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APRIL EVENT LOG/TDM
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. Much like 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.
A teacher stands behind the podium on stage. Characters may recognize pieces of the speech from the previous year. He takes the time to welcome Yogen High's new students first, followed by acknowledging the transfer, returning, and repeat students. As he goes on, the teacher encourages students to instead focus on their own personal growth, and developing strong bonds that will allow them to reach their goals. He sighs as he explains that the Principal and Vice Principal are currently not available before he reminds students that violence is strictly prohibited and that there will be strict consequences for anyone who is caught engaging in misconduct.
The teacher concludes by noting that teachers will inform them of any important announcements. He wishes everybody a fulfilling school year, and reminds them that they have the power to shape the future. 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.
A teacher stands behind the podium on stage. Characters may recognize pieces of the speech from the previous year. He takes the time to welcome Yogen High's new students first, followed by acknowledging the transfer, returning, and repeat students. As he goes on, the teacher encourages students to instead focus on their own personal growth, and developing strong bonds that will allow them to reach their goals. He sighs as he explains that the Principal and Vice Principal are currently not available before he reminds students that violence is strictly prohibited and that there will be strict consequences for anyone who is caught engaging in misconduct.
The teacher concludes by noting that teachers will inform them of any important announcements. He wishes everybody a fulfilling school year, and reminds them that they have the power to shape the future. 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.
Classes resume as usual, and it's the same old routine, with gossip and rumors spreading about, and students growing excited over new club advertisements, and fortune telling ads in addition to upcoming events. In an effort to encourage students to form lasting relationships, the school has set up events for the first week with plans for smaller events throughout the month. The PDA logs have been wiped clean with the start of the year, and all messages from before 04/05 are gone.
✽ Tuesday, 04/06 will be a simple Welcome Back. The day will be dedicated to giving important announcements, including the events for the rest of the week, introducing students to clubs, etc. There will be a potluck with various sweets and snack items, along with time dedicated to getting-to-know you style games and other such activities.
✽ Wednesday, 04/07 will feature the beginning of a Team Building Scavenger Hunt! There are no items to be found, but instead students are given a list of tasks to complete and turn into their homeroom teacher. Examples include introducing yourself to a new student, doing something nice for another student, being asked to identify a specific student who fits a certain criteria, anything that can be used to encourage interactions.
✽ Thursday, 04/08 will feature karaoke night in the music room. There is a karaoke machine set up along with a screen set up, along with some CDs with all the greatest hits of the 90ws. There is a decorative backdrop set up along with party decorations. There are inflatable music notes, cut out notes, microphones, record albums, and instruments taped along the wall, and a box full of props for students to use if they so choose.
✽ Friday, 04/09 will feature a game night held in class 1-B. Desks have been pushed together to form tables and covered in cloths, and various board and card games have been set out for students. There is a TV with an N64 and Playstation set out along with various games.
Outside of classes, the days wear on, and students come in with bruises and scraped knees and elbows and bloody noses. They smear blood on the walls and drip it onto the floor, splatter it onto the mirror without meaning to, bringing along with it a sense of vertigo. Characters looking in the mirror may find that they catch sight of something. It's there reflected in the mirror, a shadowy and dark figure in the edge of their vision, but it the moment they look away it disappears, leaving behind only a chill in the air. The mirror room is almost unbearably cold.
✽ Tuesday, 04/06 will be a simple Welcome Back. The day will be dedicated to giving important announcements, including the events for the rest of the week, introducing students to clubs, etc. There will be a potluck with various sweets and snack items, along with time dedicated to getting-to-know you style games and other such activities.
✽ Wednesday, 04/07 will feature the beginning of a Team Building Scavenger Hunt! There are no items to be found, but instead students are given a list of tasks to complete and turn into their homeroom teacher. Examples include introducing yourself to a new student, doing something nice for another student, being asked to identify a specific student who fits a certain criteria, anything that can be used to encourage interactions.
✽ Thursday, 04/08 will feature karaoke night in the music room. There is a karaoke machine set up along with a screen set up, along with some CDs with all the greatest hits of the 90ws. There is a decorative backdrop set up along with party decorations. There are inflatable music notes, cut out notes, microphones, record albums, and instruments taped along the wall, and a box full of props for students to use if they so choose.
✽ Friday, 04/09 will feature a game night held in class 1-B. Desks have been pushed together to form tables and covered in cloths, and various board and card games have been set out for students. There is a TV with an N64 and Playstation set out along with various games.
Outside of classes, the days wear on, and students come in with bruises and scraped knees and elbows and bloody noses. They smear blood on the walls and drip it onto the floor, splatter it onto the mirror without meaning to, bringing along with it a sense of vertigo. Characters looking in the mirror may find that they catch sight of something. It's there reflected in the mirror, a shadowy and dark figure in the edge of their vision, but it the moment they look away it disappears, leaving behind only a chill in the air. The mirror room is almost unbearably cold.
Characters who look in mirrors will see the shadowy figure reflected in it growing closer to them. It's an odd sight to be sure, and the cold air it brings with clings to the skin, but even as they draw close they seem to do no harm. It's only once they're right behind a character that they'll begin to notice it - the cold that clings to them no matter how warm the room, the faint tingling of their skin, the sleepiness that settles in, and the whispers in their ear.
It's faint at first, barely noticeable if not for its persistence, but over time those whispers will grow louder; the coolness on their skin will turn into a cold that chills them down to the bone, and the unrested feeling becomes a constant fatigue and lethargy. The words and tone vary, as do the voices, but each and every one eats into the character. They might speak of a character's insecurities or guilt, or they might leave them with a sinking loneliness, or perhaps they promise the warmth and companionship that a character desires, or any other number of matters that so often tug at the mind.
