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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.
Tali'Zorah | Mass Effect | open/tdm
[Tali really isn't happy to be stuck in this situation, given everything happening at home. But she's trying to adjust, even though she's way past school age, let alone not even human. Still, she's going along with the day to day, gathering information into this strange place and how this human school works.
The charity auction captures her interest, so today she finds herself browsing the display cases, before her eyes land on the dead body. She's seen a lot of horrible things in her time fighting the Reapers and Collectors, but it still makes the pit of her stomach drop.]
Keelah, what kind of place is this?
5/8
[Tali's luck would have it that she ended up close enough to the body that she was pulled into the alternate schooler.]
What...? [She's shaking her head, trying to dispel the vertigo, only to realize the school changed around her. It gave her serious Collector vibes, with everything rotten and destroyed. She didn't feel the cold in her suit, but the atmosphere made a chill run up her spine.
But then she spotted the students dragging the body, and she gasped.]
Hey! What are you-- [Before she could even get anywhere close to them, the body was thrown into the void, and she was left speechless.]
5/8 | Tali my darling... Love her so much
Kinda unsettling, isn't it? I don't think you can get these guys to stop once they've started something, though. They seem to have some sort of single-minded determination.
[It was only after addressing her that he turned his head to notice the full body suit she wore, and he couldn't stop the blatant look of surprise that settled onto his face. He was staring... Was that rude? Probably. He cleared his throat, quickly glancing away and shoving his hands into his pockets.]
<333!
I-- yes. It's very...unsettling. The person they took, were they...dead, already? [It was hard to tell, since most everyone around were shadowy forms. Even the body was dark and wispy. Not that it made it much better, if they were dead, as there was no telling what that void was doing with those bodies. People deserved more respect in death.]
no subject
[It's wasn't a comforting thing to say by any means, and the delivery in tone was bright and nonplussed given the situation. Childe turned his head, gazing into the open void for just a few seconds too long to look normal before he was sheepishly clearing his throat and giving her his full attention once more.] If it makes you feel any better about the situation, I doubt that you could have done anything to change the outcome. Doesn't seem like these guys play by the rules the same way you and I do.
no subject
It doesn't. [If only she had her pistol, maybe they would have responded to THAT, but alas, her guns are still MIA.]
I know I'm still new here but I don't like feeling so....helpless, to do anything.
no subject
[Granted, he's certain her own motivations stem from a more altruistic viewpoint than his morbid curiosity.] You seem the type to refuse to give up easily, though I apologize if I'm overstepping in that assessment. What does your gut say to do about things from here?
no subject
I'm good in a firefight, but I don't have my guns. I'm good with machines, but the tech here is hundreds of years behind anything I've worked with. Not to mention, I'm limited on spare parts to fix my suit if I run into issues. [She sighs, finally dropping her hands back to her sides.]
Has their been any resistance prior to now? Any attempts to escape or stop these things?
no subject
Tech specialist, huh? Knew a guy like that back... Before here. Studied all sorts of robots and other weapons of mass destruction. [Neglecting to mention, of course, that Dotorre fell under the category of a "Mad Scientist," and didn't necessarily shy away from human experimentation on the side. He'd never really gotten along with the guy himself, although that wasn't unique amongst the Harbingers. They just didn't understand the thrill of adrenaline like he did.] Speaking of your... Suit? Do you mind if I ask about... I mean, if it's rude to discuss, feel free to let me know, I'm just curious. Don't think I've ever seen anything like it before. [Might as well be direct and just ask.]
no subject
I don't know about weapons of mass destruction, but I'm the leading expert on the geth -- a synthetic AI my people created. [Only because she helped Shepard fight against them for so long now. She was still getting used to the idea that they weren't all bad.
Aaaaand there's the suit question. It's one she's getting a lot, and while she doesn't mind, she wished for once, someone she met actually knew about her people.] It's...complicated. My people always had a poor immune system, but the AI I mentioned, the geth, they turned on us and chased us from the homeworld and our colonies. We've been migrants since, unable to settle anywhere, only leading to our immune systems worsening. We aren't able to leave our suits now, as even the simplest infection could kill us.
