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]

What.

[Laying out his pieces.]

[cardboard_journalism]

[same!]

Um... Do you really like hamsters, or was that just... something to say?

[murimurimuri]

I don't dislike them.

[cardboard_journalism]

Okay...

[Guess that left her with the first move. How should she play this? Was he going to go off on her if she did too well? Should she play to lose...?

She eventually reasoned that if he wanted to play chess, he probably was already a better player than her, so she should probably just play normally and he'd end up winning anyway.]

[She moved the pawn in front of her King forward two spaces.]

[murimurimuri]

[He moves in a careless, flippant sort of way. And his player sucks at chess so it's handwaving time.]

[cardboard_journalism]

[blinks... and goes ahead and makes really rote straightforward "I-am-a-beginner" style moves]

Y'know... it seemed like... you're the type who likes animals, but might not like people?

[murimurimuri]

[Sigh. Well, she's better than Matt would be.]

More or less.

[cardboard_journalism]

Kahk. I guess I've... never been one for getting along with people much either...

[Was it safer to be talking like this or to keep quiet? Well, maybe he wasn't an outright murderer. Maybe he was just a pickpocket. Or heck, maybe he was just an anti-social guy who thought it was easier to act bright and happy...? Maybe this was the better choice. Maybe ambassador-guy would've strangled her already, or nail-polish guy would've poisoned her.]

[Move.]

[murimurimuri]

What you mean the box wasn't a fashion statement?

[cardboard_journalism]

N-Nah... this is... you know.

[Too nervous to be insulted.]

[murimurimuri]

...I'm not going to hurt you.

[cardboard_journalism]

...Huh? Kahk-kahk. You're not? Really?

[murimurimuri]

I'll admit I'm still a teensy bit irate, but you're no threat to me right now.

[cardboard_journalism]

Kahk-kahk. Yeah... I suppose that's me... Forgettable, unthreatening me.

[Still, it did make logical sense, and she did start to calm down a bit... as evidenced by her "kahks" sounding less strained.]

[murimurimuri]

Checkmate.

[Sigh.]

[cardboard_journalism]

Oh... uh... good game?

[murimurimuri]

. . .

[Getting up to go pick up that badger head.]

[cardboard_journalism]

[watching!]

Any idea what that smoke was...?

[murimurimuri]

No clue.

[When he happens to look into the eyes, he ends up totally frozen and staring.]

[cardboard_journalism]

...Um... Mr. Monkey-Trainer? You okay...?

[murimurimuri]

[Shoves the head at her.]

Look it in the eye. Tell me what you see.

[cardboard_journalism]

[looks!]

...It... looks like what's going on out there?

[murimurimuri]

[Snatches the head back so he can shake it and yell at it.]

Hey! Hey, you bastards! Can you hear me?

[cardboard_journalism]

... [waits... maybe only he'd be able to hear it?]

[murimurimuri]

...Nothing. Of course not.

[Setting the head down on the bed and then plopping down to watch.]