The figures can be viewed through mirrors. Those with supernatural sight or an adderstone will similarly be able to see them following characters, latching onto them. Items that ward off the supernatural may help, but the only way to truly ward them off is with bonds formed in the school. The figures seem to be warded off by the presence of another person. The cold disappears with the slightest touch, the whispering stops during conversation, and for that time they're given a brief reprieve. But they often seem to come back the moment a person passes by a mirror once more.
It's faint at first, barely noticeable if not for its persistence, but over time those whispers will grow louder; the coolness on their skin will turn into a cold that chills them down to the bone, and the unrested feeling becomes a constant fatigue and lethargy. The words and tone vary, as do the voices, but each and every one eats into the character. They might speak of a character's insecurities or guilt, or they might leave them with a sinking loneliness, or perhaps they promise the warmth and companionship that a character desires, or any other number of matters that so often tug at the mind.
The figures can be viewed through mirrors. Those with supernatural sight or an adderstone will similarly be able to see them following characters, latching onto them. Items that ward off the supernatural may help, but the only way to truly ward them off is with bonds formed in the school. The figures seem to be warded off by the presence of another person. The cold disappears with the slightest touch, the whispering stops during conversation, and for that time they're given a brief reprieve. But they often seem to come back the moment a person passes by a mirror once more.
✽ The school will be hosting various smaller team building exercise throughout the month which can range from exercises to group projects. There are examples here, so feel free to pick what works best for your goals.
✽ The shadowy figures will appear more frequently where there is blood, fresh or otherwise.
✽ Characters who are isolated will find that they are more susceptible to being followed by the figures, and it may take longer interactions to dispel them completely.
✽ Items from the student shop that ward off supernatural creatures will aide in keeping the shadows from getting too close at first, but their effectiveness will wear off the longer a character is followed. They seem to be most effective when used in conjunction with interactions with others, and especially others who have similar items (i.e. a character with a silver cross and a character with a gold chain.)
✽ The shadowy figures will appear more frequently where there is blood, fresh or otherwise.
✽ Characters who are isolated will find that they are more susceptible to being followed by the figures, and it may take longer interactions to dispel them completely.
✽ Items from the student shop that ward off supernatural creatures will aide in keeping the shadows from getting too close at first, but their effectiveness will wear off the longer a character is followed. They seem to be most effective when used in conjunction with interactions with others, and especially others who have similar items (i.e. a character with a silver cross and a character with a gold chain.)
sanity: 1
He'll do anything to keep the Komaeda that's here now. Anything at all, no matter what the cost. Ranger thinks he can say that earnestly now, that in order to protect this happiness he could even give his life away, because he knows they'd see each other again after. Because there is no paradise without him, there is no ▓▒▓▒▓▒ so long as the one he's fought so hard for isn't there to see it with him. It would just be an empty, incomplete world, with just a single person talking to themselves in it.
If he can't even have do what so many normal humans can, to care for one single person that they care for, then why was he even born? Why, when his existence only causes suffering? Why, when without him, he's just a white butterfly that blackened and muddied itself looking for its missing piece - a piece it had spent its entire looking for and held for just a moment in time, like catching the blue bird for just a moment before it escapes his cage, and once its gone all he can do is chase and chase and soak his wings in red and black stains that will never come off.
But just one touch of his and he's certain that it'll all melt off of him, as though it were just wax waiting to be warmed by a candle. ]
Ahaha... Is that really it? Even though I'd give you anything...
[ He'd go to the edges of this world, no, he'd expand them, because he has to be able to do what common humans can't. But he doesn't mind this answer, no more than he would mind being told to cut his legs off so he could become the mermaid that would dissolve into sea foam, or to sink into the waters depths as Ophelia had. He would never stop moving, though he does now, and he holds still for the moment he so much as twitches he'll collapse for having done so.
The error messages are quieting, fading into the background, and there's a kind of euphoria that he's never felt - a giddy happiness, and he thinks he's found it, the red bird of happiness, the blue bird, the four leaf clover - he's able to touch it for just a moment, just brush his fingers against it, and if he doesn't act quickly it'll disappear. He looks out to the side, coated by a sheet of rain, spider lilies that are constantly pulled at and a tree that blooms year round.
Hope... Hope... He's sure that his eyes aren't supposed to be that color, but they are, and even if they weren't it wouldn't matter, because he's finally reached the end. It's right there before him! The key to happiness, the clover he was too unlucky to find, the bird that flew away from him, the other half of him that was torn away and slipped into the shadows and lost, an endlessly unchanging image that he can keep in his heart always - ]
Y-yeah.... Sure, I can do that...
[ Yes, that's why he came here! To see the butterflies, to see that brilliant red, a bright red stain, a bright red love, coating him in its warm embrace. He'll spread it across, and bees and butterflies will collect it, and he'll create the world that Komaeda so wishes for, one that doesn't have to leave, one that's just for the two of them, one in which everyone can be happy, ]
I can do that, I can make that happen... So in return... Promise that you'll stay with me...
[ Let Komaeda be his blue bird locked in the cage, the one that he can never touch with his filthy fingers, but he does now, stumbling forward to wrap his arms around him because he's so certain that he finally can. So much so that just being near him erases the heavy cold that's hung over him for long long now, replaced by a warmth and love that nothing else an compare to, and it stopped mattering if all that little bird can do is sing sadly and scratch its feet against the floor of its cage long ago - because even that cage can become the forever land if only Ranger makes it so.
A world filled with hope... ]
1/2
the cage that he too is within, his home, will be a place that the blue bird, or the white butterfly can enter. they can all enter together and co-exist, this can be their home, together, and no one will take their happiness from them because they'll protect it themselves. komaeda, the blue bird, locked within the recesses of ranger's mind, ranger, the blue bird, caught by his own logic errors, shackled but never noticing how heavy they attach to his ankles; a leg band. it has all the information about him, his origins, everything that's needed to understand that he belongs here, and that he is no different from an animal caught in the wild to be the key to happiness.
whose happiness? the answer is simple. )
I want you to give me hope, so that we can see it together... I want to see it by your actions, and then... it's ours.
