Shinji could only watch as Shuya charged at Kamon, ignoring the cries of Yukie and Yoshio to stop. Then Hirono attempted to tackle Shuya, tried to stop him ... but to no avail. Kamon just casually signalled at one of the guards, who fired his entire clip into Shuya's body.
NO! he thought as Shuya practically fell on top of Hirono. He wanted to believe that he was seeing things, or that the ammo was fake, but there was no question about it. His friend was dead. As his classmates screamed around him, Shinji felt ... he didn't know how he felt. As Yukie screamed and rushed to Shuya's side, Shinji knew he had to do something. He closed his eyes momentarily as he raised his hands, and walked slowly towards Shuya and Hirono. No need to look like a threat now.
"Mr. Kamon, sir. May I please mourn Shuya? We all need to honor the dead." When he was amost there, Yukie got up and walked back to her desk. Looking at her face, through the tears, Shinji saw a cold anger in her eyes. When he reached Shuya's body he knelt down, shook his hand, and crossed them across his chest. Then he raised the body high enough to release Hirono's arm, and gently helped her up and into her desk. As he walked back to his desk, he looked directly at Yukie and mouthed out so nobody could hear him: Cooperate for now. No questions. Meet me outside. As he sat down, Shinji hoped that Yukie understood him.
Fumiyo watched as people cried for Shuya to stop, with Hirono even trying to tackle him down. Then the one of the guards shot Shuya. Fumiyo just screamed. Oh. no. Oh. no. Oh. no. ... Shuya was the most positive person in the class. If there was anybody the class could get behind, it was Shuya. Who could get them out now? Could they get out at all? Or would they be stuck to playing the game? She didn't know. So she just sat there, numb with fear.
The Worst Game In History
Program: ShiroIwa Junior High School - Grade 9/Class B - COMMENCE
-
Grim Wolf*
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Wed Aug 22, 2018 6:36 pm
Hiroki didn't know too much about his classmates. He knew a little, he supposed; their basic interests, their flaws, strengths and foibles. But he wasn't particularly close to most of them. Shinji, Takako, and...and...
Shuuya.
His body held in absolute rigidity, Hiroki watched as Shuuya charged forwards. A panic seized him; it was all happening too fast, even the muscles he'd spent so long training couldn't react to such a situation. He'd trained all that time to defend himself from danger, to protect those he needed to protect, to....
To never be weak again.
And yet there was Shuuya--always madly charging ahead, never stopping to think. Shuuya, oh God Shuuya, leaping into a fight where he could see the victor set in stone, swinging fists with a complete inability to hit anything and a complete disregard for his own well-being, Shuuya-!
And what did he do?
It was different, for the others. They had no ability to cope with this; they had no talents upon which to rely. But Hiorki had trained his body to fight. Had trained his body to react to danger, to stop wrongs from being committed. And here was a huge wrong--a colossal wrong. Who had reacted? Not Hiroki, for God's sakes. Not...not Hiroki.
Hirono. Of all the people here it was Hirono.
Shinji got up. Shinji did whatever little magic it was that Shinji could always do--those right words whispered in the right ears at exactly the right time. And Hiroki sat, not screaming, not even crying, his pace deathly pale and his fingers clenched along the edge of his desk. There was nothing else he could...
Well, that wasn't true.
He glanced up. Yoshitoki was in the seat in front of him. Without a word Hiroki reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight. The purpose was two-fold, of course; if Yoshi tried to get up...
"M-move and I'll knock you out," he whispered. Once, when Shuuya had been drinking, he'd gotten to talking about Yoshi's temper. Hiroki had no desire to see it in action.
Satomi Noda stared.
And stared.
And stared.
With the first burst of gunfire, her tears had dried up. A wall of ice had been interposed between her body and her emotions. A seething, tumultuous blaze of fear worked at her innards, threatened to tear her apart, but on the outside her face, though wet, was no longer tearful. Her eyes had not even gone wide.
Shuuya Nanahara. Shuuya Nanahara, "Wild Seven", Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky himself. A loud, obnoxious brat who never said an unkind word to anyone.
Anyone could die in this game. Even wannabe-rocker angels.
It was the first time Sho Tsukioka had ever seen anyone die. He had seen blood, to be sure, and plenty of pain. When you rode with Kiriyama it was par for the slick-haired course; he was a boy of extraordinary violence, and he was very good at it.
But killing someone?
He gave a little scream as the bullets came and lowered his head, throwing his arms up defensively (stupid, really, hon; how many bullets you think your arms are going to stop?). He lifted his head and there was Nanahara, oozing blood from a dozen newly-made--and rather too large--pores.
Those are going to be a bitch to clean.
He didn't feel anything, really. The reality hadn't quite hit him yet.
Shuuya.
His body held in absolute rigidity, Hiroki watched as Shuuya charged forwards. A panic seized him; it was all happening too fast, even the muscles he'd spent so long training couldn't react to such a situation. He'd trained all that time to defend himself from danger, to protect those he needed to protect, to....
To never be weak again.
And yet there was Shuuya--always madly charging ahead, never stopping to think. Shuuya, oh God Shuuya, leaping into a fight where he could see the victor set in stone, swinging fists with a complete inability to hit anything and a complete disregard for his own well-being, Shuuya-!
And what did he do?
It was different, for the others. They had no ability to cope with this; they had no talents upon which to rely. But Hiorki had trained his body to fight. Had trained his body to react to danger, to stop wrongs from being committed. And here was a huge wrong--a colossal wrong. Who had reacted? Not Hiroki, for God's sakes. Not...not Hiroki.
Hirono. Of all the people here it was Hirono.
Shinji got up. Shinji did whatever little magic it was that Shinji could always do--those right words whispered in the right ears at exactly the right time. And Hiroki sat, not screaming, not even crying, his pace deathly pale and his fingers clenched along the edge of his desk. There was nothing else he could...
Well, that wasn't true.
He glanced up. Yoshitoki was in the seat in front of him. Without a word Hiroki reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight. The purpose was two-fold, of course; if Yoshi tried to get up...
"M-move and I'll knock you out," he whispered. Once, when Shuuya had been drinking, he'd gotten to talking about Yoshi's temper. Hiroki had no desire to see it in action.
Satomi Noda stared.
And stared.
And stared.
With the first burst of gunfire, her tears had dried up. A wall of ice had been interposed between her body and her emotions. A seething, tumultuous blaze of fear worked at her innards, threatened to tear her apart, but on the outside her face, though wet, was no longer tearful. Her eyes had not even gone wide.
Shuuya Nanahara. Shuuya Nanahara, "Wild Seven", Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky himself. A loud, obnoxious brat who never said an unkind word to anyone.
Anyone could die in this game. Even wannabe-rocker angels.
It was the first time Sho Tsukioka had ever seen anyone die. He had seen blood, to be sure, and plenty of pain. When you rode with Kiriyama it was par for the slick-haired course; he was a boy of extraordinary violence, and he was very good at it.
But killing someone?
He gave a little scream as the bullets came and lowered his head, throwing his arms up defensively (stupid, really, hon; how many bullets you think your arms are going to stop?). He lifted his head and there was Nanahara, oozing blood from a dozen newly-made--and rather too large--pores.
Those are going to be a bitch to clean.
He didn't feel anything, really. The reality hadn't quite hit him yet.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Grim Wolf. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Whilst Mr Kamon was answering Kuninobu’s question regarding Mrs Anno, Hiroshi had already began to hopelessly consider all the alternate reasons for why they where all gathered here. Maybe… maybe this is all some elaborate joke? You know, like the ones on those prank shows on TV where they make you think you’re in some crazy horror movie! Those guns probably only fire blanks or something, and I bet that fat bastard doesn’t even work for the government! Yeah! That has to be it! I mean, this has to be a joke… No way I’m actually IN the program, right?
