀͋͜u̷̡̩͕̝͚̝̯̩̤̗̬̖͛̾́͛́̾͂͂͒̈́̀̕ ̴̰̐̐͛̔͝c̷̨̢̢̛͉͇̭̝̰̱̜̖̦̮̀́̔̄̄̑̅́͜͠ą̸̺̯̥͍̝̱̥͙̘̲̬̻͚̝̈n̷̨̯̺̹̟̘̬͇͓̜̜̫͇̭͌̀̾̌͝n̶̛̺̣̥̯̊̉̂̍͂͊͘͠͠ͅǫ̷̢̛̟̱͖̤͔̯̘͓͕̓͂͌͆́͋̂̉̆̍͒̚͝t̷̛̛͙͈́̂̊͛̉̍̾̌̊͠͝ ̵̨̡̧̥̩͓̺̭͚͔̺̥̼̙͒̏̕͝r̸̗̥̅̇͌̆͠ē̶̢̛̠̯̱̺̭̈͋͐̽̇̔̅̍̃̈́͠m̴̨͙̗͓̹̳̠̲̻͎̪̮̭̄̈́́͒̆̂̍̔̆̎͒͠ͅê̷̛̛͕̺̊̾͋̀̔̀͂̑̏͆͜m̶̺̗͓͉͋̀̿͐̈́̔̋̚̕͝ͅb̷̢̲̙̘͓̱̟͇͑̋̍̒̈͆̌́͋̿̇̕̚̚ͅė̶̙̼͓̮̱̪̺̟̜̟͈͎̮̥̠́̊̿͆̈̈́́r̶̛͚̺̼̻͛̅͊͊̓̊̕ ̴̛̼̗̗̠̳̺͋͗͂̎͛̋͒́̎͘͝ẅ̶̛̳̘̀̂̉̀͋̂̒̈́̒͝h̸̨̦̬͎̳̭̜̘̟̙̅͊̇̈́́͒̈́͠o̵̡̲̜͉̖͒̋͗͘͜͝ ̷̧͉̱͕̰̮̗͆͒̅̀͜i̸̙̹̇̑̓͆̎̌͂̕ṡ̷̡͙̠̤͉͎̤̖̥̩̮̲͓̅́̑̐̕͝ͅ ̶̢̨̱̱̖̗̝̩̪̻͕͓͕̝̞̄͌̆̀̓̏̃͒́͐͒͆̒̚͘t̴̢̥̙͕̼̙̳̳̯̺̑̂̇̾̄̉͂̕͝ẖ̷̡͎̤͑̒̇̀̀̕͝i̴̢̢̼̯̖̦̲̼̫̮̺͕͓̙̓͋́͋s̸̢̟̗̥̺̬̗̫̤̜̹̯͋ ̷̬̟̹̘̙̖̝̺̞̫̼̮͈̌̐͜͜w̸̢̲̳̝͚̩̜̆̃̈́̃̽̄͛͌͜͠͝͝h̴̨̢͈̳̻͇̘̤̭̩͈̭͎̙̜̓̔̐̃ȏ̷̧̬͉̲̦͙͓̬̼͚̰̫́͐̀̈́͊͋̒̄ ̴̹̪͍̯̺͇̥̐̓̋̈͌̎i̵̡̢̪̜̻̫͚̹̻̬͓̻͉̙̣̽̾͊́̒s̶̡̧̗̳̫̦͕̘͈͕̱̫͇̏͋̊̉̒̊̄̃͂͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨͚̞͈̰̳͇̅͘ţ̵̗̲̫̑̉̀̆̔̿̒̈́̂̋͠͝h̵̝̐̈́̎͘ḯ̴͙̖̟̠͙̦̈́̊̚s̴̢̺͔̺̲̣̣͉̮̲̥̭̲͍̾̈̎̒͆̋̚
You know the rules of kendo already, despite how young you are. You know the places you are allowed to hit, and how to try to block. He taught you, didn't he?
The ghost follows Ochako's movements forward, a tugging sensation without controlling, a flare in her mind of familiarity. Watch to your right. Be careful with your step. And, very suddenly, very firmly, a call to strike.
The head, the shoulders, the wrists. Any will do, but she must make her choice immediately.]
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the wrist, then. ]
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With the confirmed hit, whoever is in front of her is no longer who it used to be. The shinai flickers, as though it didn't exist. It is someone Hikaru does not know at all.
But perhaps it is a familiar face to someone else?
Ochako.
Who is it that stands before you?]
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I- I don't know.
[ but the love in those eyes tug at the edges her mind. she knows this man. somehow, she knows him, and he knows her. ]
Someone I knew before...?
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To the side, in the static, the form of Hikaru has shrunken in size, to a child of no more than 6, shinai still in hand, a kendo match with a man over twice her size, but facing him as though the size does not matter. Nostalgia ripples through the floor, clawing into her mind to fill the static of their surroundings with something familiar. A place, a home, somewhere for this person to receive definition.
Where did that love come from?]
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though his face is unfamiliar, the sheer joy with which he looks at ochako, as he reaches out to ruffle her hair is not. there are only two people who love her enough to look at her the way this man does. she doesn't remember either of them, but she knows they were there, that they could never leave her forever. ]
Daddy...?
[ is this her father? she chances a glance over at hikaru - is this her family, too? ]
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Oto-san--
You know that this was one of the last days you ever saw him, and your heart aches a little. But you know he is only gone for now, and that he will be back someday. You think of him, with the weight of a sword in your hand, with a good blow against an opponent.
You know, and you act, and you are, because you are loved.]
