The Thieves' Museum (Open) - :) Easy to join for new members

"Wow, the afterlife is worse than I thought!"

Poultergeist decided to check inside of one of the other rooms, disappointed to see another bedroom.

(Hey mint! It would be awesome if you could send one of your character's my way, I could always repost my last response to the thread.)

(Sorry about not seeing this earlier Mint! But yee I have Dipper open, maybe you could send myrnin over?)

By far the most annoying things about this place was it's tendency to occasionally send its residence back to square one.

Myrnin looked up at the ceiling of his room - or what he could only assume was his room.

He'd been here not to long ago and he wasn't motivated to roll out of bed now. All that would mean was that there was too much things to go around in his head. Too many things to work out that he couldn't leave unsaid.

Are you planning to move any time soon? ask a portion of his brain. Myrnin choice to ignore it, even though it (blond hair, dirty brown hoody) was leaning in the corner of the room with an annoyed expression. Myrnin chose not to look.

He knew that the person there was a figment of his mind, but he was choosing to ignore that fact in favor of being annoyed with the demands the specter was making.

"I'll leave when I'm ready," he muttered.

He had to close his eyes when he heard voices nearby. Ah yes. The general mass of personalities were somewhere beyond the door.

It's boooooooooring in here.

"Which is good. I like boring. Trying to sleep wouldn't be just fine."

But Myrnin slowly sat up and twisted off the bed. No point in checking for more letters. It would be pointless. Instead he slowly moved toward the door, opened it, and squinted outside. Like a hermit who had never seen the outside world.

Poltergeist heard a shout. "Who's there?!", cried poltergeist, trying to draw a pistol before realizing that he didn't have one. He thought back to the shout, and thought it sounded a cry of hello. He smirked. He could probably trick them into doing his work for him. "Hello? Anybody there?"

"Just me," said the voice, getting closer as the demon managed to track down a better location of where the current voice that was talking to them was.
Looking around - done in the form of spinning slowly on their heals, Sytry managed to get a bit closer to where the voice had originated.
"You going to do anything?" they asked. "Like show up? No rush, of course."

(XD Want me to throw someone at him? Seems a shame to wake him.)

Dipper | Outside | mintedstar/fur, open for others

Dipper had been still been waving when the man spoke up. He wasn't expecting a warm welcome or someone that could understand him but not an order. He stopped waving when Myrnin made the move to come out of his hiding place leaving the boy expectant of...something.
He was no mind reader nor did was he able to read the room at the drop of a hat. Whatever the stranger had been talking about he was bound to figure out what exactly had been said. Until then he was left to wonder who this person was, or if he had a theory, find out why Myrnin had been selected for the museum. "I'm Dipper Pines." Having run from monsters left and right during his stay in Gravity Falls it still caused him to be a bit breathless at times. "Now who are you?" Dipper questioned the vampire, forced to look up at the taller of the two.

(Hello! I decided to stop stalking this and actually join :j )

*Screenname: ®Hawkpath®
*Name: Castiel
*Where they are from: Supernatural
Gender: None
Age: Old
Headcannons (if any): At half power, uses they/them pronouns
Powers (if any): Healing, mild smiting
*Tell me. Are we alive? (The code word. Read the rules.): we are all dead here
*Path Chosen (If you don't understand look through the choices in the intro): Undecided
Other: N/A
*Starting Role-Play post(everyone start out in their room):

