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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.
no subject
Well, he isn't surprised that it's Seymour. Zvei can't begin to guess what about all of that is causing Seymour the most distress, but given how horrid the whole trial and his death were, maybe it's all of it.
It feels wrong to intrude now. They only knew each other for a short time before Zvei died, and it sounds like Seymour's suffering only increased afterwards. But leaving him here can't be the right answer, and more than anything, Zvei wants to help. He doesn't know how to do that, but he has to try.]
Seymour. [Quiet at first, then louder as he approaches:] Seymour.
[He moves to kneel beside Seymour, but he doesn't touch. He's not sure how much it would be appreciated, and it's better to start with this.]
I'm sorry, for everything you just went through. I wish there was something I could have done.
no subject
He doesn't know why this makes him so angry. Not at Zvei - it isn't as though it was his fault - at Lynne, maybe, who is still alive and happy, who had people who loved and defended her and wanted to save her life, not like him, whose life only had value as long as existing meant that Nala wouldn't have to die instead--
The thought draws a low, raw hiss. They're glad he's gone, he's sure of it, they won't mourn him, no one will honor his memory the way people did Zvei and Amaya and Yuki and Reiju, but isn't this what he wanted (no, he wanted an end, just as Thancred had said) because it isn't like he cares about any of them any more than they cared about him--
(What could anyone have done when the only people who truly cared weren't there? He wants to laugh. He wants to scream.)
Instead, he just curls up even tighter, his entire body shaking.]
no subject
He wonders if he should leave. Would it help? Does Seymour need time on his own to process everything? But leaving now seems like an even worse idea - he doesn't want to leave the man alone to deal with all of it. Perhaps it would have been better if he'd waited to approach in the first place, but there's nothing he can do about that now.
Zvei reaches out without thinking - it's something Yuki's unintentionally trained him into doing, and something that provides comfort when he's dealing with confusing and difficult feelings. So he reaches out, and his hand stops just shy of touching Seymour's shoulder. He pauses. Considers.
Then shifts a bit again, this time to shrug off the labcoat and withdraw the tentacles. The usual four, relaxed and at ease so as not to be a threat. Better not to hide them, he thinks, both because Seymour doesn't need him to and because maybe it'll mean more coming from someone who has some semblance of understanding. A physical sign that he hasn't forgotten, and doesn't intend to forget.]
I want to do what I can to help you. [His voice has dropped into a softer range now; it's not gentle, it's never gentle coming from Zvei.] I know it's not much, but I don't want you to be alone here.
[He does touch Seymour's shoulder then. Unlike his voice, this is gentle, cautious - like he's waiting for Seymour to pull back.]
no subject
He'd wanted so desperately not to be alone after Zvei's death, but now having the man here trying to offer kindness burns like the knife Nala had plunged into his back and he's bleeding out emotions that he can't even identify, much less process.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it was supposed to stop that was the only thing he wanted and if Ramuda got his wish then why couldn't he, it isn't fair--
He's still shaking even as he moves to sit up, wrapping his arms around himself as if seeking some small measure of comfort, his breath coming in shuddering inhalations. His mind registers the tentacles and clutches feebly at the warmth that memory brings, but it slips from his grasp and spirals away into that flood of emotions that can't be stopped.
It feels like he can't breathe again, only this time there's no knife in his back.]
cw: suicidal ideation
He's quiet for a very long moment, slowly willing himself to relax again. It isn't personal, he tells himself - because the idea of it being personal is simply too much to handle right now - it's just an automatic reaction. Seymour's going through it, and he's lashing out. Zvei's just unlucky enough to be here at the moment.]
Seymour.
[Still quiet, just his name, for now. He tries to gather his thoughts, tries to figure out how to address the issues that are undoubtedly present and going through Seymour's mind, even though he can't quite understand any of what it must have been like. Relating to another person is already difficult even when they have some experiences in common; this is unfamiliar ground that threatens to give way with every step.
But he has to try. He has to. Amaya will undoubtedly help in her own way, but he can't stand the thought of leaving Seymour like this.]
—Were you hoping that you wouldn't wind up here?
[That death by the hands would somehow be different, that maybe dying as a killer would change things, that maybe the messages from the dead were just a hoax and that it really would be the end of everything. Maybe Seymour wasn't trying to join them at all, but rather just put an end to the pain he felt.]
cw: suicidal ideation
... it makes all of this undeniable, real, and despair crashes in like a tidal wave. He'd done all of that for nothing (killed, lied, hurt others, died yet again) because he's here and not in the depths of oblivion and now he's being forced to face the truth that even here, in a world so far removed from Spira, he is just as unwanted as he is there and...
The sound he lets out is akin to a wounded animal. The shaking is back, almost violent in its intensity, and as he moves to force himself to his feet it takes a few tries before he manages it due to just how badly he's trembling.
And then? He's taking off into the exhibits, as if somehow by doing so he can outrun that tsunami of despair threatening to drown him in its depths.]
cw: suicidal ideation
[Too late. He's managed to stagger to his feet in the time it takes Zvei to rise as well, and he's off like a shot. The tentacles writhe, frustration and that weighty feeling (tiredness? is he tired? he hasn't slept this whole time, he's forgotten what it feels like) slowing him down. Maybe he could have easily caught up on a better day.
Or maybe he drags his feet because he's pretty damn sure he just made it worse. Maybe Seymour hadn't even been fully aware of what it was he was looking for, and speaking it aloud made it all the more real. Zvei groans and pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to work out how to proceed from here.]
...Leaving him alone is a terrible idea, isn't it?
[Not just because Seymour might stumble on someone (Yuki) who doesn't want him here, but because who the hell would want to be alone in a place like this? It's why Zvei and Yuki latched onto each other so hard, after all. So going after Seymour makes sense.
But he's already made things worse. Maybe Amaya could help, but she's likely busy right now. Besides, pointing her at Seymour and expecting her to magically solve a problem of his own doing is really not the best way to handle things.
So he follows. He doesn't chase Seymour down, but he follows - never trying to hide out of sight, never trying to sneak up on the man, just being nearby. Just in case. But he won't say another damn word and he won't get close enough to touch, and maybe just maybe knowing that someone else is there will help even the tiniest bit.
The tentacles flick and writhe despite his stiff expression.]