Kazushi sweated at his desk, leg jiggling in anticipation. He'd been expecting to get called right after Takako, but whoever was reading these names out seemed to be doing it at random. Was that part of it? The torture of waiting, not knowing when your number was gonna be up?
The longer he waited, the more frustrated he became. He wanted to get out of here, away from the soldiers, and the smell of blood coming from Dragonfly's corpse. Why the hell weren't they calling his name? Everybody else was gonna be out there lying in wait, and they'd all have a headstart on getting their weapons and making plans with each other, and he wasn't going to have shit! This thing was basically rigged against him from the start!
If only the guys from the soccer team were here. They could all team up and kick some ass together, but figures that he was here alone from his stupid class, and he'd have to do it all on his own.
"Kazushi Niida."
Finally! He stood up, contriving to look as manly as possible, figuring it'd convince one of the frightened girls to cuddle up to him for shelter, or it'd get the guys to back off and leave him alone. He nodded at the soldiers as he got his bag, straightening up to hide the fact that it was way heavier than he'd expected it to be, and then sauntered out of the room.
Only when he was in the hallway and sure that nobody could see him did he start to run.
((Kazushi Niida continued elsewhere.))
START GAME
Interactive Prologue—please read the rules before replying!
Moderator: BRAU2 Director
Yuko watched nervously as her classmates left the room one by one, her anxiety growing with each one that received their bag before she did. Every student that left before her was one that could be waiting to ambush her by the door on the way out. She tightly clasped her hands together and rested them on top of the paper on her desk. She could barely even remember what she had written, and at this point she couldn't allow herself to get distracted and possibly miss her name being called. The minutes ticked by painfully, suspense continually growing until the words she had been waiting for rang out into the air.
"Yuko Sakaki."
After a quick glance around at the few remaining students, Yuko rose to her feet, quickly navigating through the maze of empty desks. Wordlessly, she retrieved her back and headed out the door of the classroom. As soon as the soldiers were no longer in sight, she broke into a sprint, bursting out through the exit doors without any attempt to slow down. Her lungs burned as she continued to run, the light from the school building getting fainter and fainter as she pushed into the darkness.
((Yuko Sakaki continued in Das Wandern))
"Yuko Sakaki."
After a quick glance around at the few remaining students, Yuko rose to her feet, quickly navigating through the maze of empty desks. Wordlessly, she retrieved her back and headed out the door of the classroom. As soon as the soldiers were no longer in sight, she broke into a sprint, bursting out through the exit doors without any attempt to slow down. Her lungs burned as she continued to run, the light from the school building getting fainter and fainter as she pushed into the darkness.
((Yuko Sakaki continued in Das Wandern))
Yutaka Seto was...not having to be honest. There was nothing he could do to make up for the feelings in the situation, the emotions, nothing. He just...has to focus, really. He has to make sure he isn't ambushed on his way out of here. That was his first thought. His second thought was to get his hands on that pack. Get out. Find a place to hide for...a while.
Hopefully his friends can be found. Shinji? He'll have to find him, not like he can follow him on the way out anyways.
"Yutaka Seto."
And Yutaka took his items, and left. He was pale.
((He looked like he was on death row, as he exited the classroom and continued elsewhere.))
Hopefully his friends can be found. Shinji? He'll have to find him, not like he can follow him on the way out anyways.
"Yutaka Seto."
And Yutaka took his items, and left. He was pale.
((He looked like he was on death row, as he exited the classroom and continued elsewhere.))
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 607
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
The false teacher, Sakamochi, gave them more instructions, no, demands. Shūya took out the pen and paper, as demanded of him, but scowled as he did so.
At the man's next order, though, he balked.
[We will kill each other...?]
[If I don't kill, I'll die...?]
He shook his head, flush with renewed anger.
[...I'll never write that...!]
He took the pen and paper and wrote down the truth, first in Japanese and then in English.
私は誰も殺しません。
I won't kill anyone.
私は平和のために戦う。
I will fight for peace.
私はロックの力を信じる。
I believe in the power of rock music.
それは私の抵抗です！
That's my resistance!
— 七原秋也 / Nanahara Shūya.
Roulette, with my life!
Sakamochi didn't take the papers, and the guards didn't even seem to look at them; in a way, Shūya was disappointed. He hoped they would see it later.
[I want those bastards to get the message...]
[...I won't let them toy with our lives!]
The official said he would dismiss them all and claimed it would be fair, but he didn't believe it. The government and their random computers weren't trustworthy. He worried a little bit; they might try to stop him from ever acting on his resolution.
