Entry tags:

10/02 06:12

✽ Silence lifts at six in the morning, and there is still quite a bit of time before classes start. Early risers who decide to return to school from the dorms cross the courtyard and open the double doors and—- something cold and wet drips down onto their head: old blood from the torso of a student(?) bound by rope and strung up above the doors to the courtyard, body burned black and cut in half at the waist.
The air is heavy, and the entire school smells of blood.

Hope... month...

✽ A large poster advertising the student store has been tacked up on the bulletin board. For October, store hours are now 6AM to 8PM Monday to Saturday, and noon to 4PM on Sundays. Outside of those hours, the shopkeeper is occasionally in the shop and will leave the door propped open if they are, but more often than not, the door is closed and there is no answer when knocking on the door. Laundry tokens can now be purchased at a reasonable price. The rock gacha machine is now located just outside the door so it can be played at any time. Please continue to spend your hard-eared points on plain boring normal rocks.
✽ In the dormitory, the construction paper covering the oil paintings start to soak through with blood, causing the papers to grow heavy and fall. The distorted faces in the paintings seem to be bleeding from their open wounds, the canvas wet to the touch and smelling of blood. Blood dripping down the walls and on the floor do not cause the dorms to change, nor do the splatters of blood seen on the glass over the star dormitory rooms occasionally throughout the month, as if it had rained blood in the darkness and silence of night, although no other evidence is seen elsewhere in the courtyard.
✽ The wisteria tree slowly continues to lose its petals, and the area roughly ten feet around the trunk of the tree has become completely dead and barren, leaving dry dirt underneath. Despite shedding its petals, new buds are becoming noticeable now too. The spider lilies that bloomed during the autumnal equinox remain, still covering the rest of the courtyard and extending into the forest surrounding the school. Outside, the air smells faintly metallic at all times.
✽ Occasionally throughout the month and increasing in frequency and intensity towards the end of the month, characters with 13 or more tallies will find themselves sensitive to sunlight and loud noises, prone to vertigo upon standing or turning too quickly, and suffering ice pick headaches throughout the day.
✽ Characters with 5 or less tallies will hear faint white noise during the normally silent hours of midnight to 6AM, but no other sound.
✽ The class roster on the bulletin board acknowledges class 1-D for leading the rest of the classes in rank, being the first to reach 100. All characters in first year classes and #-D classes will receive 500 merit points and will be able to exit out the front door to the school. They will be able to make it up to the front gate, but will find themselves growing lightheaded and about to pass out if they try to squeeze through the bars or climb over the gate itself. Please contact me privately if they would try to get out anyways.
✽ The void in the auditorium continues to grow, and (pending character interaction) by the end of the month will encompass the entire right wing of the first floor past the lockers, the home ec cooking room on the second floor, as well as the art club room on the third floor.

Exchange Program

✽ On October 11, students participating in the exchange program are given one pocket knife each and sent out the front doors, upon which they will find themselves in that canon location as if they had stepped out of any normal door in the area. For characters who visit their own canon's location, they will find all their friends and family alive and happy— except for the one person they are closest to, who will be absent. Nobody there will recognize your character or the person they are closest to, regarding both as complete strangers, as if neither have ever existed in the first place. But otherwise... think of it as canon good end, in contrast to elevator bad end.
✽ There is no bus to take them back to Yogen and they can stay as long as they'd like, even forever if they feel like it. If they wish to return to their real home, though, they would have to first return to Yogen and figure things out from there. The first time they open the pocket knife, they will find a piece of paper tucked between the blade and the handle reading "Use to return." If they use it on other people, that's the local law enforcement's business. In order to return to Yogen, perhaps remembering Natsume's presentation mentioning how they got there in the first place, they will have to use the knife on themselves, or otherwise die by happenstance or, eventually, old age. Two weeks after their return to school, they will find one additional tally on the inside of their wrist.
✽ In return, Yogen receives three exchange students: two familiar and one not.

