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GRAVEYARD
THE LAND OF THE DEAD
THE SUBURBS AND BEYOND
THE SUBURBS AND BEYOND
Arrival in the Land of the Dead is sluggish, as if there's a pressure in the air that you have to push through. It's strange, because all of the people—yes, there's hundreds of thousands of people around you, filtering in to the same location as you—seem to move with more ease. Fearful, fretting, confused, angry, peaceful. All manner of people from all manner of places have joined you in the march to your final resting place. It's... a little more anticlimactic than you were probably expecting, no matter your beliefs about the afterlife. Sorry about that.
Touching anyone around you will give the uncomfortable, chilled sensation that can be associated with ghosts. Most people, you'll just pass right through air. There are some that are a little more solid seeming, like you, but to them? You're the cold one, even if there's physical contact there. That's probably just as worrisome as the fact that color and vibrancy seems to bleed out of the world around you, as you follow a steady slop downwards to what looks like... a rubbish dump? It's more clear than your surroundings, at least, which have turned dull and formless—edges have lost their definition, and anything red is now a dim blood grey, a blue sky is almost steel, yellows have turned to muted sand.
Plumes of dirty smoke rise into an equally dim sky, lending more to the dreary atmosphere. The air is thick with it, and the acrid smell of chemicals, the rot of spoilt food and sewage, and the further in the more awful the smells and sights both are. Not a path of green grass or clean soil can be found as you explore the place you've come to rest. Just ratty weeds and yellowed, dead grass. Somewhere, somehow, there's some kind of electricity, considering the dingy lightbulbs that flicker occasionally, bare and casting everything in a sickly pallor.
The ghosts pass through the town, with a single-minded focus, while the more physical seeming remain in the holding area according to a bland attendant's instruction. You can fuss, you can throw a tantrum, you can try to fight them—but nothing changes, and they've seen this before. Might as well check things out.
Any injuries you're expecting from your death are gone, with no signs of what killed you visible. Count your blessings in this shithole. Because you're effectively on your own. There are no daemons in the Land of the Dead.
You are here, your home away from home. Aren't you so lucky? The town lay in shambles, with no city square, no streets, no real open space except for where one of the buildings has collapsed. Some businesses or establishments attempt to stand against time and decay, such as churches and other public buildings, but the roofs are full of holes and the walls are a breeze away from falling. Amidst the weathered, stone buildings are improvised shacks made out of repurposed garbage—old timber, hammered out tin cans, plastic sheets, whatever they can get their hands on. It's more and more apparent that the people here live in squalor, with these shanties and shacks and patched up shotgun houses, if they're lucky, and it's obvious that people are literally on top of each other. A single-room shack can house an entire family and then some.
The "and then some" comes in the form of people-shaped... things, purportedly men, quiet, with shadowed faces and shabby clothes. There's no real way to make out defining features, except for their ages at times. Some are unbelievably old, wrinkled, and weathered. They seem to be close to the more long-term residents of the suburbs, but are actively fearful of you, typically wary and shrinking away from any attempts to interact with them.
Get cozy somehow. Rooming is a free for all, and you'll be lucky to find a place you can all squeeze into.
Beyond the shanty town, there's a body of water encased in mist. The mist melds with the dreary sky, almost, so it's hard to see what lies beyond—but you can certainly hear the mournful, angry cries of some kind of birds from within. Let the mods know if you go exploring.
Touching anyone around you will give the uncomfortable, chilled sensation that can be associated with ghosts. Most people, you'll just pass right through air. There are some that are a little more solid seeming, like you, but to them? You're the cold one, even if there's physical contact there. That's probably just as worrisome as the fact that color and vibrancy seems to bleed out of the world around you, as you follow a steady slop downwards to what looks like... a rubbish dump? It's more clear than your surroundings, at least, which have turned dull and formless—edges have lost their definition, and anything red is now a dim blood grey, a blue sky is almost steel, yellows have turned to muted sand.
Plumes of dirty smoke rise into an equally dim sky, lending more to the dreary atmosphere. The air is thick with it, and the acrid smell of chemicals, the rot of spoilt food and sewage, and the further in the more awful the smells and sights both are. Not a path of green grass or clean soil can be found as you explore the place you've come to rest. Just ratty weeds and yellowed, dead grass. Somewhere, somehow, there's some kind of electricity, considering the dingy lightbulbs that flicker occasionally, bare and casting everything in a sickly pallor.
