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GRAVEYARD
THE MUSEUM
So, you’ve met your end and regardless of your beliefs, the expectation is that is where things end. Rebirth. Damnation. Salvation. A simple black screen… None of those things happen; how (un)fortunate for you. How jarring it must be to have your last moments not be your final moments. On the bright side, all the injuries you’ve sustained are no longer present. You’re as good as new!
Now, whether you’ve met your end violently, peacefully, or something between the two, you’ll find yourself sat in front of a sprawling behemoth of a wall tastefully covered from floor to ceiling (where is the ceiling?) with various objects on display. All of them carefully and neatly framed or kept safe within a box attached to the wall. Not only that, but there are cages hanging from the “ceiling” that contain even more objects for viewing. However, other than the walls, the hanging cages, and the bench—there is no padding on the bench; only a cold, hard surface that does not give—you find yourself sitting on, the rest of this room is completely empty.
At least, after giving a survey of the area, it will be obvious that it isn’t an enclosed space. There is an opening to a hallway—hopefully. Only one way to find out. Spoilers, there are many, many, many other rooms that make up this place.
Oh, but just what is all out on display?
Well, it varies and depends on who is looking. The hanging cages contain skeletons of creatures from home. Whose home? Your home. It’s the same story for everything that has been framed. They’re all images, items, objects—things—from home. Your home. Fortunately, not everything is familiar as unfamiliar items are included in equal parts. How did they all get here? What are they all doing here?
Have you considered the similarities between a museum and a graveyard? Both are places where the living go to marvel at the dead.
Now, whether you’ve met your end violently, peacefully, or something between the two, you’ll find yourself sat in front of a sprawling behemoth of a wall tastefully covered from floor to ceiling (where is the ceiling?) with various objects on display. All of them carefully and neatly framed or kept safe within a box attached to the wall. Not only that, but there are cages hanging from the “ceiling” that contain even more objects for viewing. However, other than the walls, the hanging cages, and the bench—there is no padding on the bench; only a cold, hard surface that does not give—you find yourself sitting on, the rest of this room is completely empty.
At least, after giving a survey of the area, it will be obvious that it isn’t an enclosed space. There is an opening to a hallway—hopefully. Only one way to find out. Spoilers, there are many, many, many other rooms that make up this place.
Oh, but just what is all out on display?
Well, it varies and depends on who is looking. The hanging cages contain skeletons of creatures from home. Whose home? Your home. It’s the same story for everything that has been framed. They’re all images, items, objects—things—from home. Your home. Fortunately, not everything is familiar as unfamiliar items are included in equal parts. How did they all get here? What are they all doing here?
Have you considered the similarities between a museum and a graveyard? Both are places where the living go to marvel at the dead.
EXHIBIT #04 - COMFORT
Likely the first room that you’ll come across after moving from the initial room. This room feels just as grand and just as empty as that room, but at least the walls aren’t covered in things from (your) home. 
Instead, there will be surfaces to claim, if you wish. Beds, sofas, couches, chaises lounge, bean bags, you name it—if someone could consider it comfortable then it will be present in all shapes, sizes, and variations. The only real catch is that each surface will be displayed individually and cannot be moved. Obviously.
Against one of the walls is a very small plaque that reads:
[ FOR DISPLAY ONLY – DO NOT TOUCH ]
Oops.
Instead, there will be surfaces to claim, if you wish. Beds, sofas, couches, chaises lounge, bean bags, you name it—if someone could consider it comfortable then it will be present in all shapes, sizes, and variations. The only real catch is that each surface will be displayed individually and cannot be moved. Obviously.
Against one of the walls is a very small plaque that reads:
[ FOR DISPLAY ONLY – DO NOT TOUCH ]
Oops.
EXHIBIT #09 - VIEWING
What’s a museum without some sort of media installation, hm?
For this room, there is only one thing and one thing only—a projector. For much of the time the projector being on (you can’t turn it off. In fact, where is the projector?), it won’t be displaying anything but a white light on the blank wall opposite of it.
However, while the wall is blank, every so often it’s possible to hear faint voices coming from above. Especially during the night before—you know.
