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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.

(tw: implied suicide)

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

npc contact page

locations page

✽ 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.

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cleaning

[ amidst the gaggle of students who look disoriented and lost in this labyrinthine school is a man in his early thirties wearing a gakuran, gathering his bearings upon being stirred awake in these strange premises. figaro had insisted to his fellow "classmates" that no, he's absolutely too old to be a student at this point, but all he got was an exasperated huff and a bloody rag thrown at his face.

well, it's not like he didn't deserve that, given the stuff he'd committed back then, but this ain't about that right now. he's perceptive enough to catch the incriminating murmurs among the students, and it's a little worrying, so to speak.

for now, he'll just wing it. he's rather tall enough to reach the upper nooks and crannies, but he'll offer himself to anyone who needs a boost with a friendly smile and a wave of his wet rag. ]

Need a lift? I may not look like it, but I might be able to carry you on your shoulders if necessary.

[ unless you're like, a fully grown adult?? but hey at least he tried asking. ]

gorinto

[ he'd accidentally touched the offerings at the gorinto, but the memories flooding into his mind barely even deter him. aside from the fact that he's old as balls, most wizards don't even get proper education and mentors who'd actually treat their students well are rare enough as it is. sure, the various death flags are a little troubling, but figaro knows that they're simply not real.

he knows all too well that he won't die in such a mundane way, after all.

still, he has to pretend that this is all Very Shocking for him. whether someone snaps him out of it or he brought himself out of that trance, he turns to anyone who's around with a sheepish smile on his face. ]

Ah, that sure was something. I wouldn't recommend touching the offerings, if I were you. It might scar you for life.

[ probably. ]

exploration

[ after gaining his bearings, figaro can be found outside the clinic, trying to take a peek through the door while his hands shake at the doorknob in a paltry attempt to open it. ]

Locked... Well, that's fine. No one should get gravely injured so long as Doctor Figaro is around.

[ while wearing a school uniform??? one would think that he's talking out of his own ass.

alternatively he can be seen blocking the vending machines, tinkering away at his PDA like the ancient boomer that he is. ]

Fascinating... Is this what the Sage wanted Murr to make, I wonder?

[ says while he's making shitty drawings on the generic-ass paint app. rutile would've loved something like this, he thinks. ]

wildcard

[ come at me scrublords im ripped. feel free to pm me if you want something more customized, tho. ]

Edited 2021-03-22 03:46 (UTC)

You're a doctor?

[ The (appropriately aged) student next to him repeats slowly. Lucius stands out amongst the other kids by having white hair, though he fits the description of a socially anxious teenager quite well otherwise. His hands are kept close to himself, fidgeting a little as if he's not sure what to do. ]

What kind of doctor?

A rather good-looking one, wouldn't you say?

[ he winks. terrible. ]

I'm just kidding. I may not look like it right now, but I'm merely a humble village doctor from Southern Country. It's my first time wearing an outfit like this, too.

[ Absolutely terrible. Lucius isn't convinced, looking at him with a slight frown. Village doctor? Southern Country? First time wearing this outfit? He sounds like a guy right out of the Ash Dynasty... ]

Do you know anything about bacteria?

[ figaro blinks rapidly for a moment before letting out a laugh. ]

Of course! I wouldn't be a doctor otherwise. [ right??? look let's just assume he does since he lives in a fantasy world where some modern things do exist. kind of. ] What about them?

Oh, good.

[ So he's not that kind of backwater... Lucius still looks wary, but this wins points in Figaro's favour. ]

Though I don't suppose we could do much here even if we have the knowledge. There's no tools.

Can you?!

[ She's not a child, but who would pass up the chance to ride on somebody's shoulders? Not Ala, who has no cleaning supplies on her but holds her arms up in the air anyways, as if she expects Figaro to hoist her up by the armpits. ]

Absolutely. Here, hang on tight.

[ he... might not be able to lift her up by the armpits anymore, but he'll at least stoop down so that ala can plop down on his shoulders. ]

And here we... go!

[ give him a moment to stagger under her weight before he can stand up again. there! now a couple feet taller. ]

[ She sways for a moment, trying to regain her balance by keeping her arms aloft instead of grabbing fistfulls of Figaro's hair, but eventually she settles down and folds her arms on top of his head for stability. ]

Hehe... Let's walk around and tackle the ceilings together! We can meet the spiders in 3-B~

Haha, roger that.

