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GRAVEYARD
GRAVEYARD
WELCOME TO DEAD
So you're dead! Wow. You died in a gas station, who do you think you are, Eleanor Shellstrop?
Anyway. You wake up! And... everything seems the same, actually. It's the same old truck stop as always, though the logos on the clothes seem to be clearer, now. It turns out the name of this place is... Squeak-ee's.
There's good news! Nothing seems wrong with you - however you died seems to be healed just fine. You're in tip-top shape, for now.
This version of the world seems... quieter, than the other. While you were alive, occasionally you'd catch the sound of chatter and people passing through the space. Here, it's silent, save for strange noises that come and go. There are no people here, just you and whoever else has died. It's empty. And sometimes, you feel that way too.
But there is a bastion of hope. The Wiffle House is a little warmer, a little brighter. There are shadows, here, in the form of people. Some of those figures might feel familiar, or seem that way, and sometimes? You can hear staticky, fuzzy wisps of words from these out of focus people.
Not only that, but you might notice that there's a door behind the counter of the convenience store. It was locked, on the living side, but here, the door is wide open. Inside of this room labeled SECURITY is a wall of screens! The images played on the screens are in black and white, and the sound isn't perfect - neither is the picture, as it occasionally statics out and vanishes, but it looks like the security system is up and running! Why not check out what the living are up to?
Otherwise, things just seem normal.
Oh, and - well. You know that cash register from the living side of this world? It's not a cash register anymore. Have fun with that.
The damn car wash is still locked, though. Unless...?
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he follows, though he's just sort of trudging along without any of his usual overwhelming spriteliness. ]
Won't have to worry about complaints there, at least.
[ whatever they have here, whether it be up to the same level of decadent free gas station food he's been able to indulge in for the past few days or not, is almost undoubtedly going to be better than what he had back home when the bar is essentially set at "it exists".
upon arriving at the wiffle house, he takes a seat somewhere at a table close to the kitchen and slumps over the table with a sigh. it's a few moments before he opens his eyes and turns his head to take a look around, speaking with his cheek still flat against the table. ]
Is everything the same here like this?
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it's really hard to watch this huh....... poor guy........ ]
... Mr. Shamspeare... [ iris decides right there she's going to make this man a truly giant stack of pancakes, because even if he [redacted] a guy once, he's really pathetic and also got killed so really, it all evens out!
so she's dragging over a stool and going to get to work cooking when he asks the question, and it gives her pause. ]
...It's almost the same, except for the room with the screens. And, well.
[ a pause - she gestures over to Squeak-ee The Rat Overlord ] ...That, too.
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he shifts his gaze in the direction she's pointing to, and observes The Rat... which he just stares at blankly for a few seconds. ]
What is that?
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[ what with the... clanking and moving... terrifying. ]
But apparently, it gives out some sort of fortune if you approach it. I haven't yet done so myself... I was looking for a way to take it apart in the back but I couldn't find one.
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that gets him to lift his head up from the table at least momentarily, as he squints at the rat. ]
What sort of fortune?