EVENT LOG: GRAVES

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
GRAVES

characters: everyone.
location: Bonfire Square.
date/time: July 12-19.
content: mysterious shrines appear and bring visions of death.
warnings: likely violence and potentially gore.

time to pay your respects.

It happens when no one is looking, when most of the town is asleep and the rest are inside. A makeshift cemetery has come to Beacon, taking up residence in the middle of Bonfire Square. Each monument, shrine, and altar is dedicated to someone who now resides here, a memorial of their previous life.

Some may be drawn by curiosity, others by fear, and some may simply have to pass through this strange graveyard to get to the Bonfire itself. Whenever a person gets near, the altars beckon with a mysterious urge— an urge to approach, and an urge to leave something behind. They will feel compelled to make offerings at the various shrines, but doing so has a curious effect; it causes one to experience the death of the person whose grave they've honored.

Whether you resist the compulsion or give in willingly (or something in between), you'll also have to wrestle with the fact that a grave exists for you. Will you let your death be known, or try your best to keep it secret? Destroying it sure won't work, as it will return— with a duplicate somewhere else in town.

However you choose to deal with this, one thing is hard to ignore— this a tangible reminder of your death, and the fact that it's probably permanent.

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Comments

[equinoctials]

She's headstrong, and that's something he's always admired about her. That she doesn't fold, she never gives up. His gaze drops; Riku finds himself caught between a bullheaded desire to argue and something else. Something softer, that doesn't think battering itself up against her resolve will do either of them any good, the thought that he can't change her mind.

That thought. That's the one that doesn't needle so much as gut him, because he can't convincingly argue against it.

Much as he wants to.

Riku's breath hisses out between his teeth, gritted tight enough that he swears he can hear his own jaw creak from the pressure, the muscle in his cheek jumps once at the strain as he looks away. Shame chases hot on the heels of his speechlessness, with it snaps the jaws of Guilt, because there's always more he could have, should have done.

These things don't freeze him in his tracks like they once did.

"You would have done the same," he says instead, "You waited, and when we didn't return, you looked for us. It could have been any one of us," he adds, and immediately hears the liar Xehanort made of him. Of course it would have been her. It was always... meant to be her.

Hadn't he always been trying to manipulate Sora by using those closest to him?

"Don't..."

He breathes, "Don't, not for our sakes." Be angry, be sad, be anything but this, this smile that isn't reaching her eyes. When it's their blue or Sora's that lay claim to whole leagues of his memory, when the only smiles of theirs he wants to recall until the end of his time are the ones they mean.