Shūya watched as the other students got called, one by one. Friends came and went. He watched them leave the room and enter the government's death game.
Eventually, they called Noriko's name. He didn't want to watch her go, but she came up to him and offered him the bag of cookies. The act almost made him want to cry; he didn't and instead wore a face of steel resolve.
He whispered towards her, uncertain feelings swirling inside of him.
"Thank you."
He wasn't sure if she'd even hear him.
Roulette, with my kids and my wife!
Eventually, after more names, Sakamochi looked Shūya dead in the eyes and called his name.
"Shūya Nanahara."
He stood up from the desk in a singular, swift motion. The guards looked at him with serious expressions, and their fingers drifted towards the triggers of their rifles.
Roulette, the bullet's in the chamber!
[I'll show them...]
Shūya walked up to the front of the class. He did not show fear or uncertainty. Instead, he showed resolve.
Unbroken, unbreakable resolve.
His resolve was an insult to everything the Program stood for. It was an insult to Sakamochi, to the agents of the government—Tahara, Kondo, and Nomura—who called themselves soldiers, to the guns they wielded, and to the government that thought itself a case of efficient fascism.
[...resistance...]
[...this is what it means...!]
He looked out across the few peers who yet remained; he hoped his determination would inspire them.
[Standing resolute in the face of terror!]
[Standing defiant against impossible odds!]
Roulette, who's the unlucky stranger?
Shūya watched as one of the soldiers—Nomura, who had no charisma to speak of—tossed a bag at him. It was thrown at him with great force, like a tackle from Mitsuru, but he was prepared and caught it effortlessly.
Roulette, surprise, you're dead!
He walked towards Sakamochi, and he could tell that the guards were getting antsy. He reached for the zipper of his bag and began to open it but heard another soldier—the facetious one, Tahara—yell at him.
"Cut it out, you little shit."
Roulette, the gun's to your head!
Shūya ignored him and reached into his bag; he heard the rifles raise and the sound of fingers lightly needling at triggers. His expression didn't change.
Roulette, the bullet's spinning in the chamber!
He pulled the icepick out, held it by the handle, and then dropped it onto the ground; it clattered to the floor, right in front of Sakamochi's feet.
"I'll never play your game."
Roulette, pull the trigger, feel the click!
Shūya zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder like an electric guitar.
He then turned and left the room without another word.
No further danger!
B15: SHŪYA NANAHARA - CONTINUED IN "I Waited for the Sky to Change"
At the man's next order, though, he balked.
[We will kill each other...?]
[If I don't kill, I'll die...?]
He shook his head, flush with renewed anger.
[...I'll never write that...!]
He took the pen and paper and wrote down the truth, first in Japanese and then in English.
私は誰も殺しません。
I won't kill anyone.
私は平和のために戦う。
I will fight for peace.
私はロックの力を信じる。
I believe in the power of rock music.
それは私の抵抗です！
That's my resistance!
— 七原秋也 / Nanahara Shūya.
Roulette, with my life!
Sakamochi didn't take the papers, and the guards didn't even seem to look at them; in a way, Shūya was disappointed. He hoped they would see it later.
[I want those bastards to get the message...]
[...I won't let them toy with our lives!]
The official said he would dismiss them all and claimed it would be fair, but he didn't believe it. The government and their random computers weren't trustworthy. He worried a little bit; they might try to stop him from ever acting on his resolution.
Shūya watched as the other students got called, one by one. Friends came and went. He watched them leave the room and enter the government's death game.
Eventually, they called Noriko's name. He didn't want to watch her go, but she came up to him and offered him the bag of cookies. The act almost made him want to cry; he didn't and instead wore a face of steel resolve.
He whispered towards her, uncertain feelings swirling inside of him.
"Thank you."
He wasn't sure if she'd even hear him.
Roulette, with my kids and my wife!
Eventually, after more names, Sakamochi looked Shūya dead in the eyes and called his name.
"Shūya Nanahara."
He stood up from the desk in a singular, swift motion. The guards looked at him with serious expressions, and their fingers drifted towards the triggers of their rifles.
Roulette, the bullet's in the chamber!
[I'll show them...]
Shūya walked up to the front of the class. He did not show fear or uncertainty. Instead, he showed resolve.
Unbroken, unbreakable resolve.
His resolve was an insult to everything the Program stood for. It was an insult to Sakamochi, to the agents of the government—Tahara, Kondo, and Nomura—who called themselves soldiers, to the guns they wielded, and to the government that thought itself a case of efficient fascism.
