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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[...]
Wait, what am I doing? That's totally rude to ask like that.
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I do not remember precisely, anymore. But it has been several thousand years, most certainly.
[She knows the time on the moon was not half of her life, no matter how it felt.]
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[genuinely impressed. tell her your ancient horse wisdom.]
You do look very magical, but... that's incredible. I can't even imagine being around for that long.
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[The ones that anybody might imagine. Nearly everypony she's ever known has died already. Luna has always had far, far fewer connections among mortal ponies than Celestia. That has always hurt. In some ways, though...maybe it's a little easier.]
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[oh. she's made things awkward, hasn't she? good job, Cerejeira, you're depressing the magic horse.]
Sorry... I didn't mean to bring the mood down.
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[ It is a bit sad, but Luna has dealt with it for a very long time. It doesn't take her out at the knees anymore - though maybe that's easy for her to say, having not had any mortal ponies to lose for a thousand years. ]
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...I can see why you were picked for this, though.
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[ Half of her, she thinks, had not really believed anything would really happen. ]
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We must simply make the best of it.
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