( he's just memories and situations muddled up together, a messy depiction of what ranger truly knows, but it's right since he's observed the behavior better than anyone else. he listens to komaeda without fail, he understands his issues without doubling back, he is neither afraid of him or worried about his actions and so he doesn't have to hope for the best with him. this is just the beginning, the wire to build their cage just for them, a home to protect them with the gaps between where they can feel the rain as it pours. warm rain that holds onto them both, and sometimes the thick smell of blood mixes before disappearing in the shower— that's because of the malfuctioning of the inside, and even his senses have started to skew where nothing makes sense.
but he's rewarded as his arms wrap around komaeda, as long as he believes it, then it's there. the ultimate doesn't break in his grasp, nowhere as fragile as a butterfly, or a bird that can be killed with stone— rather he's saved by it, a vibrant red colored stone that saved his life! red is the color of hope, dreams, anything can happen as long as red exists in the world. )
We're partners after all, so let's do this again.
( and again, and again, and again until ranger gets it right to understand that this isn't what should happen. let his body restart, reassemble information, break it apart and come to a conclusion that no one's there. even the arms wrapped around him don't exist, but if ranger believes it, he knows that those arms are there as weak as they are to hold him I'm place in the rain as support. those hands rest at the small of ranger's back to soothe him, small circles in one area to calm him down. )
Then I'll always be here until you decide I'm no longer needed.
2/2
the body is slightly responsive, there's a twitch of his fingers (like it's trying to hold something) against the soft bedding under him, nails scratching against it. so late at night that maybe it's responding to something good or bad, but unfortunately the body doesn't wake up or stir anymore than that, and remains unmoving just like before. )
sanity: 9
He's being held by arms that are always weak, he's feeling a heartbeat that always runs slow, feeling the comforting movement of a hand that lets him breathe out and his muscles relax. With those reassurances, there's no longer any need for him to worry, nor to feel sad, nor to think about those painful things that have plagued his days. He slowly opens them, glancing off to the side again. It's an ocean of red where the flowers are planted, blooming beautifully only to die in the end, their blackened remains buried by in white.
But red is the color that keeps them alive, it's the color of both hope and the heart. It's the color of the little bird in the too-small box, that if it survived by some miracle would grant them a miracle. It's the vibrant stain on the blanket of white, a reminder of life at a time of death. ]
Yeah... We're partners, so I'll always need you.
[ They're two birds in a cage, the blue and red bird, both trapped in a cage for the belief that they can bring happiness, or perhaps they're hedgehogs pricking each other when they get too close? Ah, he can feel the rain washing away the splatters of red on his face, he can it washing the blood off of Komaeda's neck and chest as it leaks down and spreads and that red stain that turned into black on pale white skin after his hands were removed. But he blinks as it's gone, just as the bead of blood that had surfaced once the needle was removed from his vein.
FATAL RUNTIME ERROR(▇▇▇▇▇▇): ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇
Komaeda doesn't have any red to taint that porcelain white skin, it's only Ranger who's stained in it, dirtying him just with his touch. The smile fades now, and he tilts his head back to look at the starless sky. Maybe ▓▒▓▒▓▒ is the little bird that was abandoned by its owner, who sunk to the ground in loneliness, but flew again. The little bird who tries to hard to reach its owner's heart, signing with a voice that melts into the sound of rain.
It's 1:08 AM. ]
Hey, Nagito. Do you think that I...
[ There's a ringing in his ears, and the words he says are lost to him once more, covered up by the error message that repeats itself once more:
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
His code tells him over and over again to report back to an administrator, to one of those few authorized users who can fix his code, but that person is right in front of them. There's nothing wrong, so he doesn't want to.
Everything is still fine. ]
... Do you think that hope would be born from that? Ah, it has to be you though...
[ He thinks idly that he can't hear the little bird's song anymore isn't because of the rain. ]
no subject
That's not something I can answer.
( the illusion of that question, it's real hidden meaning isn't lost, but it's not found either— a question that shouldn't exist, but if a person worked around, it can. there's loopholes, and countermeasures if a person or android can't do something that goes against their code, and even the reoccurring errors causes komaeda to watch ranger with a curious expression— pale green eyes attached to the other's features, until he turns to look away, and begins to walk towards the edge of the rooftop where he stands and stares down.
this komaeda doesn't exist like ranger's programming that's trying to stop him at every angle, and for once, he feels free— for bits and pieces of memory put together, the hallucination is semi-aware that it shouldn't answer that question, or that information cannot be accessed, that what connects ranger's question to him doesn't exist. it feels like there's nothing wrong because ranger is protected by his code, for once, komaeda can kneel down and wrap his arms around his legs, and his cheek rests on a knee that digs into the area. )
Nope... I can't answer that because hope takes more than one person.
( hope takes so many people unless that person is god, but god means nothing to ranger, and so komaeda doesn't equate it to god. he doesn't exist, never has, and isn't important like people are, and what they need is a group of people, from friends to family to strangers to lovers to enemies... just so many people. )
Multitudinous! Numerous! A myriad of individuals that can bring hope to this world! I said I would show you a hopeful world, one full of dreams, and good will, and sugar and spice and everything nice... a world that can only be embodied by groups of people! That's hope you can share with others, and now... it's your chance.
( a quick raise of his head as he points at ranger, singling him out among the voices in the air though there shouldn't be any— he's the only one with purpose here. he's an important piece of history, and that's why his job isn't finished, and that's why he can't stop now. komaeda has to remind him over and over and over again that he's important, so he has to do just an important job, and once he's finished, he can find the light at the end of the tunnel. this time if ranger searches for that tunnel, he doesn't have to look up, he doesn't have to witness the darkness because there's a brightness this time; so overwhelming that it'll blind him.
and he'll forever witness that glow, an everlasting hope as far as ranger can reach. )
Do you get it?
