☆ WELCOME TO HELL, YE POOR SOULS.

[raisingproject]

Magical Girl Raising Project

Graveyard

The last thing you remember is dying. Whether it's by murder or execution, that's was all it. But surprisingly enough, you wake up in the hotel room that you were assigned in, as if you had never died to begin with. However, once you walk right outside, you'll start noticing that while this is the Town A you remember, there are some slight differences that you notice.

The first thing is the fact that while you can see those who are still alive, they simply cannot see you. In fact, they pass through you, as if you were a ghost. And spoilers: you kind of are one, now. The second thing is that sometimes, if you look at a building for too long or too closely, you'll notice that it fizzles a bit, almost glitchy.

But that's completely fine, isn't it? There is, however, one more thing to keep in mind: there are voices of other people, mumuring. Of course, these other people, unlike you, don't have a complete shape; they're just a silhouette of themselves, looking like static.

However: it wouldn't be Town A without an announcement, would it? Of course not. Hence why upon rearriving, there will be a message, typed out:

Welcome to the afterlife, everyone. This is a greeting message to introduce you to how exactly this works. You have the ability to send one message to the living a week, so choose your words wisely. Of course, there are limitations to what you can say! You cannot reveal the mastermind's true identity, even if you know it. You cannot reveal a culprit or a victim, even if you know it.

Also, all messages will be sent to all players during the trials. If there is no trial, the message shall be sent on Saturday. You may investigate as you wish. If you have any questions to ask of me, please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.

---

Comments

[selfloving]

[Jeez, Parker, use your words.]

There's nothing left to lose, is there? These are the ends of the earth. You can say what you want.

"To be your hero, I'd kill for you." Only you had a motive like that...at least in this case. Maybe that heroism can be a clue in and of itself.

[raisingproject]

[It's like the faint brush of darkness weaving through the faint fragments of memory. She can recall just the voice. Talk of destiny and failure. Her smile fades, as she regards Dahlia in silence.

'We were never meant to win.' The words bubble up and she finally says,]

Hardly. We're all the sacrifices on which the wheel turns. The blood of many has been powering the machine that deals out death in short order for countless eons. It strips the power out of souls and confines them to oblivion.

You seem very set on pinning everything on Zange. Far be it for me to tell you what to do with repressed urges but, we have little time. And I would rather not consider the show you're putting on for her.

Do you remember what you learned in the museum? There was a great deal of history there on the original and successor murder games that took place with Fav presiding. Look specifically at the later. That is when the rules and regulations were created.

The living will have to figure this out themselves but, I will add this. Why do you think the hunter is coming for all of you? Think this over carefully.

[raisingproject]

[She pauses in mid-step, looking back. With the hood up one can almost see what she actually looks like. Short hair obviously frames her face.]

I have planted the seed. What happens now is up to you. But for a ghost, one who has been dead and lost much...why I call it that will become clear to you in time.

It was wonderful meeting you.

[telecosmetic]

...I guess. We can signal if they're getting off-track, and hopefully they'll get it.

[selfloving]

Nothing is so wonderful under these circumstances.

[TOUCH GRASS AND HELP THEM YOU FLIGHTY BROAD.]

You have given your own breed of assistance, in your own way. This conversation has been elucidating. [HAS IT? Anyway, the gratitude seems genuine enough, no matter how badly she wants to squeeze more information out like blood from a stone.] Then, I'd rather not stand by my own corpse any longer. Don't tie your entire sense of self to this place; I'm sure you'll be disappointed by the result.

[selfloving]

[How smart do you think they are, Dahlia?]

You're on a precipice there, I think. A clue or a puzzle--which would you rather leave? Our circumstances pin our options somewhere between the two.

Besides, Szayelaporro and Snow White are quite similar in their appearances. We might have another case of mistaken identity on our hands. Your proposal is efficient, but let's implicate one murderer at a time.

[selfloving]

Your definition of 'answer' is very stringent, isn't it?

[Her words are harsh, but there's no venom in her voice. She can spar verbally with Dahlia without wanting to do her any real harm. It's just a terse barb, in the end.]

I only learned about these abilities recently. Reopening lines of communication with the living and solving the mysteries of this game's final stage have been pressing for longer. There have been few here capable of doing the work until now.

[selfloving]

I began my work with the belief that the world can be changed by those who live in it. Is that still the case?