Of course, those hopes were immediately dashed the second Shuuya’s retribution for what had happened to Mrs Anno was cut short by a vicious hail of gunfire. His eyes widened as he witnessed Shuuya fall, tumbling over Hirono as she attempted to stop him halfway through his foolish attempt. He couldn’t help but gulp in fear. After all, this proved without a doubt that this was the real deal, and that if told to do so these soldiers WILL kill you without question. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! No WAY could they’ve faked that! Fuck, I really AM in the program aren’t I?!?
At first, fear gripped him. What if I’m next?!? What if the second I leave here, some bastard with a machete comes at me or something? I’m practically a walking dead man! I… I… Then, as his thoughts began to clear and the initial shock of Shuuya’s death began to dissipate, he turned his head towards Kiriyama and the others and started to feel confident again. No… No, what am I thinking? You’re a member of Kiriyama’s gang, remember? You're one of the top dogs. One of the guys who REALLY call the shots around here, unlike that pussy Motobuchi. Nobody’s gonna be going after you now, are they? Hell, if anything THEY’LL be the guys running from YOU! Yeah, that’s right! This cheered him up somewhat. Just play it cool, and you’ll be fine. Once Kiriyama comes up with an idea for us to get out of this mess, it’ll be smooth sailing from there on out. At least, that’s what he hoped anyway.
As for Ryuhei, he too had initially been quite shocked at Shuuya’s sudden death. Like Hiroshi, he hadn’t been concentrating on what was happening. He was more concerned with the fact that his left shoelace was undone, and whether or not bending over to tie it would make him look as if he was committing some act of defiance. Of course, as soon as the shooting started (And after nearly jumping out of his seat when Sho shrieked in terror behind him) he immediately forgot what he was thinking about, and instead was more concerned with the fact that they were now one classmate less then they started with. However, unlike Hiroshi, Ryuhei was more shocked by the fact that he just witnessed murder in front of his eyes rather then the fact that they really were about to participate in the program. Jesus… I… I can’t believe it! Nanahara… FUCKING Nanahara…just got wasted! Wasted right in front of my own fucking eyes!
Oh course, the shock wasn’t because he was greatly upset at the loss of rock ‘n’ roll wannabe. Hell, he virtually hated the guy. Hated his “can’t we all just get along” attitude and that wussy smile of his that just got on Ryuhei's nerves. Not to mention he was somewhat jealous of the fact that he, alongside Shinji, seems to be the guy who all the girls want to get with. Heck, even now his groupies are already weeping about losing their precious Shuuya. One of them even tried to stop him from getting himself killed, the lucky bastard!
Still, even though he hated Shuuya with a passion, it didn’t mean he wanted to see him lying dead in a pool of his own blood! Beaten to a pulp, maybe, but dead? That's stretching it way too far... I mean… GOD DAMN! He was alive a few moments ago, and now look at him! Dead as a doornail!
Still… on the bright side... At least I’m still alive… well, for now anyway. And with that, he simply swallowed and waited patiently to see what would happen next.
Of course, those hopes were immediately dashed the second Shuuya’s retribution for what had happened to Mrs Anno was cut short by a vicious hail of gunfire. His eyes widened as he witnessed Shuuya fall, tumbling over Hirono as she attempted to stop him halfway through his foolish attempt. He couldn’t help but gulp in fear. After all, this proved without a doubt that this was the real deal, and that if told to do so these soldiers WILL kill you without question. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! No WAY could they’ve faked that! Fuck, I really AM in the program aren’t I?!?
At first, fear gripped him. What if I’m next?!? What if the second I leave here, some bastard with a machete comes at me or something? I’m practically a walking dead man! I… I… Then, as his thoughts began to clear and the initial shock of Shuuya’s death began to dissipate, he turned his head towards Kiriyama and the others and started to feel confident again. No… No, what am I thinking? You’re a member of Kiriyama’s gang, remember? You're one of the top dogs. One of the guys who REALLY call the shots around here, unlike that pussy Motobuchi. Nobody’s gonna be going after you now, are they? Hell, if anything THEY’LL be the guys running from YOU! Yeah, that’s right! This cheered him up somewhat. Just play it cool, and you’ll be fine. Once Kiriyama comes up with an idea for us to get out of this mess, it’ll be smooth sailing from there on out. At least, that’s what he hoped anyway.
As for Ryuhei, he too had initially been quite shocked at Shuuya’s sudden death. Like Hiroshi, he hadn’t been concentrating on what was happening. He was more concerned with the fact that his left shoelace was undone, and whether or not bending over to tie it would make him look as if he was committing some act of defiance. Of course, as soon as the shooting started (And after nearly jumping out of his seat when Sho shrieked in terror behind him) he immediately forgot what he was thinking about, and instead was more concerned with the fact that they were now one classmate less then they started with. However, unlike Hiroshi, Ryuhei was more shocked by the fact that he just witnessed murder in front of his eyes rather then the fact that they really were about to participate in the program. Jesus… I… I can’t believe it! Nanahara… FUCKING Nanahara…just got wasted! Wasted right in front of my own fucking eyes!
Oh course, the shock wasn’t because he was greatly upset at the loss of rock ‘n’ roll wannabe. Hell, he virtually hated the guy. Hated his “can’t we all just get along” attitude and that wussy smile of his that just got on Ryuhei's nerves. Not to mention he was somewhat jealous of the fact that he, alongside Shinji, seems to be the guy who all the girls want to get with. Heck, even now his groupies are already weeping about losing their precious Shuuya. One of them even tried to stop him from getting himself killed, the lucky bastard!
Still, even though he hated Shuuya with a passion, it didn’t mean he wanted to see him lying dead in a pool of his own blood! Beaten to a pulp, maybe, but dead? That's stretching it way too far... I mean… GOD DAMN! He was alive a few moments ago, and now look at him! Dead as a doornail!
Still… on the bright side... At least I’m still alive… well, for now anyway. And with that, he simply swallowed and waited patiently to see what would happen next.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
It felt like a long time, but in reality it was probably only a couple of seconds after she had fallen that a searing pain began to make itself known in Hirono's arm. As it hit her, Hirono had a sharp intake of breath, sounding almost like a hiss as it forced its way through tightly gritted teeth. Crap but that hurt! Hirono was about to try and free herself with her other hand when there was a near-hysterical scream, and a blubbering Yukie Utsumi was suddenly hugging Nanahara's body.
Well look at that... somebody had a crush. ...Damn, that fucking sucks. I never saw them out together. Did she even tell him about it?
Some vaguely sympathetic thoughts went through Hirono's head, but irritation was chasing right along after them. Get a grip, Yukie! No amount of crying or denials was going to change the fact, and coming out of her seat had been stupid, besides. She was damned lucky the Kamon hadn't made her next on the list. Hell, Hirono was lucky not to have been killed. Utsumi really needed to get a hold of herself...
Then all of a sudden, up waltzed Shinji Mimura. Christ, did the director not give the SLIGHTEST damn about people up and leaving their desks all of a sudden? Had offing Nanahara quelled his interest in violence a little? Well, regardless, Mimura did his thing, cool as could be. How could he be so calm after watching his friend get gunned down!? Of course, Hirono appreciated being helped up, but damn, either somebody was cold or somebody was calculating something.
As her arm was freed, Hirono immediately cradled it, surveying the damage, then swore under her breath. There was a lengthy rip in the sleeve of her uniform, with a gash beneath running halfway up her forearm. A bullet must've grazed her when she was trying to tackle Nanahara... Returning to her seat, Hirono clenched at her wound. It wasn't bleeding too much, but it hurt like a bitch.
Fuck. Nice one, NICE one. All that accomplished was getting you hurt as well as Shuuya dead. Real brains of the operation, Hirono.
~*~
Mitsuru Numai had been keeping himself consistently calm by reminding himself that he was Kazuo Kiriyama's right hand man, and that if anyone could bust the Program, it was going to be his boss. However, not even the hardest of the hard (An' I am hard, just not Kazuo hard) could have remained stoic in the face of what transpired when the government toady responded to Kuninobu's question.