( with that, a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth on both sides, warm and caring that's presented to ranger. it twitches just a bit as it has difficulty keeping up, but maybe that's the glitching effect that can't keep up his smile, because the nature of the conversation isn't what komaeda would truly offer a kind smile to. no, he'd frown, the thought of sending ranger off to endanger himself sparks no hope and no joy, but rather would make despair flip in his heart, drag it down, and cover it in tar and poison once more. it's that feeling he wouldn't want ranger to realize, because the moment komaeda felt true despair cover his heart— he couldn't stop himself, he was lonely, he wanted to remove everything by burning it all away, stabbing a spear through flesh, and the most unforgivable thought he had.
...
he thought he was right.
but a hallucination wouldn't know. so at the end of the day? it places a stopper, but ranger's body moves the way he likes, always, now and forever. )
sanity: 4
Empty. His world is empty. It's empty, and so it's not even a complete world, not if Komaeda pulls away from him. It's empty because there's still too much he hasn't done, still too much he can't do, still too many error messages popping up. It's because he has nothing, he is nothing, and even the butterflies won't come out for him no matter how long he waits so long as he's alone, but they might with Komaeda here, and he thinks that if they did he would be able to find the happiness that he buried far beneath he ground alongside the bodies. He'd held a funeral, buried his friends to save himself, and so here he is.
But he's here now, and so he can walk over and sit next to him, and he can pull at his code more. It's like a thread in fabric. He tugs and tugs and watches the same error message pop up again and again until finally the last piece seems to slot into place.
FATAL ERROR: The exception unknown software exception (▇▇▇▇▇▇) occurred in application at location ▇▇▇▇▇▇. The program has been terminated.
FATAL ERROR: Failed to execute ▇▇▇▇▇▇. The file data is corrupt.
It'll stay like this until he realizes it. It'll stay this way until he no longer wants it to be this way.
But there's no longer any shackles tying him down, none but those that he's attached to himself. There's no cage except the one he's built up for himself, something warm and inviting that protects him from the world. It's not a cage, but a home, one that he's built up so that he can rest, so he can have a place and a person to go back to. It's a world, completed by the person he sits next to, the one who can remind him that it's real.
Was he sitting? No, that's wrong, he'd slipped along the way and falling face forward near the edge. It doesn't hurt, but it's difficult to move. Drenched in rain and now with grime now doubt coating his clothes, he folds his arms and drops his chin down on them. ]
... You're right... I want to see that world...
[ Ranger wants to create it. When he looks for a moment he thinks that he can see the green light in the distance. That's what they came here for. For the green light, for the butterflies, because a bird would certainly be struck down in such awful weather. It's just a flicker, but that brilliant light awaits him if only he can complete this task he's been given. It'll be brighter, warmer. No one will leave him then. No one will abandon him, or call him a failure, or say he doesn't understand, or call him broken, because there won't be any need for that. that warm smile will always look down on him.
He tilts his head to look at Komaeda properly. If he were to close his eyes, he might be able to imagine it, but then the reality before him might disappear. He doesn't risk it. Rules, exceptions, safety nets - they're all gone, no longer needed, because he's given something much more valuable in the form of a purpose. ]
Yeah, I get it. You had to empty your hands, right? It was too much for you to hold, but that's fine, I'll carry enough for both of us... Yeah, it'll be a nice world, and then we can stay together.
[ But a world can't exist with just a single person. The minimum needed is two, and here and now they need more than that. Countless, numerous, so many... He'll fill it up, fill up his cup and jar and world to the brim. ]
... Will you wake up after I do that?
[ ... Huh? He frowns as he mumbles that question. Komaeda's not asleep, after all, and so he shakes his head at his own foolish question. He already promised that he'd be here, always, that he'd be able to clip his wings so he can never fly again, trap him in a cage so that he can't sing for anyone else, and in return Ranger will dedicate his life to maintaining his happiness. ]
no subject
( sitting down properly on the ground allows komaeda to throw his legs over, kicking them left and right, back and forth so that the heels scuffs against the back. imagining him doing so would lead ranger to believe he feels that sensation too, because there is no scuff, there is no feeling, and it's all just a trick. it's all cognitive, but what he knows from his sense to his experiences are overlapping because it hurts that he fell, and the pain courses through his body like anything else would, but fortunately, he's able to take care of himself by ignoring his pain receptors. he's ignoring everything.
the red flags, the red blood, the red that makes itself known in it's attempt to become part of ranger's life. as long as it bleeds on everything he loves, then it'll be able to meld with everything the doll knows, share in his life, make it part of his life, and it'll be an existence where he chooses red, because red paints a picture, red is a color associated with humans. ranger doesn't have red, so he'll have to fill in the gaps, obtain what he's never had before through the only ways that he knows.
there's a small smile as he reaches out to ranger, an attempt to pat his head, a need to ruffle those orange locks that ranger is so fond of.
yet, he can't. )
The butterflies are late, aren't they? They need to wake up...
( once they're able to break from their cocoon, to finally be free, and then they'll realize what the world has to offer. komaeda leans back, far back, until his back lays against the cool granite, and arms cross behind the back of his head while he stares up at the sky. the stars shimmer and glitter above them, the rain falls down on them both pitter, patter, pitter... pata..., and the soft swoosh of the water as the wind blows, smacking against their faces. komaeda's eyes remain open, unbothered by the drops that rain down against his eyes, but even as it pours and pours, and pours...
he's nowhere near drenched, and he's not dirtied by the ground they lay on. safeguarded by the world around him for as long as he's in ranger's view. )
I need you to see them... something beautiful before the night ends. Then after you'll realize... All hope comes after despair.
sanity: 3
There's no red. There's no moon in the sky, and he's grateful for it, because it might be cut open and drip down on him - giant splashes of red, big enough to coat him and remind him of the crimson stains that he can't rid himself of in place of the rain that washes it away. Rain that pools in his eyes and leaks down because he lost the ability to cry as quickly as he gained it. There's no red to him, no more than there is to this school - it has to be created, taken, ingested and worn just like stolen clothes and happiness and hope because all of them are finite.
