Let's Play A Murder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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letsplayamurder2025-07-06 02:51 am
letsplayamod) wrote in letsplayamurder2025-07-06 02:51 am
Arrival
The moment is a bit different for everyone. Perhaps you were just minding your own business somewhere, others may have been in more... dire circumstances. Regardless, you were approached by a figure you can't quite picture, and they offered you an accord; in exchange for aiding them in the healing of a world lost to chaos, you would be granted something almost unheard of. Godhood.
And each of you said yes, more or less.
A blurry hand, shifting and rippling, reaches out to you. You feel a glow of warmth, unlike anything you've known before. As soon as you think you can describe it, you wake up.
The room you're in is plainly furnished, but it's about the size of a small flat. Plenty of room to stretch your legs. Don't get too comfortable, however. On the bedside table each room has is a letter; handwritten, it's wrapped around a bronze key. The lettering could only be described as the platonic ideal of 'neat and precise'.
If you are reading this, than our deal has been made. You've awoken in a place that will surely feel strange, so I want you to take some time to acclimate. Meet with the others. Breathe. I shall be along shortly.
-A
Whatever that means becomes more apparent as you step out of your housing and behold the world around you. The building you were in, and every piece of architecture you happen across, is blatantly pre-modern. Yet, something about it is otherworldly. Stone and iron and glass as far as the eye can see.
But above you was where the real questions were. It wouldn't be right to say the sun was shining on you now, nor would it be right to say it's the dead of night. Instead, the sky is a hazy mixture of both, wrapped in suffocating storm clouds that are threatening rain. Everywhere you look, into the horizon, it's the same.
Welcome home. Take your time and explore. Nobody ever said godhood was easy.
And each of you said yes, more or less.
A blurry hand, shifting and rippling, reaches out to you. You feel a glow of warmth, unlike anything you've known before. As soon as you think you can describe it, you wake up.
The room you're in is plainly furnished, but it's about the size of a small flat. Plenty of room to stretch your legs. Don't get too comfortable, however. On the bedside table each room has is a letter; handwritten, it's wrapped around a bronze key. The lettering could only be described as the platonic ideal of 'neat and precise'.
-A
Whatever that means becomes more apparent as you step out of your housing and behold the world around you. The building you were in, and every piece of architecture you happen across, is blatantly pre-modern. Yet, something about it is otherworldly. Stone and iron and glass as far as the eye can see.
But above you was where the real questions were. It wouldn't be right to say the sun was shining on you now, nor would it be right to say it's the dead of night. Instead, the sky is a hazy mixture of both, wrapped in suffocating storm clouds that are threatening rain. Everywhere you look, into the horizon, it's the same.
Welcome home. Take your time and explore. Nobody ever said godhood was easy.
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[Almost Thanksgiving. She pauses.]
We don't grow them, no, but we wear heavier clothes. We'd freeze otherwise.
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[Also she's not thinking about cats in clothes. SHE IS NOT. She is.]
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...
I do find myself curious as to how different our literary canons are, actually. You attend a university, correct? What is it you study?
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Except business.
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[Ugh, talk about stress.]
I don't really want to get a career in the arts but they've always been interesting.
[She smiles, laughing slightly to herself. It's been a while but she imagines her earlier years in high school and middle school. Carrie and her seemed destined for the sciences, though Carrie seemed to like the more 'harder' sciences. Chemistry. Physics.]
Film theory, too. Knowing the history of cinema is pretty interesting. [Oh, right.] What's one of the books you'd assign to one of your first year students? Maybe I know it.
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...speaking of, you talk about cinema--that would be those moving pictures, would it not? They are fairly new for us, and they have not really made it over from Brittany... though they do sound exciting to me. It sounds like they have enough of a history for you, then?
...and ah, for a first year class... I suppose it would be something like the works of Boris Petrovich Medvedev. His work is thematically rich but fairly approachable to first year students, since The Fields of the Bogatyrs is at least a bit of an adventure story. There are some who would dismiss it for that reason, but I think it uses its historical setting quite well and it keeps the students engaged. Then you can begin throwing the dense things at them.
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Though, I can’t say I know that but it sounds… Russian? Maybe Eastern European? I don’t think I’d learn about that in high school at least but—I remember one of my professors suggested I try Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
[Something something about guilt.]
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