GRAVEYARD

[foundationmods]

[On the instant of your death, you're suddenly outside of your body - probably staring down at the remains it's become.

Yet, you're not alone. For all of you (except Szayel), a young man appears from behind you, his face set into a firm, yet sad, scowl. His shaggy strawberry blonde hair is pretty eye-catching, along with the black and white Shihakusho he wears and the large sword on his back, even as he gently tries to lead you back into the lobby and away from what was once your body. You can still clearly hear and see the living, if you want to try - but they can't see or hear you.

'Welcome to the world of the dead in this Resort,' he says, quietly. 'Looks like you're stuck here with the rest of us.'

He hands you a tablet, just like the one you had before. "You'll need this if you want to keep talking to them,' he explains, looking sad.

It looks like you've passed on, and yet...You still feel like you have a role to play in all of this.]

Comments

THURSDAY MORNING DEBRIEF

[perfeccion]

[once again, Szayel calls a meeting of the dead in the lobby on Thursday morning. Those that saw him yesterday may have noticed he was a bit more disheveled than usual, but today he looks stupid tired, with bags under his eyes and not-so-perfect hair.

He still speaks with an air of authority]

Attention, dead. It seems Miss Troit and Miss Zaizen were able to obtain some crucial information yesterday by speaking with the "Blue Fuzzy" guest. Who has a name but it is difficult to say. [ahem] It seems that we are indeed located in the stomach of the resort. But what the Resort feeds on is not souls, or flesh, or memories -- it feeds upon positive emotion. Hence its desire to keep us all satisfied and happy. To that end ... urgh... I suppose you can all continue your canoodling, as long as it does not interfere with the mission. When one is sick, one must get proper nutrition, after all, so let's keep our fine host healthy while we work.

In addition, it seems the uh... [he squints at his notes] the rats? Are another hive-minded organism that is married to the Resort so. Take that. How you will. No accounting for taste, I suppose. That will be all for this morning.

Kurosaki. Please meet me back at my room.

[dereban]

[ What.

No, seriously: what. There's just no response to all of this just a look of bafflement.

Also that last part. Hm. ]

[perfeccion]

[there's a lot to unpack here, but let's just throw out the whole suitcase]

[justonezero]

[Yoshi just nods sleepily as he slowly makes his way through a meal of hamburger steak and veggies.

Bun has been a busy boy.]

[perfeccion]

[so has science man. "Break week" indeed]

[blutsauger]

Oh, I intended to keep "canoodling" whether it was actually useful or not, thank you. ... Though this makes me wonder if the mistletoe everywhere was a ploy by the resort to amplify the "positive emotions". Hm!

If I may make an addition; I was able to have a very nice conversation with the raccoon- he goes by "Spice Block". Apparently, the moose is his boss, and they're here to watch over us, though he wasn't able to elaborate why for confidentiality reasons. He found it incredibly difficult to arrive here, hence why he was so late when his boss arrived on time.

[perfeccion]

[as dry as the Saharan desert sand;] Yes. Well. Keep up the good work, Medic. Though the mistletoe does seem logical in that regard.

"Spice... Block"...? That is. Certainly a name.

[blutsauger]

Apparently the people at that Camp incident named him that. Which means he's been present for both of these events, presumably to spectate on both occasions.

[perfeccion]

Mm, I suppose that makes sense. I do remember reading reports of a strange moose from the Petoskey incident, but I didn't give it much thought at the time.

[dereban]

I'd bet the reason why it's difficult to arrive here is because this place actually moves, from what I heard. But "watching over us"... I wonder if they're Foundation related?

[blutsauger]

Maybe? The raccoon did mention having a boss higher than the moose; that being the one who would punish him if he gave away anything confidential.

It's still entirely likely that they're unrelated to the foundation altogether, though. After all, the other guests here are unaffiliated, so far as I'm aware.

[dereban]

. . . so like, what, an unaffiliated spy?

[ That's what she's guessing, shrugging her shoulders about the whole thing right now, though. ]

But for what reason would they want to watch over us, though...

[blutsauger]

It wouldn't be the weirdest thing here, now, would it? A moose and raccoon spy, potentially from another dimension, taking notes and keeping an eye on us. Perhaps taking notes on the Foundation and its methods, as well.

[dereban]

You're right that I'm not surprised after hearing "blue fuzzy" guest and [ handgestures ] literally everything else about this situation. But it makes me wonder a lot about literally all of this.

[justonezero]

[Bleary stare.]

...it could talk?

[blutsauger]

Of course! Any animal can talk, if you know how to listen. It just depends on what they have to say, and whether or not they can hear you back.

[justonezero]

[Hmm... he chews through some steak thoughtfully.]

It didn't look totally raccoon. I got a headache looking at it too long.

[blutsauger]

Yes, not surprising. He's certainly more polite than most raccoons I've handled in the past! Though he's easily swayed with the same food Soldier would feed his gaze of raccoons. If I had to guess, his more anomalous qualities- the ones that caused your headache- are what allow him to comprehend human speech and possess other anthropomorphic traits. ... Also, he's from Brooklyn, which may or may not be related.

[justonezero]

Mysterious secret agent Spice Block!

[What a cool little 'coon.]

Kinda set me back a little, though...

[bladeisme]

Thanks for letting us kiss, I guess.

[DRY AS HELL.]

[perfeccion]

Foundation sanctioned kissing.

[SO DRY.]

[bladeisme]

That almost makes me want to stop doing it, you know.

[He's not gonna, but hey.]

[perfeccion]

You won't.

[bluff; called]

[bladeisme]

You're right, I won't.

[He'll admit it, at least. Kissing people is too nice to give up now.]

[perfeccion]

[a tired, but no less shit-eating, grin]