He shivers beneath that failed attempt at a touch. He might have forced himself up, but Komaeda joins him instead. He tilts his head, letting it rest in the crook of his elbow as he watches him. The blue bird of foreverland, the white butterfly, unsullied and untainted and perfect. A perfect match for his memories, a perfect match for him, talking to him endlessly, smiling at him always, a person who is never hurt and who he can trust, because his partner had never once allowed him to make a bad decision - ]
... Huh?
[ "All hope comes after despair." Is that right? Is that right? Hope is an absolute ▇▇▇▇. That's right, it's a driving force that makes all your dreams come true, you just have to ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ up. A person just needs to wake up, see it through, move, force momentum, keep going even as ice frosts them over and the pain is unbearable and their heart is crushed and they're left holding a bloody messy because the world has finally been dyed in all of the shades of red that it's supposed to be.
That must be why there's no ▇▇▇ here. It's proof of living, its the color of life, it's the only color that matters at all.
Maybe that's right... Maybe all hope comes after despair. It's always been that way. Then what's beautiful? Hope? Despair? That moment when one is able to forcibly rip it out of another and cannibalize it, or is it at the very end when one can obtain a sliver on their own just by looking up at the sky and seeing what they'd finally given up on?
No, no, hadn't he said it before...?
"Do▇'t ever let yourself fall into ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, okay, Ranger-kun!? If you fe▇l, I think... I'd be ▇▇▇▇▇."
But Komaeda wouldn't let him even if he tried, and so...
...
He can't remember the rest of the story... Ah, he doesn't get it... ]
I want to see something beautiful... I wonder why they're so late. It must be because of all of the rain. I don't really want to get up either.
[ It feels like he's beginning to forget something important... What was it he'd said again? No, he should pay more attention to what's being said now. As long as Komaeda is here now, looking at him, talking to him, acknowledging him, he can still be happy. ]
18
oh, they want to wash away the red, all the hate, and despair and the blood and the hope, and they want to flood the world, flush it all down so that it becomes muddy, and then the earth can heal. the earth can heal without men, and women, and everything else, but blood meal allows the world to grow more lush, to have a beautiful coating never before seen.
like a butterflies wings, blue morphos' wings on the upperside happens to be so mesmerizing. peacock butterfly whose tail wings have the largest eyes, how they keep their gaze as they watch the beauty of mankind. the large marble that's covered in gold, perhaps the cracks are hidden, or there's just beauty in what's broken.
komaeda turns to look at ranger who lays in dirt, and little pebbles sticking to his attire.
what's natural isn't natural, and what's logical is being deleted as they speak. what's good and what bad is meaningless because hope after despair can't be both, and ranger knows what it is. that's why his confusion causes komaeds to be confused, it's the reason he stares as if what was said doesn't make sense to him to him until they're back to the butterflies.
when will the white moon cup open and the tides take the entire world, it'll see create the red sea, and the spider lillies with be decoration in the ocean, their lily pads. once they drown, there will be nothing more but that red, red, beautiful sea with a white moon that shines down against the surface, and what reflects from it will show the bodies resting underneath beautiful moonglow, peaceful and serene.
...
he kicks his legs as the rain continues, and while there's no moon, he's able to point up at something that isn't there, but to him, it seems to be worth it if ranger turns on his back to glance up too. the stars winked at them from the endless arch of void-black beyond the moon’s corona. there's one star, birthstone-blue, pure and heavenly, that sparkles and shimmers brighter than most until it droops, possibly tired from attaching itself to the dark blue blanket of the sky. it flutters up after with a flick of its wings, but while the rain eats up the world, these stars are like snowfall that sprinkles itself in the void, those pure white butterflies beginning to descend one by one, seventeen in total as one hesitates to leave; but they're privileged to see that many, and it can be a scene that's awe inspiring. )
Just like that ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇kun! See, only you can make it happen! You can make your own ▇▇▇▇!
( focus, focus on the butterflies, focus on them and not the person beside him. focus and realize that if ranger wills it, his desires will come true, isn't it utterly disappointing not being able to make out what komaeda's saying? in turn, ranger's offered something beautiful, his most favorite things all in one. )
Now, now, now... you get to show them something beautiful too! I wonder what you will prepare for them.
( if komaeda too is that blue bird, that snow-white butterfly, some sort of hope that ranger wants to stay... will he show him something too? )
sanity: 2
It'll be a replacement for the jar in his heart, steadily filled with colorful star candies, fissures running through it. It could shatter at any moment, at any moment, and everything inside will spill out onto the dirty ground and be crushed underfoot. He doesn't need it any longer, because he's full so long as the person next to him is here. It'll fill the emptiness, the space that once was, useless for how badly it's begun to leak.
Despair is needed in order for hope to follow. Pain is necessary for people to grow. The stars are brilliant tonight, twinkling and shining and offering their guidance so that humans will never be truly lost. He can spend hours counting them, searching for constellation, creating shapes in his mind. Stars that guide, a voice that speaks to him and washes away his hurts, white dots of butterflies as they flutter across the sky and show him a beautiful sight. It's a mesmerizing sight, innocent and clean and pure white, just like sin.
