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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
—wait.]
...
[It's probably a good thing that Add said something, because now Noah is squinting and processing; Add is bleeding out some weirdly-coloured blood or something and he only barely registers that while his brain catches up to those words. If this person were a cultist, he probably would've been able to fight back, so either this is a trick or... or Noah just straight-up shadow-shanked someone innocent.
In his defense, teasing him like that was absolutely uncalled for! And as much as he's pissed off and admittedly still seeing red, there's a bigger problem at hand, and that problem is he forgot about the void. By the time he's fully aware of the consequences of his actions, he's been staring at Add for a solid thirty seconds.
So, two things. One, Noah owes him a "sorry I stabbed you" cake. Two, and perhaps more importantly, is ensuring they don't both get killed by the void ghosts and that's...
...that's going to be a whole thing, isn't it? It's fine, he's indiscriminately cut all their fucking heads off before, he'll just do that again while he's running with Add to get to a mirror. "Running with" meaning Noah literally darts over, drapes one of Add's arms over his shoulders, says in the most bitchy tone possible,]
We have to go.
[and starts gunning it, as swiftly as one can gun it with a half-dead kid draped over him anyway.]
no subject
But anyway, it's a very long and awkward thirty seconds while Add continues to bleed all over the place, his scowl gradually deepening. Really, Noah?? You can't make up your mind? Either apologize or finish him off already, this blood is ruining his clothes. Add sighs loudly, rolling his eyes and pressing a hand to his bleeding side while Noah sorts out what the hell he's doing—
at least it doesn't take much longer, because despite his previous claims to immortality he's not really feeling so invincible right now. Annoying. He puts up little resistance while Noah scoops him up.]
They must've really pissed you off to get a reaction like that. [is this a bad time for small talk? too bad. also he might be wiping the blood off his hands and onto Noah's coat, just to be a bitch.] Someone from a time period where the cult was more active, or... a personal connections to one or more cult members? I don't see how you're any less suspicious.
[as they start making their way down the hall and away from the auditorium... the shadows sure are noticing them all the sudden, huh.]
no subject
But, hmm, the guess that Noah's from a time period where — ugh, not right now, not the damn time! He owes Add answers since he literally just fucking tried to kill him, but now is almost assuredly not the time to be giving them, not when—
Not when he has to duck underneath an encroaching shadow to get Add out of the way and then sever its head immediately with a well-timed swipe of a shadowy blade, looking none too thrilled about the whole situation when the shadows start to converge. Motherfucker. It's too difficult to move properly like this with Add draped over him like a sandbag...]
I'll tell you when we're out of here, but we have to go.
[Noah makes the executive decision to stop for a half-second, readjusting so that Add is now piggybacking on him. With his arms holding onto Add's legs so that he doesn't, you know, drop him (as much as Noah sort of wants to), he takes off sprinting down the hall. This arrangement works a lot better for him; he's able to mostly weave in and out of the ghostly figures without an issue, though there are moments where he stumbles and has to backtrack to kite them away from where he's trying to get to, and more where the both of them are nearly overwhelmed shortly before bursts of shadow cut them down.
This... is somehow worse than the first time he came here, maybe because his necessary heroics are the consequences of him being an impulsive dipshit; because now he's got Add on his back and he's trying desperately to ensure they're not attacked from behind and that Add isn't about to be dragged off, never to return. He doesn't weigh that much — Noah has lifted heavier things — but boy does Add feel like he weighs tons the longer this goes on.
He's tired. He's grumpy (he's always grumpy). He's yet again in a situation that his own bullshit has gotten him into, and despite Moriarty telling him that if he doesn't fight the void it won't hurt him, he yet again has reason to spear shadows with more shadows. He really cannot afford to fuck this up. After all, the Moonstone rattling around in his coat pocket won't let him save Add. But by some miracle, after what feels like an eternity, they make it to a mirror, where Noah is very swift to explain,]
Break it — it'll get you out of here.
[He waits until Add gets out, naturally, before following after... where he sort of just decides he needs a nap and slumps over, sitting on the floor, head in his hands. Every time those stupid ghosts touch him, it leaves him feeling lightheaded.
Yet another day of the consequences of his actions survived. Honestly, despite going out of his way to drag this not-cultist out of there, Noah hopes he got jostled the fuck around while they (he) was running for their lives.]
no subject
Interesting. It must be... similar to the bodies... [the ones they've been throwing into the void, he means. Do the shadows only target those that are too weak to fight back? Or is it another factor he hasn't considered yet, that would make them target the dead and near-dying?
Something to look into at a later time, perhaps. He wraps his arms around Noah's neck, trying not to strangle him like a good passenger as he's re-positioned for optimal running speeds. Surprisingly, he does fall quiet this time around instead of continuing to mumble about the nonsense on his mind. Maybe it's because Noah's reckless heroics remind him of a certain group he used to know... or maybe it's the blood loss. Either way, he's quiet as they rush past the growing crowds of shadows, towards the nearest bathroom where the mirrors show a normal school and not the dark and dilapidated mess they're currently in.
Add scoffs,] I know how the mirrors work. [because these are his priorities and he can't have Noah thinking he doesn't know how this shit works]
... You owe me now, so I'll accept a full explanation as payment. Or... maybe you'd prefer that I stab you back instead? Kukukuku...
[and that's the fun note he leaves on... well, after he breaks the damn glass, anyway, and with his poor upper body strength he might need a little help with that. but it's fine since Nao taught us that it still counts as long as it's his hand smashing into the glass.