For this room, there is only one thing and one thing only—a projector. For much of the time the projector being on (you can’t turn it off. In fact, where is the projector?), it won’t be displaying anything but a white light on the blank wall opposite of it.
However, while the wall is blank, every so often it’s possible to hear faint voices coming from above. Especially during the night before—you know.
EXHIBIT #03 - GARDEN
It’s here that you can finally see the ceiling even if it’s still more of a “sky” than a true ceiling. 
Those with keen eyes will be able to tell that it’s an artificial sky, and, for those who are less aware, then how it randomly flickers should help with that. Or not. Regardless, the presence of a “sky” isn’t the only surprising thing about this room—it might not even be the first thing that goes noticed. Despite all the expansive and seemingly never-ending hallways that lead to rooms that are void of anything living, this room is alive. Somehow.
A small plaque on the wall will describe this exhibit as an “interactive” medium with gentle suggestions to not be too rough with anything. This exhibition will be a picturesque garden full of all kinds of flowers and plants with a small pond with lily pads and lotus located towards the center of the room. The only physical structure within this room is a very small and simple gazebo containing two chairs and a small table. Perfect for having afternoon tea—if that’s your kind of thing. However, if you were hoping to listen to any bird song, look at what animals have taken residence in the pond, or generally any other kind of life then you’ll be disappointed.
Those with keen eyes will be able to tell that it’s an artificial sky, and, for those who are less aware, then how it randomly flickers should help with that. Or not. Regardless, the presence of a “sky” isn’t the only surprising thing about this room—it might not even be the first thing that goes noticed. Despite all the expansive and seemingly never-ending hallways that lead to rooms that are void of anything living, this room is alive. Somehow.
A small plaque on the wall will describe this exhibit as an “interactive” medium with gentle suggestions to not be too rough with anything. This exhibition will be a picturesque garden full of all kinds of flowers and plants with a small pond with lily pads and lotus located towards the center of the room. The only physical structure within this room is a very small and simple gazebo containing two chairs and a small table. Perfect for having afternoon tea—if that’s your kind of thing. However, if you were hoping to listen to any bird song, look at what animals have taken residence in the pond, or generally any other kind of life then you’ll be disappointed.
EXHIBIT # — ???
Nothing is on display in this room; all that is there is just empty walls, empty “ceilings”, empty floors…
The only thing that can be found is a small, simple white card free from any kind of writing. A completely blank card. If you try to take it out of the room, it will instantly disappear from wherever it was stored and return to the room.
The only thing that can be found is a small, simple white card free from any kind of writing. A completely blank card. If you try to take it out of the room, it will instantly disappear from wherever it was stored and return to the room.
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Mr. Beryl, Mr. Giyuu, Miss Reiju, Yuki, and...you.
[She might as well just admit it. She's never been particularly good at letting anything go, but her focus goes back to drawing her current sketch in the process of admitting this.
But he at least deserves to know.
...She may also be using this to avoid thinking too hard about what Seymour is saying--]
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Beryl, Giyuu, Reiju, Yuki, and Zvei. Every single one of the people that died. How many on the other side had ties to them and felt their loss like Amaya? How many of them have been hurting since? It isn't a matter of waiting to see if they arrive on this side - they believe they'll never see the dead again.
Seymour injured himself badly trying to break into the museum. Was it to try to reunite with them? He was upset by Amaya's death, that much was obvious.
...He truly has been blind this whole time, hasn't he?
Absently, he reaches into the pocket of his labcoat - not the usual one containing his notebook and pen, but the one on his left side.]
...I'm sorry.
[It just sort of... happens, rather than something he actively decided to say, but once it's out there, he figures he should probably embrace it.]
I did all I could, and I don't blame miss Lynne for it, but... I still left you behind. Unintentional though it was, I still hurt you. I never wanted to do that.
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...I'm sorry.
Oh, that...Amaya actually looks back at Zvei at that, a little bewildered.]
...Why? You didn't chose to die there--
[But then he says the rest and. Oh. ...Oh. Amaya actually has to pause because it feels like the wind's been knocked out of her, but...]