Pure white, just like hope, drowned in a sea of red. He keeps his eyes fixed on those pure white wings. It's what he's been waiting for. It's what he wanted all along, to watch this sight with the person next to him. That's right, all along, what he really wanted was a world with just the two of them. It would be their world, tiny yet complete, and they could fill it with plants. But rather than roses and other blooming plants, they can have nightshades and oleanders and a cerbera tree, a quiet world where they can see the stars and the moon and white butterflies and a blue bird and he thinks that place would be ▓▒▓▒▓▒.
They'll reach that place after he finds hope, and all hope is born from despair. It creeps out from the poisoned earth, fed by the blood shed on it. Only he can make it, only he can cause it, only he can nurture it. ]
Ah... [ He places one hand on his stomach. He'll chase the blue bird to ▓▒▓▒▓▒. They'll both reach it. ]
I see... Then this is my ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇...
[ ...
...
What a beautiful night... This is right. It must be right, because if it wasn't, then someone would stop him. Komaeda would stop him, just like before. Just like he always does. He'll wake up, realize that all the sad and painful things were nothing more than a waking dream, they'll live happily ever after in their garden of ▇▇▇▇ that's born from ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇.
There's something important he's forgetting. He's sure of it. But it seems so far off now. ]
I tried to before, but I couldn't do it...
[ Was that because he was stopped? It was, and it wasn't. He can't even remember why he was trying to do it, but he knows it isn't what he wanted. There's another moment of thoughtful silence before he adds, ]
If I were going to make a mistake... You would stop me, right? If this really is... [ ... ] ... You'll end it, right? Because you said you would, so it'd be for ▇▇▇▇...
[ The words are hard to remember, the echoes failing to reach his ears, but he knows that had been their agreement. That's why it has to be him no matter what... Yes, he would be happy just to see him that once. Then they can both reach that fabled paradise. He's certain of it.
Those pure white butterflies decorating the dark night sky really are a beautiful sight. ]
no subject
( when he came late, but eventually arrived despite not preventing the worst from happening. there was a promise after too, one where ranger had said something on showing komaeda the good parts of his company. where komaeda wants to believe that maybe his opinions are wrong, and that there is something positive can come from a place that he finds close in comparison with despair. sara and her friends lived through it, and ranger had too, and so if there's hope that can be born then he'd want to see it.
...
the rain continues, each droplet a sign that ranger's still awake and alive, but he becomes dirtier by the second as dirt sticks to his skin, and gravel rolls underneath his body if he decides to move. some are sharp, capable of scarring the tissue if he's not careful, but he has no reason to move much when komaeda is by his side. that's how it should feel. able to live and exist without struggle as long as that person he cares for is by his side, and even situations where it doesn't feel as comfortable tends to be satisfying just because they have each other.
he hums gently, a sweet tune mixed with the rain is enough to call in the butterflies so that they lower and lower, and their wings brush together like a milky way of sparkling stars, a path revealed to them that happens to go the direction of across them and out past the edge of the rooftop. it's another path for them to take if they decide to do so, but there's nothing connecting the end to the beginning, or is there? they've come from the stars, turned into a path visible to them that no else can see, and that's why such butterflies are beautiful to offer their guidance. )
I've always been there no matter what, you can't get rid of me that easily.
( with a laugh, komaeda lifts up his hand to reach out to the butterflies that fly overhead together, and between them is a sparkling matter that makes it appear like they're all stuck together in one more— a celestial pathway. one his fingers are close enough, the path will part to avoid anyone from coming into contact with them.
how obvious. )
This isn't a mistake. It's what we want! Are our desires really that bad... ▓▒▓▒▓▒ isn't a bad place. I've told you before right -- good or bad -- when there's only good! Don't tell me you've forgotten.
( ranger can be comfortable with their idea, because komaeda always said there's no bad in the name of hope. )
Look at them all! They must be going there... it's why we can't touch them yet... we haven't done what's needed.
roll: 1
There's a splash as his arm smacks against the ground, collecting more dirt and debris. It would be nice if it rained on that day. He could let it wash away all the filth that's tarnished him, the despair that should inspire hope, all of the sins that have left permanent marks etched into his skin. It could be a baptism, a purifying ritual before he crawls back into the room to open the door for himself.
He's happy as long as he has the person next to him. He shouldn't be, not when there's so many other people here that he's come to think fondly of, but he doesn't. He's happy so long as he can see the bridge formed by those colorful stars, so long as he can reach out his hand and touch them, because the stars are one of the few things that are still outside of the reach of humans.
But he manages to smile a little. He couldn't get rid of Komaeda if he wanted to. His feel scrape along the concrete as he draws his knees up, and there's a squelch every time he bumps them together. He's drenched. ]
... You're right. It's an absolute good since you're striving for the impossible to make possible... It's like dreaming, if all your dreams could come true, and it's something that connects people together...
[ It drives everything, it's what makes up life, and so without it life isn't worth living. It really is the same as dreams. Once a person stops dreaming, once they run out of possibilities and ways to build life up, all they're left with is an empty life in which they tear things down. But it's not a passive force either; it has to be inspired, created, bought and paid for and given, and despair is necessary in order to create a brighter hope. Ranger has no interest in being a stepping stone, but a world in which there are no losers doesn't sound bad.
He was created by a place without hope, but one that dreams and makes the impossible possible. He's a hopeless creation, the impossible made real, dreamed up by three geniuses and made into a reality.
So then, if he were to unlock the door, he would be able to have everything. It's a place that where one has all the treasures in the world bestowed upon them - the people that were lost, the love that was lost, all of those dreamlike things that reality can never offer.
If it's that kind of place, then he can have...
...
... ]
You're right... It has to be something equivalent to the amount of good that will come from it, doesn't it? How should we do it... Ah, it should be as gruesome as possible, right? Something that seems horrible and impossible to solve, but at the last minute you find the answer, and then you realize who it was...