In an instant, they're back in the normal school again—in some random hallway after class, let's say, because Add just happened to cut himself on something and thought it'd be a fine idea to hop straight into voidschool from there. Noah just got pulled in because that's what his luck is like.
Anyway, turns out that getting stabbed straight through the abdomen still hurts even if the wound is gone, so Add is going to crash into the nearby lockers a little and hold onto that spot like he's still dying. Even time sickness isn't usually this bad, wow. He does spot Noah in the process, though he's not going over to him just yet. He's more concerned with checking himself for injuries and making sure he doesn't bleed all over the floor again.]
no subject
At least injuries don't carry from out of the void? Haha... oops.]
I know I owe you now, [Noah decides to answer that, you know, after they're out of moral peril in the best way possible: screaming it across the hallway instead of just talking like a person.] so... uh, whenever you're ready...
[Noah absolutely waits for Add to approach first, or if Add's not approaching first, Noah's going to shout across the hallway and if anyone else is nearby to hear the tragic backstory, good for them!]
S...so, [ugh,] Henir's Order... ugh, where do I even start with this...
[From the beginning, maybe? Or not, because Noah actually just settles on (knowing full well he's either going to be questioned further or ignored entirely),]
The Order assassinated my brother, Harque Ebalon, [and he's just going to assume Add knows the name like everyone else knows the name of the guy who caused the El Explosion,] and assumed his identity, for starters — which is why I stabbed you after you started making jokes.
no subject
Wouldn't it be funny if he just sat his ass down at the other end of the hallway and forced Noah to shout his trauma for all the school to hear........... ok but no, not really, he does decide to close the gap between them somewhat before sitting himself across from where Noah is. He lets the other boy get right to it, though he doesn't appear to be listening at all is instead staring at the tiny cut that's still on his finger. He lets another drop of discoloured blood ooze out, dripping down his finger and towards his wrist.
there's just long enough of an awkward pause for Noah to wonder if Add actually is just ignoring him, then]
Ebalon... so a relative of the Moon Master. [he doesn't know Harque, but the implication that the Ebalon family may have been infiltrated by Henir's Order is certainly a piece of information that a certain group would appreciate... but that's no longer any of his business.] Likely from a pre-El Explosion time period, if the Ebalon family is still around. If they had already been infiltrated by the Order... I wouldn't be surprised if that was the cause all along, kukuku...
And what does a little brat like you plan to do about it, hm? I'll admit your magic bested me, but only because I'm under a handicap here... those who surrender themselves to the void's power wouldn't even feel a tiny poke like that.
no subject
...hm. Maybe Add, weird as he is, might know something about this place. It must be an illusion, right? Does he know? Noah will get to that in a second.]
I'm working on it... and, what I plan to do is take revenge on them for my brother and... [Clamor.] And someone else dear to me.
[And like, literally beyond that, Noah has no idea. How is he going to find Dantalion? Shrug. He'll just ignore all of those other comments, like how Add had ignored him earlier, because Noah is petty (or he wants to think he is anyway). Add clearly already knows the answer anyway.]
I'm not saying sorry for stabbing you. But I think you got caught in the Order's [he flips his wrist, gesturing at the school around them,] illusion as well.
[WAKE UP ADD YOU'RE IN A VERY WEIRDLY REALISTIC ILLUSION.]
no subject
But it's the second part about the, ah, "Order's illusion" that he can't just let slide. Add pauses, staring in confusion for several seconds before cracking an arrogant grin.]
Don't tell me... you seriously think this has anything to do with Henir's Order? Have you even met a real Order member before? Never mind that we're so far out of Elrios right now that Henir's space is unreachable, what part of all this seems like the Order's M.O. to you?
[haha what kind of idiot would say this is an illusion anyway, probably some dumb wizard who put all his skill points into crafting...]
no subject
[He sounds so incredulous when he responds because, c'mon dude, of course he has!]
Her name was Titania, from the Landar family. She'd turned a bunch of people into Henir mutants and trapped me in an illusion... not quite as detailed as this, but definitely incredibly realistic. And— and there was someone here corrupted by Henir. His name was Ain, but I don't know where he went...
[Basically, what Noah's trying to say is this totally checks out as the Order's M.O. and also he knows what he's talking about because Clamor said it and everything Clamor says must be true. Duh.
What Noah isn't saying is that he knows this is outside of Elrios because there's no other explanation for the other people that are clearly Not From Elrios here, which begs the question of how the Order learnt to traverse planes and yeet everyone into an illusion that—
—hm. Maybe this really does have nothing to do with the Order?
...but also there's a cult here too so fuck those guys.]
no subject
(does she know? if there was some way for him to tell her... no, that would be a bad idea. if they knew he was alive, they'd come looking for him, and...)]
... Ain comes and goes as he pleases. He probably... got bored of this place. [and presumably left the same way Add could have, plunging down into the void or maybe falling through some other crack... but Add still has his curiosity, and an infinite supply of time. He's not interested in leaving just yet.] It's unusual, that both of us would end up here... even more unusual that my movements have been restricted. This dimension's properties are surprisingly resilient.
But you're still wrong. Even if this is an illusion, why would that mean it's related to the Order? Because you met an Order member that used illusions? Ridiculous. By that logic, because this place calls itself a school then all the schools of the world must also be illusions of the same type.
Try using your brain for once, if that head of yours isn't completely empty. What would Henir's Order hope to accomplish with this set-up? Their goal is to attain infinite power and knowledge from Henir, not to trap people in illusions. If they wanted living sacrifices, they'd just take them by force. Also, if you're an enemy of the cult and they were able to capture you, why not just kill you? Why capture entities of the void only to place them in the same illusion as ordinary humans? It makes no sense.