[ and off they go! but not before he grabs a couple of rags and a feather duster, handing ala the latter. figaro lowers his head again on the way out the door so that the girl doesn't hit her head on the top of the doorjamb, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. ]

Did something happen in 3B too?

[ She doesn't want the feather duster, despite being the one to make the offer to clean, but okay... She takes it and sticks the handle in the back of Figaro's collar for safekeeping while they duck out of the this classroom and look around for the stairs that'll bring them up to the third floor. ]

Um, hm~ I forget!

[ There's just... spiders? Like a fact that she's never thought to refute, and so she never questioned why there are spiders in 3-B. There just are. That's where they live, where they belong, like students in a school. ]

You're not scared of them, are you? Fuzzy ones? Ones that jump?

[ don't just stick them inside other people's clothes, wtf. oh well, it's no skin off his nose. he just shakes his head at ala's question. ]

Not at all, really. Usually I can just zap them with magic - or just trap them in a jar, whichever works.

[ right. speaking of magic, it feels as though that certain aspect of his is missing, and it's making him feel a bit more uneasy than the general creepiness of the school tbh. ]

I should've handed you a rolled-up newspaper, now that I think about it. Can I trust you to take care of them, then?

[ It's fine! It won't slip, with the duster part sticking out of the collar and tickling the back of Figaro's neck the entire time, rip. ]

Haha, aw~ Poor spiders! If we whack 'em, we'll get gross bug guts everywhere!

[ She doesn't want to kill them! Trapping them with a jar has much more appeal to her, when she thinks about it. ]

You know what? Let's go find that jar instead. You get me up there, and I'll catch 'em! Then we can release them in the boy's bathroom!

Hm? But I go there, y'know?

[ what did he do to deserve this........ ]

It might be too early to decide their fate anyway. There should be some jars at the lab--

[ but right as he said that, he finds the lab completely locked, blocked by an eerie skeleton from the inside. he jiggles the doorknob anyway, to no avail. ]

Yep!

[ He goes there, she knows. She leans a bit further down his head, trying to see through the little window at the door. Ehh... ]

Boo... there's fun things like burners and stuff in there, too. Mister skeleton, sir, please open u—- uwah!!

[ She'd knocked on the top of the doorframe as a joke, but the moment her hand touches the surface, the skeleton tips forward and slams its head against the little window of the door, Ala nearly falling off Figaro's shoulders in shock.

It doesn't move again after that. It just... fell over? on accident?? maybe??? ]

Whoa there--

[ figaro reflexively holds ala's knees to keep her from falling over, letting out a sigh of relief as he crouches down on the ground. ]

Maybe we should save the two-person stack for when we find the spiders... [ ow, his back... he's still physically 32, after all. he's not getting any younger. ] Guess Mister Skeleton doesn't want to be disturbed for the time being.

[ Ala pouts a little at Mister Skeleton going

at them, but she supposes he's right and spares his spine by sliding off his back, giving the door handle a wiggle just in case, but it's locked up tight. ]

Aw, alright. We'll come bother him later, I guess... We still need to find a jar, though. How 'bout the home ec room? There's probably peanut butter and stuff there?

I don't need help.

[Noah isn't a very tall teenager, though — he's a lanky kid who definitely cannot reach the top shelves to wipe the dust off. He absolutely does need help. Stubborn as an ox, he decides he's just going to climb the shelves to get to the top like some little gremlin child... until some of their nearby classmates yell at him and he's forced to climb back down.

He doesn't want to clean anyway! And, also, he's pretty sure this is a school for students around his age! Not that... not that Noah has been to a school before, but still! But, well, he's sort of out of options.]

...actually... [a pause, and then Noah softly mutters,] I could use help, y...yeah.

[ to be fair, figaro hasn't gotten a formal education himself. but he's still winging the part of being a student despite looking anything but even in his uniform. he's more of a teacher anyway, but with these kids insisting that he Has to help them clean up this mess... well. it's gonna be hard. ]

So long as you don't mind sitting on my shoulders. I've carried kids like you before, so I'm used to it.

[ he offers noah a short smile and hands him another rug - a clean one, before he stoops down so that the younger man can sit on him, if he likes. ]

Come on, let's go.

