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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.
I'M SO GLAD... even though I'm so sorry for what's about to happen in this tag
More food and stuff... for us...?
[There's a beat, then two, as the horror of those words really sets in. He doesn't respond to what Hyde says after. Can't.
And then his face floods with anger.]
Get off of me.
[Hinata knocks his arm away - or tries to, at least, unless Hyde does something to prevent it.]
You... How could you... [Hinata's voice is raw, only a step above a growl.] To talk about someone so flippantly when they could be dead, especially someone who was a friend to us... How dare you!
pls dont apOLOGIZE HINATA IS IN THE RIGHT
Listen, if they're my friend they wouldn't be dead. So honestly, its their loss and not our - or well. [ Hyde lets out a guttural laugh, feeling free to say and be how he would like. ] Not my problem.
I FEEL BAD BECAUSE I LOVE HYDE BUT U RIGHT... HINATA'S RIGHT...
[Hinata jerks back from the blood that splashes onto his face. He should be grateful, probably - with his teeth gritted, bared, he's lucky it didn't get in his mouth.
But the open hostility never leaves his face, not even as he reaches up to wipe it away with the back of his wrist.]
If you have that attitude, it's a wonder you have any friends at all. But... Naegi was my friend. [Hinata doesn't even know if he has the right to call him that, but the feeling in his heart is too strong to ignore.] He was a friend to other people, too... So if you don't have any respect in you, then keep your Goddamn mouth shut!
[His words are sharp as they hang in the air between them, the only swords Hinata has.]
SDFSHJD cant believe hyde might get 2 fist hinata b4 komaeda bye
And if I dont shut the fuck up about your dead friend who couldn't do shit but lay his blood all over the damn floor for us to trip over - the fuck . . . YOU, gunna do about it? Priss about? Get angry? How about it - hes dead and good riddance frankly. One less annoyance upon this world, maybe you can next? With how loud and obnoxious ya are.
[ Hyde has no weapon, not on this world. However, he is not against starting a fight with his fists. It might even end up with him having a bloody nose - the idea of it sounded hot. Bloody? Broken? Beat up? The kind of lifestyle he's about.]
SHEEP I'M FREAKING CRYING
[Hinata's body is moving before he has a chance to give it permission.
In a motion he didn't know he was fast enough to perform, he's in front of Hyde and gripping his collar.]
We don't even know if he's dead-
[Hinata can feel his free hand balling into a fist, trembling.]
-and yet you're sitting around running your mouth when you haven't even been here, like you have any right to say any of this bullshit-
[The other hand is raised.
But he sees her in his mind.
Not Nanami. Not really. This time, he knows she's not real.
But the weight of her hairclip is real. The expression he can imagine she'd make is real enough.
"Hinata-kun..."
Sad. Upset. Disappointed.
He... can't do this.
Hinata pulls in the deepest breath he can - then shoves Hyde back, but not as hard as when he'd knocked his arm away.]
...You aren't worth getting angry at. That's... not what Naegi wants, or anybody else. [The set of his face is hard as he steps back.] I saw enough death before I got here. I don't intend to die, or to kill. Do whatever the hell you want, but keep me out of it.
YOU CAME FOR MY FEELINGS FROM THIS REPLY HOW DARE U
Ya a presumptuous twat to think I don't know what this hell ain't like. Talkin' like ya got friendship is magic on the mind??? Fuck off with that sap crap.
[ His statement is thick with a drawl of interest, the sharp look Hyde gives the other is one of an invoked knowing interesting. The shove back gets him dancing, he wiggles as if he were shaking off the good feelings of chills. Hyde noted, with conscious thought that Hinata held want to end him - in some way. It was the most 'natural' guise of human nature, but what interested Hyde the most. Had been the potential rationale behind it - it meant. Deep down, they were both people holding themselves back from things they knew they can do. Yet guilted into not wanting to do them - A laugh. ]
haHAHAHha - Nah, it's a bit too late for that. Not in this place, if you really think you can get away with do and dont die - hell or not kill. You really are blind then - come on. I know deep down its easier to get rid of shit in your way, and you KNOW now. Im just gunna keep pissin' ya off every day I see ya.
I had to use it as my catalyst to summon your Nanami
[His hand is still curled into a fist, held low and in front of him - but not to throw. Just to give himself something to hold onto. To brace himself, so he doesn't lose sight of what's important.]
I don't want to kill anyone. Not even you, not even if you deserve it. I'd rather die. And if there really is a piece of me like that, that wants to kill... I'll fight it with everything I have. Down to my last breath, if that's what it takes.
[He doesn't want to die again. Not after what happened before, if those memories are real... But if that's what it takes, so be it.]
So if you're going to be an even bigger asshole than you already are, go ahead and follow me - if nothing else, I'll do it just to spite you!