You just arrived at the great Hall of Death. It's lively, Mexican music playing on the first floor as the Hall owner, Milo, hosts a party. Some people are dancing, some discussing their deaths, some reading, some drinking imaginary drinks, some flirting or making out. You come in, and everyone pauses, heads turning as they all watch your pale, bloody form. Milo takes one look at you and says, "Nobody talk to them. This one will take longer to settle. You- second floor. Everyone's quiet up there. Or you can pick a room if you want alone time."