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Entry tags:
- !event,
- 2064 rom: turing,
- dangan ronpa: hajime hinata,
- dangan ronpa: kiyotaka ishimaru,
- dangan ronpa: kokichi ouma,
- dangan ronpa: shuichi saihara,
- elsword: clamor ventus,
- elsword: noah ebalon,
- fate: sherlock holmes,
- hanako-kun: nene yashiro,
- mo dao zu shi: meng yao,
- my hero academia: shoto todoroki,
- red dead redemption: arthur morgan
May event/tdm
Golden Week (closed to current characters)
On the 28th, Aiko Okane's body is returned to the auditorium, rotten and still thawing when the first student walks in upon her and screams themselves hoarse. She is swiftly removed and the auditorium is closed for the rest of the day for deep cleaning, the smell of disinfectant lingering for days after. In honor of the late student council president, a gorinto is later set up on one of the windowsills in the art room, stones perpetually damp and causing those who touch it to experience vivid flashbacks of flashing strobe lights so bright it's nauseating, a spinning room, hands covered in soot, a shadow moving from behind a bookcase, sharp pain in the back of the head—-
The school empties out for Golden Week starting on the 29th, and just like during spring break, the faculty office and nurse's office are locked and unavailable without the staff present. The library and club rooms remain open, but what supplies there were at the start of the school week won't be replenished until the end of break two weeks later— and there are many more mouths to feed now. At least those mouths don't include two cats, both of which make themselves scarce on the morning of the 29th and cannot be found at school for the remainder of break, possibly spooked and in hiding due to the arrival of a dozen repairmen who phase through the front doors to repair the ceilings and pipes. Faces obscured with gas masks, carrying bags of plaster and lugging toolboxes, the repairmen work tirelessly from six in the morning to six in the evening over the next three days, appearing not to see the others in the school— they do not hear anything said to them, and, if somebody tries to touch them, their bodies pass through one another like the shadow students through the doors. But the school looks a lot better by the end of the three days, the ceiling tiles secure so that they're no longer in danger of falling and must be forcibly pushed through to access the crawlspace, and entire sections of pipe replaced from underneath the fourth floor bathroom and the clog with it, resulting in slightly clearer water, though still very very lightly tinged pink.
The repairmen finish and leave the evening of the 1st, and that night, the sound of hissing can be heard just before the usual midnight silence. Even through gift fairy or homemade gas masks, the air smells slightly sour, heavy and hard to breathe, a white mist seen hanging around the school and in the courtyard outside that doesn't dissipate with the sunlight the following morning. Those unprotected start to feel ill, cold and feverish, uncomfortably bloated despite empty bellies. Out of the corner of their eyes they see glimpses of the person they miss the most, but nobody is there when they turn around. Their heads fill with whispered accusations of all their shortcomings, chiding and blaming and mocking in the disembodied voices of the people dearest to them until the constant white noise finally tapers off and disappears on the fourth night, and the mist lifts with the rising sun the morning of the 6th.
Skittering can be heard in the ceiling overhead. The rats are still alive.
The school empties out for Golden Week starting on the 29th, and just like during spring break, the faculty office and nurse's office are locked and unavailable without the staff present. The library and club rooms remain open, but what supplies there were at the start of the school week won't be replenished until the end of break two weeks later— and there are many more mouths to feed now. At least those mouths don't include two cats, both of which make themselves scarce on the morning of the 29th and cannot be found at school for the remainder of break, possibly spooked and in hiding due to the arrival of a dozen repairmen who phase through the front doors to repair the ceilings and pipes. Faces obscured with gas masks, carrying bags of plaster and lugging toolboxes, the repairmen work tirelessly from six in the morning to six in the evening over the next three days, appearing not to see the others in the school— they do not hear anything said to them, and, if somebody tries to touch them, their bodies pass through one another like the shadow students through the doors. But the school looks a lot better by the end of the three days, the ceiling tiles secure so that they're no longer in danger of falling and must be forcibly pushed through to access the crawlspace, and entire sections of pipe replaced from underneath the fourth floor bathroom and the clog with it, resulting in slightly clearer water, though still very very lightly tinged pink.