Nanahara, to put it bluntly, flipped the fuck out, and went charging straight at Kamon like he was on a freaking suicide mission. If that wasn't insane enough, Shimizu then dived out of her seat to try and take him down. The fuck was up with that? The crazy-haired chick was part of Souma's crew, and even Mitsuru thought twice about tangling with them (Not that I wouldn't win, they're just all sorta' crazy.) If there was ever going to be somebody trying a rescue, Mitsuru would not have named her.
And then... Mitsuru's jaw dropped as one of the soldiers opened fire and fucking wasted Nanahara! How the hell could that have just happened!? This was Shuuya freaking Nanahara! Sure, he could be annoying as hell, getting under the family's feet - Ry had always hated the guy, but now he was DEAD! Mitsuru had been at school with the guy for years for fuck's sake!
Mitsuru was hard, hard pushed to keep himself from panicking, and to his astonishment, he felt tears pricking at his eyes. (No, NO! I don't fuckin' cry! Stop bein' a fuckin' sap!). As the commotion continued at the front of the class, Mitsuru balled his hands. All he needed to do was stay calm and not freak out. Kazuo would know what to do, he always did.
~*~
All of Haruka's effort in stopping herself crying was promptly wasted as the twisted 'lecture' continued and Shuuya Nanahara went charging towards their 'teacher'. When her friend Yukie jumped up and cried out in anguish... that was when the tears started up again. She was too far away! Practically at the right back corner of the room! (quite near Kiriyama's crew, as it happened, which she wouldn't have been best pleased about on a more normal day).
Hope briefly rose up as sombody (Haruka couldn't see the would-be rescuer too well from her position) attempted to bring Shuuya down, but it was utterly crushed seconds later as a burst of automatic fire ripped into the rockstar's chest. Haruka's first thought was along the lines of 'Holy freaking crap! That crazy-psycho-freak just had Shuuya killed!' the second was concern for Yukie. Haruka knew that her friend had... well, a thing for Nanahara, and...
It hit Haruka hard to see her friend so upset and to have no way of comforting her. Seemed just about everyone was standing up, and there was no real way Haruka could justify walking all the way up to the front of the classroom, from where she was. Risking Kamon's displeasure would be a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.
Stay strong Yukie, I'm here for you... as much as I can be.
Well look at that... somebody had a crush. ...Damn, that fucking sucks. I never saw them out together. Did she even tell him about it?
Some vaguely sympathetic thoughts went through Hirono's head, but irritation was chasing right along after them. Get a grip, Yukie! No amount of crying or denials was going to change the fact, and coming out of her seat had been stupid, besides. She was damned lucky the Kamon hadn't made her next on the list. Hell, Hirono was lucky not to have been killed. Utsumi really needed to get a hold of herself...
Then all of a sudden, up waltzed Shinji Mimura. Christ, did the director not give the SLIGHTEST damn about people up and leaving their desks all of a sudden? Had offing Nanahara quelled his interest in violence a little? Well, regardless, Mimura did his thing, cool as could be. How could he be so calm after watching his friend get gunned down!? Of course, Hirono appreciated being helped up, but damn, either somebody was cold or somebody was calculating something.
As her arm was freed, Hirono immediately cradled it, surveying the damage, then swore under her breath. There was a lengthy rip in the sleeve of her uniform, with a gash beneath running halfway up her forearm. A bullet must've grazed her when she was trying to tackle Nanahara... Returning to her seat, Hirono clenched at her wound. It wasn't bleeding too much, but it hurt like a bitch.
Fuck. Nice one, NICE one. All that accomplished was getting you hurt as well as Shuuya dead. Real brains of the operation, Hirono.
~*~
Mitsuru Numai had been keeping himself consistently calm by reminding himself that he was Kazuo Kiriyama's right hand man, and that if anyone could bust the Program, it was going to be his boss. However, not even the hardest of the hard (An' I am hard, just not Kazuo hard) could have remained stoic in the face of what transpired when the government toady responded to Kuninobu's question.
Nanahara, to put it bluntly, flipped the fuck out, and went charging straight at Kamon like he was on a freaking suicide mission. If that wasn't insane enough, Shimizu then dived out of her seat to try and take him down. The fuck was up with that? The crazy-haired chick was part of Souma's crew, and even Mitsuru thought twice about tangling with them (Not that I wouldn't win, they're just all sorta' crazy.) If there was ever going to be somebody trying a rescue, Mitsuru would not have named her.
And then... Mitsuru's jaw dropped as one of the soldiers opened fire and fucking wasted Nanahara! How the hell could that have just happened!? This was Shuuya freaking Nanahara! Sure, he could be annoying as hell, getting under the family's feet - Ry had always hated the guy, but now he was DEAD! Mitsuru had been at school with the guy for years for fuck's sake!
Mitsuru was hard, hard pushed to keep himself from panicking, and to his astonishment, he felt tears pricking at his eyes. (No, NO! I don't fuckin' cry! Stop bein' a fuckin' sap!). As the commotion continued at the front of the class, Mitsuru balled his hands. All he needed to do was stay calm and not freak out. Kazuo would know what to do, he always did.
~*~
All of Haruka's effort in stopping herself crying was promptly wasted as the twisted 'lecture' continued and Shuuya Nanahara went charging towards their 'teacher'. When her friend Yukie jumped up and cried out in anguish... that was when the tears started up again. She was too far away! Practically at the right back corner of the room! (quite near Kiriyama's crew, as it happened, which she wouldn't have been best pleased about on a more normal day).
Hope briefly rose up as sombody (Haruka couldn't see the would-be rescuer too well from her position) attempted to bring Shuuya down, but it was utterly crushed seconds later as a burst of automatic fire ripped into the rockstar's chest. Haruka's first thought was along the lines of 'Holy freaking crap! That crazy-psycho-freak just had Shuuya killed!' the second was concern for Yukie. Haruka knew that her friend had... well, a thing for Nanahara, and...
It hit Haruka hard to see her friend so upset and to have no way of comforting her. Seemed just about everyone was standing up, and there was no real way Haruka could justify walking all the way up to the front of the classroom, from where she was. Risking Kamon's displeasure would be a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.
Stay strong Yukie, I'm here for you... as much as I can be.
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
Yonemi Kamon had a broad smirk on his face as he watched Nanahara crumple to the floor, dead as could be, dragging the Shimizu girl down with him. Kamon thought about indicating for Kando to kill the student with the bizarre hair too, just to make a point, but he really had to watch where he stood on that count. The more students that died in here and not out there, the more likely it was to make a dent in his paycheque. He most assuredly did not want that to happen. Shimizu, in this regard, was lucky.
As was Utsumi, who ran over to cradle Shuya's dead body in her arms. It was irritating that she'd got up, but as he palmed his pistol, Kamon reminded himself that a hysterical teenager was of no threat to him personally.
"Ah... young love," he said, watching the display. "So tragic <3. Now cl-" Kamon was cut off yet again by some other kid standing up and walking towards them, holding up his hands as if to indicated he meant no harm. "Yes, fine," Kamon snapped to the request. "But then go and sit your ass down."
"That one's on me," Kamon said, gesturing towards Nanahara. "And let that be a lesson to you. Nobody threatens teacher dearest. Save your energy to fight hard once the game begins young warriors! Believe me, you'll need it. <3"
Once everything had settled down, Kamon holstered his pistol, then walked up to the blackboard, holding some chalk in one meaty hand. He drew a rough diamond onto the board, then began to divide it into a rough grid.
"Attend, class. This is the island that this year's Program is going to take place upon..."
*Description of island, maps, collars, danger zones and announcements ensues*
Kamon clapped his hands and smiled.
"Excellent. Very attentive, all of you. Any questions? No? Good. Now, before you go, you may notice that some of these lovely gentlemen have been handing each of you paper and pencils. Now, take up your pencils and write 'I will kill...' followed by the name of a classmate. Repeat until all classmates have been named," Kamon looked down at the cooling corpse of Nanahara. "Well, teacher is generous. You may leave Nanahara out. He'll be the least of your worries once you leave this building. <3"
((This is the opportunity to pass messages, just remember to be subtle about it. This is almost the end of the classroom scene, so if there's anything you really want to say/write, do it ASAP))
As was Utsumi, who ran over to cradle Shuya's dead body in her arms. It was irritating that she'd got up, but as he palmed his pistol, Kamon reminded himself that a hysterical teenager was of no threat to him personally.
