Room? What room? You are quite sure that you do not reside in a room. At least, you believe so. You find it challenging to remember things for extensive periods of time.
However, you do know that you sleep in a grave, marked by a daintily decorated tombstone.
But you digress. You are still nameless, and we cannot have that!
You have complete trust in this mysterious namegiver. You know that deep down, they are a kind and sympathetic creature, and you have full confidence that they will give you a brilliant name, indeed.
Your trust is completely shattered. The world you once thought was beautiful and pristine has now revealed itself to be a gigantic pile of backstabbing shit. You not only have complete hatred towards this trans-dimensional douchenozzle, but you are still without a name!
Oh, you hadn’t thought about that. Then again, you don’t really do much thinking.
The name engraved reads “Miyako” in what you can only assume is ancient Egyptian ass peelings.
Miyako… you are almost certain this rings a bell…
==>Suddenly remember everything.
You complete this command with minimal success. However, it is just enough success for you to remember your name!
Your name is YOSHIKA MIYAKO and if it wasn’t quite obvious before, you are DEAD… Sort of. You’re technically UNDEAD.
You are the guard of the DREAM PALACE GREAT MAUSOLEUM. Well, the guard of the graveyard preceding it. You rarely ever go into the actual thing. You’re too busy with your GUARDING DUTIES. Unfortunately, however, you make for a pretty shitty guard. You don’t mind this, though. You mostly just spend your time GOOFING OFF with VARIOUS VISITORS and your pet ghost, SQUIGGLES.
Your chumhandle is amnemonicCadaver and [You speeeeak in a strange waaaay that involves draaagging out your wooords, and your ofuda makes your thoughts quiiiiite easy to reeeeead.]