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wake up

You open your eyes. And then immediately squeeze them shut as a cloud of chalk dust gets clapped in your face, the student next to you looking surprised— but the sort of surprised as if they're faking it, barely suppressing a laugh. "What're you dozing off for, transfer student?" they ask, going back to wiping clean the chalkboard you two are standing in front of. "The sooner we get everything cleaned up, the sooner we can go home!" Another classmate tosses a wet rag at the side of your face, laughing as if a joke— if it weren't strangely warm to the touch, with dark red stains smelling strongly of iron.

All characters open their eyes and wake up in one of the classrooms around school. Whatever they remember last, it's lost in a thick, sleepy fog, the drowsiness still wearing off and making it difficult to reconcile the fact that they've never seen this classroom or these people in their lives, but somehow, it feels like they've been here forever. The other students all act familiar towards you, calling you by name and encouraging you to help clean the classrooms as part of observing the Vernal Equinox. Buckets of soapy water are set on the desks around the classrooms, light pink suds spilling over the sides, and both students and faculty can be seen hard of work scrubbing dark, stubborn stains out of the walls and floors. "It must be absolutely spotless," they murmur under their breaths. "All evidence must be erased."

You don't have to stay and clean. You could throw the rag back into a bucket and flip these strangers the bird and exit the classroom. But those who don't help clean even a little will find that they leave sticky red footprints wherever they walk, creating more work for everybody else and becoming very easy to track down and """accidentally""" knock over the backside of the head with a mop handle. Besides, it's not like you can walk out of the school and get back to whatever you were doing before. Your feet may bring you to the front door on autopilot, but the doors do not open for you, and neither do any of the windows no matter how hard you try to pry them open or kick them in.

Careful, though. On some windowsills, particularly on the third and fourth floors, rests a stack of five flat stones one on top of another: a gorinto to those who recognize such a thing, a pile of rocks to those who do not. The stones are all damp with water, topped with a scattering of wisteria flowers, and flanked by cheap packaged snacks. Whether on accident or on purpose, the moment you touch any of it—-

wake up

You open your eyes. The last thing you remember is touching a wet stone or trying to swipe the rice cracker beside it, and in the next moment, you're somewhere else inside the school. Characters who touch the gorinto or its offerings will find themselves pulled into a memory of high school life, one that feels like theirs, although they recognize that that's impossible. There's the feeling of being classmates with the other characters- perhaps two characters are seat partners, or best friends, or rivals, or club members- but despite the familiarity, do not know each other's names or recall ever seeing their faces before. Essentially, live your pre-established cr high school au dreams.

The memories fade in and out of different scenarios, but they all start off the same: You open your eyes.

You open your eyes and the inside of your left wrist is stinging; you stop scratching, pulling your other hand away before the angry red lines on your skin splits and bleeds. Somebody calls your name, just as you see a pan slide off the stovetop out of the corner of your eye, and the stinging on your wrist flares to a searing burn, hot oil splattering you and the person next to you.

You open your eyes. You're flat on your back in a room that smells of paint thinner, your chest is heavy, and it's so hard to breathe. Something is crushing your throat- a fluffy white cat with golden eyes, purring and kneading away, but then somebody calls your name and its fluff puffs twice its size in surprise, claws sinking into your throat, hooking and tearing as the cat scampers away.

You open your eyes. A kendo shinai comes down hard on your head, the one in your hand failing to come up quick enough to guard, your classmates groaning in sympathy all around you. Your head is spinning, you feel sick.

You open your eyes. You and a friend are seated side by side in the clock tower, back to the walls and feeling the resounding toll of the bell fill your entire being as the count reaches ten, eleven, twelve. The world turns to silence. Your friend opens their mouth to speak, but you cannot hear them. You cannot hear anything.

(tw: implied suicide) You open your eyes. Your classmate sits on the other side of your desk, a spread of sandwiches and juice boxes between you and the window to your side providing a clear view of the upper branches of the wisteria tree in full bloom. And the strangled look on an upperclassman's face as they fall headfirst from the sky on the other side of the glass, hurtling towards the pavement of the courtyard below.