"Ah... young love," he said, watching the display. "So tragic <3. Now cl-" Kamon was cut off yet again by some other kid standing up and walking towards them, holding up his hands as if to indicated he meant no harm. "Yes, fine," Kamon snapped to the request. "But then go and sit your ass down."
"That one's on me," Kamon said, gesturing towards Nanahara. "And let that be a lesson to you. Nobody threatens teacher dearest. Save your energy to fight hard once the game begins young warriors! Believe me, you'll need it. <3"
Once everything had settled down, Kamon holstered his pistol, then walked up to the blackboard, holding some chalk in one meaty hand. He drew a rough diamond onto the board, then began to divide it into a rough grid.
"Attend, class. This is the island that this year's Program is going to take place upon..."
*Description of island, maps, collars, danger zones and announcements ensues*
Kamon clapped his hands and smiled.
"Excellent. Very attentive, all of you. Any questions? No? Good. Now, before you go, you may notice that some of these lovely gentlemen have been handing each of you paper and pencils. Now, take up your pencils and write 'I will kill...' followed by the name of a classmate. Repeat until all classmates have been named," Kamon looked down at the cooling corpse of Nanahara. "Well, teacher is generous. You may leave Nanahara out. He'll be the least of your worries once you leave this building. <3"
((This is the opportunity to pass messages, just remember to be subtle about it. This is almost the end of the classroom scene, so if there's anything you really want to say/write, do it ASAP))
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Kyoichi watched, in horror, as Shuuya shot out of his seat and made his way towards the "teacher". At first, the only thing the male class representative could feel through his shock was jealousy. Here was Nanahara, about to upstage him, play the hero, save the day, leave Kyoichi looking like an ineffective, pathetic pushover. And he wasn't, dammit! He was the representative. He was supposed to have authority. He was a leader.
All this passed through Kyoichi's head in a split second. Then Hirono tried to stop Shuuya. Even with that, the boy nearly made it. He almost reached the man at the front of the class, but then... then he was sprayed with bullets. Red erupted from his chest, and he fell to the ground, along with Hirono.
What?
That wasn't how things should have been. Intellectually, Kyoichi knew he was in the program. He knew he couldn't get out. But the reality of death hadn't hit him before this, not in its smelly, messy, not-at-all heroic glory.
There would be no escape. He knew it now. He couldn't get out of it, except one way, and that way was unthinkable. He couldn't kill his classmates.
He sobbed silently, the tears dripping onto his glasses.
When Kamon continued his announcement, Kyoichi regarded his provided pencil and paper. Write that he would kill his classmates? Or what? He'd probably be shot. He couldn't die here, not like Shuuya, not for some pointless act of resistance.
He began to write, in order of class number. No point getting killed. And he didn't have to do it just because he wrote it.
Mizuho watched the events in horror. This couldn't be happening. Shuuya died, but that couldn't be real. It just couldn't.
It was.
She didn't know what to make of the death, of the chaos, of the ups and downs of her fellow classmates. It was madness. Insanity. And there she was. She felt like she was watching a movie play out in front of her, some sort of bad sci fi. All it needed was some monsters. Wait, no there was a monster: Kamon. He was the worst person there could be, worse than she had ever imagined could exist.
She didn't cry.
She tuned back into his lecture, picked up the pencil in front of her, and began to write. At first, she wrote as directed, picking classmates at random. As she wrote, though, she let her mind drift. Kamon called her "warrior" too. He called them all warriors. How? How had the fortune teller known? How had she made the prediction, one she did not even believe herself?
Mizuho looked down at her paper. She was writing something different now:
I will kill those who hurt others. I will kill the unjust. I will kill the killers.
Hurriedly, she scratched it out, and went back to following directions.
All this passed through Kyoichi's head in a split second. Then Hirono tried to stop Shuuya. Even with that, the boy nearly made it. He almost reached the man at the front of the class, but then... then he was sprayed with bullets. Red erupted from his chest, and he fell to the ground, along with Hirono.
What?
That wasn't how things should have been. Intellectually, Kyoichi knew he was in the program. He knew he couldn't get out. But the reality of death hadn't hit him before this, not in its smelly, messy, not-at-all heroic glory.
There would be no escape. He knew it now. He couldn't get out of it, except one way, and that way was unthinkable. He couldn't kill his classmates.
He sobbed silently, the tears dripping onto his glasses.
When Kamon continued his announcement, Kyoichi regarded his provided pencil and paper. Write that he would kill his classmates? Or what? He'd probably be shot. He couldn't die here, not like Shuuya, not for some pointless act of resistance.
He began to write, in order of class number. No point getting killed. And he didn't have to do it just because he wrote it.
Mizuho watched the events in horror. This couldn't be happening. Shuuya died, but that couldn't be real. It just couldn't.
It was.
She didn't know what to make of the death, of the chaos, of the ups and downs of her fellow classmates. It was madness. Insanity. And there she was. She felt like she was watching a movie play out in front of her, some sort of bad sci fi. All it needed was some monsters. Wait, no there was a monster: Kamon. He was the worst person there could be, worse than she had ever imagined could exist.
She didn't cry.
She tuned back into his lecture, picked up the pencil in front of her, and began to write. At first, she wrote as directed, picking classmates at random. As she wrote, though, she let her mind drift. Kamon called her "warrior" too. He called them all warriors. How? How had the fortune teller known? How had she made the prediction, one she did not even believe herself?
Mizuho looked down at her paper. She was writing something different now:
I will kill those who hurt others. I will kill the unjust. I will kill the killers.
Hurriedly, she scratched it out, and went back to following directions.
Yoshitoki was in pure shock. He closed his eyes, tears rolling steadily down his cheek. Shuya couldn't be gone... He just couldn't! This couldn't be real... But there he was, lying dead in a pool of his own blood. He let out a sob. Nothing that Kamon said mattered... He just didn't matter. He wanted to curl up and die. This was more than enough to mentally break the poor boy. He had no thoughts beyond just running. Getting out of this school building, and running. Just running, to the ends of the earth. And he couldn't be the only one.
Everything that his best friend had stood for was lying, crumpled on the floor. Completely lifeless. That true spirit of a rebel. In his final moments, Shuya had thought to himself that he was no hero. To Yoshitoki, Shuya would always be his hero. Whether that was another 70 years, or another day. He would never forget the brave boy that tried to avenge Ms. Anno.
He finally caught the tail end of Kamon's speech. He had to write "I will kill", followed by the name of each and every single one of his classmates?!? His friends? This guy really was insane! He began to write quite reluctantly. And he did exactly as he was told. The last thing he wanted to do was end up dead...
Maybe it was time, maybe it was the repetitive, mindless activity. Maybe he was just stronger willed than he gave himself credit for. But as he wrote, he slowly came out of shock, and while it was extremely minor, he was gaining a conviction. A conviction to live. A conviction to avenge Shuya, just like he had tried to do. It would take time... But the atmosphere of the island was pretty much designed to force him to get over himself if he wanted to live. And he definitely did. He had already written down the names of every single classmate he had, as many times as he was told. But he added one last line, without even realizing it. One line that made his classmates total to 41 yet again. 'I will avenge Shuya Nanahara'.
Everything that his best friend had stood for was lying, crumpled on the floor. Completely lifeless. That true spirit of a rebel. In his final moments, Shuya had thought to himself that he was no hero. To Yoshitoki, Shuya would always be his hero. Whether that was another 70 years, or another day. He would never forget the brave boy that tried to avenge Ms. Anno.
He finally caught the tail end of Kamon's speech. He had to write "I will kill", followed by the name of each and every single one of his classmates?!? His friends? This guy really was insane! He began to write quite reluctantly. And he did exactly as he was told. The last thing he wanted to do was end up dead...