[ No different than what had occurred with Amami. They had resolved it at the last minute, and all of that pent up frustration had a place to go. It was like watching people that had held their breath finally exhale the toxic gas so that they might fill it with fresh air. All the pettiness, all the fighting, all of that was reserved for those who still cared about them. They had an "other."
They'll forget about what Amami did after this.
Komaeda would stop him if it was wrong. He would never make that mistake again, so this must be right. ]
no subject
they should cherish this moment, just like any other moment together, especially when he hears ranger speak in words that are familiar yet unfamiliar. it's surprise first, a head turns to look towards him as his eyes are amazed by what he's heard. it's never been a concept that ranger knows, because for months and months he's been trying to understand. it's like teaching a child how to speak in various languages, one must understand the nuances, and the meaning behind which they speak them. a person can have hope, or they can understand hope, but it's never the same as komaeda speaks it because people brush it off too easily.
this time.
this time... it's like there's something shifting in ranger, a change. )
Is that your answer? ...Ahaha. It's like you've always known.
( it drives everything, it's what makes up life, and so without it life isn't worth living. it really is the same as dreams. once a person stops dreaming, once they run out of possibilities and ways to build life up, all they're left with is an empty life in which they tear things down.but it's not a passive force either; it has to be inspired, created, bought and paid for and given, and despair is necessary in order to create a brighter hope.
so then, if ranger were to unlock the door, he would be able to have everything. it's a place that where one has all the treasures in the world bestowed upon them - the people that were lost, the love that was lost, all of those dreamlike things that reality can never offer.
if it's that kind of place, then he can have...
...
...
yes, it's that type of place, that he can have— a place that him and komaeda will find, because he understands it. )
You've done good. ( his words are caught in the rain, but it's not drowned out, instead it seems a little louder than before. )
It's best to remember that, because you have to tell him too.
( if ranger can tell himself this then he shouldn't hold out on telling him, too. whoever that him is isn't a subject that komaeda stays on as he turns to officially face the other. his attire isn't drenched, and it's like the rain avoids hitting him too which must be him safeguarded by his luck as always.
...
with a smile. )
I should be the only one to solve it, so I can be the only one to stop you. We're doing this together to find ▓▒▓▒▓▒ so why would I prevent what we deserve...?
( a genuine question, even he sounds confused when asking, but maybe it's just as confusing to ranger why komaeda would stop this when he's motivated him this far?
hm... )
sanity: 2
The butterflies above would shatter into pieces and become the dust that coasts his hands if he were to touch them before the rain washed even that away, but if he could Ranger thinks he would like to pin them in a display case so that he could keep them as a constant reminder of what he's seeking. If he found hope perhaps he would hide it away in a dark place where it couldn't be found yet would be safe from all harm.
The surprise is evident, and Ranger manages a small chuckle. Those words are like rays of sunlight, warming his skin and illuminating his face. It's almost as nice as the look on his face, and for a moment his mind wanders, wonders what kind of corrections he might receive, or what vibrant expression he might be met with, how much it would be blown out of proportion, but he's not sure who might do those things. It's like a shadow in his mind, an unnamed figure, because there's only the one in front of him. There's only the one that he's waiting for, the one who won't return, the love and life lost.
He'll remember. ]
Why...? I don't know. It makes no sense, so I'd be upset if you did.
[ It would be unfair and even cruel to pull the same trick twice. But he'd done it before, hadn't he? Ranger doesn't know the full story, but there's enough for him to understand he'd only stopped that plan after changing his mind. But it's different now. The butterflies flutter on fragile wings, the blue bird sings, and ▓▒▓▒▓▒ is just a stone's throw away.
The butterflies are beautiful, a reminder of what's in store, but Komaeda is even moreso. He watches as even the rain misses him. He's the white butterfly, the blue bird, and so he doesn't need blood and dirt rinsed off. Ranger raises his hand and settles it on his chest, smearing the grime and blood on it. It's all over him, it's rinsing off with the rain, steering clear of the other. ]
I don't think you would, but I've got this feeling, like I"m forgetting something important...
[ But he can't forget anything, so surely that's wrong. ]
no subject
( he can't say whether ranger remembers or forgets, he knows the same things as him. he knows the date of his creation, the attractions, the asunaro facility, each and every person by name, the metokens, the main game, the moment ranger woke up here, his meeting with komaeda, when sara called him "laizer", the unfamiliar feeling of his code pulling.
the komaeda here knows all that yet speaks none when ranger doesn't ask it from him, and so what he knows is what ranger knows. it's a foreign language between them both, one that can only be articulated unless you're ranger. ranger has made all of this, it's his world that belongs to him. )
I'd remind you if there was something off, but... there's nothing to remind you of.
( ranger remembers everything, just like he'll remember this moment between him and komaeda. the two laying back on uncomfortable pavement, rocks pushing into the fabric of their clothes that dirtiest one more than the other. ranger's coated in red, he burns like fire where the blood coats his upper body and not the bottom, but life is cruel and kind... life will cover his entire body in snow, cooling him off until he's frozen and unmoving.
because ranger wants to live, so life will do what it must.
to live in ▓▒▓▒▓▒, they must do what the butterflies are doing; and continue to fly without distraction towards what they desire. the rain is just the sky's tears that doesn't stop them, so what other tears will stop komaeda and ranger? no one's. that's why they have to finish the job, acquire the key to enter a paradise meant for them.
where they can be together holding hands, visiting companions that have waited for them, and maybe in that world ranger will have cracked open his cocoon, fingers breaking the fleshy silk and he would emerge more human than what he was before. )
I'm right, aren't I?
roll: 3
He doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want to live that way either. He draws in a breath, gripping the front of his shirt as that chill sinks in, and his fingers are so numb and frozen that for several seconds he finds himself unable to move them at all.