[Noah is almost pouting at this point. Almost. He'll deny it if he's accused of it. After a short second of processing and deciding that nothing's actually going to get done if he just stands there, he reluctantly takes the clean rag and sits himself directly on Figaro's shoulders.]

Don't drop me.

[His tone is both a bit curt and a bit somber somehow; being carried on someone's shoulders like this reminds him of how he used to play with his elder brother when he was little, and ugh now he's the least bit sad.

If he thinks about it further, he's just going to end up crying, and that's not what he wants to do in front of a total stranger right about now. Rolling up his sleeves, Noah wipes the dust off of the top shelf instead, making double-sure that he's gotten every last spec lest one of these other super weird students make him redo the work and he has to bug Figaro for help again. That's the last thing he wants.]

...um. [He manages softly once he's done getting everything he possibly can, including destroying some cobwebs in the corner — blech.] I'm done. You can set me down. Th...thanks, Mister, um...

[Clamor is definitely too tall to be sitting on anyone's shoulders. On the other hand, he has gotten used to being much more compact, so to speak... so excuse him for giving a bit of a deer-in-headlights look as he tries to decide if he's hallucinating all of this or if this guy is just weird.

a few more seconds pass and he still has all his arms and legs though, so. probably just weird. He laughs awkwardly.]

Ahaha, what makes you think that?

Wouldn't you find something like this interesting?

( he asks, eyes sneaking to the side to stare at his helpful companion who gives aid by offering a simple warning, and that's one merlin should adhere by. normally, he's the one departing wisdom upon others because of his role, so to be the one helped is quite an unfamiliar position for him — yet, he doesn't reject the other at all. )

To have lived as long as I have — despite my charming, big brother looks — I want to know if I could truly be scarred. ( he chuckles at the idea as he looks back at the young man officially now, he can better drink in his appearance from top to bottom, and he's not displeased at all. )

I know. ( the magus takes slow steps towards the other, reaching out to grab his wrist ever so gently, his fingers tapping against his skin one by one so that he can tug him along. for someone with that much head of hair, how is he able to get around so fast (worry not, taking four steps back and forth isn't that bad). once he has the other standing in front of the gorinto with him, merlin analyzes them for what they're worth and speaks up again: )

If we were to touch them at the same time, what do you suppose would happen?

[ oh, to be pulled along the hallways by this mysterious flowery man. merlin's features do stand out among the rest of the transfer students, so it's impossible for figaro not to be aware of him - and yet he blinks when he's grabbed by the wrist and led towards the gorinto anyway. how forward... figaro's very forward himself, but sometimes he can be caught unaware by the softest of touches, and merlin's one of them.

he assess the rock structure again, turning to his companion once more. ]

Either we'll see the same thing, or different ones. You decide.

[ he smiles back. ]

Oh, but I could only imagine how long you must've lived... I'm only in my thirties yet I feel like I've seen everything. [ liar ] We should really sit down and talk about it sometime, if you're interested.

[ pants on fire. ]

( he's seen them before, yet the mystery of the gorinto is fascinating to him — from the other's words to their structure, there's this otherworldliness to them which is amplified by the wonders that the male next to him offers. there's this feeling of the unknown, and once again, merlin throws all caution to the wind as he keeps himself attached to the one beside him. the webs weaved by his words cross back and forth to make an intricate pattern that causes merlin to raise his gaze from the neatly placed rocks to figaro, lilac eyes rest upon his serene smile — they don't reach his eyes, but it makes them even more appealing. )

Leaving fate all up to me, how bold, or should I say careless...!

( his fingers grip figaro's wrist tighter just to remind him of what they're doing, and it's not too long until he raises up their hands to ease them slowly towards the gorinto. his words pull him into a sense of comfort, and it's not the idle chit-chat that they share, but the chance to sit down and be with someone — something different from those endless, quiet days of only himself and his thoughts. he would never make that known, but he continues to inch their hands closer towards the object. )

However, sitting with you and hearing what you have to say, that does sound exciting. ( he pauses, chuckling at the thought, and moments before they come into contact with it. ) Just the two of us.

( and with that said...... they are touching it... set the scene bitch. )

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wake up

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OOC

figaro garcia / mahoutsukai no yakusoku

clinic

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cleaning

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cleaning

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