Castiel opened their eyes.
They were lying in a bed, in a plain room with a closet and a small bedside table. They blinked, then blinked again, but the scene didn’t vanish, and slowly they sat up.
Silence. No one was there. They got to their feet slowly, then looked down at the table as a flash of white caught their eye.
They picked up the note and unfolded it, blue eyes scanning the paper. They couldn’t tell what language it was written in, only that they could understand it.
Welcome to Sable's Museum. You are dead.
They paused. Then they looked around, as though expecting something to have changed. But nothing had.
They looked back at the note.
The rooms in this museum contains many interesting artifacts from many worlds. And now you are one of them. If you leave your room, you accept your fate as one of my antiques.
Cas frowned. This seemed kind of...well. Fake. They didn’t believe they were dead, for one thing. This wasn’t anywhere they’d seen before, and they were well acquainted with the places of the dead. So this had to be some sort of odd trick.
They read the rest of the note quickly, then tucked it into the pocket of their tan coat. Then they began to search the room.
Which turned out to be a waste of time.
There was nothing there. No windows, no trap door. Not so much as a piece of hair. They sighed, irritated, then turned towards the door.
Slowly, they eased it open and looked out. The hall was empty.
“If you’re listening to me right now, Sable, I know you’re lying.” They muttered. “I’m an angel. Telling me I’m dead is like...telling a fish that the water is gone, while they’re swimming in it. The least you could do is come up with something believable.”
And they stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind them.

Thanks! And sure, go for it!))

"That hasn't exactly stopped anything," said a voice. It was dry, and it also contained a grain of unease.
Lupin Riversaulta had just exited his own room and he didn't like who he found or what he'd heard. He just hoped Castiel wouldn't pick up on it. 
Lupin was a thin looking person with broad shoulders and long brown hair. There wasn't much remarkable about him. He fiddled with two rings on one hand and tried not to make eye contact.
How likely was it that angels had x-ray vision.
He hadn't. But could they sense fallen angels? Was that a thing? He didn't know. He hadn't met any until he'd become one.
So thinking about it honestly hadn't been the most helpful.
"I mean," he rambled. "It's all well and good to say that it doesn't mean anything. But the change in location has to be a bummer. Yes?"
There was maybe a bit too much effort put into the hopeless smile.

Sytry | Outside Poltergeist's room | Poltergeist Brokenstar (open)

There was a tap of heels as Sytry moved closer. It wasn't hard to tell the flashy style they had. It seemed all pastel blues and purples and a lot of frills and decorations.
"Sytry!" said the demon with a bit of pride. "The 12th pillar of Solomon and a viscount and Prince of Hell." They bowed, headdress tilting with them. 
Then they unfolded and inclined their head. 
"Ryan King. And why be known as the Poltergeist?"

((I’m going to post my replies separately today. I’m working around the house and not sure if I can commit to one long post atm))
((To start off, why don’t we have Conan and Rudy wake up in thee same room; as if they were running from the scribbles.We’ll let the improv decide if it really happened or not, hehe))

Rudy | Wait-What Happened | mintedstar/fur

The room was quiet, a room similar to the type of room one first finds upon waking up at this historical relic. There was two beds, divided by a night stand , without its iconic lamp. Thee walls were barren, nothing-just walls the plain walls that either scream boring or gottem. Furthermore, there was one doorway offf to the side that led to the long questionable hallway of this gigantic relic that could not even be trusted in terms of traditional architecture.

Rudy was initially knocked out, but he had started to twitch, his legs wobbly and his heart rate racing. It almost looked like he was trying to run-with all his might. Then his brething had grown shallow, to a near choke which forced him to flinch awake still in bed. “-Run!” He nearly gasped out, his body feeling like it was sinking faster and faster to the depths of the unknown. He couldn’t move-it was difficult to try. The sleep paralysis of jolting awake suddenly was hitting him hard as head felt light, and his fingers went numb. His shallow breathing was a gasp desperately gasping for breath as what he assumed to be the end was maybe-wait a dream? His head was spinning, he was very light headed. H tried to control his breathing but it was easier said then done as his breaths were out of sync and massive gasps. Surrendering the struggle to get up, he layed in place looking up at the bare ceiling. His head still spinning and his body still numb. Nonetheless, he was trying to recollect running-with “-C-Conan..” He softly spoke up, his eyes blinking as he tried once more to get up but disbalanced instead rolled over on his side to spot the other bed. “O-Oh...” he took in another long breath.