The repairmen finish and leave the evening of the 1st, and that night, the sound of hissing can be heard just before the usual midnight silence. Even through gift fairy or homemade gas masks, the air smells slightly sour, heavy and hard to breathe, a white mist seen hanging around the school and in the courtyard outside that doesn't dissipate with the sunlight the following morning. Those unprotected start to feel ill, cold and feverish, uncomfortably bloated despite empty bellies. Out of the corner of their eyes they see glimpses of the person they miss the most, but nobody is there when they turn around. Their heads fill with whispered accusations of all their shortcomings, chiding and blaming and mocking in the disembodied voices of the people dearest to them until the constant white noise finally tapers off and disappears on the fourth night, and the mist lifts with the rising sun the morning of the 6th.
Skittering can be heard in the ceiling overhead. The rats are still alive.
05/06 06:00 (open to all)
You open your eyes.
Whether you're standing in the middle of the locker area or sitting up from under one of the classroom desks, the school feels a lot... brighter... than you remember in the last handful of years (years? somehow, it feels like years) that you've attended this school. Bright sunlight shining through the windows is almost nauseating to look at, as if on the cusp of a migraine, and words swim on textbook pages and is twice as difficult to understand. Maybe it's just back-to-school jitters, the nurse sympathizes if you visit the nurse's office, offering a mug of ginger tea to settle the stomach and a soft cot to lie down on for a few minutes, but break is over and there is so much to be excited for at school, especially the charity auction coming up in the next couple of days.
Donations are displayed in glass cases all around the auditorium, including items and services, a box of """cursed chalk""" that's surprisingly garnered a lot of interest, and a human body that unsurprisingly has not garnered much if at all. A skinny black cat can be seen lounging on top of the lattermost case, staring down at the students milling around the auditorium as they check their PDAs for merit points and murmur about it being too late and that they'll have to make do with what they have until the auction date on the 10th. More information about the auction can be found on the bulletin board, which also displays a new poster announcing an open seat in the student council in which all are encouraged to apply starting the 10th, and to run their campaigns until the 31st when an assembly will take place for approved candidates to debate.
Also updated on the bulletin board are the class rankings, current as of the start of the month, with class 1-B leading the pack and 2-C following close behind. With the weather as nice as it is, students of these two homerooms occasionally hold their classes outside in the courtyard this month, seated on the grass or on blankets around the wisteria tree as they balance chalkboard slates on their laps and listen to the lecture in the fresh air and warm sunlight. As long as they're with their teacher, characters in class 1-B and 2-C are able to exit into the courtyard this month, although if they stray too far out of the courtyard towards the pool area, their consciousness will start to fade until they leave the courtyard and black out completely.
For everybody regardless, there are classes to attend and quizzes to take and blood to pour out of your shoes because— uh?? You're in the middle of a quiz and pick up your eraser, but it's been replaced with one so dry and hard that all it does is smear the graphite and tear a hole in your paper. You get up from a long hour of class and nearly chip your teeth on the edge of the desk falling over because somebody's tied your ankle to the desk leg with quadruple-knotted twine. You're washing your hands in the bathroom and instead of liquid soap, the dispenser pours out silver glitter all over your hands and pants and shoes to coat for the rest of the month. You open your locker and are met with a face full of bees that burst out and causes everybody to evacuate the area until the janitor can coax them all outside. You're walking up the stairs and feel a tap on your shoulder but there's nobody when you turn around- nothing to explain the hard shove against your back or why the handrail is slicked with oil. All the while, snickering can be heard from somewhere behind you, little shadows darting away in the periphery of your vision, just out of reach.
Somebody has it out for you, but be glad it's just little things and not... well.
