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??? Explora Session 1: 9AM PST/11AM CST/Noon EST Start
[ You go, onward and upward.
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THE GATES | THE COURTYARD | THE FOUNTAINS | THE GARDENS
Please remember to sign up for your session with the relevant information! It will help your runners, please be kind! ]
THE GATES | THE COURTYARD | THE FOUNTAINS | THE GARDENS
THE GATES
Beyond it, a second gate is shut. This gate is not the same as the previous—it is latticed, with enough space to put a hand through but with sharp enough edges to caution one from being too hasty in yanking it out afterward. They reach up to the vaulted arches of the ceiling, apparently impassable. ]
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Looks suspicious-like it's a trap, that one. But I guess there ain't no other way, huh.
[Limping forward to the open gate, her corruption a little sore from the climb, but it's not gonna hold her back.
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So we're looking for keys?
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[Is there any writing visible on the ground,]
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[ She's getting closer, vaguely sniffing the air as she goes. ]
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He pauses at the second gate. ]
Closed...?
[ There has to be something that will allow them to open it though. He looks around for anything that might stand out. Keys, a lever, writing... something that looks different from the rest of the area. ]
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HEYA, OPEN UP!
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[Eichi's hands are just turbo-hecked. Not surprising seeing as they are scaled due to corruptions.]
Ooooohhh... Fuck. Now what?
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[ knocks on the door. ]
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PASS THE GATE
For those of you who have been permanently altered—by Lilith, by your time before in Hell, be it by any other means—stop. You cannot move, now. Your legs will not move as you will them. Rooted to the stone floor below, you feel your physical alterations keenly in your own awareness, flaring up. With the burn and cleanse of alcohol, stinging on a wound, but the wound doesn't vanish nor heal, the burn only intensifies.
It is hard to move.
It is hard to think.
And all through your head, your thoughts turn on you with precise mental scrutiny: what sins are being reflected? Judgement has been passed upon them, and now you will bear their marks. Bearing their marks, you are not worthy to pass through the gates. Toss yourself back over to the abyss from whence you came. You should not be here. You cannot be here. The echo inside your head does not cease. ]
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YOU CAN MOVE NOW
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THE COURTYARD
Trees line the marbled square, stone slabs jutting out from the walls that the previous occupants evidently used as tables, for silver platters sit on the slabs along with trinkets, glistening in the sunlight brightly—perhaps even too brightly. On the platters are various fruits, as well as pitchers; unrelatedly, there are various trinkets too.
The food isn't just localized to the stone tables; cloth is spread on the ground near a few trees with those silver platters as though one were having a picnic before abruptly leaving. Some slabs have what looks like game pieces, markings etched into the stone. There are also, it seems, various sticks and balls and little nets set up, as though this courtyard was for people to play games in.
Everything here is bright, and you can almost see the motes of light settling, as if only just stirred. The air itself is palpable, and breathing it in feels sharp—like your throat is dry, or like you're drinking a carbonated beverage. It doesn't last, the pain is hardly mentionable, but the weight clings to your throat, heavy.
From here, there are a number of entrances, though most gates are completely sealed shut. However, there's one gate that's open for you, leading down a hallway.
You may also turn back to the gate, if you really wanted to. . . ]
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[ Going to examine the open gate, cautiously ]
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. . . But he approaches one of the platters. And glances around at nearby trinkets and fruits. What sort of trinkets can be found? And are the fruits whole and not rotten? Still ripe? ]
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[Then she picks up one of the pitchers and looks to see what's inside it.]
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Did anyone bring sunglasses?
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1/2
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she'll gently set (tenn, whoever she was helping in at the time) down to rest, as she looks over the courtyard, quiet and sad-apprehensive-uneasy.
the food-- no, that can't be for her, so she won't touch it, but she'll investigate some of those closed gates instead. ]
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Is this supposed to be.... Etename-whatever-the-fuck...? Ugh. Fuck. What the fuck is it doin' here?
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fruit correction!
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You've got to applaud their commitment to aesthetic, I suppose.
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[Going to lift as much fruit and shiny shit as she can carry.]
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[The place looks familiar, as she faintly remembers (now, too late, what an idiot, she should not be here) and no different than Amaranth had explained.
But--if she's here, she should at least check to see if there really aren't any changes from before...]
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THE FOUNTAINS
And perhaps bathing is what this place is for; etched into the marble in front of you is some sort of scripture, difficult to read, but if you concentrate you can see the shapes move to become readable:
Given where you are, is it wise to take a bath right now. . . ? ]
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[Well. She can try dipping a finger in to see what happens.]
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IT'S THE COPS???
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THE GARDENS
In the center of this roughly circular area is a broken-down stone fountain. The water sits stagnant, and nothing remains of the fountain’s design except a basin and the shattered base of a once-golden sculpture.
The light here is twilit—or just kind of dim, if you want to be less romantic about it. Looking overhead, it’s easy to see why: actually, the sky isn’t visible from this place at all. Instead, there’s a dense canopy of branches forming an almost perfect dome.
Perhaps this place is familiar to you.
Or… perhaps you aren’t truly here at all? Each step you take, the ground beneath your feet seems to shift and then dissipate, like fine mist. ]
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If he is able though, he will approach the basin of water.
. . . Water in heaven. Could it be holy water? He reaches down to place a hand inside the liquid. ]
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here is your LONGASS EXPOSITION
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IT'S THE COPS???
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