GRAVEYARD

[grigori]

THE LAND OF THE DEAD 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.

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.

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Comments

[magichammer]

Whoa, really? Even though they're going to different worlds? Weird.

[ how does that work ]

What about the people here? They're not really like any of the people on the other side, so... what's up with them?

[grigori]

I'm not sure how all of this works either. It's why it took us so long to find you. However, we do know that you certainly have more "freedom" here than you did while you were alive. [ ironically? ] They're ghosts, or, better described as parts that originally belonged to humans. These are their "remains". They have no soul or daemon. It's why all of your's went missing as well.

[magichammer]

... Death is on team Celestial?

[ Ulrika hurt herself in Confusion ]

Wait, does that mean we're remains too?!

[grigori]

E, eh? Death? N, no! I mean that the Xaphania and Metatron— [ record scratch. ] Huh?

[magichammer]

[ holy shit ]

Seems like you've got more freedom here too!

[ god can't see into the land of the dead, ig ]

Tell me everything you can about Xaphania and Metatron. Are those the two big bosses running the teams?

[grigori]

[ blinks. holy shit is right. ] It... It seems like it. [ wow?!? any way time to focus! ] And they are! The whole reason why you are dying is because they we're nothing but pawns in their game. If no one wants to kill then they'll lie to them and tell them lies in order to get them to kill, and if that doesn't work, then they'll force them. Everything that the Cele—Xaphania said about saving worlds from destruction can't be more than a lie. When Baraqiel, Suriel, and myself went to see them they refused to listen to us. All they want to do is bring Metatron to his knees.

[magichammer]

So... Bertolt was forced, probably... and then Suigetsu was lied to...?

[ considers Suigetsu. sets that idea aside, bc lbr, Suigetsu seems like he'd be happy fighting to death regardless ]

So, Xymphonia is all about screwing over the other side, and I assume Metaton also left some important information out of the contract too, because why not. Any idea on what, or should I drag Yomiel here and see what they can say now?

[drinkingproblem]

[Wow. Look, he doesn't mind dealing in death matches, but unlike some he doesn't do them for no reason???]

[grigori]

[ she'll nod fiercely. ] Correct. They were both tricked and lied to by the angels in order get closer to what they wanted in the end. Honestly, we could but I don't think it matters anymore. I'll bet with my life that Yomiel, Rameel, and Satariel are in the same position as well. Metatron only cares about winning against Xaphania no matter what.

[magichammer]

Then how do we make them both lose?

[ did. did anyone ever find out what the win condition for this whole thing was? Ulrika sure didn't ]

[grigori]

[ looks right into ulrika's eyes. not shamsiel, naru. ] Th...that's the question that we need to ask ourselves now. How can we defeat angels. Divine beings of great power. Being that all but immortal.

[trickedges]

[ ................ ]

... If they're that powerful, and apparently immortal, it begs the question:

Why strike down places like Krankaz? Should they not have laughed at the mere thought of a city seeking to arm itself against them?

Why demand worship and obedience, if lesser beings are supposedly no threat to them?

[magichammer]

[ look, there was an assumption of wiping a team out, but that sounded stupid so she stopped paying attention ]

Power, shmower, I'm definitely punching them in the face.

[ hmmmmm ]

... If everything is made of Dust, including angels... is there some way to mess with that?

[perceivedrevalry]

It's not impossible.

[He has seen cataclismic entities be defeated by one single very mortal warrior. The situation here isn't even remotely the same, but defeating incredibly powerful things is not impossible]

There must be some sort of weakness -- something we can take advantage of.

[Not that it'll be as simple as piercing them with an arrow and then hitting with a sword a few times, really, but there must be a weakness to exploit, he supposes]

[linearcrash]

Maybe we got to close the windows or something? Cut them off from where ever the hell they came from.

[drinkingproblem]

Haha, so it's these two poppin' up everywhere doing whatever they want, huh.

[He doesn't seem especially surprised about it, but he doesn't seem especially pleased, either.]

So? What's with the worlds getting wrecked. That them too? Seems to me like they already have a game going aside from us, or are they just real bored.

[grigori]

[ sorry bro. ] No, the worlds you've visited before are the results of the fight between Xaphania and Metatron. The worlds that fell out of favor with Metatron were oppressed and those who rose alongside with Xaphania also met the same fate. As things are, I'm not sure where we're going to end up next, but I don't believe it'll be any different than what we've been seeing already.

[drinkingproblem]

[Annoying. Definitely annoying. But he'll deal with that later, possibly by just breaking things, it's fine.]

If they're already holding worlds in the palms of their hands, what's their business with us? Not like we're all that much more interesting than the people they're already messing with...?

Plus, we're always there after they're all done.

[It's still confusing?? Still seems like two separate games to him.]

And what's that about oppression and rising?

[grigori]

[ healthy reaction tbh? she won't blame him. ] If they cannot fight against one another directly, then there must be other pieces that they need to make use of. The exact reasons for what caused a rift between Xaphania and Metatron is still unknown to me. I'm sure it'll become clearer in the coming days or week.

[drinkingproblem]

[Might be healthy if he stopped there. Jury's out. ☆]

You saying all the disasters weren't them directly? Or what.

And they used to be on the same team?

[trickedges]

... Krankaz rose with Xaphania. Otamo and Cittagazze fell out of favor with Metatron.

[ he's thinking out loud, really, but- ]

Is this correct, or am I entirely off the mark?

[grigori]

[ oh. soooo close. ] The reverse. Krankaz fell out of favor from Metatron and Otamo rose with Xaphania. Cittagazze was a neutral city that succumb to the spectres.

[trickedges]

[ yeah, cittagazze didn't fit the pattern... admittedly, he was only alive for three, but even so. ]

So not even not losing the favor of either side or antagonizing them is good enough in the eyes of these angels? Not surprising, given what else we've learned about their disposition, but still...

[ talk about being needy, damn. ]

[perceivedrevalry]

How unfortunate that answers are coming steadily only after death.

[Not that he's blaming Shamsiel, really. He has seen plenty how the Watchers disintegrate every time they say a little too much, he's pretty sure if this was said on the living side, she'd have been turned into dust even if they had talked in the private role space]

Is it even worth a try to send a letter or two to the living side about this?

[Will those letters melt into dust because they contain hella sensitive information, he wonders -- because golly, this is pretty important stuff!]

[grigori]

[ she'll lower her head for a moment before doubling up in confidence. ] No, I imagine that there isn't a way to get this message across, however, if I'm able to say all of this here and that you're all here to begin with... I wonder why the Dust has collected in such a way. I spoke about finding the boatman and the harpies but I'm more convinced that there's something hidden in here. There has to be another reason why I can speak this freely.