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mayorityvote) wrote2024-03-10 05:51 pm
mayorityvote) wrote2024-03-10 05:51 pm
Your New Life
Another New Life
You wake up to the sound of surf, much, much closer than you've ever heard it unless you moseyed down to Puffin Pier back in the old days. What old days...? Why, the days when you had a body, of course. The memories are probably coming back by now, jumbled along with everything else you lost. What a wake-up call.
But at least the ocean is real, unlike your dubiously fragmented remembrances. This little island out in the middle of nowhere sports a crude sign reading
Here, you're free, albeit... kind of incorporeal, as you'll soon find out. The island is covered in pretty little trees that don't quite form a forest, bowed over the really beautiful sandy beach that is way prettier than the one on the mainland. One, slightly rickety treehouse -- bare of anything, because incorporeal ghosts don't need furniture, of course -- peeks out from between the leaves. This is, apparently, your home away from home now.
Finally, there's a small bay-like area on the island that leads you to a strange-looking storm drain, marked with a symbol that's not-quite-an-apple. Stepping in will wash you alllllll the way back up to Puffin Pier, right where the sewers normally let out.
Oh, and once you step onto the mainland? You're now a duck. What kind of quacking afterlife is this.
((OOC: the tldr; about death is here!))
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[ Ruffling particularly hard right now. ]
I'm talking about a battle of wills here. Of love. I can't completely understand your actions [
you murderhobo], but...[ Let's just get this out of the way first. ]
You don't want the adults defining your relationship to your best friend for you, right?
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That's one way to think of it, sure.
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I'm saying that their opinions on it don't matter! Why should it when ours never mattered to them?
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[ Though he's guesses that when they moved, he could take care of himself... ]
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this is what happens when you're a sheltered rich boy lol]...Okay, but they're all dead now, right? [ That's obviously a rhetorical question, so he continues on, voice somber. ]
This is why I said I couldn't finish my letter to Ryou earlier... I can't really get what I want to say across very well.
[ He sighs. He hates feeling like this, he hates no longer being able to trust in so many things he believed in wholeheartedly. ]
What happened, happened. But you know what? After hearing all that, I was thinking we needed to think more about ourselves and what we want to believe in...without the influence of those who hurt us. So they can't lord it over us even when they're not around.
[ Finally, he lets go of his hair. ]
That...still doesn't sound quite right, though. Because if we could do all that, we wouldn't be here like this.
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So what you mean is, we should just go "fuck it" to everything and stop caring about the assholes that hurt us.
[ ...
A shrug. ] Sure, I'm game.
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[ If only he always knew what to say... ]
Yes, let's go with that for now. It's better than crying on the floor all day. [ ... ] I'm surprised we don't have splinters everywhere.
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Like how are we even here. [ But like, he doesn't feel like thinking hard right now. ]
No, maybe we shouldn't wonder about that right now. Something fun? I don't know what's there to do, though. I feel like I couldn't touch anything when I was outside, did you?
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[ Which makes them sound like ghosts... He supposes that's what they are now. Maybe his past self would be more excited by this revelation despite everything, but this situation is too distressing to enjoy the novelty of it. ]
I guess the first order of business is to look outside again and see what we can actually touch.
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Right, no stone's getting unturned.
[ Here's hoping their investigation is more fruitful than the ones they've had in Puffin Town. ]
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