☆ 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

Week 3 - Tuesday - During the Meeting

[raisingproject]

[If any of the dead are sitting in on the meeting, they might see a new ghost hanging around. It's hard to tell, but her clothes look fairly normal? Something that looks like a vest, maybe? There's a skirt too...probably. Kind of hard to make out exactly what's going on here, sorry.]

Oh my god, someone found that?

[Of all the things being talked about today, that's what she focuses on, despite all the static, she sounds mortified about this. Nobody was supposed to find that. She didn't even want to find it the first time.]

[selfloving]

['Sitting in on' is a very nice way of saying 'watching the meeting out of spite in the hopes that it implodes,' but she's also still trying to hold onto some tenuous peace (or truce, at least) with Zange. One's still having difficulties adjusting to their fellow staticky dead, and so it takes her a moment to even conjure up a response, speaking slowly even though she's well aware by now that the rest of the room won't respond.]

It's yours? What is it meant for?

[raisingproject]

Nothing, it's just a toy. When I was younger, I used to watch the show, you know? I saw it in the shop here, and bought it to...

[There's the slightest shifting in the shadows around her face. A frown perhaps.]

It doesn't really matter why I bought it, I just never thought anyone would find it. Or find their way in there.

[selfloving]

One of those fictional "magical girl" things, then. You don't have to lie if it was just sentimental.

You stop having privacy as soon as your heart stops beating. Or before then, if you're unlucky. It sounds like they found more than that in there.

[She waits a bit, wondering if the girl has an explanation for the radio or whatever else was wrapped up in that room.]

[raisingproject]

I guess.

[She really can't argue with that, given what her life was like when she was alive. Still, it's weird to be on this side of things for once.]

And honestly, I know all that stuff sounds really creepy, but it's all...harmless? Mostly.

[She's pretty sure, but it's one of those things where you never really know.]

It's just weird, that's all.

[She sounds entirely desensitized to the whole thing.]

[selfloving]

[Now that's a surprise. Her eyebrows raise noticeably.]

All of those things were already yours?

[For the first time, her attention really leaves the meeting conversation and moves to the ghost. She's more interested in the rooms upstairs than what's going on in front of them right now.]

[raisingproject]

Some of them. I didn't have them when it all, but as things go on, you pick up stuff, some of it from home, if you're lucky, some of it not, if you're...not.

[She was lucky, apparently.]

The shirt's mine, the book's mine, I found the radio back home. The phone...I guess that's mine too even if I never actually took it with me.

[Continuing to just sound like the spooky phone is no big deal.]

This is weird, but as much as a creep as the guy on the line was...it's almost kind of comforting to have something from home.

[selfloving]

You were lucky. [Or things went on for a quite a while for her. Either way.]

I don't know what kind of world yours was, but I'll take your word for it that it's comforting. Whatever helps. [This sounds, and probably is, a little sarcastic.]

They probably took some more of your things. Seems there's nothing we can do about those keys.

[raisingproject]

It was...

[She trails off again.]

It's hard to say. And not because I'm worried about more sarcasm.

[She snickers at that. She is (or was?) a teenager. She knows how it goes.]

It's just...it's been a long time. You forget things.

[Which she doesn't really want to dwell on.]

And if they can make use of it, that's okay. After all, it's not like I can anymore. It's all a bunch of junk though. I mean who wants a creepy phone that can't remember your birthday?

[selfloving]

[Having her bitchery pointed out doesn't seem to bother her much. One shrugs a little with her left shoulder to acknowledge the blow.]

Apparently, you want one. [Not that there's anything wrong with that.]

Forgetting might not always be a curse. We've got time; they're on a tangent. Tell me what you remember.

[raisingproject]

Maybe.

[She doesn't sound so sure.]

Not much, it was like this for us too. We were brought here by Fav and went through the same shit of killing each other.

[selfloving]

I see. [She'd like to know more about what that game was like, but is smart enough not to ask those invasive questions so quickly.]

How do you feel about our host who straddles the worlds of living and dead?

[raisingproject]

I don't know.

[She wishes she could give a better answer, but she cant.]

When I was alive, I really hated whoever was putting us through this, but it's been such a long time...you've gotten here more recently, how do you feel about her?

[selfloving]

I don't know.

[She waits a beat. It's a petty thing but not necessarily another instance of sarcasm.

One stares straight ahead, mouth drawn tight.] I certainly despise her. But what can I say about her motivations? To save your world, wouldn't those means be justified?

[raisingproject]

[She expected nothing less.]

Trust me, we're not friends and never will be, but...people can justify a lot. And she's not...she doesn't seem as twisted as some people who would do the same.

[She's definitely got a story she could share. What she remembers anyway. But it's not important.]

It's harder to hate someone the way I did back then once you realize they're just as human as you are. It's easier when you can think of them as a monster.

[selfloving]

No, she definitely doesn't. [One knows that well enough, so her smile is a little secretive and knowing then.] She told me she wasn't playing at being distressed. I didn't believe it at the time. [But she was proud and angry then, and she admits neither of those things out loud.]

I take it you haven't been staying in that room, if you're reacting to your things that way.

[raisingproject]

I wish I could tell you, but it's all jumbled. I can remember some things plain as day, and others like where I was or some other stuff, and it's just...

[There's a word she's looking for here, let's see...]

It's like static. Sort of. Like the radio in my room, but inside my head. Hopefully, that doesn't happen to you guys.

[selfloving]

Just trying to place you. [She only drew the most logical conclusion.] I'd say you might be better off forgetting, but I doubt that's the case. It only seems that way for a while.

[One stands, moving to dust herself off even though the gesture is completely unnecessary now.] Tell me if they say anything that stands out to you.

[raisingproject]

I might be. There's stuff I remember that I really don't want to remember.

[Thanks ghost brain.]

Nothing's standing out yet, but if I hear anything, or if I remember anything, I'll let you know. It's been a while since I've had someone to talk to. I know that much for sure.

[selfloving]

Even the others? [She says this more to herself than the other ghost, turning over the strangeness of it slowly in her words. Even if she was about to leave, One pauses.]

We don't have to get too friendly. But I'll listen if you need it.

[raisingproject]

Thanks and well, yeah. I talk to them but not...often. [Until now he's kept himself apart due to reasons he can't. Won't. Talk about.

They all know it but...]

Everything is different now. Anyway, thank you.

[selfloving]

It feels different. [Which is a strange thing to say and difficult to qualify. She doesn't exactly have a history of being long-dead to draw on. Her face contorts a little in consternation.]

...You don't have to thank me. I'm just doing what I'd normally do. It's the right thing.