You open your eyes—-

You're standing in front of a window, cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulling it away from the pile of stones. Perhaps another character has come to your rescue, or else one student in particular who shakes his head, whispers "don't," and walks away.

wake up

You open your eyes and wipe a bit of drool off the corner of your mouth. There's really no shame, when half the students sitting around you in the auditorium are half asleep as well. As if coming out of a dream, the characters don't remember getting here, just that they are now- sitting in uncomfortably hard plastic chairs in the back rows in the auditorium, the school principal's flat, droning voice reverberating oddly off the walls of the large room. No matter how hard you try, you cannot get up out of your seat.

"...and now, let us congratulate the graduating class," the principal says, stepping back from the podium. A single student rises to her feet and meets the principal at the center of the stage, her long dark hair falling across her face as she bows and receives her diploma. "Congratulations, graduate. May your life be full and prosperous. Please, if you would say a few words..."

The girl straightens and pushes her hair out of her face with one hand— she has no other hand, the entire sleeve of her right rolled all the way up to the shoulder and pinned flat. She forgoes the podium and the microphone, but somehow, her voice rings out clearly and reaches all the way to the back of the room: "Keep your eyes open."

With that parting message, she steps off the stage, disappearing into the mass of students who stand and fill the room with applause, drawing the graduation ceremony to a close. Characters find that they can now get up and move, which is a good thing because the other students are all pushing and shoving to get out of the auditorium and out the front doors, phasing right through the closed doors. Like a sieve, the school empties out, leaving behind the dregs.

wake up

Your eyes are open and the school is quiet. None of the students or faculty remain in the school, and all the staff— the principal, faculty, nurse, and counselor's— offices are locked. A skinny black cat flicks its tail from where it sits on top one of the lockers, where characters can find a copy of the school calendar showing the next two weeks to be spring vacation, with the school being closed for the holiday.

At least, with school vacated, it's clear from those left who's in the same boat and allows the chance for exploration away from prying eyes of the other students and staff. Introductions are probably in order, a discussion of what the fuck is going on, maybe also a plan of attack— or a plan for survival, at the very least, because there is no way out of this school. What ingredients are left in the home economics kitchen is going to have to last everybody the next two weeks. The student store is already empty. The water runs pink. The vending machines don't respond to jostling or being kicked over and brought to the ground, only the last dozen "merit points" on your PDA that you can't earn any more of, with class out of session. The snack you've been hiding in your locker should probably be saved as a last resort. The cats are starting to look tasty.

Hang in there. School will be starting again real soon.

OOC

✽ Characters experience the recurring feeling of drifting in (school life) and out (canon life) of sleep up until the graduation ceremony, after which they will have full awareness and come to their senses. Pre-established cr is possible to some extent, as a varying degree of familiarity may remain, but all characters will be strangers to one another unless they know each other in canon. All npcs will know the characters' names, but characters will not know each other's names until introduced.

✽ The second prompt occurs upon a character touching a gorinto or any of the offerings surrounding it. While touching it, characters fall into a trance and experience different scenes of high school life, with examples given in the prompt but players are free to play out any aspect of normal school life taking place at any time during the school year.

✽ stopit is an npc and will be available for threading in his toplevel during the vernal equinox and graduation day, but not during spring break. After the game opens, he will be available as a student for threading on the npc contact page. The graduating student will not be available for threading in this TDM.

✽ During spring break, all npc students and faculty will be absent from the school, with exception of one white cat and one black cat. For this TDM, in addition to the areas greyed out and inaccessible on the locations page, the faculty office and nurse's office are locked and unavailable, as there is no staff. The library and club rooms remain open, but supplies will not replenish themselves.

✽ As a reminder, all doors and windows leading outside are locked and cannot be broken. From midnight until 6AM, all sound disappears from the world. Characters are free to use their PDA as a network, but it is text (and shitty touchpad art) only and all threads are public.

✽ TDM threads may be used for bonus activity after April AC is submitted.

Comments

[optimistical]

Ko... maeda-kun...?

[ The horror is slowly displaced with confusion. Komaeda-kun... Komaeda-kun... that's... the person in front of him, right? The one holding his hand? The one with the mechanical arm because he cut off his original for... ]

[ The riled-up energy is now gone, and Naegi looks up at the other, trying to sort through the haze in his mind. ]

You're... Komaeda-kun, right? From... Hope's Peak...?