The ghosts pass through the town, with a single-minded focus, while the more physical seeming remain in the holding area according to a bland attendant's instruction. You can fuss, you can throw a tantrum, you can try to fight them—but nothing changes, and they've seen this before. Might as well check things out.
Any injuries you're expecting from your death are gone, with no signs of what killed you visible. Count your blessings in this shithole. Because you're effectively on your own. There are no daemons in the Land of the Dead.
welcome to the suburbs
You are here, your home away from home. Aren't you so lucky? The town lay in shambles, with no city square, no streets, no real open space except for where one of the buildings has collapsed. Some businesses or establishments attempt to stand against time and decay, such as churches and other public buildings, but the roofs are full of holes and the walls are a breeze away from falling. Amidst the weathered, stone buildings are improvised shacks made out of repurposed garbage—old timber, hammered out tin cans, plastic sheets, whatever they can get their hands on. It's more and more apparent that the people here live in squalor, with these shanties and shacks and patched up shotgun houses, if they're lucky, and it's obvious that people are literally on top of each other. A single-room shack can house an entire family and then some.
The "and then some" comes in the form of people-shaped... things, purportedly men, quiet, with shadowed faces and shabby clothes. There's no real way to make out defining features, except for their ages at times. Some are unbelievably old, wrinkled, and weathered. They seem to be close to the more long-term residents of the suburbs, but are actively fearful of you, typically wary and shrinking away from any attempts to interact with them.
Get cozy somehow. Rooming is a free for all, and you'll be lucky to find a place you can all squeeze into.
Beyond the shanty town, there's a body of water encased in mist. The mist melds with the dreary sky, almost, so it's hard to see what lies beyond—but you can certainly hear the mournful, angry cries of some kind of birds from within. Let the mods know if you go exploring.
full navigation
private conversations ✨ murder proposals ✨ curfew ✨ daemons ✨
private conversations ✨ murder proposals ✨ curfew ✨ daemons ✨
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It's strange still having physical form when he knows that was a fatal blow -- lightning, as always, of course, almost poetic if he really bothered with the stuff or wanted to sit back and contemplate poetry in the afterlife -- but no. He knows what his physical form is like, and this is it. Hm.]
Hmmm. Naito? [there's a brief cock of the head as though listening for something before he closes his eyes and lets out an almighty sigh, and then just as quickly makes a face] Bleagh. What the hell is this dump, is the afterlife this broken down, too?
[He doesn't wait for an answer but pulls his cloak tighter around himself instead and starts hunting for his things -- moving carefully, though no longer gingerly. This place is an absolute disaster area but it's not completely deserted.
It always pays to be on your toes.]
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[Well! That's a voice from a somewhat higher place! Looking up, indeed, that's Revali. Figures he'd get onto the first tall place he could find.
At least he's saying something to Suigetsu?]
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I mean, why would I know what to expect, I haven't died before.
Like, I seriously thought I was dead at the start there for a while... but this might be the great beyond, huh.
[Annnnd he's as much a chatterbox as ever. It's really too bad being executed didn't quiet him down any -- that said, he's watching Revali kind of like a cat watches anything small and darting, with open curiosity but also: consideration.]
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It isn't. It's just a place for us to be at after our deaths. You haven't passed on yet -- and if you feel tempted to, don't.
[Definitely sounds like someone clueless about death and stuff, the memory Suigetsu got and Kotetsu's statement during the trial proving it further]
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Is death a vacation. The real questions.]
Hahaha! I haven't got any interest in passing on, whatever that means. Part of why I'm here, after all.
[That probably doesn't make any sense but look, he was electrocuted like five minutes ago, give his coherence some time to unscramble. Also have a half-grin, cheeky.]
You're the expert here, huh. What's a place after death that's not the afterlife, just a dump dimension or something?
no subject
[......]
Perhaps this competition is the afterlife after all. I don't know.
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[Let's be real, he wasn't especially motivated by their mysterious competition in the first place; technically he totally committed team friendly fire. RIP to the Celestials but he had shit to do, honestly.