OOC

✽ The first prompt leads into this month's mini-event, which is becoming a misnomer, maybe they should be called murder events instead.
✽ All students leaving on the exchange program will icly be gone for at least 10/11 - 10/17, although they will be able to return at any later date in October, at the player's discretion, regardless of how much time they experienced on their trip. Just like in the bad end elevator and the void school, nothing physical can be taken back from the exchange trip, but characters can at least drain their bank accounts eating good food and exploring town before coming back.
✽ The new exchange students are former npcs Kouji Seki and Chiaki Kudo, as well as a new student ???. They can be interacted with in their corresponding toplevels below, after 10/11.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[for custom headers or ideas.]

[the programming and robotics club officially meets on certain days, but with the proximity of things to her homeroom, she likes to drop in occasionally more than they actually convene. thus, after school one day, there she is with the door open and the laptop that she's memorized the layout of, fingers gently tapping the keys, her text to speech device softly recounts what's before her, so she doesn't get too lost, and she wants to be impressive with her independent work. a goal, something to study and try again and again.

really, at this point she has no idea if her name is on the roster or not. is there a limit to the number of clubs you can join?

in any case, the sound of keys and an artificial voice exists as a murmur in the hall, but it goes quiet after a moment...and there's the telltale frustration of anyone who's tried to create so much as a list.]

Stupid.

[the word's practically hissed out. she can't tell what's wrong, and if she goes running to Sou, he'll probably be all too happy to explain, but the point was being able to do this on her own. ugh. there's the click of her shutting the lid, and sighing in exasperation.]

[ Ranger is the type to dip in and out of things as he pleases, without any discernable rhyme or reason to it. If something interested him, he would stick his head in fora while, but likewise he would wander off the second it stopped holding his attention in favor of searching for something else to tinker or mess with. He wasn't designed to be so idle for so long, or at least not when there was no purpose behind it. But he enjoys problem solving, and there's a pleasant kind of nostalgia associated with the telltale signs of a person attempting and failing at putting something together - so often for everyone thing a person fixed, three more issues would arise

It was always funny when, upon mining the code, one could pinpoint the exact moment when somebody felt their sanity slipping - brief little messages and curses tucked away within it, notations that they forgot to remove and other such oversights.

So he glances into the room out of habit as much as anything else, blinking a couple times. He knows that look well. It's the look of a person who's too wound up to even start to piece together the issue. ]

Yeah, probably.

[ It always was, really, especially for humans (if they were, they wouldn't need computers for support.) He steps over, tilting his head and tapping the top of the laptop with his index finger. ]

Whatchya trying to do?

[she'd heard him approaching - he's not familiar enough for her to have memorized his strides, but when he speaks, she knows. Ranger is newer, and so she'd made a point to listen, to associate tones with a name, enough that she can recognize who comes near.]

I've been trying to progress on my project, but I must have missed an input somewhere...it keeps telling me there's an error when I ask it to read the last chunk. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Ranger, but would you mind looking at it?

[likely, it's some dropped parentheses or an angle bracket somewhere that's not being completed. but without someone's review, it's hard to catch it via words alone.]

At the least...I want to fix it before setting it aside today.

Eh, it's fine. Safal--... [ He shakes his head, remembering that the name needs nothing here and corrects accordingly: ] My coworker makes me fix her stupid mistakes all the time. The longer you spend trying to fix stuff like that, the harder it gets to weed out the problem.

[ Which isn't necessarily to imply that Helena's mistakes were stupid, given that she's not one of the world's greatest researchers. But even the most brilliant minds grew tired, amongst other things, and made mistakes. But a doll didn't have any of those setbacks, making it much easier to suss out mistakes. Not that it had ever kept him from berating them.

But that's harder to do with somebody who wouldn't be expected to know, especially coming from somebody who addresses him politely. It's strange, and Ranger isn't sure what to do with it. For now he leans forward, resting one arm on the table as he does so. ]

Lemme take a look.

[opening the laptop, it's still up and before her. it'll be incredibly simple in function to Ranger's eyes - grade school code, really, but she's doing her best. she's about sixty percent done, and given how much time she's been spending on it, that's a fair assessment for what should be done.

the error is buried in the most recent lines - a period where a slash should be, and thus the rest doesn't read correctly as it goes on. one misplaced symbol, and everything falls apart. her hands are folded, quietly awaiting his verdict - whatever was making her tools skip over it, she doesn't know.]