Whether you're standing in the middle of the locker area or sitting up from under one of the classroom desks, the school feels a lot... brighter... than you remember in the last handful of years (years? somehow, it feels like years) that you've attended this school. Bright sunlight shining through the windows is almost nauseating to look at, as if on the cusp of a migraine, and words swim on textbook pages and is twice as difficult to understand. Maybe it's just back-to-school jitters, the nurse sympathizes if you visit the nurse's office, offering a mug of ginger tea to settle the stomach and a soft cot to lie down on for a few minutes, but break is over and there is so much to be excited for at school, especially the charity auction coming up in the next couple of days.
Donations are displayed in glass cases all around the auditorium, including items and services, a box of """cursed chalk""" that's surprisingly garnered a lot of interest, and a human body that unsurprisingly has not garnered much if at all. A skinny black cat can be seen lounging on top of the lattermost case, staring down at the students milling around the auditorium as they check their PDAs for merit points and murmur about it being too late and that they'll have to make do with what they have until the auction date on the 10th. More information about the auction can be found on the bulletin board, which also displays a new poster announcing an open seat in the student council in which all are encouraged to apply starting the 10th, and to run their campaigns until the 31st when an assembly will take place for approved candidates to debate.
Also updated on the bulletin board are the class rankings, current as of the start of the month, with class 1-B leading the pack and 2-C following close behind. With the weather as nice as it is, students of these two homerooms occasionally hold their classes outside in the courtyard this month, seated on the grass or on blankets around the wisteria tree as they balance chalkboard slates on their laps and listen to the lecture in the fresh air and warm sunlight. As long as they're with their teacher, characters in class 1-B and 2-C are able to exit into the courtyard this month, although if they stray too far out of the courtyard towards the pool area, their consciousness will start to fade until they leave the courtyard and black out completely.
For everybody regardless, there are classes to attend and quizzes to take and blood to pour out of your shoes because— uh?? You're in the middle of a quiz and pick up your eraser, but it's been replaced with one so dry and hard that all it does is smear the graphite and tear a hole in your paper. You get up from a long hour of class and nearly chip your teeth on the edge of the desk falling over because somebody's tied your ankle to the desk leg with quadruple-knotted twine. You're washing your hands in the bathroom and instead of liquid soap, the dispenser pours out silver glitter all over your hands and pants and shoes to coat for the rest of the month. You open your locker and are met with a face full of bees that burst out and causes everybody to evacuate the area until the janitor can coax them all outside. You're walking up the stairs and feel a tap on your shoulder but there's nobody when you turn around- nothing to explain the hard shove against your back or why the handrail is slicked with oil. All the while, snickering can be heard from somewhere behind you, little shadows darting away in the periphery of your vision, just out of reach.
Somebody has it out for you, but be glad it's just little things and not... well.
05/08 16:27 (open to all)
After school on the 8th, when Clamor is headed up the second floor stairwell to the clocktower, he'll find that the door doesn't push in easily, as if there were something blocking it. A harder push and he dislodges something heavy, dark red blood pouring out from the open door to soak through his shoes and those of anybody nearby as the world spins and pitches and falls apart.
The vertigo passes and you open your eyes. You're standing in an old schoolhouse with scorched walls and broken floorboards that creak as you walk through the halls, breathing air so cold it constricts your lungs and leaves in visible puffs. The body on the ground has turned wispy black, unmoving, while those around you— there were other students around you in the hallway, you swear, but aside from one or two, the rest have all turned into shadow, faceless and intangible as they move silently down the halls and through the walls. Two of them approach the body on the ground and lift it up by the armpits to drag away down the stairs towards the auditorium—- what's supposed to be the auditorium, but instead the doors open to reveal a gaping void, darkness as far as one can see as if nothing else exists past this door.
You were looking for a way out, weren't you? ...
The body is unceremoniously tossed into the void, never to be seen again, and with the creeping dread that comes with staring into the darkness for too long, you get the sense that the same will happen to you if you step past the threshold to nowhere. It's dark and quiet enough already in the rest of the school, with the lights off and the sky a perpetual dusk. This school evokes the same feeling of nostalgia as it always has, the same old building but so much older: books in the library prone to falling apart in your hands, all the food in the home economics room rotten and overgrown with mold, the wisteria tree in the courtyard gnarled and completely barren. But the water in the bathrooms and drinking fountains run clear and fresh, and in the mirrors hanging above the sinks you can see somebody else's face— you can see familiar people washing their hands or chatting with one another or smoking a joint or getting caught smoking a joint- you can see them but they can't see you, gazing through this portal to a normal high school life.