[What a silly question. Of course that should be the case. But it's hard to have confidence now.

She knows the living didn't look as closely here as they might of, but she doubts there's that much that can help them now. Still, she's mostly wandering, perusing autopsies, that sort of thing.]

I haven't seen you out of the hotel before. What are you doing?

[telecosmetic]

...if we want it to be something they'll remember...his arms and legs got cut off, right? Do you know any stories where stuff like that happens?

[zackthekiller]

[NOPE NOPE NOPE]

[WHAT WAS THAT]

Uh...

Okay. Sorry I asked.

[zackthekiller]

... You know, Recette, I'm kind of wondering the same thing. If they left those keys out there now, would someone or something try to steal 'em?

[He looks over to Rose.]

What do you think, lady?

[raisingproject]

Rose, if you please. [She considers the question for a long moment. Her aspect's knowledge of the illuminated path is beyond her. More's the pity.

Her fingers tap once, twice.] In advance. We are not trapped a convoluted series of events on which success is measured out by completing loops.

[zackthekiller]

[Zack nods, understanding her name well enough.]

[Her explanation, though... He's kind of lost.]

You mind repeating what you just said in English, Rose?

[Big words confuse him, okay?]

[raisingproject]

She is a hunter. Unfortunately that means a lot of things and none of them good. [She climbs the steps slowly as energy begins to swirl around her. Her outline changes as she reaches the top of the observatory. The shadow of a sword in her left hand a mirror of the sword Edna found. She balances the tome in her right.]

If I showed you how this blade cut the air. Could you confirm if it the hunter used one?

[raisingproject]

We have time to put our plans into action without fated events 'fucking our shit up'. [Well at least it's in smaller words.]

[zackthekiller]

[Smaller words he understands.]

Thanks, Rose.

Speaking of "fated events" what does that bitch usually do after she cuts the game down to four people? [He isn't sure if he'd be giving out a big hint on accident just because Recette suddenly heard him.]

[zackthekiller]

Yeah, I get that. [As a guy who (formerly) slain the innocent in horrible ways, he understands how hunters generally work.]

[It makes his death a bit bitter, in a sense.]

[Either way, Zack is amazed at the sudden changing shapes- Some mockery of a magical form? He's not sure if he's more confused by the power or the transformation.]

Uh... Maybe?

[zackthekiller]

[Yeaaaah... Zack's gonna just nope out of the church, okay. Bye.]

[He's going to stop by the observatory for a bit, since he kind of forgot to check that out before he died. Maybe there might be some impurity-less clues over here?]

[hawthorned]

[Dahlia's never checked out the observatory either. Not like there was a whole lot of time to do that in the time between that area opened and before she died... which she is definitely not still salty about. Seeing Zack already there before her, she's a little surprised because he doesn't seem like the sort to hang around a research facility, but then again... she can't be bothered to ask.]

Oh. [...That is not a substitute for a hello, Dahlia.]

Finding anything interesting?

[zackthekiller]

[Zack glances over at Dahlia for a moment... Yep, they're both dead. He's not expecting a proper hello, but he just waves at her.]

Haven't found anything yet... This place is kind of boring, really.

[raisingproject]

Boo.

[Surprise....? He seems to come out of nowhere, it seems.]

[zackthekiller]

[HELLO WEIRD BOY ZACK HAS NEVER SEEN IN HIS LIFE WHERE THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM.]

[Zack jumps back, startled, and attempts to make a coherent response.]

Hah?!? Who the hell are you?!

[raisingproject]

There is always a final trial. Not [She starts to say some bigger words, stops and continues.] I believe the retrial is so they solve all the mysteries. Leaving no stone unturned before the finale.

This is the format that was decided as the template for all games.

[hawthorned]

Ahh!

[Dahlia backs the hell away from the meat boy. IS THERE NO END TO THE GHOSTS HERE.]

W-when did you get here?

[raisingproject]

Let's see. [She turns, sweeping the blade out in a slash in a diagonal from left to right. She reverses the strike, sweeping the blade from right to left. Her bladework is done with obvious skill and long years of practice. She turns and swings it at the wall away from both of them.]

Does it right familiar? [Her outline has changed. A long coat has taken over where the tunic had been. Armored shoulder pads. She places the tome into a strap on her belt.]

I can't hold my magical form for long.