[...resistance...]
[...this is what it means...!]
He looked out across the few peers who yet remained; he hoped his determination would inspire them.
[Standing resolute in the face of terror!]
[Standing defiant against impossible odds!]
Roulette, who's the unlucky stranger?
Shūya watched as one of the soldiers—Nomura, who had no charisma to speak of—tossed a bag at him. It was thrown at him with great force, like a tackle from Mitsuru, but he was prepared and caught it effortlessly.
Roulette, surprise, you're dead!
He walked towards Sakamochi, and he could tell that the guards were getting antsy. He reached for the zipper of his bag and began to open it but heard another soldier—the facetious one, Tahara—yell at him.
"Cut it out, you little shit."
Roulette, the gun's to your head!
Shūya ignored him and reached into his bag; he heard the rifles raise and the sound of fingers lightly needling at triggers. His expression didn't change.
Roulette, the bullet's spinning in the chamber!
He pulled the icepick out, held it by the handle, and then dropped it onto the ground; it clattered to the floor, right in front of Sakamochi's feet.
"I'll never play your game."
Roulette, pull the trigger, feel the click!
Shūya zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder like an electric guitar.
He then turned and left the room without another word.
No further danger!
B15: SHŪYA NANAHARA - CONTINUED IN "I Waited for the Sky to Change"
-
Pippi
- Posts: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
”Tatsumichi Oki.”
Man, it had taken that guy a while to get around to his name, eh? Tatsumichi wasn’t real used to being on the ass-end of lists, gotta be honest, ‘sides from the school register, and even then, there were still a few more guys and gals to come after him then. But when it came to bein’ picked for sports teams and assignin’ groups in health class and the like, he was always confident he’d be one of the first names called out, ‘specially if it had to do with soccer or handball. Maybe it was cause he was still pretty new to the class or somethin’, huh? Or maybe it was just cause of his seat right at the back of the room, tucked away behind all his friends.
‘Cause, hey, y’know, he didn’t really think this, whazzit, Sakamoto guy had really chosen the order they all left in totally by random, yeah? Couldn’t really tell ya why; just one of those gut instincts you got, one that you knew you really oughta listen to. Order coulda been some way of these guys hintin’ at somethin’, or tryin’ to communicate some kinda point across. Honestly, he really wouldn’t’ve put it past ‘em to put bets on this whole program, ‘n this order was what they figured the final order of, eh, elimination would be.
Yeah, he knew he was bein’ pretty casual about this whole thing, considerin’ he was still starin’ at an actual dead body and given everythin’ they were supposed to be doing in a couple minutes’ time. He’d always liked Mr. Hayashida as well; the guy had never seemed mad or impatient about how much longer it took Tatsumichi to understand the stuff he was tryin’ to teach. He really appreciated that, y’know? Really seemed to get that he was tryin’ his hardest, even when the results didn’t show nothin’ of the sort.
And now the guy had a bullet lodged in his head. And Tatsumichi was just kinda standin’ around.
Sure, he hadn’t actually noticed the moment he’d gotten up to his feet, and he almost lost balance for a second, swayin’ and bracing himself against the desk. And sure, he was sweatin’ like a pig right now, worse than he ever had after a full 90 minutes on the soccer pitch. But by all rights, he should be totally pissin’ his pants and screamin’ and crying and totally losin’ all control, just like pretty much everyone else in the class had gone and done. Didn’t really think anyone could blame him for doin’ that kinda stuff.
Well, hey, maybe one person could. Cause Tatsumichi was rememberin’ a phrase that had been knocked into his head, ever since he was just a lil sprout. Whenever he’d come home lookin’ all upset an’ woebegot after a bad test grade or soccer defeat, or whenever he’d look on the verge of burstin’ into tears after a nasty fall or somethin’ similar, his dad would just look at him over the rim of his glasses, face all stony an’ blank, and say the exact same twelve words, every single time.
“Real men don’t let anyone see their real feelings, you hear me?”
Truth be told, that had always left a real bad taste in Tatsumichi’s mouth, y’know? He’d started sayin’ it to his kid cousin as well, and that made him feel even more sick to his gut. The lil guy could have a real bad lookin’ scrape down his knee, oozin’ blood and bruisin’ round the edges, and his dad would just shake his head and chastise him for makin’ a scene instead. His old man never seemed to have a problem whenever he was in a good mood about anythin’, like when he was hootin’ and hollering at the TV durin’ a Marinos game, so why make such a big deal about feelin’ like crud?