The glass feels warm when you place your palm against it. The glass tears and burns when you put your fist through it, painful enough to make you wince.
You open your eyes.
You're standing where you last remember before the world turned to darkness, floor sticky with blood but there is no body at your feet. Edgar? There is no student called Edgar Valden at this school, just like there is no Abel Nightroad or Makoto Naegi, their names not showing up anywhere on the class roster and their seats filled by another student that has always been part of the class. You're overthinking, or maybe you're just tired or hungry. Luckily for you, there is a lot of fresh meat stocked in the home economics room this month, thick rich slabs that cook like beef but taste like a mix of veal and pork and hope.
The vertigo passes and you open your eyes. You're standing in an old schoolhouse with scorched walls and broken floorboards that creak as you walk through the halls, breathing air so cold it constricts your lungs and leaves in visible puffs. The body on the ground has turned wispy black, unmoving, while those around you— there were other students around you in the hallway, you swear, but aside from one or two, the rest have all turned into shadow, faceless and intangible as they move silently down the halls and through the walls. Two of them approach the body on the ground and lift it up by the armpits to drag away down the stairs towards the auditorium—- what's supposed to be the auditorium, but instead the doors open to reveal a gaping void, darkness as far as one can see as if nothing else exists past this door.
You were looking for a way out, weren't you? ...
The body is unceremoniously tossed into the void, never to be seen again, and with the creeping dread that comes with staring into the darkness for too long, you get the sense that the same will happen to you if you step past the threshold to nowhere. It's dark and quiet enough already in the rest of the school, with the lights off and the sky a perpetual dusk. This school evokes the same feeling of nostalgia as it always has, the same old building but so much older: books in the library prone to falling apart in your hands, all the food in the home economics room rotten and overgrown with mold, the wisteria tree in the courtyard gnarled and completely barren. But the water in the bathrooms and drinking fountains run clear and fresh, and in the mirrors hanging above the sinks you can see somebody else's face— you can see familiar people washing their hands or chatting with one another or smoking a joint or getting caught smoking a joint- you can see them but they can't see you, gazing through this portal to a normal high school life.
The glass feels warm when you place your palm against it. The glass tears and burns when you put your fist through it, painful enough to make you wince.
You open your eyes.
You're standing where you last remember before the world turned to darkness, floor sticky with blood but there is no body at your feet. Edgar? There is no student called Edgar Valden at this school, just like there is no Abel Nightroad or Makoto Naegi, their names not showing up anywhere on the class roster and their seats filled by another student that has always been part of the class. You're overthinking, or maybe you're just tired or hungry. Luckily for you, there is a lot of fresh meat stocked in the home economics room this month, thick rich slabs that cook like beef but taste like a mix of veal and pork and hope.
OOC
- ✽ This event log doubles as a TDM, with new characters experiencing the recurring feeling of drifting in (school life) and out (canon life) of sleep up until they "open their eyes," 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.
- ✽ A new closed prompt will go up on the 10th for auction results and body investigation, and on the 31st for the student council assembly.
- ✽ After the 8th, any blood spilled in the school will result in characters in the vicinity seeing its transformation into a dilapidated version of the same building. Nearby npcs turn into shadows, while nearby pcs are brought into the other world together. Finding a mirror and breaking it will return the character to where they originally were, as if no time had passed.
- ✽ The layout of the transformed school is exactly the same as the original, with inaccessible locations remaining inaccessible. The exception is the auditorium which has been replaced by a void, and fully stepping into the void will result in permadeath and a drop from the game. TDM characters may step into the void as their "exit" any time during the month, but if they are apped into the game, that death will not be considered canon.