Maybe it was time, maybe it was the repetitive, mindless activity. Maybe he was just stronger willed than he gave himself credit for. But as he wrote, he slowly came out of shock, and while it was extremely minor, he was gaining a conviction. A conviction to live. A conviction to avenge Shuya, just like he had tried to do. It would take time... But the atmosphere of the island was pretty much designed to force him to get over himself if he wanted to live. And he definitely did. He had already written down the names of every single classmate he had, as many times as he was told. But he added one last line, without even realizing it. One line that made his classmates total to 41 yet again. 'I will avenge Shuya Nanahara'.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Kazuhiko was shocked as he saw the body of Nanahara collapse to the floor. The girl had stopped him. It had to be understandable that he would react the way he did. But he hadn't been shot in self defense... This was insane. He may not have known Shuya well, but... He was a fellow classmate. He was in such shock that his tears wouldn't even flow. Honestly though, if Kamon had said something similar about Sakura... Well, he would probably be the one dead on that floor instead of the wanna be rock star.
As Kamon had instructed them to pull paper from their desks, and begin writing, Kazuhiko took an initiative. He wrote a small note. "Meet me at the southern tip of the island", made an effort to fold it without Kamon noticing. He held the small piece of paper in his hand tightly, it pressed down against the next sheet as he penned words that terrified him to his core. 'I will kill Yoshitoki. I will kill Sho.' The only person he left out, was Sakura. And he hoped beyond all hope that no one noticed.
About three quarters of the way through his morbid task, He glanced up, thinking how he would get the note to her. If he shifted it to his left hand, he could momentarily brace himself on her desk... Fake that the blood and corpse was making him queasy. Then he could leave the note on the desk and hurry out of the room, holding his hand over his mouth. Not a bad plan.
He finished writing, and pocketed a pencil. No telling when it could be handy. He sat back up and waited to hear his name called to leave, trying his absolute best to avert his eyes from the dead corpse lying in the middle of the isle-way.
As Kamon had instructed them to pull paper from their desks, and begin writing, Kazuhiko took an initiative. He wrote a small note. "Meet me at the southern tip of the island", made an effort to fold it without Kamon noticing. He held the small piece of paper in his hand tightly, it pressed down against the next sheet as he penned words that terrified him to his core. 'I will kill Yoshitoki. I will kill Sho.' The only person he left out, was Sakura. And he hoped beyond all hope that no one noticed.
About three quarters of the way through his morbid task, He glanced up, thinking how he would get the note to her. If he shifted it to his left hand, he could momentarily brace himself on her desk... Fake that the blood and corpse was making him queasy. Then he could leave the note on the desk and hurry out of the room, holding his hand over his mouth. Not a bad plan.
He finished writing, and pocketed a pencil. No telling when it could be handy. He sat back up and waited to hear his name called to leave, trying his absolute best to avert his eyes from the dead corpse lying in the middle of the isle-way.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Akamatsu took a long while to collect himself. Shuya's body was dead and cold, everyone was back in their seats, and it had been almost a minute since the paper had been given out, and they were expected to...to...write who they were going to kill.
Akamatsu knew that the teacher meant business. It was stating the obvious, but Akamatsu was the best at that. If he was caught disobeying the teacher, he would most definitely be killed. So what did he do? What he was told. He wrote down the name of every student in his class, and said...that he would kill them.
He just finished writing when he had an idea. Sitting directly behind him was the student by the name of Mayumi Tendo. He knew, strategically and from common sense, that there was safety in numbers, and the chances were that the girls would get the best weapons. It was more pleasure to see bright, young, happy girls like the girl behind him snap and start to kill off their classmates, and what better way was their to do that than with the best weapons? Of course, he knew that it was random, but...it seemed like fate wanted him to know. It was simply lady luck that Mayumi sat behind him, a friend of Noriko's possibly, who was...actually, as insensitive as it was, Akamatsu wasn't sure what went on between Noriko and Shuuya. But the chances were, she wouldn't want to fight. Did anyone in here actually contemplate the act of killing their friends?
Going to the bottom of the page, he wrote in legible letters, a note meant only for the girl behind him.
I don't want to fight. I don't want to kill. Please, meet me at the most northern part of the island. Please.
He it up to his face, in a feign act to read the paper again, exposing it to the girl behind him. He hoped she read it. But even if she did, would she really want to spend her last possible days with a doofus like him? He didn't want to play this game, he didn't want to kill anybody...he just didn't want to be alone.
After holding it up for 5 seconds, he brought it down again, and slowly and methodically started to blacked the bottom line of the paper, on both sides. On the other side of the paper, he started writing again.
I'm sorry Noriko
I'm sorry Niida
I'm sorry Mayumi
I'm sorry Megumi
I'm sorry...
*
Yuko knew that she wouldn't be killed if she followed instructions. She wrote down the first name she could think of, and followed suit with the rest of the class until the list was finished. Of course, they were only words. Words didn't mean anything unless there was a brute force behind it. And she swore on her life that she would never kill one of her friends, her classmates, or even one of the bad boys who always hurt people. Even though they probably deserved it, she didn't think they deserved to die here, of all places.
Yuko looked around the classroom, trying desperately to get someone's attention, grab their eyes.
Akamatsu knew that the teacher meant business. It was stating the obvious, but Akamatsu was the best at that. If he was caught disobeying the teacher, he would most definitely be killed. So what did he do? What he was told. He wrote down the name of every student in his class, and said...that he would kill them.
He just finished writing when he had an idea. Sitting directly behind him was the student by the name of Mayumi Tendo. He knew, strategically and from common sense, that there was safety in numbers, and the chances were that the girls would get the best weapons. It was more pleasure to see bright, young, happy girls like the girl behind him snap and start to kill off their classmates, and what better way was their to do that than with the best weapons? Of course, he knew that it was random, but...it seemed like fate wanted him to know. It was simply lady luck that Mayumi sat behind him, a friend of Noriko's possibly, who was...actually, as insensitive as it was, Akamatsu wasn't sure what went on between Noriko and Shuuya. But the chances were, she wouldn't want to fight. Did anyone in here actually contemplate the act of killing their friends?
Going to the bottom of the page, he wrote in legible letters, a note meant only for the girl behind him.
I don't want to fight. I don't want to kill. Please, meet me at the most northern part of the island. Please.
He it up to his face, in a feign act to read the paper again, exposing it to the girl behind him. He hoped she read it. But even if she did, would she really want to spend her last possible days with a doofus like him? He didn't want to play this game, he didn't want to kill anybody...he just didn't want to be alone.
After holding it up for 5 seconds, he brought it down again, and slowly and methodically started to blacked the bottom line of the paper, on both sides. On the other side of the paper, he started writing again.
I'm sorry Noriko
I'm sorry Niida
I'm sorry Mayumi
I'm sorry Megumi
I'm sorry...
*
Yuko knew that she wouldn't be killed if she followed instructions. She wrote down the first name she could think of, and followed suit with the rest of the class until the list was finished. Of course, they were only words. Words didn't mean anything unless there was a brute force behind it. And she swore on her life that she would never kill one of her friends, her classmates, or even one of the bad boys who always hurt people. Even though they probably deserved it, she didn't think they deserved to die here, of all places.
Yuko looked around the classroom, trying desperately to get someone's attention, grab their eyes.
Izumi Kanai stared at Kyoichi as he sniffled like a little child. “What a crybaby.” She thought just as Shuya stood up.
What was Shuya doing?
...Oh. Oh. Shit. Maybe this wasn't a dream after all.
Izumi slumped in her seat as the paper and pencil was set down on her desk. Now she was upset and definitely confused. Even though she realized that this wasn't a joke, she still felt less than impressed. She bit her lip as she took the pencil. Izumi didn't have it in her to actually write "I will kill *so and so*" but she started to scribble names. Mindlessly of course, but even then she was afraid.
~
Kazushi Niida was holding his head down over his desk. What was he going to do?! He couldn't KILL anyone! He wouldn't even have the nerve to smash a fly with his hand! He rocked back in forth in his seat, his eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other. The rest of the kids in this classroom appeared just as scared as Kazushi did, especially after Shuya Nanahara was killed. Kazushi never really liked Shuya, the little asshole, but he felt a twinge of pain at his loss. Actually his pain had little to do with Shuya but more to do with the ever growing reality of his own situation. He was in some serious shit right now.
