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GRAVEYARD ✨
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.
no subject
Yes! That's it exactly! Now you're getting it!
Order them to do anything, so you don't have to!
no subject
[from his overstuffed Chesterfield armchair with accompanying ottoman, he points to the handservant that had helpfully delivered a tasty hot chocolate]
Request: You, meatbag, attack and terminate that smaller meatbag for me, if you please. It would save me a good deal of effort.
[with the same polite bow and friendly smile, the handservant receives HK's request and...just fucking yeets themselves at another handservant standing by the door, beginning to pound their head into the wall
HK settles into the cushions to watch]
no subject
and stays open
as he watches, in complete shock, some gruesome ultraviolence being carried out by the helpful staff with the same lassez-faire attitude they'd just delivered him his drink.]
Wh--I--You--
Don't delegate murder! It's... you're supposed to... the... holy fuck! Pillows, damn it!
no subject
Addendum: However, if you would rather I make a pillow request, I suppose that could also work. [he motions to the now-bloodied and recently-christened killer handservant]
Request: Eliminate the other one, but do so with a pillow as the meatbag desires.
[another polite bow and smile, after which the handservant moves to a vacant couch, takes a pillow, and begins to smother another of the castle's innocent staff
HK looks to Kaz and gives him a thumbs-up
you're welcome]
no subject
catching the sleeve of a passing waitstaff, he drags them over, and furritively whispers in their simpering ear, pointing at the recently-inducted murderservant:]
Stop them!
[and off they go
throwing themselves at the killer in question
it's a three-car pileup, now
kaz sips his hot chocolate to calm his fraying nerves]
no subject
this has become a...rather disturbingly violent pillow fight?]
Observation: Ah, this is nice.
[it's at that point that some additional handservants come into the room, to see what needs they can obediently attend to]
Commentary: What wonderful timing!
Request: You meatbags as well, engage in combat with the pillow-wielding attacker. Pillow meatbag, defend yourself so that things remain interesting.
no subject
Wh--no! No no no! Ah--Hey! Hey, yes, you guys!
[as another door opens and more helpful staff emerge, kaz points at the army descending on the innocent(?) pillow murderer, gesticulating wildly.]
You've got to stop them from attacking the others!
[his original charge is now laying into the suffocator with windmill punches, while the suffocatee crawls away, coughing and gasping.]
Just... just make it so they can't reach him! No murder, okay!? Just defense! That's the best offense, anyway!
[and thus does the newly-anointed army turn, as one, and begin advancing on its opposition
whaling on every member within by means of critically defensive fists.]
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Aggh. This isn't how it's supposed to go at all...!
no subject
Request: Improvise weapons or acquire them from the kitchen so that you may more effectively and *aggressively* oppose your attackers. [vases are smashed into jagged pieces, serving platters are wielded, and one murderservant begins dual-wielding ornate pewter candlesticks]
This is a highly satisfying amount of blood requiring little usage of my energy reserves. Of course, it lacks a certain appeal that you can only get by doing it yourself. [he says this last part to kaz in a knowing voice, as if expecting him to agree vis-a-vis bespoke violence]
no subject
kaz is lying back on his chaise lounge, sipping his hot chocolate, and trying not to lose his shit]
I have nothing to do with this, I tried to prevent it, and am therefore innocent! All I wanted was chill vibes! Maybe lofi beats! Holy shit. Holy shit!
[he is pointedly not perceiving whatever is currently going down]
no subject
[and, from somewhere within his cursed metal body, pleasantly jazzy, swing-type instrumental music begins to play as a few dozen well-dressed fantasy servants beat the shit out of each other
that's right, it's some sweet, lo-fi combat jizz]
no subject
for anyone else, that would probably mean they would get up and do something about this—throw their hot choccy mug at the hateful robot—freak out, really lose their shit at this misplaced and abused use of sloth
but it's not like there's a girl he likes involved, or even a demon, so instead, what kaz actually does is
go completely catatonic.
hands wrapped around the warm vessel of melty choccy, he sinks into the cushions and stares at the ceiling, questioning his life, the universe, and what the fuck is going on in both, the sounds of warring handservants echoing in the hall around his ears.
every so often, he takes a sip.]
no subject
HK applauds]
Commentary: Well, that was very messy, and honestly rather amateur in terms of combat skills, but I feel it was made up for in enthusiasm and lack of hesitation. [he turns to kaz]
Query: Would you not agree, meatbag? It is rare to witness a large-scale brawl outside of noisy cantinas and spice gang wars.
[he notices kaz has been sipping on an empty cup for a bit and motions for one of the war-torn servants]
Request: Go and fetch some more of whatever the meatbag was drinking. And prepare a large tub of clean, boiling oil.
no subject
Uh. Sure. Yeah.
What a... fucked up treat.
[his stomach turns, the sight of all the blood and gore turning on him violently—and flipping it further when HK-47 orders him another hot chocolate.]
NO! No. I mean... I was just. I'm going to. I have to nap. I.
I'm full.
[pushing himself shakily off the chaise, kaz sways towards, what he hopes, is a bathroom.]
no subject
[in a disconcertingly short amount of time, a houseservant returns to the room and informs HK that an oil bath has been prepared, leading him...in the same direction as kaz
there, in the bathroom, is a large luxurious bathtub filled with dangerously bubbling oil of some kind
hopefully kaz wasn't hoping for a nice warm bubble bath]
no subject
he'd asked for that.
kaz stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide, adrenaline coursing through his veins anew. what the fuck was he going to do with that. what the goddamn fuck.]
Um.
Yeah. Overstimulated. That sounds about right, because I'm literally about to lose my shit.
[grabbing one of the helpful servants by the shoulders, he spins them around, and hiss-whispers urgently:]
I need you to prepare me the biggest, most luxurious bed, appropriate snacks within easy reach, and turn every possible mobile phone device within a thousand mile's radius to silent mode, stat.
[the servant nods, and nyooms off, leaving kaz once again facing oil]
So, I'll, uh, leave you to it, right? Because that's, like, your thing, and I don't really need the bathroom that badly!
no subject
[walking by kaz, he steps into the bath without breaking stride and lowers himself in, sending what is likely still-scalding oil flowing over]
no subject
[the boiling oil flows across the floor, and he skitters away. he's boiling? himself?????? kaz doesn't stop to consider any of this. he's done. he's totally finished.]
Yup! I mean, yes! I'm gonna go do my bodily functions elsewhere okay goodbye!
[and off he goes, sprinting after the handservant who has just gestured to him.]