In the wild places, far from civilisation, where the only song to be heard is the wind in the gumtrees, the dead men gather. They build themselves the things they remember from life, but, aware that they but play at being alive, the thing they most build is theatres. Here, they enact the dances and dramas of the dead.
The necropolitic auditoria have many names, but most of them are named for the greatest bard of ancient Greece, and the one most connected to the underworld: Orpheus, husband of lost Eurydice and son of Calliope, the muse of children’s fair ground rides and epic poetry. It was named, like many a theatre, an Orpheum.
But the Orpheums of the Dead are unlike any other theatres. The Dead are both the actors and the audience, but they are not the whole audience. Such a thing also attracts, unsurprisingly, necromancers, with their traditional interest in the dead and low source of humour. The Orpheum of the Dead located on the Mornington Peninsula is famed among those of a necromantic bent as a species of spiritual ossuary, a place both literally and figuratively made of the bones of the dead: a Bony Orpheum. Or, as they nicknamed it, the Bony O.
Suburbs near Boneo: