Entry tags:
- !event,
- black torch: jiro azuma,
- dangan ronpa: hajime hinata,
- dangan ronpa: kiyotaka ishimaru,
- dangan ronpa: kokichi ouma,
- dangan ronpa: nagito komaeda,
- dr. stone: senku ishigami,
- elsword: clamor ventus,
- elsword: noah ebalon,
- ensemble stars: natsume sakasaki,
- hanako-kun: nene yashiro,
- kokoro connect: himeko inaba,
- lazytown: stephanie meanswell,
- mahouyaku: white,
- mo dao zu shi: meng yao,
- my hero academia: katsuki bakugo,
- my hero academia: shoto todoroki,
- trinity blood: abel nightroad,
- wonder egg priority: rika kawai
April event
04/04, 23:56
M.Arisu
hey... anybody who's awake to see this. hope you're not having too much trouble sleeping.
get rest when you can. work together when you can.
all we can do is keep trying, but i'm hopeful for this year.
feels weird to say... but it's all going to be gone soon, so...
anyways.
see you at school tomorrow.
04/05, 06:00
The silence continues until six in the morning with the toll of the clock tower bells, and anybody near the locker area will hear two women in mid-conversation as they phase through the front doors, heels clicking on the ground: "-—didn't even have the decency to finish the job! And now I have to— oh, stop crying, for goodness' sake! I swear—" It's a one sided conversation, mostly, and one that stops short the moment the women spot the students lingering around. While the younger woman, recognizable as the assistant principal, hurriedly scrubs at her face with her sleeves, the unfamiliar older woman with the oddly dissonant voice scowls intensely. "I don't need this on the first day of school! Students trespassing over break! I can't believe it! I don't have time for this—" she huffs, shaking her head and stomping down the hall towards the faculty office. "Miss Nene, I expected better of you! And you! Miss Ritsuka— the two of you shall report to the faculty office after the entrance ceremony. I expect a full report of everybody involved. Now behave yourselves and go to the auditorium."
Goodbye...
The assistant principal is left behind and looks confused and distraught. She sniffles and ducks her head a little, draws a shaking breath and stands a little taller. "I'm so sorry. I'll hear you all out after- after this is done. Alright?" She too heads towards the faculty office, trying her best to smile at those she passes by. While they may be followed, they seem to phase through the faculty office doors which remain closed and locked, and cannot be interacted with until after the ceremony.
Until then, other students start to filter through the front door, seeking out friends and chatting about their breaks, remembering about homework and asking if anybody actually did it so they can copy off them before classes start, laughing at any mention of being locked inside the school all break because what?? that's silly. A handful of students wear yellow armbands on the left sleeve of their uniform, marking them as members of the student council, and these student council members go around finally removing the gorinto from the window sills, tossing the rocks into a bag without any apparent ill effects, and collecting the snacks in a separate bag— though they'll offer the food to anybody they pass who looks hungry enough. Which is a lot of you. One or two might give a short lecture about the importance of eating breakfast to start the day off right. Other student council members busy themselves in the locker area, posting the new homeroom assignments and updating the school calendar to reflect exam dates and breaks for the coming year, or help setting chairs out in neat rows in the auditorium in preparation for the entrance ceremony.
Goodbye...
The assistant principal is left behind and looks confused and distraught. She sniffles and ducks her head a little, draws a shaking breath and stands a little taller. "I'm so sorry. I'll hear you all out after- after this is done. Alright?" She too heads towards the faculty office, trying her best to smile at those she passes by. While they may be followed, they seem to phase through the faculty office doors which remain closed and locked, and cannot be interacted with until after the ceremony.
Until then, other students start to filter through the front door, seeking out friends and chatting about their breaks, remembering about homework and asking if anybody actually did it so they can copy off them before classes start, laughing at any mention of being locked inside the school all break because what?? that's silly. A handful of students wear yellow armbands on the left sleeve of their uniform, marking them as members of the student council, and these student council members go around finally removing the gorinto from the window sills, tossing the rocks into a bag without any apparent ill effects, and collecting the snacks in a separate bag— though they'll offer the food to anybody they pass who looks hungry enough. Which is a lot of you. One or two might give a short lecture about the importance of eating breakfast to start the day off right. Other student council members busy themselves in the locker area, posting the new homeroom assignments and updating the school calendar to reflect exam dates and breaks for the coming year, or help setting chairs out in neat rows in the auditorium in preparation for the entrance ceremony.
04/05, 08:00
The opening ceremony starts at 8, with students and staff moving to the auditorium to sit with their homeroom class, calling characters out by name and dragging them over to their seat— physically if need be, and they're much stronger than they look. Unlike the graduation ceremony, characters are not forced to come to the entrance ceremony, but the moment they take a seat, they find that they can neither speak nor get up again until the ceremony is over.
The assistant principal stands behind the podium on stage, looking rather nervous as she glances down at the watch on her wrist for it to be time, and clears her throat before addressing the room. "Yogen High welcomes you, all our new students," she pauses, beaming at the row of first year classes before her gaze sweeps over the rest of the student body, "our transfer students, our returning students, our... repeat students..." Looking at you, Norton, Gawain, Abel... "I, um. You may have noticed that I am standing in for our principal today, who is currently... unavailable... and didn't exactly leave any notes to go off of..." She wilts a little, but trucks on nonetheless and continues the address, promising that the teachers will pass along any important announcements, expressing her belief in the potential of young minds, and wishing everybody a fulfilling school year. The ceremony concludes in a little under an hour, and the spell binding the students to their seats is broken, allowing everybody to rise and leave.
School lets out for the rest of the day with classes starting the next morning, and while many students take the opportunity to leave, some linger around the school. Gossip is flying already with news of the transfer students caught breaking into the school over break and what punishments they might get, rumors of what happened to the principal ranging from a family emergency to hospitalization to death, complaints about the water pipes not getting fixed over break, and general excitement over upcoming events listed on the bulletin board by the lockers, in particular new club advertisements, fortune telling ads, and a Charity Auction to be hosted the Monday after Golden Week next month.
The assistant principal stands behind the podium on stage, looking rather nervous as she glances down at the watch on her wrist for it to be time, and clears her throat before addressing the room. "Yogen High welcomes you, all our new students," she pauses, beaming at the row of first year classes before her gaze sweeps over the rest of the student body, "our transfer students, our returning students, our... repeat students..." Looking at you, Norton, Gawain, Abel... "I, um. You may have noticed that I am standing in for our principal today, who is currently... unavailable... and didn't exactly leave any notes to go off of..." She wilts a little, but trucks on nonetheless and continues the address, promising that the teachers will pass along any important announcements, expressing her belief in the potential of young minds, and wishing everybody a fulfilling school year. The ceremony concludes in a little under an hour, and the spell binding the students to their seats is broken, allowing everybody to rise and leave.
School lets out for the rest of the day with classes starting the next morning, and while many students take the opportunity to leave, some linger around the school. Gossip is flying already with news of the transfer students caught breaking into the school over break and what punishments they might get, rumors of what happened to the principal ranging from a family emergency to hospitalization to death, complaints about the water pipes not getting fixed over break, and general excitement over upcoming events listed on the bulletin board by the lockers, in particular new club advertisements, fortune telling ads, and a Charity Auction to be hosted the Monday after Golden Week next month.
April
School is school... The first thing teachers ask at homeroom Tuesday morning is for students to hand in their spring break homework. Didn't do it? You're on their shit list now. Characters are not forced to attend class, but patrolling faculty and student council members will heckle any truant students into going and can be a pain to deal with. Classes aren't taught terribly, though. The second year math teacher has a knack for easily digestible explanations, even if she writes and erases the board a bit too quickly to copy. The third year literature teacher combines weekly analytical essays with film studies, and is showing Child's Play, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Silence of the Lambs, and Where the Red Fern Grows this month. The first year biology teacher brings eyeballs and frogs and rats for dissection during anatomy lessons, and if you have a special request for a specific eye color, give him a day or two and he can deliver. 2-A's homeroom teacher can be seen stealing chalk from each of the second year classroom she rotates through and is offering extra credit to any students who sneak her chalk without asking questions.
New students will quickly learn that merit points are awarded for a full day's attendance, turning in homework, participating in class and clubs, scoring 80% or higher on quizzes and exams, etc. Less predictably, the PDA may sometimes ping for a single merit point when hanging out with a friend or arguing with a classmate, with stronger emotions (positive or negative) when interacting with somebody else more likely to trigger a point, and if students are abusing this system, it's kept out of the faculty's eyes. As the month goes on, sometimes a student comes to class with a cut eyelid, or a busted lip, or bandages wrapped thick around a wrist, but they always deny anything more than clumsiness or an accident or having pets who very aggressively show their love. Sometimes it's harder to hide, when a bloody nose drips onto the ground or bleeding knuckles brush against the wall, and those near enough to see blood touch the building will find that everything sort of... shifts... Just for a second. The feeling of vertigo that stops almost as soon as it begins, the world tilting without slotting back into alignment. You feel a bit nauseous. Just a little.
You go to the bathroom to splash water on your face and the pink looks a little darker, a little more solid. On the fourth floor, the water has stopped running in the bathroom sinks altogether, and students are told to go downstairs to do their business so that they may wash up after. With more students milling around the bathrooms, it's much easier to notice that people's reflections in the mirrors are just a bit off, lagging that split second long enough to be impossible to ignore once aware.
Every day you have homework. A new essay for something or other is assigned each week. Nobody wants to do group projects with a slacker who can't promise to meet up after school to get it done. Like clockwork, the school empties out at 6 PM each school day, leaving those behind to their own devices. There is no school on Sundays. Golden Week marks the end of the month, and guess who's going to be stuck at school for an entire week with only vending machine junk food to live off of if they aren't able to make progress concerning their living situation? Yeah.
New students will quickly learn that merit points are awarded for a full day's attendance, turning in homework, participating in class and clubs, scoring 80% or higher on quizzes and exams, etc. Less predictably, the PDA may sometimes ping for a single merit point when hanging out with a friend or arguing with a classmate, with stronger emotions (positive or negative) when interacting with somebody else more likely to trigger a point, and if students are abusing this system, it's kept out of the faculty's eyes. As the month goes on, sometimes a student comes to class with a cut eyelid, or a busted lip, or bandages wrapped thick around a wrist, but they always deny anything more than clumsiness or an accident or having pets who very aggressively show their love. Sometimes it's harder to hide, when a bloody nose drips onto the ground or bleeding knuckles brush against the wall, and those near enough to see blood touch the building will find that everything sort of... shifts... Just for a second. The feeling of vertigo that stops almost as soon as it begins, the world tilting without slotting back into alignment. You feel a bit nauseous. Just a little.
You go to the bathroom to splash water on your face and the pink looks a little darker, a little more solid. On the fourth floor, the water has stopped running in the bathroom sinks altogether, and students are told to go downstairs to do their business so that they may wash up after. With more students milling around the bathrooms, it's much easier to notice that people's reflections in the mirrors are just a bit off, lagging that split second long enough to be impossible to ignore once aware.
Every day you have homework. A new essay for something or other is assigned each week. Nobody wants to do group projects with a slacker who can't promise to meet up after school to get it done. Like clockwork, the school empties out at 6 PM each school day, leaving those behind to their own devices. There is no school on Sundays. Golden Week marks the end of the month, and guess who's going to be stuck at school for an entire week with only vending machine junk food to live off of if they aren't able to make progress concerning their living situation? Yeah.
Charity Auction
At least students have the charity auction to look forward to and work towards. Information about the auction set on May 10 can be found on the bulletin board, and appears to be put together by the student council as an annual event and an incentive for students to start the year off strong in earning merit points. Both students and staff are encouraged to donate to the auction, with the items collected and put on display in the auditorium behind locked glass cases. On May 10, students will be able to bid on items using their merit points, those who donate will receive 10% of the winning bid towards their item, and the school will match donations 100 to 1 point with proceeds going towards the "Save A Brain Foundation."
Throughout the month, glass cases lining the walls of the auditorium start to fill up with donations. The most popular donations seem to be physical items: possessions such as jewelry or gaming consoles, or artistic creations such as hand sewn clothing or paintings. There are placeholders for things that can't be put on display all month, such as placards with a picture or description of homemade food that won't be prepared until the auction date, or the promise of fishing lessons with the guidance counselor or a dinner date with the school principal (pending availability). At the back of the room stands the largest case, with the skinny black cat often found lying on top of it as if guarding it, although it will run away when approached.
Inside the case is a body.
Throughout the month, glass cases lining the walls of the auditorium start to fill up with donations. The most popular donations seem to be physical items: possessions such as jewelry or gaming consoles, or artistic creations such as hand sewn clothing or paintings. There are placeholders for things that can't be put on display all month, such as placards with a picture or description of homemade food that won't be prepared until the auction date, or the promise of fishing lessons with the guidance counselor or a dinner date with the school principal (pending availability). At the back of the room stands the largest case, with the skinny black cat often found lying on top of it as if guarding it, although it will run away when approached.
Inside the case is a body.
OOC
- ✽ Refer to the npc contact page for which students and faculty are currently available for interaction. The assistance principal will do what she can to accommodate the characters stuck inside the school, but the extent of her help will depend on what is asked of her and how interactions with her go.
- ✽ The body does not seem to change or rot inside the case, and most npc students will unconvincingly express their belief that it's just a very life-like doll. Closer investigation of the body will not be available until next month, if a character manages the winning bid. Merit points earned are handwaved at player discretion, within reason.
- ✽ The plot will only move forward as things are discussed and acted upon, and clues distributed during app acceptances are meant to be shared and connected, so don't be afraid to ask questions and dig into things! I am here to enable.
Biology
It's the weird collision of memories between Oryou's frog obsession and Shuten-douji's...
...
...well,
That's getting her.]
Getting reminded of that time Shuten rearranged my guts in class is not a good time.
[PHRASING, RITSUKA,]
no subject
H-huh? Are you okay after that?
[Noah doesn't know a Shuten, and he's taking Ritsuka's statement to mean that she got the everliving daylights beaten out of her in class, which makes him wonder if she beat up this person back or what? Like, it could be literal gut-rearranging, like her stomach is now on top of her lungs or something, but that's a level of mad science Noah's not interested in thinking about.
Anyway. Weird thoughts aside.]
Who's Shuten? [A pause, and then,] Do they go to school here?
i think presenting this without internal monologue makes it funnier
...in terms of reputation, I mean. She has a pretty tiny body, though.
I got trapped by her up on a mountain one time and she spent a night just... sticking her hand into my stomach. Tangling my intestines. Stuff like that.
Technically, it was for my own good, but whoof. Makes this kind of thing deeply unpleasant to look at.
Oh, I got better though!
you are 100% correct!
[What else can he say to that?]
How did... how does one overcome... do you have some supernatural healing factor or what? Why did she literally rearrange your guts?
[He has so many questions, but they're all blurring together in a big mess of "what the fuck Ritsuka are you okay?"]
no subject
Some people aren't as used to the horribly traumatic things that Ritsuka has gone through as she is.]
A friend of mine had some... probably magical ointment that closed the wound when he found me. It was enough to help me get on my feet again, at least.
And it's... complicated. [Ritsuka makes a vague, handwavey gesture to emphasize her point.] Mages like me have special organs called magic circuits. Shuten, or, er, the Berserker of Samhghata Hell, that was her cursed name then, was...
[Magecraft is a rabbit hole, Noah.]
Gah, it's hard to explain. Basically, she was extra crazy on top of being weird crazy from the curse that was possessing her, which meant that she wrapped all away around, combined with some weird divine power of hers, and somehow linked up to another version of herself that was my ally. I couldn't contact my home base because I was in a parallel world at the time, but Berserker somehow knew how to tweak my magic circuits in the right way so I'd be able to connect with them later.
Didn't make it any less painful, though.
no subject
That sounds like it sucked.
[Eloquent as always.]
I mean, I-I'm glad you're not dead, at least. Can I ask what parallel worlds are like? I've, uh, never gone to one. The closest I got was going back in time. [Like, a whole lot, but that's hardly the point.] Is it like... "everything is the same but this one thing" or is it entirely different?
[The dissection can wait. Learning about parallel worlds is obviously the priority now! It's much cooler and far less disgusting.]
no subject
[Ritsuka idly nibbles on the end of her pencil as she thinks of how to explain it in simple terms to Noah.]
There are two types of parallel worlds. Most of them are just... kinda parallel to ours with some really minor differences. Like, a town that was in ruins at one point in my world's history was prosperous in that parallel, or a ritual that only took place once took place at least four times. That sort of thing.
...
Then there are Lostbelts.
[Her face becomes unreadable.]
They suck.
[And that's all that Ritsuka has to say on the matter.]
no subject
I'm following everything else so far, but what's a Lostbelt? Are they dangerous?
[Did her organs get scrambled when she was in one of these Lostbelts? That would make sense. Imagine going to a parallel world and getting your organs all kinds of messed up, though. Blech. If a Lostbelt is how he's imagining it, aka "place where your organs get messed up and there's danger around every corner", Noah thinks that saying they suck might be a bit of an understatement.]
Oh, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I-I'm just interested, that's all.
[He won't force information out of Ritsuka if she doesn't want to talk about it. Her expression, unreadable as it may be, sort of says it all.]
no subject
There's a rule parallel worlds need to follow, at least where I come from: No matter what, there needs to be room for humanity to grow. There's usually some kind of safeguard to make sure that this happens—certain events are locked in place, and they always have to play out in the exact same way in order to make sure humanity can keep progressing.
Camelot always has to fall. The United States always has to be founded. Rome always has to last long enough to establish itself. That sort of thing.
[Ritsuka leans back and lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes as painful memories flit through her mind.]
When something happens in a parallel world that makes it so that one of these history-defining events either never happens or happens differently, that world becomes a Lostbelt. And it gets pruned to conserve energy, since whatever's left of humanity inside of it can't grow anymore.
That means the world just vanishes, along with everyone in it. It's supposed to be a mercy. [Something about Ritsuka's voice makes it hard to believe that part.]
Normally, you can't go to Lostbelts, since they don't... exist anymore. But some people on my world brought them back and planted them on my planet, and now they're in danger of erasing all of Proper Human History.
[She doesn't mention the part where she can count the number of surviving humans (not including Servants or herself) on her own two hands plus one extra finger. Noah doesn't need to be burdened with that knowledge.]