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[strangerpeople]

ŢHAT ̸H̵O̶WL͞IN̸G COĻD BLACKN͏ESS

[The last few weeks have been quiet here in the cold. Maka and Soul are gone, hopefully to their brighter and happier future. The survivors are also gone, hopefully to better places-if not home.

You, however, are still here. You are still dead, and the blackness at the edge of the island seems, for the past few days, to have become just that much darker. Winds seem to swirl around, and everything that is light becomes nothing in its wake. You hope it will never get closer.

Your hope, however, is misplaced. This place was never meant to hold out against what has taken it. This place was always ever a means to an end.

When it happens, it is sudden and without warning. The ticking, the rhythm, suddenly starts to hammer into your head. And for those of you who are outside, a sound akin to paper ripping starts to echo through the sky.

When you look up, you see why.

The sky is being ripped apart, and inky black has finally begun to seep into the area of the island itself. Long, snake-like tendrils clock forward with the ticking of the clock, swallowing up the sky, as the blackness on the water begins to coil forward with the same, static rhythm.

You need to get out of here, and fast. There is still water to escape on, so far but the skies are about to come down and grab-swallow-the island. If you don't find something to row away in, you will have to swim. And you get the feeling swimming in that black is the worst idea.

You still have some time to prepare. Use the ticking as a guide if you absolutely must. But hurry.

The island is not going to survive whatever this is.]

Comments

[icanhearscreams]

[He jumps back and just glares at the two in the car. He's grateful, but he's also... very suspicious.]

Yeah. I mean he was nuts, but... who are you?

[7_0_7]

Guh! Just a temporarily retired judge of the dead and her errand boy in their flying car! Nothing to see here!

[He's hopping out over the side of said flying car now.]

[icanhearscreams]

'Judge of the dead'? What do you mean?

[7_0_7]

What do you mean, what do I mean? I thought that was pretty straightforward!

[But before he says anything else on this, 707 strides toward the front of the car to check out that clown roadkill. Is the clown dead? Does the clown need to be apprehended? Important priorities here.]

[icanhearscreams]

Well for one, who gave you the right to judge us?

[7_0_7]

No one yet? We had no idea there were Souls in here - it's too dark from the outside!

Beep beep beep... Must investigate...

[icanhearscreams]

... Outside of what?

[7_0_7]

Outside what? The dark matter - [707 gestures wide, indicating all of that inky darkness this place is swimming in besides the circus.] - a so-called "black thing!" It's more of a thing than a place, but I found it in the space between universes, and now we're ... here.

[He looks at this circus floating in nothing, and it's clear that he's a bit disappointed by the 'here'.]

[icanhearscreams]

That's... huh. So where exactly is here? And is there a safe place to rest?

[killerclown]

[The clown is...not dead? Probably? He's twitching like you might expect roadkill would do, but there's also a rise and fall to his chest, so that's probably good. But his eyes have rolled back to facing his skull, and his tongue is lolling out of his mouth, so you probably don't need to worry about restraining him for now.

The clown is down for the count for now.]

[7_0_7]

Welp!

[that's about what he expected. The people here are dead, and he doubts they can get more dead without being outright erased. buuut, even if they don't restrain, they should probably detain. There's a beep beep noise (that's not coming from his mouth for once) as he pops the trunk...]

Heeere we go!

[Places him inside, and unceremoniously shuts the lid.]

[killerclown]

[Congratulations! You got: One Unconscious (Possibly Comatose) Clown in the Trunk!

...yay?]

[7_0_7]

[All things considered? It's probably not the weirdest thing that's been in this trunk...]