vicedirector: (Default)
Vice Director ([personal profile] vicedirector) wrote in [community profile] sevenvirtues2016-04-19 07:55 pm

(no subject)

You awaken to blackness. Frightening, although familiar--this is the same terrible thing you narrowly avoided during your first trip into Lebensbaum. The pain of your death is still real, echoes of the wounds you suffered appearing on your skin. Inspecting your surroundings will tell you that you've woken up inside of the cooled, empty bonfire pit....and the town as it was is nowhere to be seen.

The sky is a whirlwind of blank, dark void. What previously acted as roadblocks on either side of the town seems to have moved upward, blocking out most of the sun's light. The street is barren, filled with piles of broken concrete, shattered glass, and smoking craters where many of the buildings used to be. Old bloodstains dot the pavement, mixing in with overturned cars and crumbling brick walls. Lebensbaum is a dead town, in more ways than one.

Except for the hotel. It stands, as dusty and abandoned as it ever was, but no worse for the wear. Scorch marks can be seen on the ground around it in a clear border, as though it had a barrier protecting it from whatever destroyed the village. If you venture inside, everything is in its place, as though the outside wasn't completely obliterated.

The living can be seen walking around, going about their daily lives, and if you concentrate, you can even see the buildings as they once were--in working order, clean, and in one piece.

As of Monday on Week 10, however, there is a door, seemingly pasted into the middle of the street. As the days tick by, the doors will increase in number, one for each victim.
disapproved: (embrace the sound of enchantment)

[personal profile] disapproved 2016-04-25 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ what a bag of complicated feelings — for both of them, of course. if there was someone morrigan put all of her stock in surviving, well, it was rhys, and she wasn't exactly sure why. it may have been some twisted want of hers, some desire to see rhys make it out alright, foregoing anything she knew of survival or chaos or the randomness of death — this game was exemplary of that, really, and should have served as a cold reminder of that intrinsic law of nature, but somehow it left her conflicted. did that make her weak? vulnerable, especially to rhys, who she had made aware of her stock in him?

ugh. rhys can probably hear her guttural sigh of admonishment — admonishment for whom, who knows. now surely privy to her presence, she comes from the darkness, one arm across her chest and the other pensively touching her face. ]


I haven't a handkerchief to speak of, I am afraid.

[ some light sarcasm, but there's some sensitivity to this jape. she sways towards him, choosing to sit on a nearby stump, a few yards away. this is what friends did, right? they were there for each other. open ears for another's tragedy. ]
jackhole: (pic#10153307)

[personal profile] jackhole 2016-04-25 06:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ rhys should have expected morrigan. that's the first thing he thinks when he hears her voice, followed by an odd relief at the sound of it. the last time he heard her voice, light and teasing as it is, that accent that's completely unfamiliar to him, she was saying goodbye. now, this is different. it's enough to shake all thoughts of jack from his mind as he jerks upright, sitting up in the dirt and looking to her with wide eyes. his echoeye is still slow to respond, blurring out the image of her in front of him but with his good one, he can still see her -- whole and here, in front of him.

there's a long moment here where he doesn't know exactly what to say, really hadn't expected a reunion until... well, until the end of the game, ideally. he feels almost like he failed now, failed her and in a way, buddy. in makes his stomach sink and he takes a shaky breath as he pushes up from the ground so he can walk a few steps closer. ]


I feel like... there's probably a big joke here in the fact that I keep crying in front of you. Maybe something about my dignity?

[ he gives her a small self-deprecating grin then, but his eyes stay on her, just taking in the fact that she's right there in front of him. he almost wants to reach out and touch but he's pretty sure if he did, morrigan would not be very pleased with him. so, he keeps his hands to himself, propped on his waist as he stops just a small space across from her. ]
disapproved: (and i'm dizzy to distraction)

[personal profile] disapproved 2016-04-26 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ there's a pensive moment, then morrigan reaches out, touching his hand — this time, it's real, it's solid — rhys knows now that before, she really had held hands with him, even if it were only briefly. really, they were kind of a pathetic sight. rhys was in, well, the position he was in, and morrigan was awkwardly trying to give some sort of solidarity the only way she knew how. she knew that rhys liked his hand being touched, to be held, but she knew little else of what people typically found comforting, besides uncomfortably forward things like hugs. ]

There certainly is, but I will stay my tongue for now.

[ was that her being genuinely not a dick? it might have been. it wasn't nice, not exactly, but it was something. progress, maybe. ]

Given the tender situation, I suppose I should ask if there is anything you'd like to say. To discuss in your death throes. It seems you have much weighing on your mind.
Edited 2016-04-26 03:59 (UTC)
jackhole: (pic#9980889)

[personal profile] jackhole 2016-04-28 03:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ when morrigan takes his hand, he glances down in just a little surprised before smiling softly, directing his gaze back to her. he shifts his hand to take hers a little more firmly, flesh hand against flesh hand this time and she's right in that it's a comfort to it for him.

his smile widens as she passes on making fun of him, feeling warmed over it and grateful. he could take it, of course, but in his relief to see her again... the slight sincerity here is much nicer. when she asks him of how he feels, the smile dips a little and he sighs, looking towards the dirt again. ]


I keep thinking of Jack. He was my... hero, my mentor and I tried so hard to be him when I was home, even here I always thought "what would Jack do," right? But... Jack died. He died doing what he thought was right but it hurt a lot of people in the process and they took the matters into their own hands. They killed his daughter first, you know. Then they killed him, left his corpse alone to rot in the middle of some volcano somewhere. Took his mask as some kind of freakin' trophy.

[ and when it's said like that, it does sound kind of vile, doesn't it? rhys is bitter and can't help but see the comparisons in his death to jack's, in his situation to jack's. it makes for a really sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he'd like to forget.

so he steps a bit closer to morrigan, standing in front of where she sits and he stares down at their clasped hands, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. ]


But... I'm not Jack. I died doing what I thought was right, sure, but I'm not completely alone, am I? And maybe everything hasn't completely gone to shit, right? There's some good things about being dead here, I think.

[ he looks up from their hands then to morrigan, meets her eyes and gives another smile before, with a bit of a flush to his face, he lifts their clasped hands and presses a sweet, chaste kiss on the back of her hand. afterwards and maybe a little nervously, he'll mumble -- ]

It's really good to see you again, Morrigan.