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]

[ Are they? That's a difficult question, especially when their mind is still whirling from everything they have to process.

But...no, they need to be...strong? Something like that. Someone who can take on a great burden. So after a moment, they nod, and try to straighten up.

...No, they're still feeling wobbly. Their head bows a little, their shoulders slump, but not quite as far. They're

trying to be fine. ]

[iserveeverybody]

[She cautiously put a hand on their shoulder to steady them, and also to see if physical touch would cause a violent reaction.

So, you know, she was a bit jumpy and ready to duck.]

Can you speak?

[beknights]

[ Touch causes them to tense, but not in preparation for violence. It's tension born of uncertainty - someone who doesn't quite understand the gesture.

They shake their head. They don't have a voice, so speaking - at least conventionally - is barred to them. ]

[iserveeverybody]

[That tension, that lack of voice. It triggered the bioengineered urge to serve and protect. She couldn't stop trying to help anymore than she could stop breathing.

Possibly even harder. The dead probably don't need to breathe anymore.]

Do you want to go somewhere with less people?

[beknights]

[ Is this person..helping them? That's...

It feels strange. But they have no reason to decline - in fact, it seems...logical, not to. So they nod, hesitantly. They'd like that. ]

[iserveeverybody]

Come on then, I passed through a quiet spot earlier.

[She took them by the hand to lead the way, if they'd let her. Her quiet spot was, in fact, the movie theater. There were no spectres here, nor any endless loop of advertisements you might expect to hear in a mortal movie theater. Just a slightly gloomy quiet, carpeted with eye searing 90s neon colors.]