The piece of paper and the pencil came across to him, but he didn't realize it right away. When he did, he stared at the paper like it was a foreign animal, or an alien. He knew what he was supposed to do. He knew what the fat man in the suit told him to do. Kazushi didn't move to do it though.
He wanted to live but he was scared. Writing on that paper would bring the full realization that he was going to kill someone. This scared him because he didn't WANT to die. He just wanted to go home.
No. No Kazushi, be a man. You can't go home, not now. You can go home when you win.
The little voice in Kazushi's head gave him comfort. Yes. Yes, Kazushi was capable!
Write those names down. No remorse.
And once he finally thought this, he began to write. His grip on the pencil was strong and unyielding, and he wrote the names clearly and bluntly. As though he were writing a hitlist. Each name hurt, each name burned the inside of his skin but he ignored the pain.
"I will kill Yoshitoku Kuninobu."
"I will kill Kazuhiko Yamamoto.
I will kill Yukie Utsumi."
Kazushi hesitated with the next one that popped in his head. He forced his hand to write, putting emphasis on then name.
"I will kill Takako Chigusa."
~
Chigusa was surprised when she saw the exact moment that Shuya Nanahara, boy 15, leaped out of his desk. She had not realized who it was at first but she caught on quickly. Considering that the fat man Kamon had just mentioned Kuninobu – the both of them were friends, Chigusa remembered vaguely – it was apparent that what he said upset Yoshi. Orphanage bitch…oh yes, they were orphans weren’t they?
Takako stayed silent as she watched the murder of Shuuya Nanahara, the red sea of blood stinging her eyes in the most unplesant of manners out of him. His whole chest was coated in a canvas of blood, mixing and twisting into a black sticky mess that made Takako want to vomit her lungs out. She couldn't look away though. How could she? Looking away would show weakness, and in a life or death situation such as this you had to look tough. It was sad - Shuuya Nanahara was one of the few kids in her class that didn't get on her nerves. He was no saint but it wasn't like that really mattered. Shuuya didn't deserve to die. Perhaps his stupidity deserved it but no one could blame him for trying.
The paper finally arrived at her desk, and Chigusa hesitated. There was no way in hell that she was going to write all those names down. No way. But she knew what she could do with that paper. She scribbled on a little message, and looked passively at Hiroki, hopping that he was looking at her too. He would have to know what she was going to pass to him for it to work. Hopefully he would get the hint.
If I'm going to pass this to him, she thought to herself, he's going to have to know or else it'll be obvious. Come on Sugimura. Look over here, for me.
What was Shuya doing?
...Oh. Oh. Shit. Maybe this wasn't a dream after all.
Izumi slumped in her seat as the paper and pencil was set down on her desk. Now she was upset and definitely confused. Even though she realized that this wasn't a joke, she still felt less than impressed. She bit her lip as she took the pencil. Izumi didn't have it in her to actually write "I will kill *so and so*" but she started to scribble names. Mindlessly of course, but even then she was afraid.
~
Kazushi Niida was holding his head down over his desk. What was he going to do?! He couldn't KILL anyone! He wouldn't even have the nerve to smash a fly with his hand! He rocked back in forth in his seat, his eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other. The rest of the kids in this classroom appeared just as scared as Kazushi did, especially after Shuya Nanahara was killed. Kazushi never really liked Shuya, the little asshole, but he felt a twinge of pain at his loss. Actually his pain had little to do with Shuya but more to do with the ever growing reality of his own situation. He was in some serious shit right now.
The piece of paper and the pencil came across to him, but he didn't realize it right away. When he did, he stared at the paper like it was a foreign animal, or an alien. He knew what he was supposed to do. He knew what the fat man in the suit told him to do. Kazushi didn't move to do it though.
He wanted to live but he was scared. Writing on that paper would bring the full realization that he was going to kill someone. This scared him because he didn't WANT to die. He just wanted to go home.
No. No Kazushi, be a man. You can't go home, not now. You can go home when you win.
The little voice in Kazushi's head gave him comfort. Yes. Yes, Kazushi was capable!
Write those names down. No remorse.
And once he finally thought this, he began to write. His grip on the pencil was strong and unyielding, and he wrote the names clearly and bluntly. As though he were writing a hitlist. Each name hurt, each name burned the inside of his skin but he ignored the pain.
"I will kill Yoshitoku Kuninobu."
"I will kill Kazuhiko Yamamoto.
I will kill Yukie Utsumi."
Kazushi hesitated with the next one that popped in his head. He forced his hand to write, putting emphasis on then name.
"I will kill Takako Chigusa."
~
Chigusa was surprised when she saw the exact moment that Shuya Nanahara, boy 15, leaped out of his desk. She had not realized who it was at first but she caught on quickly. Considering that the fat man Kamon had just mentioned Kuninobu – the both of them were friends, Chigusa remembered vaguely – it was apparent that what he said upset Yoshi. Orphanage bitch…oh yes, they were orphans weren’t they?
Takako stayed silent as she watched the murder of Shuuya Nanahara, the red sea of blood stinging her eyes in the most unplesant of manners out of him. His whole chest was coated in a canvas of blood, mixing and twisting into a black sticky mess that made Takako want to vomit her lungs out. She couldn't look away though. How could she? Looking away would show weakness, and in a life or death situation such as this you had to look tough. It was sad - Shuuya Nanahara was one of the few kids in her class that didn't get on her nerves. He was no saint but it wasn't like that really mattered. Shuuya didn't deserve to die. Perhaps his stupidity deserved it but no one could blame him for trying.
The paper finally arrived at her desk, and Chigusa hesitated. There was no way in hell that she was going to write all those names down. No way. But she knew what she could do with that paper. She scribbled on a little message, and looked passively at Hiroki, hopping that he was looking at her too. He would have to know what she was going to pass to him for it to work. Hopefully he would get the hint.
If I'm going to pass this to him, she thought to herself, he's going to have to know or else it'll be obvious. Come on Sugimura. Look over here, for me.
Mitsuko Souma, girl eleven, woke from her gas-induced slumber, wiping at her eyes as she came out of her sleeping state. As her consciousness returned to her however, so did her senses: within moments she it became obvious to her that she wasn’t on the school trip any more: there had been a change in plans.
She found herself in a large classroom, surrounded by her classmates. They all looked as confused as she was, and half of them looked like they could freak out into a panic at any second. Looking at the front of the class, she could tell why: there stood a group of soldiers, or at least that’s what their outfits would say. More importantly, they were all heavily armed, and did not look to be friendly. Stood straight in the centre of the room, in front of a large chalkboard, was a fat round man with a huge grin plastered across his face, and upon second glances, she saw the pistol glinting at his waist, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.
His words came in loud and clear to Mitsuko, even if they seemed so unreal; she was in the program? How could that be true? The odds of that were so tiny! Feeling her face clam up tightly, Mitsuko continued listening to the man who happily announced her death sentence. Not seconds later, Kyoichi Motobuchi had stood up and had started begging for his life; none of theirs of course, just his own. Fucking self-centred nerd; never did seem to see anything past his own grades.
It was practically a pleasure to see him get shot down, before Mitsuko remembered where she was. If he couldn’t get out, there didn’t seem to be a chance that she’d avoid the Program either. She’d seen it on television: the blood; the massacres, all of which seemed to be waiting for her. Only one survives.
Her contemplation was broken by a yell: Shuuya Nanahara (Rock ‘n’ Roll Star; not worth my time) was making a mad dash for the front, his intention being clear: he was a dead man. Mitsuko’s heart stopped as she saw the crazed boy attack suicidally, her fist tightened in suspense; watching would’ve been bad enough, if she hadn’t seen Hirono Shimizu make a jump to stop Shuuya; shit, Hirono! She couldn't die too, not this soon! She was part of her gang! Her and Yoshimi, they were hers!
