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

[duskhound]

Well, they'll probably come back slowly. Gabe's still... Whatever's going on with him, and he's still in the brain, so things aren't fixed quite yet.

[It probably is until everything's fixed.]

[justonezero]

What was up with Gabe, anyway?

[duskhound]

Well, that... "hollowing" thing that Ichigo called it? That was still happening to him, but it looks like it wasn't the only thing happening to him. I think the hollowing might have been done to keep the other thing in check? But then the hollowing started being a bigger deal than the initial problem, so that needed to be fixed...

...And then once we fixed the hollowing thing, the initial problem came back.

[justonezero]

...I hope the living are going to be okay.

[That sounds dangerous.]

[duskhound]

...Well, they're probably in a better position to help him than us, at least.

[justonezero]

Yeah. And they still have fighters, too.

[perfeccion]

"Hollowfication", Miss Troit.

[duskhound]

"Hollowfication", then, apologies. I'm still new to the terms your world uses.

[perfeccion]

No worries, my dear.

[he just has a Pet Peeve about people using words wrong]