A knot form in Kyoichi's stomach. Of course they'd ask something like this of them. It wasn't enough to force them to kill each other, they had to layer an extra petty fuck-you over the top of it. He struggled with getting the lines down on the page. His hands were trembling so intensely it left the characters uneven and close to illegible, a far cry from his normally-neat penmanship. The Program hadn't even properly started and he was already coming unglued, losing little things of himself he'd taken for granted.
He wished they'd just let them out already. Wasting their time like this was merely a pitifully brief stay of execution, and that was no mercy at all; it was just drawing out the awful anticipation of it. It'd be kinder to just dump them out on the island to die.
START GAME
Interactive Prologue—please read the rules before replying!
Moderator: BRAU2 Director
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almostinhuman
- Posts: 647
- Joined: Sun Jul 12, 2020 7:06 pm
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Carrion Queen
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 6:35 am
Yoshimi did not write what she was told to.
She scribbled deliberately, looking up every now and then.
Yoshimi knew that it was contraband, but she listened to illegal music. It was the one delinquent activity she hadn't given up for Yoji since they started dating, and he seemed permissive of it compared to things like stealing and... the other things she used to do. She wrote a little faster than some of her peers.
Yoshimi smirked, folding the note into the shape of a paper airplane. She looked up and waited until Sakamochi and the guards weren't looking directly at her. There was a noise from somewhere in the room that pulled their attention. That was her chance.
She closed one eye, stuck out her tongue, and let it fly with a deliberate flick of the wrist.
The paper airplane nearly made it, but not quite. It crashed into the desk of Yuichiro just one desk ahead of the intended recipient. Her face turned fully red. She silently cursed and looked forward again, but kept her eyes swiveling to Yuichiro.
She scribbled deliberately, looking up every now and then.
Yoshimi knew that it was contraband, but she listened to illegal music. It was the one delinquent activity she hadn't given up for Yoji since they started dating, and he seemed permissive of it compared to things like stealing and... the other things she used to do. She wrote a little faster than some of her peers.
Yoshimi smirked, folding the note into the shape of a paper airplane. She looked up and waited until Sakamochi and the guards weren't looking directly at her. There was a noise from somewhere in the room that pulled their attention. That was her chance.
She closed one eye, stuck out her tongue, and let it fly with a deliberate flick of the wrist.
The paper airplane nearly made it, but not quite. It crashed into the desk of Yuichiro just one desk ahead of the intended recipient. Her face turned fully red. She silently cursed and looked forward again, but kept her eyes swiveling to Yuichiro.
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DerArknight
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Feb 18, 2021 9:47 pm
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Keita wasn't there, so he couldn't write anything.
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AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Megumi wished she had the bravery Yuichiro had. To agree and say that none of them would kill each other. But she saw it coming. That it would be meaningless, in the end. She wanted it to really do something, but she knew if it did do anything, it would be for the worst.
And that's why she wrote what Sakamochi told them to write. They had killed Mr. Hayashida for trying to talk with them. To get them to leave with their lives. She had heard something that sounded painful, while she was on the floor. A grunt after the thump of something hitting a person. They arrested people for the music they liked for goodness' sake! What would happen if she didn't write down the words Sakamochi wanted her to write? Would Megumi be slapped? Hit with the butt of a gun? Hell, would she be shot?! The terrible possibilities were endless and her own imagination wasn't helping things.
So she wrote it down.
A few tears landed on the paper, smudging the writing somewhat. Megumi didn't try to correct anything.
And that's why she wrote what Sakamochi told them to write. They had killed Mr. Hayashida for trying to talk with them. To get them to leave with their lives. She had heard something that sounded painful, while she was on the floor. A grunt after the thump of something hitting a person. They arrested people for the music they liked for goodness' sake! What would happen if she didn't write down the words Sakamochi wanted her to write? Would Megumi be slapped? Hit with the butt of a gun? Hell, would she be shot?! The terrible possibilities were endless and her own imagination wasn't helping things.
So she wrote it down.
We will kill each other. We will kill each other. We will kill each other.