[ Ranger skims the code. It's laughably simple, and he's able to spot the error within seconds. ]

Yup, something stupid. There's your problem. Here, this should be a slash -

[ There's the clack of a couple keys as he fixes it. He reads the line off for Helena, along with a brief explanation for why it had failed. Ranger is rude and blunt at the best of times, but there's none of the condescension that one might expect. He despises people who put no in no effort, idiots who couldn't be bothered with thinking despite having the deck stacked in their favor, but he has no particular issue with an honest effort.

Those who couldn't keep up weren't useful, but it was nonetheless better than a thoughtless idiot. Trash, the lot of them. He doesn't think on that overlong, instead asking: ]

You get it now? What was keeping you from catching it before?

[she listens carefully, nodding as he explains, and thinking on how she could avoid it again. it wasn't that she hadn't heard it, it had just all started to blend together after going over the same section a few times, so there were ways around it.]

Likely I simply had this set to talk just a hair too fast. That, and it's been a bit of a long day.

[her finger taps the device Senku had made for her that first month - she doesn't know how he engineered something that translates words to speech, but he had, out of what they had in the club, and it almost never left her side now. if not attached to her PDA, it was attached to a laptop. she hits the button that she knows controls the speed of the voice. a click down for now, and that'll do.]

Thank you, though. I appreciate it.

Eh, don't mention it. If you're going over it that many times and not finding the answer, you either gotta step away or get somebody else to look. It's a waste of time to just keep spinning your wheels.

[ It's advice he'd picked up from the others over time. They had strict deadlines and productivity goals. The company had no particular use for those who were unable to meet their requirements. But all humans had their limits.

Ranger misses that now. Any sense of purpose that he had evaporated when he arrived here. He remembers, too, the handful of reasons that they let themselves be rooted from to the spot: ]

Especially if you've had a long day, you start getting sloppy. Lemme guess, looking for a distraction?

Something like that, you could say.

[before she can forget, she hits the shortcut to save the work, the device softly telling her that it's been done.]

I don't think I can make myself do more, though. I keep getting distracted from my distraction. And then missing obvious mistakes...ah, I'll have to wait until we get back together.

Tell me, Mr. Ranger, since we're already here. What do you do to distract yourself?

Me? Hmm...

[ He drums his fingers on the table, thinking on that for a few seconds. He's tried various things to distract himself. He did go to classes for the sake of it, but everything was too easy. He hadn't been intended for a high school. Reading was fine, but it could only do so much.

So... ]

Well, it's more or less just this. I was meant to support prodigies in science and technology, so y'know, I'm used to keeping way busier than this. It's pretty boring around here.

[ Aside from, you know, all the murder. That doesn't really seem like his problem though. ]

But what do you do for fun? Even if you can't do it here, there must be something you enjoy enough that you'd like to do it in your free time.

[guess who totally thinks Ranger is a human? guess who has no idea at all about his cards or anything else - she just knows his voice and his presence, and that's all she needs for the moment.]

[ Ranger blinks a few times. She's not the first one to make the mistake, and that meant his creators were successful. Even so, his inhumanity should be obvious to anyone, right? It always had been to those around him, and each time somebody here betrays his expectations it gives him a little pause. ]

Hmm... Well, messing with my partner ain't too bad! She has some pretty funny reactions. But since she ain't here...

[ He trails off, a small frown pulling at his lips. That was one more thing that he'd never concerned himself with. ]

Dunno, I never needed to! Job's always kept me busy enough that I didn't have time to think of anything else, ahaha. Maybe I should take up knitting?

You could, if you really meant that - the sewing club likely has some kind of yarn to work with. Making something is always nice

[even if it's sarcastic, the idea of doing something that would require some focus was always a good one. it's why people cooked, why they invented projects for themselves when there was nothing else.]

Though I admit that's a far cry from working in robotics...what we have here in the club is what we have, and I've heard that it's insufficient for most of the people here. It's a difficult thing, to have to fill time when you aren't used to it.