- ✽ Applications are always open on a rolling basis. The player cap is currently set at 40, but will lowered to 30 in June.
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【 golden week ; dissonant whispers 】
【 may general ; at it again at yogen high 】
【 wildcard 】
sniffs, is that. WEAKNESS. careless whispers :)
( it wasn't that long ago komaeda heard the other talking to himself, haunted by the voices that plague him, and in turn — komaeda's mostly enjoying this. not his suffering, but the person that follows after him because for once, he's able to be close by them, and even horrible thing they could say feels like heaven to him. call him useless, call him horrible and say his entire existence is boring — he doesn't mind it. what he does mind, however, is the fact that someone who speaks so bold has finally opted out to laying their head down, almost as if that's his chance to ignore the rest of the world. )
Have you really given up?
( like old times, komaeda pushes a desk up to natsume's own, combining them together as he sits in the opposite chair across from him. he parrots the gesture the other has by laying on the desk as well, but komaeda's cheek rests against it as he stares at the idol. )
...Such little hope isn't a great look on you, I'm actually sort of worried if you'll make it.
im swearing
( his first is stephanie or nene, actually. he has to look good in front of them... in front of everyone, but especially them.
still, natsume opens his eyes and turns his head just enough to stare at komaeda. he is tired, leave him be-- )
I haven't given UP, but even God needs to rest. ( not that he's a god, but you know, details. ) ...Did you follow ME? How creePY.
( there is just the barest amount of bite to his words, but it's there. )
why are you swearing you made this prompt for me? our slowburn
When you rest, that's when the world strikes, Sakasaki-kun.
( so he should remain on the move, constantly without ever stopping, just move forward without without thinking of the problems around him. that's the sort of life komaeda lives actually, he's never been one to run away from them. ) I didn't follow you because you're not an Ultimate, but...
( he pauses, clearing his throat as he attempts to fan away the smoke before him. it's well deserved, he thinks. and he inhales deeply, breath hitching like he's attempting to get high off of it. )
What's it like...?
MMSJJJFJHSF id be lying if i said i hadnt hoped youd tag me for it.......
For your informaTION, I'm considered special back HOME. ( let's clear that up. ) I'm one of Yumenosaki Academy's Five Eccentrics -- students without peers outside of themSELVES. I don't know what you'd consider an UltiMATE, but I'm not an ordinary stuDENT.
( just an ordinary genius. he purses his lips at the thought, how little ingenuity means when you're pulled from your small pond, and brushes it aside. )
What's what LIKE, Komaeda-san? Because talking to you only worsens my MOOD, though you're doing wonders as a distracTION. Maybe that's your true purpose in LIFE.
( he kind of hates that he's grateful for company because then he doesn't have to focus on the YKNOWWWWW )
listen when i saw you my tail started wagging natsume kun...
( has he ever called natsume anything outside of that? he's been interested in his hope all this time, and the start may have been when the body was revealed, but that's not bad is it? he remains calm on the desk, breathing slow as he listens to natsume's explanation about his person — an eccentric, one of the five. in the end, he regards himself as a being above the other normal ones. it could almost be said that's the version of their world's ultimates, but he doesn't believe it's simple like that. )
Haha, I'm surprised... someone like me is pretty worthless, but being in the way is what I'm used to. ( hinata has said it before, everyone else around him thinks the same — komaeda doesn't care, he does what he wants. he never truly feels sorry about doing what he does, so he chuckles softly as he speaks up again. ) But, you're welcome!
( look at him, being useful. he watches natsume closely, and him being more responsive is a good thing, so that means their conversation can continue. )
Everyone I've spoken to said... the voices they hear belittle them, and make them feel like they're nothing. Say that they threw them away or left them to die. ( just negative connotation after negative. ) It's eating away at them, but... what do you mean that isn't things you've heard all your life? ( he pauses, thinking. )
Did... ( he hums, thoughtfully. ) Sora say it to you too? ... Did they slowly crush your hope, Sakasaki-kun?
