Post-apocalyptic setting

[miltia]

Your character's world has ended and purgatory awaits them, a wasteland full of ruined buildings. The surrounding desert constantly wears down the buildings with a neverending wind. There aren't any monsters to worry about, no zombies or demons, but your characters are haunted by the ghosts of people they once knew and there's only one escape from

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[rope_victim]

If dreaming of her dead brother had been bad, then being shipped to an institute for nights of unending horror was worse, then waking up to days and nights of constant ghosts was sheer, unadulterated hell. It was hard for Miku to wake up some days, she felt the ghosts weighing down on her like sheets of lead. But, up she got and out she went. Her skin was red with curse marks of one make or another, and she moved slowly. There was nothing physical to hurt her anymore, just...

...just the dead. The dead always hurt worse, without question. They were hungry for her warmth, for her soul's blue light. In the beginning, she could outrun them, but now, now she felt so slow.

Miku rounded the corner just as slowly as ever and came face to face with a tall woman. She screamed.

[rope_victim]

Miku held her cheek and whimpered. As if the cursemarks on her face weren't painful enough, the woman had struck her. There were ghosts around her, and though they looked benevolent at the moment, Miku wasn't sure when they would shift.

"You would scream too, if you only saw the dead," she murmured softly, trying to will the pain away from her cheek. Her shoulders sagged.

(Sorry for the delay, I had no internet for a bit. ;A; )

[rope_victim]

"The ghosts, what else?" Miku replied calmly, once the pain had dulled to a low roar across her cheek. The older woman was much taller than Miku was, and she seemed kind of...

Domineering? Was that the word she was thinking of? Probably not. "Who are you?" She could do a lot of things, but nothing so handy as looking in someone's head would be. No, her abilities lay strictly with the dead, and with the objects that held great emotions.

[rope_victim]

Miku watched her very, very carefully. She hadn't given the older woman her name, and she was suspicious. Well, as suspicious as she had any right to be. Though the pain that lanced across her body was incredible, she had managed to keep herself mostly whole and hale. "It's... It's Hinasaki Miku." Emma was a stranger; it wasn't like it had been with Ritsuka, or Sousuke. She wasn't going to let any stranger use her given name so familiarly.

"You shouldn't speak to the dead," she warned gently. "They'll ask you to put too much of yourself inside them... they're always so..." cold, she trailed off and shrugged. "But, it's fine; I know you didn't mean to." Easy to forgive, at least that was still one of her good points.