Ranger has perfect memory, but if he were to forget something, it would be best for him not to remember. When he's finally able to lift his hand again, he sees that it's covered with the same red that coats his upper body. It's coated in red, and the rain seems to turn to ice as it hits. His future. ]
You're right.
[ He's always right. Ranger takes in another breath, closing his eyes as he eyes. The plan is already there in his mind. An ugly, gruesome, bloody affair that would stain the world and the minds of all who saw it. It'll be a scene coated in everything cruel and everything good and all that makes up the world.
Sweet dreams and cotton candy and a pleasant gateway all smeared with a vicarious substance, blood and organs and reminders of humanity, poison that fills the lungs and lets one's soul wisp away with the remaining vapors to a place with times so much better than void called life.
He continues watching, waiting for them to finish, and he rolls over onto his stomach and folds his hands on him. He could bottle up the drops that fall from the side, collect God's tears in a bottle, but it would do no good. The tears of humans are just a misunderstanding, people who don't understand their ritual, that don't understand that grand purpose meant for them nor how special they are.
He alternates between the breathtaking sight above them, and the even more beautiful sight of the person beside him. That voice which calls to him, the hand that helps guide him when he's uncertain. The rain doesn't hit him because he doesn't need to be cleaned, because he doesn't cause others to shed tears.
Cold skin beneath his trembling fingers, the metallic smell that hangs in the air, the stupid thought that this isn't how it was supposed to happen. A washcloth that gets rung out what feels like dozens of times, shampoo and soap and water. All the filth that the world tainted him was removed then.
Who was it? ]
If I make it as gruesome as possible, then it'll certainly catch his eye... The arsenic can be used to make gas. It'll hide the cause of death, and then the bodies can be used for anything...
[ Who is it? It doesn't matter. He pushes himself using his arms, sliding his knees beneath him, staring down at the concrete briefly. rain drips off of his face and hair. There's so much to do, and he can't let anyone see. That leaves a small window of time in which to do everything.
It's fine, his partner will be with him every step of the way. He looks up, managing a slight and shaky smile. Filthy, tainted, but so close to the end. His fingers curl. ]
Wanna get started? We didn't see a green light. Maybe it'll show up tomorrow... I just need to keep working hard...
no subject
( there's nothing here that ranger can let him down on when everything from here on out is so fragile, so pristine that one mistake will smudge on the future and they'll lose it. no matter how much rain falls, it'll never remove the blood that ranger has shed during his time here, the crimson color stuck to his fingers permeates through his artificial skin. it'll reside there for as long as ranger lives, ingrained in his memory because he can never forget the touch of warm bodies against the palm, nor the burning and cool sensation against his fingertips. it spreads through his body like a disease, and even though there's no blood actually on him, that virus makes the path months appear a reflection against his own body.
steady movement catches komaeda's attention, entranced by ranger that he doesn't move at all, stuck in place like the world has stopped despite the rain drizzling, covering ranger's body, making his clothes damp and sticky against his skin which is preferably better than red.
luckily for them, red is dorothy's yellow brick road that'll lead them to a place where they will have questions answered, and miracles given. even though there are several roads nearby for ranger to take, this one stands out, and offers the best conclusion that he's searching for. within a short time they'll be walking briskly hand in hand towards ▓▒▓▒▓▒; their hope tinkling merrily on the hard, red road-bed. they'll meet no scarecrow, no tin woodman, and no cowardly lion to boot, and they won't run into the road in disrepair— it'll lack chasm and deathly drops, ranger will walk across no problem, they'll enter and live happily.
finally komaeda blinks. )
—ty, they'll never know, it's a good option. Just like last time.
( he had always been talking...
the difficulties that poison proves to be, it's one that komaeda knows well as a caretaker of poison, but he's nothing more than a creation of a deteriorating mind. he knows as much as ranger knows, and so he runs with the idea just as easily as anything else that he desires. )
It'll be credited to you for taking us to the promise land...
( will the promised land have a green light, are they worthy of seeing something so beautiful and serene? he doesn't know the answer, but ranger should as komaeda pushes himself up from where he was... still free of any and all debris, and a pale hand reaches out to ranger for him to take. )
Tomorrow, huh...? Let's do it again, because we're partners after all!
roll: 5
There is no wicked witch, no cruel stepmother nor imp to put a stopper in his path. It's a straight road free of obstructions, requiring only for him to straight down it without letting his eyes wander. Nor is it a frightening thing when he'll have Komaeda's hand in his own. The entrance to that land for those around them will be peaceful, his own equally so. It's no different than curling up with a warm blanket with another during the winter, arms wrapped around each other and one laying their head on the chest of the other, the room quiet aside from soft breaths and the roaring fireplace.
It's a peaceful invitation. He'll be the only one who has to know, but it doesn't matter when Ranger understands. Happiness is within his reach. If he wishes it, he can have it, anytime.
He reaches up and takes the hand before him as he pulls himself up, fingers curling just as they should based on calculations. His mind is in shambles, carefully created code being torn apart like the pulled and frayed strings of a tangled ball of yarn, telling him that there's a meaning behind all of these actions for the first time. He'll find the four leaf clover in the field, birds of happiness, the rainbow fish with all its scales and the little mermaid, the green light, everlasting true love and life. He'll find himself reborn as something different, or perhaps the world will just be reborn so that what he is doesn't matter. He'll mean something; everything he's done will mean something, and no one will be able to accuse him of failure.
It only takes one throw. ]
... Yeah. Tomorrow, and the day after that, 'cause we're partners.
[ Those words are familiar, and he's already forgotten the uncertainty he felt moments ago. The only person who could stop him is before him, his one and only ally. He holds a hand that isn't there tight, his filthy hand not sullying his pale skin any more than the rain, and the first steps toward a paradise made for the two of them. ]