GRAVEYARD aka the locked basement LOL

[protoshepherd]

[ You're dead. Either you were ousted and seemed as an ally of the Bad Badger, or the actual allies of the Bad Badger actually got to you.

You remember dying. If you were already dead prior to this whole game... well, you're alive again.

Your death may have been terrible. Poison, being stabbed multiple times, blunt trauma to the head, hanged... whatever. You can still feel the pain.

But... Where are you? You see white walls around you. You're in a hospital...? You're in a room, but there's no one else but you and a man in a blue costume. He doesn't want to reveal his real head, so he hides behind a mask. A badger wearing a blue jester's hat.

And... another person? Has that other person been there all along?

Then you remember being in a mansion. Was that all a dream? You try to figure it out on your own, but you can't seem to come up with an answer. If by any chance you look into the badger's empty black eyes, you might feel like you're being taken to a completely different place. It's as if you can see the mansion again. You can see the people talking, but if you try to call out, nothing happens. They can't hear you.

You avert your gaze from the badger, and those images disappear.

There's so much happening. Pain, and this crazy badger.

You, on the other hand, aren't wearing a blue costume. You have a white dress on, with an opening at the back. That was definitely not what you were wearing... or was it?

You have so many questions. But at least you're not alone. Someone can answer those questions for you. ]

--

[ NOTE Your characters will be able to see the events happening in the game while in the graveyard as long as they're looking at the Proto Badger. They cannot participate in any of the polls, or try to converse with anybody that isn't in this room. ]

Comments

[murimurimuri]

[Eying him from where he's returned to drinking with Matt. He still has some of Kristoph's blood on his dressing gown. He doesn't say anything until Scuttlebutt mentions chess, however.]

...You don't want to play with her. She's a total amateur.

[cardboard_journalism]

Kahk-kahk-kahk. We can't all be deep blue fishing for Bobby Kasparov.

[murimurimuri]

It's nice to see you can at least joke about playing chess.

[cardboard_journalism]

...

What's got you so obsessed with it?

[murimurimuri]

I'm not. It's just a way to pass the time.

[cardboard_journalism]

No way!

We could've easily played checkers, or battleship, or even paper-scissors-rock, but you specifically went for chess.

[murimurimuri]

No way, I'd be even more bored playing games like that.

[cardboard_journalism]

Sss, sss, sss. I think I get it. You could actually lose a game like scissors-paper-rock, so you didn't want to play that.

[murimurimuri]

It's not my fault if you can only win at things intended for elementary schoolers.

[cardboard_journalism]

Kahk-kahk-kahk...

You mean a game like there's twelve teams, three are 'bad badgers', and the rest have to find them and vote them into the 'white walls' room?

[murimurimuri]

Obviously not, considering neither of us are doing so well at that one.

[cardboard_journalism]

...

[Scuttlebutt ran out of retorts.]

...

It wouldn't have been that bad a game if it wasn't for the killing. And the murderers.

[murimurimuri]

Can you really call it "killing" when we're sitting around in the basement arguing about games?

[devilsworkday]

[...You know, he really doesn't want to talk to either of you geniuses who felt the need to show up and kill him; Keyes in particular isn't his favorite person, simply because using Wright in such a way was incredibly low.

But you know what, everything lately has just been the Surreality Power Hour lately, and as has been stated multiple times over, Kristoph's last fuck has utterly flown.]

...I thought as much, admittedly.

[murimurimuri]

Sorry about the—

[Pantomimes a SMASHING GESTURE]

I literally don't know what came over me.

[devilsworkday]

I'd think that can be said for everyone who does something like that.

[Given that it's not precisely a rational way to solve one's problems and all.]

[murimurimuri]

Are we speaking from experience?

[devilsworkday]

Consider it a matter of intuition.

[murimurimuri]

At any rate, welcome to the basement, toilet's over there.

[Nodding to Myriam's box. Honestly, the smell has probably already informed you that it's the toilet.]

If you get bored enough for a match, give me a call.

[devilsworkday]

Since you'd likely be a better opponent than anyone else here, I may have to take you up on it.

[Granted, given our current company that's sort of akin to saying "You're really good at breathing," as compliments go.]

[murimurimuri]

[Laughs at that very implication.]

I'll try to sober up a little for the occasion.

[devilsworkday]

I assume it wasn't the alcohol that caused everything that happened earlier.

What...was it, outside of an obvious temporary lack of sanity?

[murimurimuri]

[That question is already a good step in the direction of sobriety.]

...I honestly don't know. The idea wasn't mine, but I couldn't get it out of my head.

[devilsworkday]

It "wasn't yours"...?

[That...]

Did something like that happen to you on the day that all this started? After you read the content of that letter I assume you received through the mirror - "Don't talk about this to anyone, or else you'll die."

Similar to that, perhaps?

[murimurimuri]

Precisely similar.

But this was stronger. This was a compulsion. You had to die by bludgeoning and Palaeno by poison. The crime scene had to be rearranged, and we had to return here. At no point did it occur to me to question this mission.