Vice Director (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vicedirector) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sevenvirtues2016-04-19 07:55 pm
vicedirector) wrote in 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.
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.
no subject
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.