End of the day, though, answer to that question didn’t really matter, eh? Cause the result was already totally set in stone. His teacher had been shot dead, and all his friends had been told to do the same to one another, and he couldn’t even squeeze out a single teardrop or nothin’.
He started walkin’ towards the front of the classroom, cause it wasn’t like he could do much more than that any longer. He started considerin’ something, though, as he reached the pile of bags, way smaller than it’d been just ten minutes back. Sure, it totally made sense to just break down into a puddle of sobbin’ and give up all hope right there and then, and he totally didn’t think any worse of nobody who did that sorta stuff. Honestly, like, damn, it felt like his body was tryin’ to react the right way, but there was a massive concrete wall in his head that was totally stoppin’ him from doin’ so, and it was really startin’ to frustrate him.
But maybe he could do somethin’ with this. This, eh, annoyin’ sense of calm that he was feelin’ right now, maybe he could use it to his advantage. He knew he wasn’t much of a thinkin’ guy, or a planning guy, so he didn’t know where to start from just yet, but there had to be another option ‘side from just mowin’ down anything that moved, yeah? He could think up some rabbit brained scheme on the fly, or help someone else get started on one, or just do somethin’ other than kill. He had to try. He’d said so much on his scrap of paper, after all.
Now, which way down the corridor had that guy said again? Right or left?
((Tatsumichi Oki continued in Dance of ghosts))
Man, it had taken that guy a while to get around to his name, eh? Tatsumichi wasn’t real used to being on the ass-end of lists, gotta be honest, ‘sides from the school register, and even then, there were still a few more guys and gals to come after him then. But when it came to bein’ picked for sports teams and assignin’ groups in health class and the like, he was always confident he’d be one of the first names called out, ‘specially if it had to do with soccer or handball. Maybe it was cause he was still pretty new to the class or somethin’, huh? Or maybe it was just cause of his seat right at the back of the room, tucked away behind all his friends.
‘Cause, hey, y’know, he didn’t really think this, whazzit, Sakamoto guy had really chosen the order they all left in totally by random, yeah? Couldn’t really tell ya why; just one of those gut instincts you got, one that you knew you really oughta listen to. Order coulda been some way of these guys hintin’ at somethin’, or tryin’ to communicate some kinda point across. Honestly, he really wouldn’t’ve put it past ‘em to put bets on this whole program, ‘n this order was what they figured the final order of, eh, elimination would be.
Yeah, he knew he was bein’ pretty casual about this whole thing, considerin’ he was still starin’ at an actual dead body and given everythin’ they were supposed to be doing in a couple minutes’ time. He’d always liked Mr. Hayashida as well; the guy had never seemed mad or impatient about how much longer it took Tatsumichi to understand the stuff he was tryin’ to teach. He really appreciated that, y’know? Really seemed to get that he was tryin’ his hardest, even when the results didn’t show nothin’ of the sort.
And now the guy had a bullet lodged in his head. And Tatsumichi was just kinda standin’ around.
Sure, he hadn’t actually noticed the moment he’d gotten up to his feet, and he almost lost balance for a second, swayin’ and bracing himself against the desk. And sure, he was sweatin’ like a pig right now, worse than he ever had after a full 90 minutes on the soccer pitch. But by all rights, he should be totally pissin’ his pants and screamin’ and crying and totally losin’ all control, just like pretty much everyone else in the class had gone and done. Didn’t really think anyone could blame him for doin’ that kinda stuff.
Well, hey, maybe one person could. Cause Tatsumichi was rememberin’ a phrase that had been knocked into his head, ever since he was just a lil sprout. Whenever he’d come home lookin’ all upset an’ woebegot after a bad test grade or soccer defeat, or whenever he’d look on the verge of burstin’ into tears after a nasty fall or somethin’ similar, his dad would just look at him over the rim of his glasses, face all stony an’ blank, and say the exact same twelve words, every single time.
“Real men don’t let anyone see their real feelings, you hear me?”
Truth be told, that had always left a real bad taste in Tatsumichi’s mouth, y’know? He’d started sayin’ it to his kid cousin as well, and that made him feel even more sick to his gut. The lil guy could have a real bad lookin’ scrape down his knee, oozin’ blood and bruisin’ round the edges, and his dad would just shake his head and chastise him for makin’ a scene instead. His old man never seemed to have a problem whenever he was in a good mood about anythin’, like when he was hootin’ and hollering at the TV durin’ a Marinos game, so why make such a big deal about feelin’ like crud?
