foundationmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foundationmods) wrote2018-11-29 04:47 pm
foundationmods) wrote2018-11-29 04:47 pm
GRAVEYARD
[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.]
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.]
Wednesday, December 12th [I genuinely apologize for having to essentially thread with myself here]
The longer Medic works on his Medigun, the more irritable he gets. He set up his stuff on impulse at around one in the morning, and he's been at this same goddamn table at the restaurant ever since. He's taken the poor thing apart completely three separate times, exchanged parts, re-taped the barrel, replaced old circuits- a lot of this is maintenance that he's neglected for years! And what does he get? Fuck all in return except the same vague healing as before.
Medic puts his head in his hands.]
(Doc, you're squashin' me.)
Right, sorry.
[Medic straightens his arm back out. Engineer's head peers over the device again, the same concerned frown on his face as before.
The only good thing about spending all this time working on the gun is the fact that Medic hasn't been alone. Engie sprouted from his left arm hours ago to give his own tips, occasionally retreating whenever one of the living joined them at the table. The problem is that Medic has to consistently hold his arm out in awkward angles to let Engineer actually see the device- it's starting to hurt his arm like hell.]
(Doc, I think at this point we gotta call it.)
I need it, Engie. You know I do.
(I know, Doc, but it ain't workin'. This place ain't lettin' it work.)
I'm not expecting it to work perfectly, I just need it to at least heal at a stronger rate!
[Medic huffs, raking his free hand through his hair and gripping at it like he plans to tear it out. This is... kind of the most emotional he's been publicly since arriving, actually, excluding the usual mania and excitement.]
(... You're worried about 'em, aren't you?)
Hahh... More than I should be. More than I thought I would.
[Unless someone comes to join them, the next couple hours pass in relative silence between the two, aside from faint murmurs and corrections.]