If I don't kill, I will be killed. If I don't kill, I will be killed. If I don't kill, I will be killed.
If I don't kill, I will be killed. If I don't kill, I will be killed. If I don't kill, I will be killed.
A few tears landed on the paper, smudging the writing somewhat. Megumi didn't try to correct anything.
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carduinal-cyn
- Posts: 324
- Joined: Sun Oct 11, 2020 5:56 pm
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
私たちは互いを殺す
私たちは互いを殺す
私たちは互いを殺す
私は殺さなければ、殺される
私は殺さなければ、殺される
私は殺さなければ、殺される
It all happened so fast.
One moment, Sho was getting his bearings; the next, the room was abuzz with talk of Programs and suicides and death. Despite his best efforts, no one could convince him this was all a terrible nightmare. Two seats to his left, Shuya Nanahara's face had contorted in ugliness and rage. You couldn't fake a look like that. And you especially couldn't fake Mitsuru's panicked reaction: nothing Shiroiwa High School could dish out rattled the Kiriyama family, especially not him. For a man like that to lose his cool... A black pit yawned open in Sho's stomach, and his eyes darted around the room along with his thoughts.
Mitsuru was as trustworthy as they came, Sho decided. Not many people would defy an arm of the government like that, but the Kiriyama family's pride and joy proved that rare exception. And then there was Shuya, the eternal rebel, with the easygoing nature and the handsome face that had so many girls pining for him. They were the Dependable. Simple men, with simple aspirations. Not the type to turn on anyone when the chips were down. Ryuhei and Hiroshi were too hotheaded, not reliable enough.
Then there was Kazuo.
At the best of times, Kazuo Kiriyama was the eye of the storm, always eerily calm. Always smarter, fiercer, faster, stronger than those mere mortals he kept at his beck and call. Nothing Sakamochi said even seemed to faze him. Not the death of their teacher. Not the wave of terror washing over every other student. Not even the way Mitsuru and Shuya seemed to... no, that was just Sho's imagination. Kazuo was probably straight—unless he was so much better than everybody else that love could never touch his heart of diamond stone. In the Program, Sho feared, someone so calm, so cold, so superior would crush them all like insects.
Survival of the fittest. That's what this game was. And Kazuo Kiriyama, the ultimate life-form, would naturally reign supreme.
私たちは互いを殺す
私たちは互いを殺す
私は殺さなければ、殺される
私は殺さなければ、殺される
私は殺さなければ、殺される
It all happened so fast.
One moment, Sho was getting his bearings; the next, the room was abuzz with talk of Programs and suicides and death. Despite his best efforts, no one could convince him this was all a terrible nightmare. Two seats to his left, Shuya Nanahara's face had contorted in ugliness and rage. You couldn't fake a look like that. And you especially couldn't fake Mitsuru's panicked reaction: nothing Shiroiwa High School could dish out rattled the Kiriyama family, especially not him. For a man like that to lose his cool... A black pit yawned open in Sho's stomach, and his eyes darted around the room along with his thoughts.
Mitsuru was as trustworthy as they came, Sho decided. Not many people would defy an arm of the government like that, but the Kiriyama family's pride and joy proved that rare exception. And then there was Shuya, the eternal rebel, with the easygoing nature and the handsome face that had so many girls pining for him. They were the Dependable. Simple men, with simple aspirations. Not the type to turn on anyone when the chips were down. Ryuhei and Hiroshi were too hotheaded, not reliable enough.
Then there was Kazuo.
At the best of times, Kazuo Kiriyama was the eye of the storm, always eerily calm. Always smarter, fiercer, faster, stronger than those mere mortals he kept at his beck and call. Nothing Sakamochi said even seemed to faze him. Not the death of their teacher. Not the wave of terror washing over every other student. Not even the way Mitsuru and Shuya seemed to... no, that was just Sho's imagination. Kazuo was probably straight—unless he was so much better than everybody else that love could never touch his heart of diamond stone. In the Program, Sho feared, someone so calm, so cold, so superior would crush them all like insects.
Survival of the fittest. That's what this game was. And Kazuo Kiriyama, the ultimate life-form, would naturally reign supreme.