End of the day, though, answer to that question didn’t really matter, eh? Cause the result was already totally set in stone. His teacher had been shot dead, and all his friends had been told to do the same to one another, and he couldn’t even squeeze out a single teardrop or nothin’.
He started walkin’ towards the front of the classroom, cause it wasn’t like he could do much more than that any longer. He started considerin’ something, though, as he reached the pile of bags, way smaller than it’d been just ten minutes back. Sure, it totally made sense to just break down into a puddle of sobbin’ and give up all hope right there and then, and he totally didn’t think any worse of nobody who did that sorta stuff. Honestly, like, damn, it felt like his body was tryin’ to react the right way, but there was a massive concrete wall in his head that was totally stoppin’ him from doin’ so, and it was really startin’ to frustrate him.
But maybe he could do somethin’ with this. This, eh, annoyin’ sense of calm that he was feelin’ right now, maybe he could use it to his advantage. He knew he wasn’t much of a thinkin’ guy, or a planning guy, so he didn’t know where to start from just yet, but there had to be another option ‘side from just mowin’ down anything that moved, yeah? He could think up some rabbit brained scheme on the fly, or help someone else get started on one, or just do somethin’ other than kill. He had to try. He’d said so much on his scrap of paper, after all.
Now, which way down the corridor had that guy said again? Right or left?
((Tatsumichi Oki continued in Dance of ghosts))
Kaori's name came so late that so was starting to wonder if her masterful strategy of sliding all the way down to the floor had actually paid off. If she just stayed still and stayed quiet, if she clapped her hand hard enough to her mouth—
"Kaori Minami."
She let out a miserable squeak, audible even through her hand. He misspoke. He misspoke. He was just calling out somebody with a really similar name that wasn't her, and nevermind that there wasn't anyone else in the class who even had a name anywhere close to hers, if she just didn't make any more noises and squeezed her eyes hard enough shut then—
"We don't have all night, Miss Minami."
Another sound strangled its way out of her throat and Kaori scrambled out from beneath the desk, lurching to her feet. She slipped and stumbled, catching herself on the desk, a high pitched screech going across the almost empty room as it grated over the floor. She felt like every single soldier was staring at her, fingers already inching towards triggers. It was just her and a couple others still here, they were probably bored, they were just going to shoot her for wasting time she was so dead.
Kaori's stumbling stride wasn't quite a walk or a run, but was hurried. She snatched at the closest bag, missed the strap, doubled back, grabbed it, dropped it, squeaked again, and then scooped it up in both arms and fled from the classroom.
"Kaori Minami."
She let out a miserable squeak, audible even through her hand. He misspoke. He misspoke. He was just calling out somebody with a really similar name that wasn't her, and nevermind that there wasn't anyone else in the class who even had a name anywhere close to hers, if she just didn't make any more noises and squeezed her eyes hard enough shut then—
"We don't have all night, Miss Minami."
Another sound strangled its way out of her throat and Kaori scrambled out from beneath the desk, lurching to her feet. She slipped and stumbled, catching herself on the desk, a high pitched screech going across the almost empty room as it grated over the floor. She felt like every single soldier was staring at her, fingers already inching towards triggers. It was just her and a couple others still here, they were probably bored, they were just going to shoot her for wasting time she was so dead.
Kaori's stumbling stride wasn't quite a walk or a run, but was hurried. She snatched at the closest bag, missed the strap, doubled back, grabbed it, dropped it, squeaked again, and then scooped it up in both arms and fled from the classroom.
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:13 am
Somehow, she'd missed not only her friends leaving but... everyone else too! There were no amount of movies to prepare her for the sight of having so many men with guns pointed and drawn. Ready, aimed, f-
"Yuka Nakagawa."
(continued elsewhere)
"Ah, I'm going, I'm going! No need to get too hasty, guys..."
Playing tennis didn't make her the fastest girl in the world, but it did give her an amount of explosiveness when she needed to. A spring to the legs. More bounce to the ounce, if you would. She had people to find, places to be... she prayed this wasn't the last time she'd get to meet up with her friends.
Yeah, they were just going to meet up to hang out. It would be just like any other day.
"Yuka Nakagawa."
(continued elsewhere)
"Ah, I'm going, I'm going! No need to get too hasty, guys..."
Playing tennis didn't make her the fastest girl in the world, but it did give her an amount of explosiveness when she needed to. A spring to the legs. More bounce to the ounce, if you would. She had people to find, places to be... she prayed this wasn't the last time she'd get to meet up with her friends.
Yeah, they were just going to meet up to hang out. It would be just like any other day.