introductions

[cancrymods]

It comes to you suddenly, at the end of an unravelling thread of thought. A sudden, piercing sense of wrongness stops you in your tracks and sends you tumbling through rapidfire questions that you realize you have no answer for. How long have you been here? How long have you been doing the same things, over and over, blindly going through the motions of a routine? Just who are you, anyway?

Questions beget more questions and answers prove illusive until you arrive at the only things you know for certain: the first is that this place is Purgatory.

The second is that you're here because you're dead.

Oddly, this doesn't feel like a surprise of any sort. You don't remember how or why it happened, but it did and that's that. It feels rather as though you've been slapped awake and everything around you has come into sharp focus. You're in Limbo, where you've been wandering since you arrived here in Purgatory alongside all the other mindless souls who are acting out what little they remember of their original lives.

Still lingering is that horrible sense of something being terribly wrong. It hasn't dissipated with your realization of the truth – if anything, it's intensified. There's no way to tell what it is, but there's something going on here.

Maybe you should investigate – or at least see if there's anyone else here who's had the same realization as you...

[ OOC: Welcome to the very first log of Can Cry! For the first few hours, Executors will be free to explore and mingle among themselves. Mod replies will come in a few hours. If you're planning to investigate, please indicate that you're doing so in the subject line as your comment. ]

Comments

[beknights]

[ They shake their head. No. Vanishingly little is familiar to them. ]

« There are only small things. »

[ The way they move their hand to form the gestures that make words is jagged, unsteady, like they're frustrated and attempting to chain that frustration down all at once.

Things that they understand to have some kind of purpose, the most basic of basic structures. Floors and walls and windows. Those are what they recognise. But everything feels too sharp, too angular, in a way they can't describe even to themselves.

The apology gets another dismissive little head shake. It can't be helped, their own unfamiliarity. ]

[herowalksalone]

[Seal's motions certainly convey frustration, and Hope catches on to it. They are only familiar with small things? He wishes to ask them so many questions, but if he can't answer anything about himself, then they likely can't either. He looks Seal over again, at their height and unusual form, before slowly eking out a reply.]

I am... curious. You look dangerous, but you haven't done anything threatening. [He's not going to admit that he's been on his guard this entire time, but he has.] You're not what I am, nor do you seem to come from wherever I come from. [He hesitates, as if he's working these things out in his head as he says them.] Do you know anything about yourself?

[beknights]

[ Strangely, they don't feel distressed about the thought of being seen as 'dangerous'. It feels...not exactly right, but it seems to fit them. Like a nail, with blade sharpened.

The end result of this internal processing is that Seal stands still for a long, long moment, and then just...shakes their head a bit. They understand they're different from the people around them, that wherever they were in life was likely not like this, and they know they're dead, and that's...about it.

Still, they do look a bit lost, in their own way. It's hard for someone so big to look so small, but they're certainly managing it. They seem to be trying to take up as little space as possible, just by existing. ]

[herowalksalone]

[He only frowns in response. He knew that was probably too much.] Yeah, I don't know anything about myself either. The only thing I do know is that I'm supposed to be the Hope of something. I don't really understand what, or why... [He feels too insignificant for such a lofty title.]