It is, first of all, absolutely their place to question the wisdom of the government.
It was her place to ask them why they think her life was disposable.
It was her place to ask why she was an experiment to them and not a person.
It was her place to ask them why they wanted to see her blood on the floor.
With small, loopy handwriting, she wrote:
ファーストクラス期間
林田さん
私たちはお互いを殺します
私たちはお互いを殺します
私たちはお互いを殺します
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
－谷沢 はるか
あなたがこのサーを読んでいるなら、自分自身をファックして、自分自身を殺してください ♡
It was her place to ask them why they think her life was disposable.
It was her place to ask why she was an experiment to them and not a person.
It was her place to ask them why they wanted to see her blood on the floor.
With small, loopy handwriting, she wrote:
ファーストクラス期間
林田さん
私たちはお互いを殺します
私たちはお互いを殺します
私たちはお互いを殺します
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
私が殺さなければ、私は殺されます
－谷沢 はるか
あなたがこのサーを読んでいるなら、自分自身をファックして、自分自身を殺してください ♡
Kazuo Kiriyama had watched all the occurrences in the classroom. When Mitsuru looked over at him, he looked back, face unchanged, eyes giving nothing away.
Then when requested he dutifully wrote out the lines Sakamochi provided.
He was silent the entire time.
Then when requested he dutifully wrote out the lines Sakamochi provided.
He was silent the entire time.
Shogo slammed the pen down. He watched Sakamochi and the jarheads like a hawk, and when it was safe to do so he carefully tore out a section of his paper.
Mayumi listened and waited as others spoke. When Mr. Sakamochi told them to all write the phrases down, Mayumi didn't hesitate to unclasp her hands and begin to write. She had to flex her palms a bit to get the blood flowing back. There was an impression of a fingernail near her thumb.
She grabbed her pen and wrote slowly. All those calligraphy classes she took in middle school were coming into play here. She had to drop the class because her mother wanted her to take English tutoring instead. Still, it made her handwriting much nicer, so Mayumi was a little pleased to have taken it.
Granted, her writing was a bit sloppy and shaky this time. She tried to write slowly in order to at least be legible. If these people could kill Mr. Hayashida for protesting, they could easily kill her for messing up a character.
She grabbed her pen and wrote slowly. All those calligraphy classes she took in middle school were coming into play here. She had to drop the class because her mother wanted her to take English tutoring instead. Still, it made her handwriting much nicer, so Mayumi was a little pleased to have taken it.
Granted, her writing was a bit sloppy and shaky this time. She tried to write slowly in order to at least be legible. If these people could kill Mr. Hayashida for protesting, they could easily kill her for messing up a character.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Shinji's uncle had taught him that there was a time and a place for resistance. If you took the first shot, you might deny yourself better, later opportunities. Shinji was pretty good at basketball, starting shooting guard for a reason and all that, and part of what made him good was a knack for knowing when a better opening was right around the corner. He didn't settle.
Being defiant here and now wouldn't get him anything except a brief moment of satisfaction. Maybe that was what this exercise was for to begin with, to figure out who would be trouble. A lot of the class would probably fall for that (isn't that right, Shu?), but not Shinji. If you were going to pull something, it was best if nobody saw it coming.
So Shinji wrote on the paper with quick, shaky strokes. The characters were lopsided and sloppy, and not in the nonchalant way where it was clear he just didn't care that much. He scratched out half of his second line. It was just a mess.
He frowned at the paper, folded it in half, creased it, tore it. The half with the scratched-out line, he crumpled into a ball and stuck back in the desk. On the remaining half, he wrote the words he was supposed to write, more legibly this time.
He scooted the paper away from himself, and let his hands drift to his lap. On the way, he palmed the little wad of paper from his first attempt at writing, and transferred it to his pocket.
Part of finding an opening was making one, stacking up all the little advantages you could until they amounted to something.
Being defiant here and now wouldn't get him anything except a brief moment of satisfaction. Maybe that was what this exercise was for to begin with, to figure out who would be trouble. A lot of the class would probably fall for that (isn't that right, Shu?), but not Shinji. If you were going to pull something, it was best if nobody saw it coming.