AKKSKDJT
( it's the most energy natsume's shown in a minute, going so far as to sit up-- he loosens a little after a moment, propping himself up with his elbows, chin delicately held in the palm of his hand. )
It isn't like I've never heard THEM. ( he just has never heard them on a lifelong basis. we aren't touching that though watch him move right along! ) Sora... didn't say anything like THAT, and he never WOULD. We haven't spent a lot of time together lately and he's gotten loneLY. That's ALL.
( it's an easy fix, he just has to deal with school -- with this school, with yumenosaki -- and work, and unit leader duties, and upkeep on his domination of his pond, and...
there is very little time, but once it's all settled, it'll be okay. a slow, inaudible sigh. )
Is the reason you're so resistant to accepting kind words because you hear the opposite far MORE?
i promise you komaeda is being nice
:/ sounds sus
bc u never TRUST me
give me one (1) good reason nms ONE good reason
may 7th
-- Oh, you have one more than me! [just. pulling down her sleeve to show her own tally mark are they supposed to be secret she just thinks they're kinda cool.]
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How interesTING. ( he's just going to veeery casually pull her sleeve back down, his is a necessary sacrifice because his crystal ball needs something nice to sit on. ) I'm sure they have some signifiGANCE, but I'm still at a loss on that FRONT... Are you here for another forTUNE, Little Bunny?
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she nods, grinning.] And I have really good gossip.
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EnchanTING. ( both her fun fact about tally mark correlation and the gossip bit. ) I can take your payment either in adVANCE, or you can have your fortune read first -- it depends entirely on how eager you are to SHARE.
( only stephanie gets to choose, no one else gets this treatment. except maybe nene. )
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My class is allowed outside sometimes, now. Not very far. Just to the tree. [beat] Also, related to that, Hiro is back. The other kids in class said he got in trouble before break, and I hadn't seen him since then.
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Hm... And your class's rank is one of the highEST. Perhaps I should attend class more faithfully THEN, rather than relying solely on my grades to make up for my participation SCORES. ( if those kinds of allowances are what's going to come of good scores, then... ) I'm happy to hear of Hiro-kun as WELL. I wonder what sort of trouble he got inTO... Have you had the chance to ask him about IT?
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equivalent exchange!
I... guess that's only fair, but still...
[His expression is disgruntled as he gives the "wares" a once-over. Somehow, he can't help but feel like he's being swindled.
It is this moment that his stomach, unmistakably, chooses to growl. He tries not to let his face heat up too much.]
...What kinds of things would you even want? We don't really have a way to get money or anything, so...
[...but he is also really hungry, like, all the time, so. He does have to give it at least a passing thought unless the other boy is about to ask for something terrible.]
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InformaTION. About yourSELF, what you've learned HERE, about the other people here - whether you know them from your own world or if it's something you've learned by virtue of being HERE...
( ... )
Three facts per SNACK. Wouldn't you say that's FAIR?
wildcards u bc i can
It's some time before midnight, maybe an hour or two so the school isn't silent yet but it's night and all the lights are dimmed. Lucky Natsume if he's on the 1st floor for whatever reason -- maybe he was going to his locker to get something or to the vending machines, or whatever the reason is... but he hears this noise at the window as he steps into the hallway after descending the stairs.
If he looks, he can see a bunch of fingertips rapping aimlessly against the somewhat foggy glass, leaving trails behind them, though as soon as he's spotted from the other side, Shuichi's face appears too. He gets frantic when he sees Natsume and starts knocking louder, leaning in closer to the window. ]
Sakasaki-kun...? That is you, right? Um... c-can you hear me!?
[ He sounds panicked... and also kind of muffled and distant for some reason, but maybe that's just the window? Maybe. ]
crying shuichis been stuck out there for almost two weeks-
Saihara-kun...? ( ...Well, there's no doubt that it has to be him - but there's also strange shit at work here in the school. Natsume'll still go closer to the window, frowning; why does it sound like he's so far off? He'd expect a little muffling, yes, given the glass, but-
Less thinking, more acting, though he already knows it's useless to try and open the windows. They won't open, obviously!! But if Shuichi's gonna panic, Natsume's gonna remain cool-headed and try to figure out if there's anything he can do or if he gets to stand here like he's a protagonist in a horror film and he's going to see one of his schoolmates get eaten by the monster that surely prowls the school campus at night.
