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GRAVEYARD β¨
POPULATION: GHOST TOWN
You die - and then you wake up.
For a second, it feels as though you can't breathe, and then your head breaks the surface. You crawl out of a pool of blood and into a large, crystalline room. Moving images play across the crystal walls, and if you watch close enough, you'll realize that you're seeing the land of the living; a familiar space station with familiar faces. You can watch these images for as long as you'd like - there are several very large benches (as in, you have to climb them to sit on them) around the room for you to rest on while you do.
Regardless of how you died, it seems as though you're not quite gone completely. You're in one piece, at least. That's good news. However, your surroundings are not exactly what you remember.
When you exit the first room, a bleak, empty city sprawls out ahead of you.
The city itself is large. The framework of it seems to tower higher and higher than you can see, up into the black opal sky that shivers and curls every so often. A river entirely made of blood runs through the city, winding around buildings and ending at the crystal room. The most noticeable thing about the buildings themselves is the fact that thorny vines made of pure white steel dig into the walls and floor, cracking the foundations.
The residential building is worn down and old. It's two floors, and has a few small studio apartments built for one or two people to live in. The beds are extremely uncomfortable. It has a communal area downstairs, but the TV is broken, and the couches are torn apart. Sometimes, this building feels obscenely hot in temperature, and smells like rotten eggs.
The grocery store is your typical convenience store. There's a large selection of food in this area, but it all tastes the same - like chalk. On top of this, every so often there will be bloodstains on the walls, the floor, and the displays. They change in size and location, each time you enter the store.
The clothing store is thrifty in nature. All the clothes here are uncomfortable and scratchy, and don't fit quite right. While you're here, time feels... weird. Distorted, almost dreamy. As you're picking out clothes and trying them on (no money needed, just take what you want), you swear you can hear a gunshot in the distance.
Enjoy your time in this city, and remember...your story isn't quite over yet.
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he rips the bag open from the top, and extracts two slices.]
Wait! Shouldn't it be a traditional hour!?
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There's no tradition here!
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[he's just
dumping jam on to it, no knife, we die like kings]
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Do you think I've ever done anything traditional in my life!?
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[he has stuck an entire breadslice into a jar of peanut butter]
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True cuisine is all about innovation!
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[he slams the pb on to the jam slice, and holds it aloft]
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You're going to eat my sandwich and enjoy it! [This is a threat.]
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Did you put fish in it?!
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There is peanut butter in her hair!!]
Hey! That's cheating!
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[She's... just. Throwing the tin of sardines at his face.]
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[it hits him in the forehead
he stumbles, coated in their juices]
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[he just wholesale throws
the entire bag of ripped bread at her]
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Look! The sardine runoff is leaking into my pants!
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And there isn't any decent soap here to wash it out. Don't pretend you can understand my suffering.
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Ugh. I'm calling it my win, because, one, I actually made an edible sandwich, and two, you touched it. I'm going to go towel myself off with random pieces of clothing until the stench is vaguely gone!