[dearmcria]

maria jackson, twenty five, london musician, dirtbag now living in the good place.

[wwoeo]

his smile didn’t falter, though the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed his irritation. of course, his soulmate would be the first to witness his absolute failure in his assigned agricultural endeavors. how poetic. how cruel.

the ache in his back refused to let him hold the pose for long, so he exhaled sharply and finally stood up, letting his frustration seep into his voice. "really, though, what am i doing wrong? i followed the instructions. i tilled the soil, planted the seeds, watered them—" he paused, then gestured vaguely at the barely sprouting green things in front of him. "and yet, tragedy. i was promised serenity and personal growth, not… horticultural humiliation."

turning to maria, he gave her a resigned look. "i suppose this is when i start practicing patience." perhaps that was the promised personal growth here.

[dearmcria]

maria shrugged, clearly disinterested in the garden. in normal circumstances, she would have another sharp comment on the tip of her tongue, but truth was, she felt bad about the guy who was supposedly her soulmate. especially after finding out they lived in the worst ranked house of the neighborhood. maria didn't know akihiko, but she was pretty sure that was mostly on her. having a police record was not very heavenly, after all.

"fork patience." she said, raising an eyebrow. "you don't even know if this is actual soil. for all we know it could all be divine matter, or plaster, or... microplastics. and if you like flowers i'm sure janet will be happy to provide them. but i kinda like the wittered and sad look. it's very morticia addams if you think about it."

[highstakeslowmorals]

when  the  blonde  beside  him arched an  eyebrow  and  called  it  exactly  what  it  was,  he  let  out  a  low,  amused  hum,  tipping  his  head  slightly  in  her  direction.

“yeah,  real  cozy,  huh?”  he  mused,  taking  a  slow  sip  of his  mediocre  coffee.  “like  a  retirement  home  designed  by  someone  who  thinks  personality  is  a  liability.”

he  gave  her  a  once-over,  grinning  slightly  at  the  barely-hidden  distaste  in  her  expression.

“not  your  scene,  huh?”

not  that  he  could  blame  her.  if  he’d  had  any  say  in  the  afterlife  aesthetic,  it  sure  as  hell  wouldn’t  look  like  this.

then  she  asked  about  management.

that  made  him  chuckle,  dark  eyes  glinting  with  something  sharper,  more  amused.

“management?”  he  repeated,  rolling  the  word  around  like  he  was  tasting  it.  “oh,  i  dunno.  something  tells  me  whoever’s  running  this  place  isn’t  exactly  taking  calls.”

he  lifted  a  hand,  gesturing  vaguely  to  the  eerily  perfect surroundings.

“but  if  i  had  to  guess?”  he  clicked  his  tongue.  “saint  peter  in  a  suit  feels  a  little  too—i  dunno—efficient.  nah,  this  place  feels  more  like  it’s  being  run  by  a  customer  service  rep  on  their  last  nerve.”

he  smirked.  “or  maybe  it’s  just  janet.  all-knowing,  all-powerful,  and  definitely  not  getting  paid  enough  for  this  bullshit.”

[dearmcria]

she couldn't help but laugh. maria had always been a living in the moment person, thoughts of retirement and settling down as impossible as living in the land of oz. and now there she was. forever. it didn't even take a tornado, just a pt cruiser. how undignified. "i almost wish we had fluffy clouds and angels and all that, you know? at least that would be bizarre. i feel like i'm in a hgtv program."

"i'm sure we could find a suburban mom willing to take this all the way to management." she put on her poshest, snottiest voice. it was a scarily good impression that sounded a bit like camilla bowles. "it would be their idea of a good time, as well."

she hummed. "janet kinda gives me the creeps with her whole not a person thing. though i suppose we are not people anymore, are we? since we died."

[wwoeo]

open to anyone. @gpstarters location: outside his house.

akihiko knelt in his garden, surrounded by barely sprouting vegetables, dirt staining his once-pristine shirt. he glared at the mess, feeling his carefully constructed image crumble with every feeble plant. it drew a glaring parallel to his quaint home. he hated this. the sun beat down, and his hands were covered in grime, but he had to for the sake of the good place. as he sat back to stretch his aching back (why his bones would be hurting in literal heaven he had no clue,) a shadow fell over him. he looked up, forcing a charming smile. "ah, look at you," he said, gesturing to the chaos around him. "you’ve found me in the middle of my... masterpiece." he winked, hoping to mask his frustration. "isn't it wonderful i get to contribute to the neighborhood?"