So Shinji wrote on the paper with quick, shaky strokes. The characters were lopsided and sloppy, and not in the nonchalant way where it was clear he just didn't care that much. He scratched out half of his second line. It was just a mess.
He frowned at the paper, folded it in half, creased it, tore it. The half with the scratched-out line, he crumpled into a ball and stuck back in the desk. On the remaining half, he wrote the words he was supposed to write, more legibly this time.
He scooted the paper away from himself, and let his hands drift to his lap. On the way, he palmed the little wad of paper from his first attempt at writing, and transferred it to his pocket.
Part of finding an opening was making one, stacking up all the little advantages you could until they amounted to something.
Mitsuko just watched. She watched as Nanahara got up and sat back down. She watched as Hirono sat down under influence from one of Sakamochi's "friends." She received a piece of paper and was told to write that she would kill her classmates, which was ... fair enough.
We will kill each other.
They had her by the proverbial balls, and there was nothing she could really do. She sure as shit didn't want to die, and if she had to go through a couple people just to live, well, she could live with it.
We will kill each other.
Because her life was worth more than her dignity. So she would learn to live with it.
We will kill each other.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
Because she could live with it.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
She. Could. Live with it.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
Plop
Three seats to her left, a paper airplane landed by Takiguchi's deak. Some motherfucker was about to get their ass whipped. She just looked ahead to Sakamochi.
Sakamochi-sensei, go suck your mom's dick.
Mitsuko may be able to live with it, but it didn't mean she had to like it, or any of the people involved in running this shitshow.
We will kill each other.
They had her by the proverbial balls, and there was nothing she could really do. She sure as shit didn't want to die, and if she had to go through a couple people just to live, well, she could live with it.
We will kill each other.
Because her life was worth more than her dignity. So she would learn to live with it.
We will kill each other.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
Because she could live with it.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
She. Could. Live with it.
If I do not kill, I will be killed.
Plop
Three seats to her left, a paper airplane landed by Takiguchi's deak. Some motherfucker was about to get their ass whipped. She just looked ahead to Sakamochi.
Sakamochi-sensei, go suck your mom's dick.
Mitsuko may be able to live with it, but it didn't mean she had to like it, or any of the people involved in running this shitshow.
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
When the sounds of scribbling had finally mostly died down, Sakamochi gestured to the students.
"Very good," he said. "Now then, it's time for all of you to get started. It's in random order, generated by a computer, so you know it's fair."
He pulled an envelope out from a pocket inside his jacket and held it up, but did not yet open it.
"One student will leave every two minutes. That's a pretty quick pace, so we'll all have to work together to keep it up. When I call your name, you'll come up, take the bag on top of the pile, and then walk out that door. Turn right, head down the hall, and you'll be outside. Oh, and no loitering in the hall, or you'll be shot.
"Now then..."
Sakamochi again reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of scissors with pink ribbon wrapped around the handle. With great dignity and solemnity, he snipped one of the short ends off the envelope, and pulled out the paper inside, unfolding it.
"Alright, alright. The first student to leave will be...
"Very good," he said. "Now then, it's time for all of you to get started. It's in random order, generated by a computer, so you know it's fair."
He pulled an envelope out from a pocket inside his jacket and held it up, but did not yet open it.
"One student will leave every two minutes. That's a pretty quick pace, so we'll all have to work together to keep it up. When I call your name, you'll come up, take the bag on top of the pile, and then walk out that door. Turn right, head down the hall, and you'll be outside. Oh, and no loitering in the hall, or you'll be shot.
"Now then..."
Sakamochi again reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of scissors with pink ribbon wrapped around the handle. With great dignity and solemnity, he snipped one of the short ends off the envelope, and pulled out the paper inside, unfolding it.
"Alright, alright. The first student to leave will be...
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DerArknight
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Feb 18, 2021 9:47 pm
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"... Keita Iijima."
Of course trying to hide hadn't worked.
Of course they hadn't magically forgotten he was there.
Of course he was the first to get sent out.
