☆ 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

[telecosmetic]

[Eliza is just walking past right now.] Oh, um, hi! I just...wanted to see what was in here. [A pause] You...were part of a previous game as well?

[raisingproject]

All of us were. [He stares up at the sky briefly and back at her.] We're what's left from those games.

[telecosmetic]

...yeah. Like those other people whose names were on that list? [If necessary she'll go point it out to him directly.]

[raisingproject]

Which list? There's several out there. [Including a few he'd rather never talk about.]

[telecosmetic]

Um...I know there was one in the hotel lobby. We all signed our own names on there as well.

[raisingproject]

That one. That's one of them alright. We all signed it in our times too. [He sighs.]

But we're not all from the same games.

[telecosmetic]

Yeah, that makes sense. [A game with everyone here would sure be a clusterfuck, wouldn't it?] Um, do you remember how long ago your game was?

[raisingproject]

No. All I know is it's been at least two hundred years since then.

[telecosmetic]

...oh. [Eliza pauses, then leans forwards to try and hug him.] We'll figure something out. Things are already changing. We can already send messages...

[raisingproject]

[He pulls back before she can hug him. He is not a hug sort of person.] It's the keys. Why that is possible because of them, I don't really know. That needs investigated.

[telecosmetic]

[Oh come on, even the serial killers let her hug them. You're gonna let yourself be shown up by a serial killer?] Well, aren't those all people's old rooms? Do you know any of them? [It's too bad Dahlia is investigating the Dangan Room in the future from here.]

[raisingproject]

We know each other here. In death. We're all from difference games that happened. [It's just how he is. Hugs aren't his thing.]

They are our rooms. Mine is...soon I think.

[telecosmetic]

...wait, if your game is from 200 years ago, how is your room still here?

[raisingproject]

Because I'm not drained completely yet. [Fun facts. He rises slowly to his feet.]

Neither are they. Before you ask, we can't access them. Only the living can. As long as a door is shut, the person that room belongs to is being drained of mana.

[telecosmetic]

Oh...so the keys are really important, then? And...the ones who've been totally drained don't even have their rooms around anymore?

[raisingproject]

They don't. They're dead completely. As for the keys, yeah they're important.

They can be used to destroy this world or revive everyone even us.

[telecosmetic]

[Eliza blinks.] R-really? They're that powerful? We need to let everyone know that then!

[raisingproject]

It is really important but, I can't communicate with the living like people this round can.

[telecosmetic]

[Eliza nods determinedly.] I'll add it to my message then!

[raisingproject]

Thank you. [There is more that needs said about that. But for now this much is enough.] Anything else you want to know?

[telecosmetic]

...do you remember your friends? From home, or your game? [She's worried, herself, about how long it might take for her to forget as well.]

[raisingproject]

[...]

We all have holes in our memories. We forgot our names first. Then rest just happened bit by bit. That's what happens to the dead here.

We're drained of our mana until we cease to be and someone else takes our place.

[telecosmetic]

So...how many people has that happened to? Being completely drained...

[raisingproject]

I don't remember. None of us do. We just know it's been several hundreds of years worth of games.