A Reckoning...

[strangerpeople]

[You are dead.

Where you awaken is not of your cabin on the train but rather firm earth, the skies above you being nothing but an inky blackness as for as you can see. And yet throughout the darkness, you are surrounded by soft lighting and peculiar music playing all around you. When your senses become less muddled, you will notice that the music playing is upbeat and joyful almost. But let's face it, you are probably thinking this is some sort of creepy hell that you got yourself into after biting the bullet.

It all depends if you find circuses to be such a place because that is where you find yourself. The setting feels more antique than what you may assume a circus to look like, more Victorian themed than what one can be called. First the sound picks up and then you can smell something delectable in the air, catching popped corn and fried sweets and maybe something to drink? It's more than likely here.

Going down the main way, you can see some classic carnival games such as skee ball, ring toss, balloon popping if you are inclined to try and take your mind of the fact that you didn't have a choice in coming here. But despite the joyous air of the circus, there are not many people here that can help you out...or are there?


Lost souls just like yourself who met with the same horrible fate...perhaps an accord can be struck. After all, it looks like you will be here for awhile.]


((OOC: Map for reference.))

Comments

[notthebreakman]

[Proto Man didn't really expect to wake up again after... well. Looks like his father was right after all--Robot Masters really do have souls.

Too bad he probably won't be able to share that scientific discovery anytime soon. Oh well.

Once Proto takes stock of his surroundings, there's one thought that runs through his head:]

Please tell me The Devil's Carnival wasn't really an accurate depiction of the afterlife.

[icanhearscreams]

[There's a young man staring at him. The metal all over him - it's -]

[... No. No, it's fine. A robot, but...]

You were caught up in a 'game' too?

[notthebreakman]

[Oh, so he isn't alone here. That's something of a relief, that he won't have to spend the beginning of his afterlife with only his murderer for company.

But what this young man says...]

...Yes, I was. You weren't on the Vespertine, were you?

[icanhearscreams]

N... o? I have no idea what you're talking about. We were in a mansion.

[notthebreakman]

[...Oh.

Oh, hell.]

There have been other "games" before this?

[icanhearscreams]

At least one.

[He's not sure what Seven and Yotsuyu's deal was completely, so he can't say.]

I'm not totally sure how long we've been here after dying - we were on a different island before that we had to escape from.

[notthebreakman]

So what is this then, a limbo dedicated to the casualties of these games?

...That last part is probably a result of our game, then. This Victorian steampunk mess fits with what we were surrounded by. I doubt the forces running things would bother, so I'm apologizing for the trouble in their stead.

[icanhearscreams]

You got Victorian steampunk? We got like... Gothic horror, or something like that. But I guess this is a limbo.

We have some supplies if you need it, but... we haven't really noticed a need to eat since we died. I don't know if you get cold but we do have some blankets...

[notthebreakman]

We had our share of horror as well. [That "librarian," and whatever the hell was going on in the Wastes...]

Thank you for the offer, but I never really needed to eat even before I died. [Robot, you see.] And I... don't imagine I'll be feeling cold again for quite some time.

[icanhearscreams]

Okay. There's some carnival games, but there's not all that much to do. The 'days' kind of run together here.

[hexposition]

[A soft voice pipes up from behind him.]

This isn't what I had learned from all my studies, either, and yet here we are.

[She comes around so that he doesn't have to turn to face her. She looks to be in her late teens, with glasses and a gentle smile... and, perhaps most worryingly, a pair of black skeletal wings extending from her shoulder blades.

They kind of look out of place on her, really.

She offers him a hand up, if he wants it.]

[notthebreakman]

[Considering that Proto was just on a train with a walking, talking corgi and an empty suit with a television for a head, a girl with odd skeleton wings really isn't enough to phase him at this point.

He'll accept her hand up, though.]

So what exactly is "here," in that case?

[hexposition]

Your guess is as good as mine, past "the afterlife."

[notthebreakman]

I figured as much on that end, since I can't imagine somehow surviving what I went through.

Do you make a habit of greeting the newcomers here?

[hexposition]

[She looks bashful at that.]

Hehe... I wouldn't say a "habit?" I'm somewhat new here, myself. I just see someone struggling and it's in my nature to want to help, that's all. As much as I'm able, given our situation.

I'm Emma Millstein. In a better situation, it'd be a pleasure to meet you.

[notthebreakman]

It isn't a bad thing, to want to help. [Except when it gets you murdered, but it's fine! Really!]

I'm Proto Man. The feeling's mutual.

[hexposition]

True enough.

"What you went through," though? I can't say I recognize you from the mansion. Were you, perhaps, in a different game...?

[notthebreakman]

Mansion? We were on a train... or multiple trains, but one of them vanished. We were trying to figure out what had happened until the... the motive.

[Bear with him; he's trying to sort through the jumbled data.]

[awitchdidit]

[Eventually, of course, they'll run into each other again.]

Proto Man.

[She folds her arms, before thinking the better of it and dropping them to her sides.]

You'll be happy to know justice was served, I'm sure. If you'd like a free shot in revenge, you're welcome to it. I think we're past the point where it matters.

[notthebreakman]

[It was only a matter of time, really.]

Beatrice.

[His own body language is guarded, but not overtly hostile.]

I'm relieved that no one else had to die for you, but at the same time... I'm sorry you couldn't save your husband. I don't hate you enough to want to attack you, either. You were caught and punished for killing me. I'd say that settles the score.

[awitchdidit]

Sheesh. Normally I make people way angrier. Or maybe I'm just used to people who are a lot more emotional.

Honestly, this is a nice change. It practically feels like retirement after all the afterlife shouting matches I used to get into.

[notthebreakman]

[Give him time for the reality of what happened to fully sink in and you'll probably get that shouting after all.]

Death is something you're used to experiencing?

[awitchdidit]

I spent a great deal of time in a purgatory-space like this one. I'm honestly more comfortable in the afterlife or the paratext or the bad-end-zone or whatever you want to call it than the material world. Human bodies are rather limiting, even if the train's magic gave me a nice one.

[notthebreakman]

Now if only you could control the surroundings, right?

[Somehow, Proto suspects that letting Beatrice run this place would be a bad idea. Just a hunch.]

[awitchdidit]

Ahaha, it would be nice to have a bit of a tea party, but whether the Empress is running this place or not, it still isn't "my domain". At least there's other people here, and I'm not relying on demons for company.