With shaking legs, Keita stood up. He now saw the island that Sakamochi had scribbled on the board. He now also saw Hayashida for a second time, which was two times too many.
As he made his way to the front, he felt the eyes of nearly the whole class staring into him. Where they evaluating him? Thinking about how dangerous he would be? Or were they already imagining how to best kill him?
He didn't know. He didn't want to know.
When arriving near the door, he took the bag at the top of the pile. It felt awkward in his hands.
Then, following a weird urge, he turned to his class one last time.
"T-t-take care, everyone."
With that, Keita Iijima left the classroom.
((Keita Iijima continued in Dead Man's Hand))
Of course trying to hide hadn't worked.
Of course they hadn't magically forgotten he was there.
Of course he was the first to get sent out.
With shaking legs, Keita stood up. He now saw the island that Sakamochi had scribbled on the board. He now also saw Hayashida for a second time, which was two times too many.
As he made his way to the front, he felt the eyes of nearly the whole class staring into him. Where they evaluating him? Thinking about how dangerous he would be? Or were they already imagining how to best kill him?
He didn't know. He didn't want to know.
When arriving near the door, he took the bag at the top of the pile. It felt awkward in his hands.
Then, following a weird urge, he turned to his class one last time.
"T-t-take care, everyone."
With that, Keita Iijima left the classroom.
((Keita Iijima continued in Dead Man's Hand))
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AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
"Megumi Eto."
It...it was her nextt. Megumi barely even have time to breathe before being thrust through the gates of Hell.
For a moment she almost didn't want to get up. Like if she stayed sitting there, maybe she could deny that it was all happening. That she wasn't in The Program. That her friends weren't there with her. That she really was having a nightmare and she was only seconds away from waking up and going to Mom and Daddy and telling them about the awful, horrible dream she had been having.
The stinging on her calves once she suddenly stood, knocking the chair down behind her, reminded her.
'This is all real, and you're probably going to die here.'
She rushed to the front of the room, terrified of what could happen if she took too long. She snatched the next bag after Keita took his, and practically ran to the door to the hallway.
She stopped there. And for a moment her eyes looked over her classmates. The ones that really mattered to her. Kaori, Mizuho, Shuya, Takako-Takako?
'Not now, not when you don't even know if you're going to live to see tomorrow.'
Megumi took a deep breath, and chose to follow in Keita's example.
"Good...good luck, everyone."
[[And then she ran.]]
It...it was her nextt. Megumi barely even have time to breathe before being thrust through the gates of Hell.
For a moment she almost didn't want to get up. Like if she stayed sitting there, maybe she could deny that it was all happening. That she wasn't in The Program. That her friends weren't there with her. That she really was having a nightmare and she was only seconds away from waking up and going to Mom and Daddy and telling them about the awful, horrible dream she had been having.
The stinging on her calves once she suddenly stood, knocking the chair down behind her, reminded her.
'This is all real, and you're probably going to die here.'
She rushed to the front of the room, terrified of what could happen if she took too long. She snatched the next bag after Keita took his, and practically ran to the door to the hallway.
She stopped there. And for a moment her eyes looked over her classmates. The ones that really mattered to her. Kaori, Mizuho, Shuya, Takako-Takako?
'Not now, not when you don't even know if you're going to live to see tomorrow.'
Megumi took a deep breath, and chose to follow in Keita's example.
"Good...good luck, everyone."
[[And then she ran.]]
"Toshinori Oda."
Third place? Hmph.
Toshinori rose in a smooth motion and strode to the front of the room. He wasn't rushing, he simply saw no point in dawdling. This sorry lot would see his true value soon enough.
He picked up a bag, and then politely inclined his head to Sakamochi-sensei.
Then he left the room. He wished them neither luck nor care, why should he?
Lying was so crass.
Third place? Hmph.
Toshinori rose in a smooth motion and strode to the front of the room. He wasn't rushing, he simply saw no point in dawdling. This sorry lot would see his true value soon enough.
He picked up a bag, and then politely inclined his head to Sakamochi-sensei.
Then he left the room. He wished them neither luck nor care, why should he?
Lying was so crass.