Only one survives, remember? a tiny voice in her head squeaked out. As the words entered her thoughts, Mitsuko began to think: maybe it wasn’t so bad if they both ended up dead. Maybe it'd just make her life easier. Maybe, just maybe, it'd be great if they both got shot down right now.
Almost like she had wished it on, moments later Shuuya was lying in a pool of his own blood, dead, his body riddled with cold hard bullets. For a moment, it looked like Hirono hadn't made it either, but she could quickly spy her alive, if injured. Easy target now though, if she's injured. Only one survives.
Mitsuko watched on silently, mentally acknowledging the other students moving to Shuuya’s corpse. She was a little surprised that they hadn’t been shot down dead within seconds and in a way a little bit saddened. It wasn’t the end of the world though; First up was Yukie Utsumi: class rep. Overcome with horror at Nanahara's gunning down, she had burst into tears whilst cradling her corpse; hardly her problem. The little politician could do whatever the fuck she wanted, for all Mitsuko was concerned, and if she’d just been put out of her misery whilst coddling Elvis’ dead corpse, it’d have hardly made a difference. The other character at the funeral was Shinji, the basketball star: They said he was a super-stud, but he never seemed interested in her. Whatever, he wasn’t worth any consideration either; probably all jock and no finesse. He did help Hirono up from under Shuuya's body though, causing a shred of concern to flick through Mitsuko: what if she teamed up with him out of gratitude? They'd make a dangerous combo. Still, Hirono teaming up with someone? Not fucking likely, as long as she was around.
As the pencil and paper clacked onto her table, Mitsuko listened to the next set of instructions, and picked up the pencil: her face resolute. She’d already made up her mind, she was going to play. Play to win. Only one survives.
The doll on her desk watched her hand as she wrote down names of her classmate, one after the other. I will kill Shinji Mimura. I will kill Hirono Shimizu. I will kill Yoshimi Yahagi. I will kill Kyoichi Motobuchi. I will kill Yukie Utsumi. I will kill.
It wasn’t a choice, it was just life. Only one survives in the end. Only one survives.
Mitsuko Souma, girl eleven, named each and every one of her classmates on that sheet. One, by, one.
She found herself in a large classroom, surrounded by her classmates. They all looked as confused as she was, and half of them looked like they could freak out into a panic at any second. Looking at the front of the class, she could tell why: there stood a group of soldiers, or at least that’s what their outfits would say. More importantly, they were all heavily armed, and did not look to be friendly. Stood straight in the centre of the room, in front of a large chalkboard, was a fat round man with a huge grin plastered across his face, and upon second glances, she saw the pistol glinting at his waist, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.
His words came in loud and clear to Mitsuko, even if they seemed so unreal; she was in the program? How could that be true? The odds of that were so tiny! Feeling her face clam up tightly, Mitsuko continued listening to the man who happily announced her death sentence. Not seconds later, Kyoichi Motobuchi had stood up and had started begging for his life; none of theirs of course, just his own. Fucking self-centred nerd; never did seem to see anything past his own grades.
It was practically a pleasure to see him get shot down, before Mitsuko remembered where she was. If he couldn’t get out, there didn’t seem to be a chance that she’d avoid the Program either. She’d seen it on television: the blood; the massacres, all of which seemed to be waiting for her. Only one survives.
Her contemplation was broken by a yell: Shuuya Nanahara (Rock ‘n’ Roll Star; not worth my time) was making a mad dash for the front, his intention being clear: he was a dead man. Mitsuko’s heart stopped as she saw the crazed boy attack suicidally, her fist tightened in suspense; watching would’ve been bad enough, if she hadn’t seen Hirono Shimizu make a jump to stop Shuuya; shit, Hirono! She couldn't die too, not this soon! She was part of her gang! Her and Yoshimi, they were hers!
Only one survives, remember? a tiny voice in her head squeaked out. As the words entered her thoughts, Mitsuko began to think: maybe it wasn’t so bad if they both ended up dead. Maybe it'd just make her life easier. Maybe, just maybe, it'd be great if they both got shot down right now.
Almost like she had wished it on, moments later Shuuya was lying in a pool of his own blood, dead, his body riddled with cold hard bullets. For a moment, it looked like Hirono hadn't made it either, but she could quickly spy her alive, if injured. Easy target now though, if she's injured. Only one survives.
Mitsuko watched on silently, mentally acknowledging the other students moving to Shuuya’s corpse. She was a little surprised that they hadn’t been shot down dead within seconds and in a way a little bit saddened. It wasn’t the end of the world though; First up was Yukie Utsumi: class rep. Overcome with horror at Nanahara's gunning down, she had burst into tears whilst cradling her corpse; hardly her problem. The little politician could do whatever the fuck she wanted, for all Mitsuko was concerned, and if she’d just been put out of her misery whilst coddling Elvis’ dead corpse, it’d have hardly made a difference. The other character at the funeral was Shinji, the basketball star: They said he was a super-stud, but he never seemed interested in her. Whatever, he wasn’t worth any consideration either; probably all jock and no finesse. He did help Hirono up from under Shuuya's body though, causing a shred of concern to flick through Mitsuko: what if she teamed up with him out of gratitude? They'd make a dangerous combo. Still, Hirono teaming up with someone? Not fucking likely, as long as she was around.
As the pencil and paper clacked onto her table, Mitsuko listened to the next set of instructions, and picked up the pencil: her face resolute. She’d already made up her mind, she was going to play. Play to win. Only one survives.
The doll on her desk watched her hand as she wrote down names of her classmate, one after the other. I will kill Shinji Mimura. I will kill Hirono Shimizu. I will kill Yoshimi Yahagi. I will kill Kyoichi Motobuchi. I will kill Yukie Utsumi. I will kill.
It wasn’t a choice, it was just life. Only one survives in the end. Only one survives.
Mitsuko Souma, girl eleven, named each and every one of her classmates on that sheet. One, by, one.
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
((Note: I want to get this going sometime tomorrow, so if you want to set something up with regards to notes... get your skates on)).
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Grim Wolf*
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Wed Aug 22, 2018 6:36 pm
Yoshi didn't make a move, and as soon as Kamon had his soldiers passing out papers Hiroki lowered his hands. Nothing I can do now, even if he decides to do something
(brave)
stupid.. He took the paper and studied it for a moment, heavy eyebrows flexing. He could smell it--the salty, cloying smell of blood. It was a smell he'd only known for himself--a smell from his upper lip, from the blood that had come fountaining out of his nose on two occasions of sparring with his master. Now it was thick in the air.
Blood in the air. Shuuya's blood.
God...
He was staring at the paper, his eyes narrowed into slits. He couldn't bring himself to write a single word. Whatever he contemplated, he only saw the bullets making hammerblows into Shuuya' flesh, and occasionally replaced by others--by Shinji, by Takako, by Kayoko...
Ah, God...
He looked up, and there was Takako, her eyes flashing to meet his. Her fingers were curled around a piece of paper. He swallowed, keeping his gaze fixed on her and ignoring the bloody mess that was Shuuya Nanahara on the ground.
He tapped his nose. What, Taka? What do you want me to know?
Satomi Noda wrote.
She could think of nothing else to do. They put a piece of paper in her hands, stepping carelessly through Shuuya's blood to do so. She swallowed as bile rose, thick in her throat, and then swallowed again to force it down. They gave her orders--write the name of a classmate.
She wrote. Nothing quite like being afraid for your own life to enforce obedience.
As she wrote, a sense of calm reasserted itself. Her stomach was still quivering with nausea, as the smell of intermingled B.O. and blood (Is that what I'll smell like, when I die?) filled the air around her. But she was getting herself more firmly under control.
When she got to Shuuya's name, she paused. Her fingers were trembling around her pencil, and her eyes flitted towards Shu's body without her consent. Her control, to her great surprise, did not falter; indeed, it seemed to grow more solid, more pervasive.
Don't rock the boat yet, Satomi. You'll get your chance, and in the meantime...
Remember what happens to those who don't think ahead.