God he misses watching movies. ) I can hear YOU, though you're less audible than I thought you'd be considering the disTANCE. Just what are you doing out there - looking for dead bodies under the wisteria TREE?
gives him another two for good measure
It's cold, so he kind of hugs himself as he's turning back. ]
Ah... You're right. You sound really distant too.
[ That's a thing they both agree on; it doesn't feel like the kind of effect only a window would cause... but why? ]
It's not... like I wanted to get stuck out here.
[ Natsume, please. ]
Our entire class went to the yard for third period... it sounds like it's related to rankings somehow -- the list that's posted on the bulletin boards, right? As long as the teacher was there... even Stephanie-san and I could go through.
[ The problems started, uh. After that. ]
he doesn't deserve this, he's a good boy...
What's stopping you from... ( Wait. Pause. He frowns, remembering the time, and— ) The teacher isn't with YOU, so you can't pass through aGAIN.
( That's... kind of awful, but kind of funny, in that wow, sucks to be you way. )
Let me rephrase my quesTION. What happened after third periOD?
but that's exactly why it's tempting to bully him--
That's actually... ah... I can only piece it together from assumptions.
[ He closes his eyes real quick for a second because... yeah. Regrets. He doesn't wanna talk about them. ]
But based on what I do remember... It seems as if, every time I try to walk out of the courtyard, I'll lose consciousness. Like there's a limit to how far I can go. I guess... I must have done that at some point during class, and nobody noticed I was gone.
IT'S TRUUUE
fortune telling... kinda?
( maybe it's a miracle that she's left untouched by the invisible imps all over the place, or maybe it's "stolen" candy bribes. but when she sees how his desk looks, it's hard not to get upset, honestly- there's a reason it's such an effective tactic. and then there's the little bruises... just what were the imps doing? maybe it was time someone (lucifer) had a talk with them... )
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It'll simply return on the morROW, Little Lamb, so there's no point to scrubbing it aWAY. The thought is appreciated THOUGH. ( it's very nice of her. ) Such crass and weak curses won't work on a magician of my caliBRE... They'll need stronger sentiments to lay waste to ME.
( or, more plainly: words have power but he's not giving them any dominion over him. they're not pointed enough anyway. )
On the topic, THOUGH... Has anyone been giving you any trouBLE? I'll give them a few regrets if SO.
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( but it's not really luck, is it? just being able to see what no one else sees and taking advantage of it a bit. still, she accepts his answer... even if it's still upsetting. with an unwarrented care, nene takes a seat nearby, hands under her knees. )
Are you going to be okay?
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( ...he can't help it; natsume reaches over and gives her a gentle pat on the head, drawing away again just as quick. )
Thank you for your conCERN, but rest assured that I've heard worse from those jealous of ME, and those who think me a FRAUD... ( undoubtedly, too, worse from when he was a child among other children, always the most judgmental depending on how they were raised. natsume has no love for the way he was dressed in childhood either, but- ) Would you like me to teach you a spell to drive away the hurt and worry that the words of others might inspire in YOU, Little Lamb? I guarantee that the words I gift unto you are much more powerful than anyone else's ARE.
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but really, nene can only listen with big eyes and a worry that grows heavier with every word despite his reassurances. if he's experienced worse... oh god, is this how hajime-nii felt. oh no. oh nooooo. and then the offer shakes her out of that thought- )
You can do that...?
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SHE FEELS SO BAD FOR NOT SAYING SO SOONER....
SKJSJFK NENE.....
shes dummy i mean baby flkj;s
SHES TOO SWEET
SHE IS.... but also nene ur guilt is getting in the way of fortune tellings smh
smh smh...
Re: smh smh...
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i couldnt think of a cute thing rip