*has a little insanity spill before becoming "normal" again*

[commences]

( no matter how many times he tries to have a feeling like that surpressed, the worst of him begins to leak out. naegi's slow, but hesitant voice as he begins to pick apart the pieces of what the truth may be — to unfold that knowledge onto komaeda allows him to function properly. well, if one can call the wide-eyed expression on his face anything close to being normal. not the way his eyes slowly begin to swirl in a hypnotic rhythm, a smile on his face as familiar words bring back a familiar feeling —

that twisted love of his breaks him easily, he could care less about himself, but the school's name triggers something within him — )

Trash... ( that's right, he's trash, this topic only further explains it. ) Trash like me shouldn't be acknowledged when you speak of Hope's Peak Academy! Ah.. ( why does the name sound so rusty on his tongue, why hasn't he mentioned the name in awhile? it feels like forever — especially as his heart flutters now at the thought. ) Such talented students exist to pave the way to absolute hope — you know this, as Symbol of H —

( the way he stares at naegi so he can get one last look is all he needs for his brain to completely shut down. his grip on the brunette's hand tightening as komaeda's obsession triggers over common sense. his voice becomes low as sudden realization hits in, the unhealthy mixture in his eye turns and turns.. )

And you.. are ... ( he sounds as if he's trying to make sense of himself. there's a faint whisper in his mind that the person before him is important, more important than what komaeda could ever be. that's right.. he's someone to be looked upon, he's important. ) ...the hope... hope.. that defeated her. A hope that I.. ( it's always been a pure form. ) ...love so much —

( that statement comes out to slow, and it's the absolute truth as he realizes who he's holding onto right now. his his hands shakes with naegi's between his own as komaeda continues — his heart skips a beat at the moment he speaks, voice abrupt. )

Amazing! It's you, it's you!? The hero who cast out despair by their own talent... she wasn't able to stand a chance! The conflicting battle between hope and despair..

( his hand might start feeling a little... sticky, he's excited which is easily visible by how his body shakes with fervor. the worst part is this all hits him like a truck, a wave of powerful emotions as he can't even understand the position he's in. )

...your efforts trampling over even the idea of it. You're a ray of light for us to see through the dark, and yet I was clouded all this time before your greatness! The chance to have you in my grasp.. to touch the very being who punished despair's every means — ahahahaha.. Only absolute hope can combat something so insolent like despair, your... ( and he dies down, that burst of energy completely lost from him as he raises one hand to his head — confused by his own voice, he heard nothing, it came out naturally, and then he wonders mostly to himself why his heart skips a beat every time he looks at the other, and so his eyes glance towards the floor. )

..Where.. did all that come from.. ( his head, hurts.. nothing makes sense, but what he does know.. ) Please.. get away from me.

i'm not letting you get away that easily

[optimistical]

[ Naegi doesn't utter a sound. The fog starts to thin out and the memories slowly return back to him, like a far-off dream after he focuses. With every word that spills out of Komaeda's mouth, more and more becomes clear until eventually, he comprehends what the other student is saying. ]

[ Despair, talent, hope, he understands. He understands all of it. He knows what Komaeda's talking about, and his hand, still within the taller boy's grasp, tightens into a gentle grip. He raises his other hand, the one that's still free, to also clasp onto Komaeda's - to keep him steady - to hold him if he were to fall. ]

Wh-What's wrong?

[ Was it too much? Did the memories hit Komaeda all at once like a train? There's a dull ache running through his head, but everything is coming at a pace that avoids the overload, that avoids the sharper pain. ]

You... You remember too, right? I'm Makoto Naegi. We...

[ He pauses. His mouth is dry. ]

We shared the same talent.

SIGHS

[commences]

( how could he forget something so important? how could he forget.. ultimate hope of all people, the people who singlehandedly destroyed ultimate despair by his own means. it sends a shiver down his body at the thought, but he's even more disappointed in himself that he had missed it, naegi's own eyes witnessed it all. to be in the view of someone so important — someone who has changed the way that komaeda views ordinary people (he even had faith in the other's sister... sister?), but this ain't about her. )

Yes.. but mine compared to yours... makes me more worthless than I am now.

( where naegi's hand rests in his own, komaeda pulls it closer to his chest so that the other can feel how fast his heart beats. he doesn't want to let go, so slowly he slips his pale, thin fingers between naegi's own, holding onto him. )

I.. I never thought I'd be able to see you up close.. ( the flush on his face, the way his sickly, pale face has a few beads of sweat here and there. he has a headache, the throbbing sensation plagues him even more that he's unable to stand it. so he tries to focus on something else, he focuses on the other's eyes. ) ... Makoto Naegi-kun.. you're beautiful.