That said he's still just sort of lounging. On whatever pile of rubble he ended up on.]
If I remember, though, you're not real good about moving on either. You going to hang around, then?
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[Three weeks and that's still a sore spot! He misses his flight! He misses his wind magic! He's sure he'd kick Suigetsu's ass in a real fight, once they were both unnerfed!
Would he, though? Revali may be a fantastic fighter, but he's not invincible. Hell, he died twice already in fights. Add to that Suigetsu's watery skills and yeah, he probably wouldn't have it as easy as he thinks]
I don't see why not. As much as I hate to admit it, I have been reminded you don't have to like people to work with them. Feel free to thank me now.
[Death seriously hasn't made him any less pompous, geeeeeez]
no subject
[ she's just wandering around, poking through the heaps of... whatever ]
1/2
What's their god or angels even for if they can't fix up stuff like this??
[For real, what's the point of religion if your afterlife is a wasteland. Wow. You should at least have maybe a house or two??? He is Judging, Mirandan Catholics.]
2/2
Wait, wait, it's you, huh. How the hell'd you get yourself killed again, all these deaths were a real pain in the ass.
[That is probably his way of saying he is Displeased that you Died on him.]
no subject
[ well that's a bit of a knee jerk reaction ]
no subject
Wow, that was loud? What crawled up your ass and died-- Wait-- [did he realize that was insensitive] --Never mind, we know what died.
Okay, seriously! That's not an answer? Makes it sound like you died from the head injury.
[No, she didn't. He knows she totally didn't but he can't help it, okay.]
no subject
I got stabbed in the back and pushed out a window.
[ if she says it softly and fast, it's less embarrassing, right? ]
no subject
... Yeah, we figured there was some backstabbing going on but literally? Are you for real right now...
[At least he is a little calmer, cocking his head while he goes over this. Hmm.]
How'd you end up in a boat. Seems like the killer did a bunch of work after.
no subject
[ >( stop being mean abt her death, Suigetsu ]
I dunno, I think I was already dead by that point. Buuuuuut the window I fell out of was right by the canal? I think.
no subject
[Three dead and so many murderers everywhere and lordt. He's just processing, okay!! A little meanly, but he could be worse and he probably doesn't mean to be. That is probably not an upside but look.
--Ulrika you just need better taste in company.]
Yeah, pretty sure you hit the ground an' not the canal, so there's that. [did you want a blow-by-blow, I'm sorry] Who was it, anyway? Same as Roxis?
no subject
[ which is just rude??? ]
I'm still pissed no one noticed she was rhyming, you know. How on earth did y'all miss that?
no subject
But she definitely wasn't rhyming. After all the fuss about Barry and the crazy detective we would've noticed even if that guy wasn't concussed or something. Drunk? I forget which.
[He is probably just being rude because Sholmes was Useless. Alas.
But also he did speak directly to Monika and None Rhymes. Hm.]
Wonder if there's a way to fix the curses early. You can probably die to fix 'em but that's all I know.
no subject
[ hmmmmm ]
But! Monika was also supposed to have "dull emotions" or whatever until today! What, was she bonded with someone dead or something?
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[He was busy murdering the night before, so maybe he can be forgiven for missing that one first thing in the morning. But also:]
And they were all freaking out about some other people who were missing instead an' came back later all banged up like us, so maybe that's why it got missed. [shrug?] She was linked to... who was it again... Nero? He was with you guys Thursday? Maybe that messed him up enough he didn't notice.
no subject
she is. trying really hard not to think really badly of Nero. but she can't help but make a face at his name ]
Or maybe he just didn't care since I'm the one that died.
no subject
[Squints because he’s not sure what to make of this Nero dilemma.]
no subject
[ it may have, in fact, been a bad time! ]
It messed with our heads, you know. So it's kind of hard to tell what to think about it all.
no subject
[Just rolling his eyes thinking back to the suspect list.]
Not for you, though, pretty sure that was for Roxis. But... [hm] If Alisaie killed Roxis and Monika killed you, the suspect list was all guys way bigger than those two, and the evidence wasn't from me...
Ha! Guess it must've been planted after all. And Susato made a big damn deal out of it.
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