Limbo Underside Log

[cancrymods]

LIMBO DUNGEON LOG

It's easy to lose track of time in Purgatory, but believe it or not, just over a month has passed since the initial wave of awakenings took place. There's been more since then, of course, with new Executors popping up left and right but other than that, things are mostly quiet. Until one day, you all wake up to find the fountain looks kind of... busted. Not broken precisely but something has impacted the bottom of the fountain from below, hard enough to jar it slightly out of place... and those of you who joined in the first jaunt down into Limbo's Underside can probably guess what was responsible. This seems to spook Rei. She spends most of the morning afterwards mulling this over before eventually speaking up to the group; "We can't put this off any longer... tomorrow, I think we need to go down there and fight." You have a day to prepare and ready yourselves... And then you descend into Limbo's Underside.

THE UNDERSIDE

Just as before, when Rei returns the sword to its place atop the fountain, the mechanism chugs to life and groans its way to the side, revealing the staircase underneath. Despite the battering it took, things seem to be working just fine. The steep staircase vanishes down into the darkness and as you follow it, it feels for a moment as though you're wandering blindly into the unknown... and then quite suddenly, before you're more than a few steps down the staircase, Limbo's Underside pops into view. While Limbo itself is mostly functional if a bit odd, the Underside is... a lot. The geography of the place is twisted and doubles back on itself in places and seems to warp in your vision as you observe it. From your bird's eye view as you descend the stairs, you can see that the general shape of the place mirrors that of the town above, with many of the same general landmarks. For example; The movie theater is offering a "late night fright fest" on all of its screens. If you're dumb brave enough to go and watch such a thing, you'll find that the description is accurate at least – all of the screens just show the attending Executors subjected to situations that play into their worst fears and anxieties. The coffee bar serves the same drink, no matter your order – a pitch black sludge that makes you feel violently ill when consumed. The pastries are fine, though. The hotel is even more maze-like than it was previously. Your hotel key won't work here. The windows won't break. The doors won't open. Wasn't the exit around this corner? What about the next? How many floors have you climbed again? How long have you been in here, anyway? The conbini is now a perfectly normal and functional convenience store. Somehow this is even more upsetting than having it become more weird. ... Among other oddities. You thought Limbo was already weird? That was baby shit. At least that horrible feeling of dizzy disorientation from last time doesn't seem to take hold again, but the ground is very much still moving around a bit. Mind your step! It goes without saying, of course, that the place is swimming with Revenants, too. No sight of the big punchy lad who had at you the first time around, but he's sure to be around. All you can do now is explore, investigate and do your duty as Executors. Good luck.

Comments

conbini

[discutio]

You don't happen to see any coffee around, do you? The cafe's rather taken a turn for the worst.

[Dressed all in uniform black and leaning lightly on a skull-adorned cane, Phoenix couldn't have seemed calmer about the whole situation. Weird, really.]

[schardynfreude]

Sorry to hear that. Let me take a look. I believe there are...actually palatable flavors in this iteration.

It's...concerning. [Is there a catch???]

[discutio]

Is it? I'd almost say it stands to reason, if this place should be a warped version of the location above.

[schardynfreude]

[He laughs lightly.] You may be right. I'm a bit afraid of what the bathhouse must look like. Vats of acid, perhaps?

Mm, there's a small selection of hot coffees here, many of those cups for a coffeemaker, and several that are in cans. That seems a bit counterintuitive... [And yet. Seems like a normal thing?]

[discutio]

Acid, poison, any number of alarming things unsuited for a bathhouse. Would you be so kind as to pass me a can?

[because fuck it, may as well find out if it's real coffee or not]

[schardynfreude]

I have to wonder--not interested in personally finding out, of course, but I do wonder what happens to us if we get hurt enough where we would normally die were we alive.

[You know, cheery conversations in the 7-11. He hands over a can, no fancy flavors, just...normal? As normal a looking can as a can of coffee can. Makes sure to nudge it against Phoenix rather than (ha) blindly holding it out to him.]

How are you faring here?

[discutio]

I would prefer the question left unanswered myself, but I suspect it not nearly as simple as dying twice.

[He opened the can and took a drink, casual as anything. Hm. Definitely actual coffee.]

Well enough. I can hold my own with little trouble--what of yourself?

[schardynfreude]

I'd prefer to fight alongside others than have to go it on my own, but I may be able to do so, depending on the opponent.

I don't care for it, and I'm not out looking for a fight. But I like to think I'm not terrible at it.

[discutio]

It would seem I've some aptitude for combat somehow, myself. Strikes me as a bit strange how natural it feels, but I know better than to complain.

[schardynfreude]

Quite so. I did have to practice, and my weapon is...unusual. And yet I seem to be adept enough at a fight. Feels familiar enough, and yet, I've no memory of such a thing.

[discutio]

Likewise, on all counts. What would you call unusual about your own?

[schardynfreude]

Should I start with it being a scythe or the fact that it's got to be at least six meters long? That it's got a pink glow to it seems downright normal in comparison.

[discutio]

Highly unconventional, then. I daresay my own is mundane by comparison.

[schardynfreude]

I daresay most anything is mundane, but do humor me.

[discutio]

[As casual as discussing the weather, Phoenix set his coffee on the shelf next to him, shifted the cane into both hands, and drew a sword from it.]

[schardynfreude]

My. [His Majesty is impressed.] Fashionable, a surprise to your enemies, and practical for everyday use. A good choice--not that we choose them, as far as I can tell, but still.

[discutio]

It's certainly serving its purposes at the moment. More efficient in combat when it's on fire, but that's hardly necessary right now.

[Sheathing the sword again, he took another drink of his coffee.]

[schardynfreude]

--I'm sorry, you also set it alight? That...ahem. I would suggest that to be overkill, yet I'm not sure there's such a thing when it comes to our opponents.

[discutio]

All things considered, I take what advantages I can get.

[schardynfreude]

No arguments here. There's no such thing as overcompensation in the realm of magically transforming into powerful idealized versions of ourselves to fight the monstrous versions of poor corrupted souls who have been down here too long.

[this is their (after)life now]

[discutio]

'Idealized versions'...an odd choice of words, don't you think?

[schardynfreude]

Well...we get new looks. Outfits, and the magic and weapons that...hm, I presume we can use those at any point, but I have yet to witness anyone change for the worse.

Perhaps they're not specifically ideal, but we don't have enough memory to know what our ideal versions are, unless it's a subconscious thing.

[discutio]

Perhaps it is. Logically, I would think my 'idealized' self to be slightly different. But it would also stand to reason that there's some subconscious aspect of which we are not yet fully aware.

[schardynfreude]

[He won't say 'ah, like being able to Fucking See', but he gets it.] Something about our lives, I should think. Why I would have such an unusual weapon, I don't know, but the outfit can be fairly befitting someone of higher status, I suppose.

Hm. If my hair is longer as an Executor, I wonder if I can change myself to make it longer normally.

[discutio]

[The conclusion was a little obvious; not that his lack of sight strictly bothered Phoenix, but at present he might not have minded some option for the alternative. It registered as strange to be so indifferent to the concept otherwise, but perhaps it was just deeply ingrained in whoever he had been that it posed so little a problem.]

...Is it? That seems a strangely specific aesthetic change.