the mark of those who cannot be saved

[stagemanagers]

[You remember dying. Maybe the memory is clear and bright and your body still aches from the cause. Maybe it was fast enough that you didn't feel it and don't remember what you went through. But no matter how you went out, that's no excuse for truancy! Which is to say: you are still in the school.

For those executed, you will wake up in your beds. The dormitories look exactly as they did when you first arrived, without any of the changes or personal effects you and your dormmates might have made. The only real difference is that the little cot in Ambassador isn't there.

For those who were victims, you will wake where your body was discovered. All of your injuries are gone, and you feel fine. It's almost like you're still alive - but you remember what happened to you. It couldn't have just been a dream, could it?

The school looks much as you remember it, save perhaps for a few key differences. For one, there's no groundhog murals anywhere. Where things were green on the other side, like banners or paint, you'll find that here they're blood red.

The doors, for the moment, are still locked. Looks like even death couldn't free you.]

Week 1 | Week 2 | Week 3 | Week 4 | Week 5

(( ooc: Welcome to deadland, everyone! It mostly resembles the school here, and new floors will be revealed after new people die. For example, the second area will unlock after the week 3 dead arrive, and so on. Also, all dead characters will wake up at their actual canonpoint, with all lost memories restored. Have fun being dead! ))

Comments

[prophetpriestandking]

[Baby, uh, uh it don’t work -

Mumble, in the locker room, lies still.

Baby uh, uh -

He doesn’t move. He could. The feeling has come back to him now; where he was completely frozen before to the point of delirium, he is now perfectly warm.

The memories come flooding back; of his friends, of the elders, of their dancing, of his exile and imprisonment, his escape and return. And of his Ma, his Pa, and Gloria.

He’d failed them. He’d failed them all.

He’d returned with the promise of salvation, of better days and fish for all - and here he is instead. Dead.

He wonders if they’d miss him. His Ma would be heartbroken. Gloria, he wished he’d left on better terms with. He wonders if she even notices he’s gone. As for his Pa…

The newly remembered words of his father’s, mixed with Farrah’s, echo in his mind. Pa would notice. And his life would be better for it. He, after all, was the one who gave him the ultimatum: denounce who he is, or leave.

Well - now he’s not coming back.

In the freezer, he’d rendered himself hoarse calling out desperately to an indifferent silence. Someone had been there, someone should’ve been listening - someone should have done something - But he doesn’t remember anyone doing anything at all. Mumble Happy-feet, to his knowledge, had died in isolation. Unknown, unnoticed.

so slowly, so slowly -

A song echoes in his mind. Or rather, it echoes on the outside. In the great beyond of the space they occupy. As if from the heavens above. That song, Gloria...

into hearts of those who -

He hears movement, and feels himself dragged to his feet by some force of will flooding back into his body. The coins jingle in his pocket. If there's someone out there, then - then -]

Hey!

[He calls out to the figure that passes by, and freezes when he sees her face.]

What... [He breathes heavy, confused.] What are you doing here?

[wanderlusttitania]

[She freezes, and turns to see him. If her heart could stop, it probably would. As it is, at the sight of Mumble, she grabs her chest.]

No-this cannot be-

[She sways, but she doesn't fall. Not this time, for she is herself, fully, once more. Still, it is agony to see Mumble here. This isn't right.]

I should be asking why you are trapped here with me-! I don't understand...!

[prophetpriestandking]

[Mumble takes a step forward when it looks like Sissi's about to fall, but holds back when she doesn't.]

I- I died - [It feels like such an odd thing to say; it's one of those sentences that should never be spoken. The dead hold their tongue, after all.] - so why are you -

[He looks around. He looks at himself. Flexes a hand and fingers.]

I'm...I'm still like this.

[None of this seems to add up right. But that just means they're missing something in the equation.]

What happened? [He snaps to urgency] Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.

[wanderlusttitania]

...I died as well.

[A deep breath. She quietly looks down, not looking at Mumble.]

It was my fault. It was an accident, but...it was still my fault.

[She closes her eyes.]

When I found you in the freezer, I thought I could save your life. I didn't realize it was I who had locked you in there-not at first. But...trying to warm you up as I did had stressed your body, and you died anyways. The shock was...too much for me.

...

Then they had a trial...

[Feel free to interrupt, because all of this sounds terrible and she knows it. It's on her face, the shame of having killed him even inadvertently. The guilt. She will never forgive herself, even if everyone else who still lives has.]

[prophetpriestandking]

You…

[His breath hitches.]

I called out. I thought - I tried everything - I thought you weren’t listening.

[Indeed, in the moments of his death, he had held onto anger at such negligence, such indifference - just as The Wizard had showed to them all.]

But you just…couldn’t hear me.

[His voice cracks.]

And then - with Miss Hester’s motive - you’re here - the others must’ve thought - [Oh, no.] They wouldn’t kill you for that. I know they wouldn’t.

[wanderlusttitania]

I couldn't hear you! All I heard was the loud bang, and-I'm so, so sorry.

[She wipes her eyes.]

...They wouldn't have, I know that, but...we went into trial, and learned we had no choice. If they didn't vote for me, they all would be killed instead.

Either way, I...could never live with that on my conscience.

[prophetpriestandking]

[He wishes he could tell her ‘it’s okay’, but none of this is.]

I’m sorry.

[He sits in that grief for a moment.]

…We’re both here, though.

[He looks around himself. Their surroundings are largely unchanged. Save for the change in decor.]

This can’t be it.. [He recalls a memory. You’re in heaven, Dave. That place looked like here, but with clearer walls. Yet, he’d escaped all the same.] I’m still a human, for starters. I’m sure I’d see… I’d still be a penguin. This has got to be some kind of trick by The Wizard.

[Surely. Hopefully. He won’t accept it until it’s ruled out.]

[wanderlusttitania]

...You're right. Certainly, at the very least you shouldn't be here.

[She could accept this place as her own personal hell. She could accept being stuck here for her crime. But Mumble? Mumble was the victim. And if this was the Wizard-who was the Wizard to deprive an innocent soul of peace?

She sniffed, wiping her eyes once more. Deep breath.]

Then...we must find a way to get you out of here. There must be a way!

[Mainly because she can't accept that there couldn't be for him. She might give up on herself, but that's just her. That doesn't mean she shouldn't give up on others.]

[prophetpriestandking]

[Mumble stands firm.]

Us. I'm not leaving without you. Without anyone.

[He pauses.]

...I just hope no one else shows up.

[wanderlusttitania]

Monsieur...I do not deserve your kindness.

[She closes herself.]

God willing, we shall be the only two here.

[prophetpriestandking]

[He shakes his head, fond.]

That's not true.

[He feels that sentiment though.]

I-if we aren't, then that means we'll just have more hands to help get us out.

[And thus began week 2 deadland.]