5/6
( he corrects, not knowing that's... not what she was getting at, but hey, it's close enough to his name, and could be mistake-worthy so he's not going to be too hard. he's glancing towards the body she's looking at, and he taps his chin in thought as he thinks about it — he could give the same manifesto that he gave to noah, or he could go about this pretty simply. )
I guess this place looks like a morgue, huh...? ( he smiles, looking towards her now in reassurance, though... it's probably odd for someone to be happy about what's going on. i'm sorry, komaeda's insane. )
But it's a school, I wonder... if we'll become classmates.
no subject
Surely human schools aren't normally like this. [Well, there was Cerberus, and she saw what Jack's "school" was like, but that was a clear exception to the rule.]
no subject
Nope, this is perfectly normal!
( a normal student like komaeda who is also normal would be honest about this. )
If there isn't a dead body laying around, I think that's a problem... ( he pauses, thinking, and then with a small smile. ) Do you want a box too just in case?
no subject
Maybe this guy came from an outlier situation? She was still wrapping her head around the alternate world and universes that everyone here was from.]
I think I'm good. [She has no desire to have a dead body in a box, thank you very much.]
no subject
( maybe komaeda should pick their brain apart, learn to understand them, or just go with the flow like he normally does when he meets a classmate. either way, he taps his chin in thought as he watches her, she's not wrong, there are normal schools out there that isn't like this, but komaeda's grown to accustomed to the killing and the games, so maybe that's why he doesn't see anything odd about this. )
I've attended one, actually. We had a weird little bear telling us to kill one another —
( he reminisces, clapping his hands together with a nod. ) It almost feels like I'm at home when we have bodies propped up like this, but they were definitely more bloody.
no subject
Did you say a bear told you to kill each other? [She's heard the humans on the Normandy talk about bears. Obviously they weren't something she had ever seen before, but she remembers the jokes about how Shepard could take on a bear and win. Big furry thing with claws, right? Worse than varren?]
I...don't understand. Did it speak?
[She is so confused right now.]
no subject
( if they apply it to this school, no one would want to be put in a glass container if they can help it. even now, tali seems against the idea of following suit, or doing it to someone else. so that's fine, for now, but komaeda will change his mind once things get difficult. at her question, he raises a brow, and laughs. )
Yeah, Monokuma was able to speak. He'd say things like... chills, thrills, kills...! or something like that, and had an annoying laugh! I was on pretty good terms with him when he was alive.
( or should he say she, junko didn't survive whatever it was. )
He was our... headmaster on an island extravaganza, so we had to listen! He could kill us at any time, very versatile for a bear, don't you think?
no subject
brb she's trying to image a huge fuzzy brown bear teaching...school? On an island?
...
...
...
what.]
I...can't say I have any experience with bears, so I'll have to take your word for it.
no subject
( no, he won't explain, but she can figure out easily that there's something different about her compare to him, and it's not hard to come to a few conclusions. he looks like he's dying, o maybe the bear wanted a quick and easy death. ain't much to work hard on when their victim is a breath away from falling over. )
I haven't seen him here, either. There's other people to look out for, actually, if you want to survive.
no subject
That's...good, then. I mean, that your bear- teacher- thing isn't here. Not.. [Hold on. Pausing. Restarting her sentence.] Who should I be watching out for? I haven't been here long, but if there's dangerous people, I'd like to know.
no subject
You can make hope, but you lack a talent. That's all there is.
( as for who she should be watching out for... his arms cross. )
Don't you think that's upsetting? We should all be working together than turning against one another.
no subject
Of course it's upsetting, but I'm not stupid. People are selfish and cruel. They act irrationally out of fear. [She's watched it, over and over now. No one would work together and admit the Reapers were coming. They ignored Saren and Sovereign. They ignored the Collectors and Harbinger. She had a feeling everyone was going to continue to ignore the Reaper threat going forward.
There was no reason that wouldn't be the case here, especially since so many were children.]
But I think we should work together. It's our best chance at figuring this out and getting out of here.
no subject
( some people start to feel like they have more hope than they did before after a certain duration here — for him, hope equates to power which is how strong their talent is. for now, nothing comes off of her that he finds worth commenting on, and so he stares at her as if he's challenging her statement. )
Anyways.
( yes, he did! show him hope soon, or keep being upset! )
That's true, if everyone gives up on one another... they'll only suffer the consequences, and then... their will shall crumble! It's up to us to prevent that, and I'm sure as long as you join them...! ( motivating! )
no subject
Exactly. [She...thinks she actually agrees with him there?] I don't want anyone else to suffer, if I can help it.