...It truly isn't your fault. If anything, I feared growing close to others because of that, but that is...certainly not your fault.
[She just assumed that she wasn't allowed to have friends, it's fine--]
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It doesn't matter that it isn't my fault, I still want to apologize, because I don't like the thought of you being in pain. For any reason, but certainly not because of me.
[...]
And I'm sorry that I didn't realize it earlier. I... truly am terrible at this sort of thing...
[He sounds a little wry about it, like it's just another reminder. Maybe he wouldn't have needed it if he'd survived longer and seen others in mourning. But there's really no telling; he's just dreadful at understanding feelings in others.]
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[Amaya will put down her sketchbook for a moment, and...honestly, she's still not good at this, not really. But she's gotten more touchy herself thanks to Yuki socializing her a little into it, so she elects to put a hand on his shoulder.]
...I forgive you, you know. I still insist you do not need to be sorry, but if you are that worried about harming me, then I see no reason to be angry with you. I wasn't then, and I am not now.
...I had been quite depressed, of course, but my emotions were more reserved for Ms. Lynne.
[so stop doing the self blame thing, that's her shtick--]
And if you're terrible at it, that is fine.
We can be terrible at this together.
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His hand comes up absently to take the one on his shoulder, holding Amaya's in both of his own hands.]
Then as long as we're together, it'll be fine.
[He says it so simply - but to him, it truly is that simple. It's still a little wry, though.]
I appreciate it, you know. That you care so deeply for me. It makes me happy.
[It's not as though it's an entirely unfamiliar feeling, after all - that spark of excitement when learning something new is probably happiness in some form, though it isn't the same warmth that blooms in his chest with Amaya's words. "Happy" is the best word he has for it, and it's a good one; after all, to feel such a positive thing at all is a boon he has that she doesn't. Maybe she'd be glad to know that she can make even him happy.]
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He may as well have just socked her in the gut with how those words have affected her, truly.]
...Well, of course. You are someone who deserves it, Zvei; you always have and always will. You were my first friend here, and I can only count the ones I consider dear to me on one hand...
I only wish I could return the feeling properly--
[Oh, she does not know what she's feeling--it's sort of like talking in that house again, but worse somehow??? Dear gods, this feeling is overwhelming--
...Alhaitham calls for a bead check, though, and she finds her gaze darting toward that briefly as her brows knit. Oh, she doesn't like any of this.]
...I do not like the look of this.
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...Ah.]
That's— You don't think one of them was responsible, do you?
[There's only one of the three that he's asking about. Right, time to focus in; it seems like they're getting somewhere, and it's not somewhere he's particularly excited about.]
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[There's a pause as Amaya thinks about it, considering.]
...As badly off as he was after what happened, I...he couldn't have...
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He... didn't take your death well. He was very upset and wanted your killer dead...
[And considering how last trial went, uh,,,]
Though that doesn't mean...
[He trails off, watching Seymour now with a tight expression.]
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It doesn't mean anything until it does. It doesn't. It doesn't.
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Right. No sense in getting worked up about it. We can't do anything from here, anyway.
[Whatever happens will happen, whether they want it to or not.]
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[...Yeah, her grip's tight on his hands too, don't worry. Between this and Wazy's observations, she's definitely scared for what could happen. Please don't let it be him.
(Dear gods, don't let it be him, she doesn't want Seymour dead, she doesn't want Yuki to be hurt because of Seymour, she doesn't--
She doesn't want to be the potential cause of this, either.)]
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[And Seymour... Well, he's being normal.
Zvei's pupils narrow to pinpricks against the red irises, but he says nothing. The evidence fits. Seymour's behavior is odd. He can't keep pretending otherwise now.]
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Amaya's posture tightens, her expression becoming stony and grim. She hates this. She hates all of this, because for weeks Seymour has taken so much hurt and pain and absolutely rude commentary--she doesn't know what she's feeling, truthfully. Anger? Sorrow? Pain?
But Amaya can't keep pretending either.]
...This is likely going to be quite ugly.
cw: suicidal ideation mention
[He doesn't know how the others treated Seymour after his death. Maybe things got better. But maybe they got worse, and maybe without Amaya left to ground him, he decided death was preferable to remaining with them. There's no telling here and now, and there's not a damn thing they can do for him here.
