Panthera (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pantheraliam) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deleons2021-02-11 01:11 pm
pantheraliam) wrote in deleons2021-02-11 01:11 pm
Entry tags:
The Limbo Meme
You’re not sure how it happened, or maybe you are. Was it a hero’s death, or the desperate last moments of a coward? Maybe you died to protect someone, maybe you fell on your own sword, maybe you passed away peacefully in your bed one night, or maybe you were taken out by force. Whatever the reason, you are now neither here nor there, no pearly gates or brimstone in sight. This is what they call “limbo”, a liminal space made not to exist in, but to pass through on your way to a more finite destination. Even so, there’s no telling how long you might be stuck here, nor who you might encounter.
Directions:
-create a top level, either blank or with a prompt or preferences
-select a number, letter, or combination of the two from the lists below if you wish
-tag others and enjoy being dead
(OTA all canon characters and OCs)
How long have you been here?
1. Newly dead; You haven’t been here long. Maybe you don’t remember how you got here, or maybe you do. You might be scared, confused, disheartened, or even relieved. You’re not the only one drifting through this strange place, so maybe you should ask a familiar - or unfamiliar - face what’s going on.
2. Getting your footing; You’re not exactly a seasoned death veteran, but you’ve been here a while, and whether you like it or not, you’re almost starting to get used to this place - but when will it be time to move on? And who’s that new person who just arrived? That person in the corner has been here as long as you have, if not longer. Maybe you should talk to them.
3. A seasoned spirit; You’ve been here for years, or decades, or centuries. Perhaps you’ve learned how to drift in and out with how long you’ve been dwelling in this strange place. You could give a newbie some advice, or maybe ease the frustration of someone who has been here not quite long enough to accept what their existence has become - that they’ll become you. Then again, maybe you’re just angry you’re still stuck here at all.
What are you doing?
A. Asking questions; How did you get here? How did you die? Will you ever see your family or friends again? Is that one of them? When will you move on to the next stage? Who’s that weird guy standing in the corner over there? You’ve got questions and you want answers.
B. Facing your killer; You know how you got here, you know who’s responsible, but do you know exactly what you’d have to say to them if you saw them? Well, you better figure it out - they’re standing right in front of you.
C. Facing your victim; Well, this is awkward. At some point in the past, you made a decision, and now that decision has quite literally come back to haunt you. The person for whom’s death you are responsible is standing right in front of you, and they are probably going to want some answers
D. A familiar face; Maybe you’re new here, or maybe you’ve been here for years; either way, you’ve just seen a familiar face, whether it be a long lost loved one, or someone you never expected to follow you so soon in death. What will you say to them?
E. Wildcard; Go crazy! Any number of things can happen when your soul is trapped between dimensions. Strike up a conversation with a stranger, explore any strange new powers you might discover as a ghost, haunt one of the living, etc. The possibilities are endless!
no subject
[He says this, half hoping it would spur a reaction. But not expecting it given the reaction to seeing him now. He starts moves toward him slowly, Walking. Sure he could appear where he liked. Stand before him and make him face him whether he liked it or not. But The afterlife is a lot to take in. No, not even that. Those lost to the Ley Line held too much power to let go after a simple thing like death.]
It gets easier. The longer you're here. Time passes differently for us now.
[Noah started somewhere else. Started on another hard topic that needed to be touched on. Whether he would admit it or not they were both here now. Trapped together.]
[Noah's slender hands reached out, brushing his fingers against the inside of Whelk's hand and he let out a small gasp. The sensation of that 'touch' sent a chill through his body. He could feel as much as he liked with the living world when he had the energy, but there was a dissonance that Noah couldn't place as something other than a numbness. For the first time someone was standing on his plane. At his level.]
no subject
[Whelk breathes the word only a moment before he feels Noah’s fingers ghost against his palm. The sensation rocks him, though he’s not sure if it’s the chill that makes him jump, or an all-too-familiar gasp, one that’s been ringing in his ears at a near-constant pitch for the last seven years. He whips around, eyes wide with something between shock and fear. Only a moment later, his expression hardens into something else - something like hatred, he thinks, or at least anger, as he feels his gut start to churn with a new sensation.]
What? Why are you talking to me that way? Why are you talking about that?
[Advice? Words of comfort? Familiar tenderness that he hasn’t felt from a single person in the last seven years, and that he’d never felt from anyone else before that. Whelk’s eyes look wild as he stares at Noah.]
Don’t. Don’t placate me. What the hell is wrong with you?
[I killed you, he feels like screaming, but instead his fists just clench at his side, jaw following. He doesn’t notice that they’re shaking, nor that his eyes are beginning to burn.
[Seeing Czerny’s face is all but too much to handle. Hearing him speak words of comfort for the man that unceremoniously beat him to death with his own skateboard is simply too much to take.]
Don’t you remember anything about that night? Don’t tell me you don’t.
[Because if that’s the case, Whelk really will have no escape. The idea of having to explain to Czerny what happened is...unbearable.]
no subject
You don't think I remember that night? The last night I saw you? My last night alive?
[He raised his hand up to his own face then, grazing the edge of his battered cheekbone with his scrawny fingers. A place he made a point to avoid. Touching, seeing. It only brought to light the reality of his situation. His death. The fact that he wasn't soft and warm and full of life, but gaunt and withered and a sliver of the boy he used to be.]
I've relived that night every night for the last seven years.
[Noah took a step back then, turning and wrapping his arms around his own waist. Shrinking back in the way he had become accustomed. Shamefully, fearful. But of what now? They two of them were little of threat here. Whelk couldn't hurt him. And he couldn't avoid him either.]
Would you rather I get angry with you? Attack you?
[His eyes met Whelk's again, but what light had been there had seemingly faded. They were as hollow as he felt in that moment.]
What good would that do me now...?
no subject
[He’d never wanted to accept that that really could have been Czerny haunting him, but seeing him like this now, his body prickles like its covered in ice. Even in all of his imaginings, in all of his nightmares, in every memory of that wretched night, never before could he have known how frightening Noah Czerny really could be. Were his blood still flowing, it would flow cold.]
Wait...[His voice sounds weak again, raw and hollow just as it had before. All at once, Whelk is struck with an all-consuming fear that Czerny will fade away, never to be seen again. He shakes his head, repeating:] Wait. Don’t go...
Please, don’t...
I-I’ll listen, I will. I want to listen, I just...
I just want you to say what you have to say, Czerny! Dammit, be angry! Be...[His jaw clenches and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. Never before had he wished for a nightmare, but he know this isn’t one.]
Be whatever you want. But please don’t go. I don’t want...you to go.