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[ he will be back someday. she glances betewen this happy hikaru - happier than ochako thinks she's ever seen her, here in the realm - and she realizes, then, that they're probably more alike than she knew. ]
Daddy... [ her voice is a whisper, as she turns back to her father, speaking in time with hikaru's memory. her father smiles down at her, proud as he's ever been. ] I'm sorry. I forgot.
[ gone were his name, his face, his voice, and the words she'd hung on so desperately before. gone was the promise she'd made, to follow her own dream, but to do it to support them.
but somehow, she'd never forgotten that they had been there, or how much they'd loved her - that it was their love that shaped her into who she is, and drove her to try to be even better. with their family, with the love they've been given, she and hikaru can both be so much more. they are who they are because of this.
the pieces are still weaving themselves back together. but she remembers those eyes now, the comfort she's always found in them. she, like hikaru, throws her arms around her father's neck, and wonders at how familiar it feels when he hugs her back. ]
I won't forget again. I promise.
[ it feels like home. ]
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is it dinnertime? ]
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As she walks through the hallway, she'll find it's strangly open to the air, the sound of running water and a deer scare to her left. It's a cozy place, firmly traditional despite the skyscrapers visible in the distance.
The scent drifts in the direction of the home that sits just slightly apart from the dojo proper. It's getting late in the day, but there's a f̴̦̤̬̅͊͊̋͠ȋ̷̬̋ğ̴̦̯̙͕ȗ̸͚̰̤ͅͅr̵̰̘̤̍͝ë̵̛̱̪́̋̈́ leaning over some sort of textbook by the pond, easygoing and gentle if not a little dramatic as they sigh.
A̵̡͆̾͗̈́n̸̨͍̊̂̊ơ̴͎͐̓́ͅṭ̷̮̯̀̈́ĥ̵̝̗͒̑̚ë̵̮̘͙́̾̉̕͠ŗ̴͖̬̭͋̕͜ rides up through the property on a bike with a strangled, panicked yell, still in school uniform as they ditch their bicycle and dart straight into the dojo with very little grace, anxiety dripping out of every pore, very loud and even MORE dramatic than the one who now has burst into quiet laughter.
From the home, Ochako will hear a voice, first unfamiliar but then morphing into that of her own mother.
There he is. Hikaru, come help me, please.
Hikaru can be heard happily agreeing, the sound of clattering dishes and busywork starting up from beyond the open front door.]
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Y-yes! I'm coming, Mom!
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It is as she rounds the corner into the kitchen that she will see that same ghostly figure of Hikaru, dishing up rice into bowls, and Ochako's mother, portioning out meat and vegetables and pickled ginger.
Her mother will look up as Ochako enters, with a flicker to a woman unfamiliar for just a brief moment. But her smile is the same, her voice is the same.
Welcome home, Ochako.]
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[ she beams, both at seeing her mother - recognizing her - and seeing hikaru there, with her. they're experiencing this together. if this is how she can help hikaru, ochako is more than happy to do so.
so she goes to help with the rice, as well. ]
Is there anything else that I can help with?
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Arms out, dear, we know the boys will be hungry.
She will gesture to the plates she's already laid out. Hikaru has a pair of chopsticks in her mouth, energetically gesturing with a nod of her head for Ochako to follow her. She is also trying to carry three bowls of rice at once. This seems fine.]
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Coming, coming.
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They'll go off into a side room, attached to the room with the kamidana, with whoever the hell that is occupying the space before it. The space blurs, trying to reach into Ochako's mind to fill the space forgotten, to find someone calm and wise and respected.
Hikaru awkwardly sets her bowls down on the nearby table before enthusiastically taking her chopsticks out of her mouth, seemingly oblivious to the person in the other room.]
I'm glad you're staying for dinner! I don't get to have friends over all that much.
[There's footsteps through the front door, the Easygoing One saying good evening as they slip their shoes off. Again, the Realm reaches for an identity, finds nothing in Hikaru, and reaches for Ochako instead.
Two empty spaces. Who does she see? Who turns to see her, to say hello?]
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beside her... are probably izuku and tsuyu. ]
All you have to do is ask, Hikaru-san! We'll come visit whenever you like.
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Hey, did K̷̡̛̯̽̀͠ͅa̸̛͔͇͙̠̓̐̽̓k̷̨̐͆͝e̶̲͇̓ȑ̴̻͎ͅŭ̴͓̟̬̥̀͗́̐ͅ ever make it home?
[Tsuyu, her mouth already full of rice, nods vigorously. "Deku-san wrecked his bike against the pond again, but he's here."
From the shrine, Sensei lets out a long-suffering sigh, as if to say "of course he did."]
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[ the name tugs at a memory, one she hasn't had for a long time now. but even though she can't place it, a reply tumbles forth as if she's never missed a thing. ]
He's always getting into some kind of trouble, isn't he?
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Sensei carefully rises to his feet to cross over to the table, standing very still. His face says nothing but his eyes say food is delicious, and there's a quirk of a smile.
"It's good to see you, Ochako-chan. Is your family well?"]
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I... [ can't remember for sure, but she brushes it off, and goes with what her instincts tell her. ] They're okay. They're happy.
[ they were always happy, weren't there? no matter how hard things got, they never stopped smiling for her. ]
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It's good to hear. I hope they're telling you how much they love you.
There's the sound of rushing footsteps as someone else runs in, the flash of a highschool uniform and messy auburn hair that quickly turns to Deku instead, looking exhausted and sheepish as he kicks his shoes off at the door.
Hikaru only laughs brightly, bouncing across the room to throw her arms around his shoulders. He sighs, a long and mournful sound like it's the entire end of the world even as he messes up her hair.
Mom doesn't know I'm here, right? Please tell me she doesn't know yet.]
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