[she shrugs, but she's not bothered. so far she's managed to keep herself productive enough to avoid feeling too antsy.]

It doesn't have to be knitting specifically, but some kind of skill you know nothing about - something that'll demand a little trial and error, so you can set your own goals - it will keep your mind from turning itself over.

[ He had mostly been joking, having just suggested a well-loved cliche rather than anything that he specifically felt to be beneath him, but upon further thought it's not a terrible idea. He was the dressup doll, and he lived up to his title in that he enjoyed clothes and personalization. It was one of the things he envied about humans, who always seemed so distinct.

Ranger taps the card against his face a few times as he considers. ]

Yeah, the technology here is pretty rudimentary. The company I work for is pretty sophisticated. It's pretty high end stuff even back home. But it ain't like I've got any real projects here anyway.

[ Which isn't to say that he has none, but it was a far cry from having distinct instructions and targets. His tone becomes more thoughtful as he continues on, ]

Hmmmm... Sure, making stuff might not be so bad. It ain't like there's any other way to get stuff around here. If I'm gonna do something, it might as well be something useful.

[ Well, something that's useful for him anyway. ]

And if it makes you happy, then it'll be perfect for you. There's always something delightful in creating something with your hands, being able to hold it up and say "I created this." I don't quite know why, but it's there.

[even if she can't admire his creations in the same way, she'll support him, and be glad he tried.]

The sewing club shouldn't be too hard to find if you look - I know they have a variety of fabric. Oh, but according to everyone else, there's no red.

[ People really do seem to enjoy that. Ranger supposes it's not much different than creating code, or any other project. It was satisfying. He can't quite understand the support, but... He doesn't mind it. ]

I'll give it a shot. I think I know where the place is, just never had any reason to go in there... Hmm, no red though, huh? The art club's like that too, it's a hassle. You know what's up with that?

No, though I've heard that one of the dorm rooms is hiding all the red...it's not mine, or someone would have found it already.

[when you stay with three other people, you trust their eyes to be like your own in that space.]

Just another one of this school's mysteries, in the end. But even without red, I'm confident you'll be able to make something lovely. It might even wind up being an interesting challenge...changing your creative vision.

[ There's a small pause at that, and Ranger is briefly uncertain of how to respond. The right words are coded into him for this situation, just as they were for any other situation, but he'd never followed those guidelines.

The desk rattles for a moment as he places his hands on it and leans forward. The bottom of his boot scrapes against the floor as he pulls it back before tapping the tip of his boot against the floor with a series of small taps. ]

Hmmm... Maybe.

[ Ranger was loud and dramatic to the point of being obnoxious, but his voice lowers to something quieter now. It's far closer to the sort of tone that the average person might use when considering something for the very first time - contemplative and curious, but with a layer of disbelief tucked away underneath the surface.

Tap, tap, tap.... He manages to shake the anxiety out of it, but his voice remains unusually level, ]

Well, it's fine. Red's not really better than any color, I just like vibrant colors and patterns, stuff like that... [ There's a thoughtful little hum before he adds: ] It's the same with sounds, ain't it? Birds chirping and other nature sounds are fine, but so is the sound of rain.

[ Not that he's ever heard either of those, sans recordings and the knowledge inherent to him. ]

Edited 2021-10-29 19:17 (UTC)

Oh, yes - on a good day, I used to sit outside, and listen to everything. It's as layered as any symphony could be. Little breezes stirring leaves, birdsong near or far, insects buzzing, animals in the trees, grass rustling under your feet. Sometimes water falling over stones, and you realize why some people say brooks can laugh.

[she sounds fond, and looks it - a little wistful, holding onto the good memories in her heart. a little smile, calm.]

But you...you're probably the sort who'd love music, the brighter the better. Something with lots of brass instruments, so it could go "pah-pah, pah-pah, dah-ka-da-daaaaaaa", the sort that makes your heart beat with it.

10/02 06:12

Hope... month...

Exchange Program

OOC

october catch all.

ranger.

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hinata.

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