as you awake in arpéchéle, the country beloved by death, a second life becomes your own. memories that feel as real as anything that you've ever experienced before. thoughts of space, distant planets, and the people that you met there come and go only in brief flashes. the primary life that you recall, that guide your choices and your beliefs, are these:
in this country, no one lives past the age of 23. the curse takes root in people's lungs, rotting away at their systems until they become bedridden and die from organ failure and gurgling on their own blood. miraculous technology has given the people a way to escape this fate. to become a reliver means to have a chance at a longer life, even if it comes with certain... drawbacks.
luke, you know it all so well. before your parents died in a car crash in chedis, they were researchers at the institute. they wed, had you, and you've been roaming the halls since you were even able to walk—a bright intellect earning you a spot as a researcher to follow your parents' footsteps in no time at all. you support the deputy director's team: pursuing research to let relivers keep all of their emotions. you hope some progress will be made, as you are already 22 years old. your coughing fits grow bloodier by the day. but if you become a reliver like this, with this technology so incomplete, you won't be hold onto the love you feel—for anyone.
dahut, you've known love all your life. how could you ever begin to let go of it now? you were abandoned far too young to ever know your parents, but that's fine since sister salome took you in—she's the only mother you've ever known, and will ever need. the others in the orphanage are sweet, even that maiden of death that so many of the other townspeople abhor. you volunteered to take the room next to hers just because everyone else was sheepish, but it's alright. surely this odd murmur in your heart and tickle in the back of your throat lately is just a cold. a coincidence. with sister salome's recommendation, you were invited to work at the institute despite your young, youthful age of 15 years old. true 15. it's fine, you've got plenty of time to show them what you can do.
sheba, your path is a bit different. while you were similarly an orphan, you were given right to the institute. it's not a fond place for you to think of. how narrowly you escaped the grasp of some of those researchers, one of them too vibrantly admiring your eyes and your hair. instead you found yourself taken in by a group known as the corps, local townspeople who've taken it upon themselves to ensure the defense of the country since the royal guard is so useless. the group of gruff souls are rough around the edges, but sweet. they're like family. all you know about defense and chivalry come from them. at a darling 15 years old, you don't worry about the curse coming for yourself—but there are so, so many ways to die without worrying about the supernatural.
the sun is setting.
dahut and luke, you are still working at the institute, because of course you are. what are your current projects? who do you think of? maybe you're in the lab together like a silly little sitcom.
sheba, you're out on your last patrol of the evening. the town is bustling, the people are laughing, and a newly dead corpse is being wheeled out of a home. no one blinks an eye. what's on your mind? ]
ACT I: THE INSTITUTE.
as you awake in arpéchéle, the country beloved by death, a second life becomes your own. memories that feel as real as anything that you've ever experienced before. thoughts of space, distant planets, and the people that you met there come and go only in brief flashes. the primary life that you recall, that guide your choices and your beliefs, are these:
in this country, no one lives past the age of 23. the curse takes root in people's lungs, rotting away at their systems until they become bedridden and die from organ failure and gurgling on their own blood. miraculous technology has given the people a way to escape this fate. to become a reliver means to have a chance at a longer life, even if it comes with certain... drawbacks.
luke, you know it all so well. before your parents died in a car crash in chedis, they were researchers at the institute. they wed, had you, and you've been roaming the halls since you were even able to walk—a bright intellect earning you a spot as a researcher to follow your parents' footsteps in no time at all. you support the deputy director's team: pursuing research to let relivers keep all of their emotions. you hope some progress will be made, as you are already 22 years old. your coughing fits grow bloodier by the day. but if you become a reliver like this, with this technology so incomplete, you won't be hold onto the love you feel—for anyone.
dahut, you've known love all your life. how could you ever begin to let go of it now? you were abandoned far too young to ever know your parents, but that's fine since sister salome took you in—she's the only mother you've ever known, and will ever need. the others in the orphanage are sweet, even that maiden of death that so many of the other townspeople abhor. you volunteered to take the room next to hers just because everyone else was sheepish, but it's alright. surely this odd murmur in your heart and tickle in the back of your throat lately is just a cold. a coincidence. with sister salome's recommendation, you were invited to work at the institute despite your young, youthful age of 15 years old. true 15. it's fine, you've got plenty of time to show them what you can do.
sheba, your path is a bit different. while you were similarly an orphan, you were given right to the institute. it's not a fond place for you to think of. how narrowly you escaped the grasp of some of those researchers, one of them too vibrantly admiring your eyes and your hair. instead you found yourself taken in by a group known as the corps, local townspeople who've taken it upon themselves to ensure the defense of the country since the royal guard is so useless. the group of gruff souls are rough around the edges, but sweet. they're like family. all you know about defense and chivalry come from them. at a darling 15 years old, you don't worry about the curse coming for yourself—but there are so, so many ways to die without worrying about the supernatural.
the sun is setting.
dahut and luke, you are still working at the institute, because of course you are. what are your current projects? who do you think of? maybe you're in the lab together like a silly little sitcom.
sheba, you're out on your last patrol of the evening. the town is bustling, the people are laughing, and a newly dead corpse is being wheeled out of a home. no one blinks an eye. what's on your mind? ]