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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.
no subject
( because he considers her being willing to play him anything as good luck, and it's enough to make him smile. the amount of hope that radiates off her makes him wonder what type of songs she's able to play, are they ones she thought of entirely on her own, or maybe it's some she knows by heart? while that's a thought that crosses his mind — his attention shifts to the whereabouts of the nurse. )
I didn't think that was possible, she's always here.
( he's never asked if she brought her own food from home, but it's pretty odd for her not to be here at this time. he lifts his mechanical arm, knocking prosthetic knuckles against the door as well so that she and him go back and forth in a small tune. ) Hm...
( grabbing the doorknob again, komaeda starts to twist it again to see if he can push it forward. ) Maybe... there's something around here we can use to get it open. ( a pause, as he looks back at the female. ) Do you think something happened to her? ( is he suggesting a locked room murder or... )
no subject
Kaede is a little surprised to see that he has a prosthetic arm—this guy has a lot of mystery around him. She watches as he jiggles the doorknob, wondering what they should do since the door won't budge. Is there someone else they can call?
But his suggestion knocks every other thought out of her mind. ]
Huh? You think she's in trouble...? Maybe she got sick and couldn't come in today.
no subject
I know... I shouldn't ask.
( he says this as he glances towards the bathroom down the hall, and then back to her. )
If we can obtain a roll of toilet paper and a shard of a mirror, I might be able to check what's on the other side...
( she doesn't have to go do this for him considering why would an ultimate like herself even want to? but you know, there's always another option. ) Or you can stand back and I could... push, it might be faster. ( and the only want to get a shard of mirror is to break the ones in the bathroom. )
no subject
[ That is something she could do. Maybe. Honestly, that's not something Kaede has ever tried to do.
Besides, she's a little worried that he'll break the door if he pushes on it too hard. What will they do then? ]
I guess I could go do that. How hard can it be?
no subject
( komaeda's looking at his arm, yes the metal one, as he begins to fool around with it. he hasn't done what you're thinking, but he's close to doing so as he looks in her direction. )
Do you want to borrow mine?
( he's not against it as he waits for her response, and there's a loud sound of something shattering on the other side of the door. it does catch his attention, but he doesn't seem to be worried about what that could be right now. )
no subject
[ No. She doesn't want to borrow his.
Honestly, Kaede would rather figure out some other way. Maybe she can detach one of the lids from a toilet seat and break the mirror that way—
Her thoughts get interrupted by that shattering sound. ]
What was that...?
no subject
...
( they can't see, but that's what whoever inside wants. )
They're playing with us... Jeez, it's been awhile...
( taking a step back, he stares at the door before raising a hand to his chest, volunteering himself. ) I can go, my worth isn't that important so if something happens... at least you're safe.
no subject
[ She frowns at him. Sure, it's scary that the door only opens a little and neither of them can really see inside from here, but that doesn't mean she's just going to let him go alone!! ]
Let's go together, okay? If something happens, we'll have each other's back.
[ They just met, but with how self-sacrificial this guy is, Kaede feels like he'll watch out for her. ]
no subject
You can trust me, I won't let you get hurt.
( he would never (questionable) get an ultimate into trouble (extra questionable), but he waits for her to follow his lead — ah, how wonderful it feels for an ultimate to count on him. of course, she's also willing to put herself in harm's way, but komaeda ignored that part on purpose as he presses a hand against the surface of the door. )
We can go on 1, did you want to count down for us?
no subject
Sure.
[ Kaede steels herself, trying to be ready for whatever might be behind that door. ]
Three... two... one!
no subject
(01)
now if she manages to get any of this on her then... godspeed, but komaeda's intentions were to take the fall — literally. one frog is sitting on his head, looking towards the female before hopping on over.
rabbit!
(02)
as for komaeda covered in unknown (to kaede) substance and croaks of frogs, he thinks he's saved her from this delimma unless he turns to look and see he's not the only one from head to toe...
roll for initiative. )
no subject
The mysterious mixture that pours over the both of them shocks her, so much so that she doesn't even say anything. ]
Wh-What... What is this?!
[ This is the worst prank... She hates this so much. ]
Is that a frog?
no subject
( he didn't even know frogs could live in that sort of environment... which it seems they're also covered in a few eggs and tadpoles, but that's the life they have to deal with now. )
Looks like someone left a surprise for us... But are they still inside, we heard something break...
( the frog, that's sitting on kaede's head is jumping onto the floor with a splat, kicking its legs as it tries to get away. )
no subject
A frog? Seriously?
[ There are tadpoles and eggs, sure, but a frog on her head makes it all so much worse. At least it's on the floor now... ]
We're gonna find whoever did this and teach them a lesson! Come on, let's look around.
[ She doesn't even wait for an answer before she starts to look. ]
no subject
...Huh, what are you going to do? Torture them?
( he's only joking (maybe) as he flips on the light inside, a few of the nurse's glass jars on the floor, but the room empty that shows no tracks that's someone been here aside from that. taking a step forward, he looks around trying to find another hint, or a place that someone may be hiding. )
You can check under the beds, and I'll... ( there's not much to look around at, but someone has to be here, right? ) Maybe the curtains...
no subject
[ That's going a little too far. Why is that his first thought? Even though he's joking, the very thought of it still makes her feel tense. ]
Okay. I'll see if anyone's under them...
[ There's something a little scary about bending down to check under the beds, like someone or something might jump out at her. Ugh. Kaede is really letting this creepy school get to her. ]
no subject
( oh, that's good! you know, what hope would come from torturing? he wouldn't ever think of something like that so casually, but as long as she's sure. there are other ways aside from that method to make someone talk, he thinks. he's been through various ordeals that it seems almost normal to him, but he's starting to learn that she may have a safer way of dealing with others. he laughs to him, looking behind the curtain to see if he sees anyone —
and kaede is right! under that bed, we have those invisible imps, but rather than something coming out to jump at her. instead she sees a frog floating in the air, and then it's head starts to disappear, and then it's legs — they thrash trying to get out of whatever is holding onto it — sadly, it doesn't make it. like it's being swallowed by the unknown, and it disappears just like that.
maybe this room is haunted. )
no subject
That train of thought gets disrupted when she sees exactly what's under the bed. Or, rather, what isn't. The frog appears to float, and while that's strange, that isn't what causes her to let out a shriek and back away from the bed.
No, it was that disappearing act. ]
Wh-What was that?!
no subject
( when she screams, komaeda looks over trying to see if something happened — if someone attacked her from behind. alas, even komaeda stands no chance to the curtain because that's draped over his head, and once his vision is skewed — he falls down to the floor. it's like he was playing in the curtain, but no, he's trying to pull it off his face so that he can breathe properly.
honestly, if kaede looks in his direction, whatever strange mishap that's going on with him pauses, and it just looks like he's messing around. well, at least the imps know how to make the crazy look more crazy. )
no subject
Or he's just pretending to be a ghost. She's not sure. ]
Are you trapped under that or are you just messing around?
no subject
...
( that was... a stroke of bad luck, right? ) ...I don't think you'd believe trash like me, it's hard to explain. ( but enough about him, he seems concerned about her than his own well-being. )
Are you okay?
no subject
[ She also wants to tell him not to call himself trash, but she's so focused on what she just saw that she can't really tear her mind away from it. ]
And I think I'm okay... I just saw something really weird under the bed.