stagemanagers: (Default)
It's Curtains Mods ([personal profile] stagemanagers) wrote in [community profile] curtainsdown2021-06-12 11:09 pm
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the mark of those who cannot be saved

[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! ))
themuseabandonsyou: (shattered)

[personal profile] themuseabandonsyou 2021-07-31 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's not something that Orpheus feels often, this bone-deep exhaustion of the spirit. Before he's always had something to cling to - the vague shape of how things could be, and the need to work his way towards it, however slowly. The knowledge that he has people who love him, who will help, or who need him to keep smiling, keep trying, keep the faith. But it's been creeping up on him slowly over the course of his time here, and while he's done his best to fend it off, he just doesn't have the energy anymore.

He's dead. Eurydice's dead. What more does any of it matter?
]

Maybe. What else is there to do? [ he sounds hollowed out, empty of anything but the dull ache of grief. ] Maybe we should see what the others are up to? But. Not now. I don't think I can, yet.