Yuki's feelings are valid - if he wants retaliation, Zvei won't stop him. But why, why did it have to be Seymour—
Though there's also this which uh. Sure does get Zvei to tense sharply, tentacles sliding out from the back of his labcoat unbidden. They even maneuver around Amaya carefully so as not to bump her, but they coil in around Zvei and Amaya both, caging them in though not blocking their vision.]
What does that mean—
cw: suicidal ideation mention
...Lynne...she didn't remember anything of her transformation, if I recall correctly.
[Is that better? Is it worse, because he had no agency in that case?]
cw: suicidal ideation mention
[He remembers enough, it seems.
Zvei's grip tightens on her hand, the tentacles constrict around them - almost touching Amaya, but not quite - and he suddenly wants to leave. He doesn't want to see how this plays out. They won't offer him pity, they will turn on him and eat him alive—
Or maybe he'll strike first, and make them put an end to him, one way or another.
But Zvei remains rooted to the spot, unwilling to turn a blind eye. It isn't fair to Yuki to look away. It isn't fair to Seymour to pretend that this isn't happening. It isn't fair to Amaya to leave her alone with this.
He's still here. That's the most he can offer her, because there's not a damn thing he can do to stop this from playing out.]
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Yuki doesn't get the option, to run away from witnessing Hyunjung's fate. Zvei doesn't get the option of turning away, and pretending this isn't Seymour. No. She'll stay with them and witness his crimes and punishment with her own two eyes.
...She doesn't have to like it, though.]
...I pray he doesn't suffer.
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...We'll find him, when he arrives.
[It won't be fine. Not for them, not for Yuki, not for Hyunjung or Maomao, and not for Seymour either. But this is the only thing they can do for him.]
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[Amaya's in full agreement, truthfully. This isn't going to be fine in the slightest, but--
Oh.
Oh no.]
W-What is that-- [Wait.] What is Miss Nala doing--?!
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...Maybe some cruel, twisted part of him wants it to. To join them all together again... or to let Seymour take his anger and frustration out on all of them because he's been beaten down again and again here.
(And in this moment, Seymour has never looked more beautiful.)
Then there's Nala, before he even has a chance to speak, and Zvei's on his feet, tugging Amaya's hand to pull her up as well, though that's not a conscious decision on his part. The tentacles writhe, displaying far more emotion than Zvei's face is doing, which is curiously blank despite the slit pupils.]
That's— [fatal, it's a fatal injury—] She—
[So it goes.]
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But Nala and her knife have robbed him of that chance, and Amaya can feel herself starting to shake a bit. Seymour's joining them with certainty, now. And Nala...will they actually do anything about her?
(Can Amaya even be mad? If this is vengeance, is she allowed to? Is she allowed to be angry that one of the men she cares for, who's only ever been hurt, has been robbed by someone who they'll all think as more deserving?)
Amaya lets out a shuddering breath. Her voice is cold and dead and hollow when she speaks again.]
...She took matters into her own hands--
[Take yourself out and leave the rest of us out of your self inflicted misery!
...Oh. Amaya's nails practically bite into Zvei unintentionally and her eyes widen.]
Self inflicted?
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Maybe Seymour deserves this, for taking a life. Maybe Nala is in the right to kill him. Maybe this is all perfectly understandable and acceptable to someone, but that someone isn't Zvei. Perhaps if she'd just stabbed him once, he could have been willing to look past it. Or maybe not. It's hard to tell where feelings are concerned, given how unaccustomed he is to feeling much.]
...She'd better hope she doesn't wind up here.
[Nala likely had no part in Maomao's death and likely won't end up here. But he can fantasize about it anyway, like he did with Ramuda. He has even less reason to act on this anger, and yet he can't help himself.]
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She had best not. I bet they'll all jump for joy and venerate her.
[They need to find Seymour. They--frankly, they need to leave but--
He's gone.]
...I don't care about the rest of this, all of a sudden.
[It's quiet, when Amaya says it, and her look goes blank.]
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