raisingproject | ☆ WELCOME TO HELL, YE POOR SOULS.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're not the first person who's told me there's something behind the barrier we need to find. But isn't it a little morbid to stay in this place?

[Says One, who lived in a cathedral full of skulls.]

What keeps you here?

[There's no answer at first. She peers at her hands. Finally, she says.] I remember little of who I was and my life but, there was a great deal of sacrifice and death. You could say that the mortal coil was hardly fond of us. Or maybe it was too charmed by the fools that made the cd spin. Who can say?

This place reminds me enough that I haven't forgotten the important things.

Merely that which isn't relevant. [Long winded as it was her smile is barely there and sharp.] I believe the saying is, we do what we must.

[Her horseshitometer isn't strong enough to deal with this.]

It's been a while for you, but you want to hold onto what you accomplished in life. Is that it? Doing what we have to despite the cost is how we get anything done...

I know you believe that too. In that case, what must you do this time around?

First, if you don't mind. Tell me why you came to my den of death and sacrifice? I need time to...explain what my role shall be in the coming events.

[Her face at 'den of death and sacrifice' is pretty priceless, at least in the way her mouth gets visibly tighter. Man, does that make her look older.]

I'd like to accomplish something before I ask Zange to purge my spirit from this place. Since the keys are important, and you're supposedly a spiritual person, I thought I'd stop by. Nice to meet you.

[Her own smile is barely there, a faint twitch as she strolls forward.]

Well, at least someone considers that angle. I've been waiting until the time was 'nigh'.

[She smooths her robe out, sighing as she peers down at herself. If only she could remember what she looked like. No matter.]

I will warn you now, my powers as a Seer have been greatly reduced by this place. We will have to search the areas ourselves to find where the keys need to be. ...I'm still loathe to trust this plan. But I vaguely recall far worse ones than this.

That's what a place like this does to you, isn't it? I don't want to linger here long enough to find out for myself.

[Either she goes to her own world to finish her original task, however briefly, or she dies still having a grasp on who she is. The determination in One's voice makes it sound like it's important for her to remember herself.]

I'll find them all myself if I have to. I need to know what book we're looking for, too.

The book as it were, I know it exists. But it's beyond our reach for now. [She turns her head to the side, smirking.]

It's where I killed my target.

But yes, you lose your name first. Memories begin to run like wet ink. I'll spare you the details. Unless you want to know what fate would be yours should we fail.

I hope it's actually a book and not more smoke and mirrors. I trust you've forgotten its exact location or else we'd know where to start come next week.

[She pauses a little bit.]

Even if you don't know, there must be a place in this this town with records of how and where victims died. You see, I don't intend on failing.

There is indeed. The police station. If they had checked more thoroughly they would have found autopsy reports and execution notes. I believe mine tends to confuse people. While Hinata's makes others sick when they realize he was tortured to death. Things like that.

[She starts down the hallway while she tugs her hood up.] As for the book, I know precisely where it is likely to be. In that wretched place within the final map.It will be very difficult to miss. As well my key.

Which is right next door.

[She watches the ghost tug her hood up, speculating. Does it make her uncomfortable to think about her own death? Funny, that even someone who plays at being so sophisticated and bombproof might have those pains as well.]

We can point them back there if there's something worth their time. Otherwise, it is that wretched place we must put our time into. I don't fear it, wretchedness or not.

[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.

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.

☆ WELCOME TO HELL, YE POOR SOULS.

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