[dearmcria]

maria frowned. though her childhood house was surrounded by beautiful gardens, they were all desined and kept by a team of gardeners her mom oversaw like a botanical dicatator. that is to say, she had very little experience with plants and dirt and the like, but she didn't think it was supposed to look like that... "it looks great." she said, not trying to hide the sardonical bite. it looked like shirt, but seeing as she couldn't even say (or really, think) the word shirt... an eye roll was the next best thing.

[highstakeslowmorals]

who:  open  starter  (@gpstarters)

where:  neighborhood  cafe

gabriel  had  never  been  a  man  burdened  by  deep  philosophical  questions.

he  didn’t  waste  time  wondering  if  he  deserved  to  be  here,  didn’t  sit  around  contemplating  the  cosmic  significance  of  his  existence.  that  was  a  waste  of  a  perfectly  good  eternity.

so  while  everyone  else  seemed  deeply  concerned  with  why  they  were  here,  gabriel  had  skipped  straight  to  acceptance—and  more  importantly,  opportunity.

at  the  moment,  he  was  loitering  outside  one  of  the  quaint  little  cafés,  sipping  on  a  drink  he’d  absolutely  not  paid  for  (who  was  gonna  stop  him?)  and  watching  people  freak  out  over  their  new  reality  like  it  was  a  spectator  sport.

“i  gotta  say,”  he  mused  aloud,  lifting  his  cup  slightly,  speaking  to  no  one  in  particular  but  loud  enough  that  someone  would  eventually  take  the  bait,  “for  a  place  that’s  supposed  to  be,  y’know—perfect—the  coffee’s  kinda  ass.”

he  took  another  sip  anyway,  grimaced,  and  then  let  out  a  deep,  exaggerated  sigh,  shaking  his  head  like  he  was  deeply  disappointed  in  the  divine  beverage  selection.

“i  mean,  really?  eternity,  and  this  is  what  we’re  working  with?  no  cuban  coffee?  no  espresso  that  makes  you  question  your  own  mortality?  just  this—”  he  swirled  the  liquid  around,  unimpressed,  “beige  sadness  in  a  cup?”

he  leaned  back  against  the  wall,  eyes  scanning  the  street,  looking  for  someone  who  looked  bored  enough,  curious  enough,  or  just  dumb  enough  to  engage  with  him.

“tell  me,  do  they  let  us  file  complaints  up  here,  or  is  this  more  of  a  ‘take  it  up  with  management  when  you  see  them’  kind  of  deal?”

[dearmcria]

maria was disconcerted. she never gave much thought to things like afterlife, concept of heaven and hell and all this bullshit... but if she had believed it, then she certainly never considered getting into the good place. maybe purgatory, sure. (was there even a purgatory? an okay-ish place?). maybe even the bad place downstairs. maybe sunday school did do her some good after all.

she looked at the man beside her, one arched eyebrow. "it's all very... quaint." she couldn't quite hide the distaste in her voice. maria spent her whole life trying to get away from quaintness. now she was living in a place straight out of her mother's wet dreams. ew. "but that's what the good place is supposed to be, i guess. like those expensive vegan places where the coffee is 12 pounds and gross."

"and who do you think management is? non-denominational-god? saint peter in a suit and tie?"

[futilclovcrs]

who: open ( @gpstarters )

where: town square

-- Kai checked his pocket for the hundredth time for his vape that still wasn't there. He figured being in the self-proclaimed Good Place would mean he'd never have to ask, "where's my vape?" ever again, but he was trying to accept that maybe the good thing to do was to finally attempt to quit. The other option was to just ask Janet for a new one everytime, but that was an unexpected feature of afterlife that he couldn't seem to get comfortable with. "To Janet or not to Janet, that is the question." He mused to whoever was close enough to hear. "It just feels weird to always be asking her for things. A little reductive to the feminist movement, don't you think?"

[dearmcria]

"i don't think janet is really a woman." she shrugged. the not-woman scared maria a little bit, in the way that it made her think of her childhood babysitters, bending over backwards to get her anything and everything while also being little more than a pair of spying eyes for her mother. she wondered if janet also had a celestial boss. non-denominational non-capital-letter god, perhaps. "also, what the fork do you know about feminist movements?" maria sighed heavily. the whole forking thing of not saying fork was getting to her.