Sho had no desire to write his classmates names on the list.
He liked Kazuo and the others--always had. And not for their looks, either; they were comfortingly honest about themselves, even if that honesty was often brutal for their classmates. But he played little role in helping them abuse their classmates, and only joined in the fighting personally when things were truly bad. They had never done him any wrong, so why shouldn't they have a chance to live out their lives in peace.
But he couldn't avoid writing on his paper. To do that would have been to attract the attention of Mr. Kamon, and of all things Sho wanted to do...
So he wrote. But not their names.
I will survive.
I will survive
I will survive
I will survive
A chance strand of music-
"And as long as I know how to love I'll know I'm still alive-!
He smiled at the absurdity of it, humming to himself as he filled both sides of the page with the phrase.
(brave)
stupid.. He took the paper and studied it for a moment, heavy eyebrows flexing. He could smell it--the salty, cloying smell of blood. It was a smell he'd only known for himself--a smell from his upper lip, from the blood that had come fountaining out of his nose on two occasions of sparring with his master. Now it was thick in the air.
Blood in the air. Shuuya's blood.
God...
He was staring at the paper, his eyes narrowed into slits. He couldn't bring himself to write a single word. Whatever he contemplated, he only saw the bullets making hammerblows into Shuuya' flesh, and occasionally replaced by others--by Shinji, by Takako, by Kayoko...
Ah, God...
He looked up, and there was Takako, her eyes flashing to meet his. Her fingers were curled around a piece of paper. He swallowed, keeping his gaze fixed on her and ignoring the bloody mess that was Shuuya Nanahara on the ground.
He tapped his nose. What, Taka? What do you want me to know?
Satomi Noda wrote.
She could think of nothing else to do. They put a piece of paper in her hands, stepping carelessly through Shuuya's blood to do so. She swallowed as bile rose, thick in her throat, and then swallowed again to force it down. They gave her orders--write the name of a classmate.
She wrote. Nothing quite like being afraid for your own life to enforce obedience.
As she wrote, a sense of calm reasserted itself. Her stomach was still quivering with nausea, as the smell of intermingled B.O. and blood (Is that what I'll smell like, when I die?) filled the air around her. But she was getting herself more firmly under control.
When she got to Shuuya's name, she paused. Her fingers were trembling around her pencil, and her eyes flitted towards Shu's body without her consent. Her control, to her great surprise, did not falter; indeed, it seemed to grow more solid, more pervasive.
Don't rock the boat yet, Satomi. You'll get your chance, and in the meantime...
Remember what happens to those who don't think ahead.
Sho had no desire to write his classmates names on the list.
He liked Kazuo and the others--always had. And not for their looks, either; they were comfortingly honest about themselves, even if that honesty was often brutal for their classmates. But he played little role in helping them abuse their classmates, and only joined in the fighting personally when things were truly bad. They had never done him any wrong, so why shouldn't they have a chance to live out their lives in peace.
But he couldn't avoid writing on his paper. To do that would have been to attract the attention of Mr. Kamon, and of all things Sho wanted to do...
So he wrote. But not their names.
I will survive.
I will survive
I will survive
I will survive
A chance strand of music-
"And as long as I know how to love I'll know I'm still alive-!
He smiled at the absurdity of it, humming to himself as he filled both sides of the page with the phrase.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Grim Wolf. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Hirono Shimizu's right hand remained clenched tight to her injury for the duration of Kamon's lengthy lecture on the details of the program, and by the end of it, her palm was stained red with the blood from it. Although the trench gouged out by the bullet wasn't exactly gushing, it was the most Hirono could ever remember bleeding, which in addition to being disconcerting and naueseating, hadn't started to hurt any less.
As a soldier (was it just Hirono, or was it the same guy that had shot Nanahara and herself?) walked over to her desk and laid down pencil and paper, Hirono stared daggers at him. In response, he merely gave her a smug, superior smile and moved on. That only made Hirono more pissed off, but she bit back any protest. He knew the score and so did she. Guy with gun beat out unarmed schoolgirl every last time, no doubt about it.
When Kamon spoke up regarding what exactly he wanted them to do with the pencil and paper, Hirono's hands clenched involuntarily, causing her to wince at the pressure on the gash in her arm. Write the names of her classmates? This was just too fucking much. Did he not think that he'd drilled 'kill or be killed' into their heads enough already?
Hirono took up the pencil, gingerly looking at her blood soaked sleeve as her hand finally left it. Then, she began to write. Hell if she was going to do as she was told.
Fuck you Kamon...
Fuck you Kamon...
Fuck you Kamon...
~*~
Haruka Tanizawa looked at the pencil she was holding in her right hand, then, at the sheet of paper laid out in front of her. Then back to the pencil again. Could she actually do this? Going through the motions of obedience was one thing, but writing something like that down... it seemed so final, so definite. 'I will kill...' even the thought of writing it made Haruka shudder.
Just cause you write it doesn't mean you've gotta do it.
Even with that thought, Haruka continued to hesitate. This was a declaration of intent. Writing it down might not have made killing a certainty, but it sure pulled it away from the 'no way in hell' territory. Being okay with putting it in writing was the first step towards being okay with doing it for real. But... was there really that much of a choice? Haruka couldn't see that Kamon guy being too pleased with people not doing as they were told, not after what... what had happened to Shuuya.
Ugh... just don't make a fuss, right? Bide your time, keep it cool.
Haruka took a deep breath, and began to write down her classmates names, order of class number. This progressed quite quickly, and before long Haruka found she was already most of the way through the class. In a way, it was frightening.
I will kill Mayumi Tendo.
I will kill Noriko Nakagawa.
I will kill Yu-
Haruka stopped. Her pencil frozen to the page. The process had become automatic after the first couple of names. A memory exercise but now... she found herself almost paralyzed as she reached that name in particular. Haruka crossed out the line, started again.
I will kill Yuka-
No. She couldn't write that. She just couldn't. Yuka Nakagawa was... well, her friend. But that hadn't stopped her writing down Yukie's name, and Yukie was her best friend. Yuka was just... Haruka looked down at her desk. Yuka was... special. Haruka couldn't describe it any way further than that. The way she was always so cheerful and so goofy, the way she smiled...
Now's not the time for that!
Haruka shook her head free of those thoughts and kept writing. But Yuka's name, she skipped.
As a soldier (was it just Hirono, or was it the same guy that had shot Nanahara and herself?) walked over to her desk and laid down pencil and paper, Hirono stared daggers at him. In response, he merely gave her a smug, superior smile and moved on. That only made Hirono more pissed off, but she bit back any protest. He knew the score and so did she. Guy with gun beat out unarmed schoolgirl every last time, no doubt about it.
When Kamon spoke up regarding what exactly he wanted them to do with the pencil and paper, Hirono's hands clenched involuntarily, causing her to wince at the pressure on the gash in her arm. Write the names of her classmates? This was just too fucking much. Did he not think that he'd drilled 'kill or be killed' into their heads enough already?
Hirono took up the pencil, gingerly looking at her blood soaked sleeve as her hand finally left it. Then, she began to write. Hell if she was going to do as she was told.
Fuck you Kamon...
Fuck you Kamon...
Fuck you Kamon...
~*~
Haruka Tanizawa looked at the pencil she was holding in her right hand, then, at the sheet of paper laid out in front of her. Then back to the pencil again. Could she actually do this? Going through the motions of obedience was one thing, but writing something like that down... it seemed so final, so definite. 'I will kill...' even the thought of writing it made Haruka shudder.
Just cause you write it doesn't mean you've gotta do it.
Even with that thought, Haruka continued to hesitate. This was a declaration of intent. Writing it down might not have made killing a certainty, but it sure pulled it away from the 'no way in hell' territory. Being okay with putting it in writing was the first step towards being okay with doing it for real. But... was there really that much of a choice? Haruka couldn't see that Kamon guy being too pleased with people not doing as they were told, not after what... what had happened to Shuuya.
Ugh... just don't make a fuss, right? Bide your time, keep it cool.
Haruka took a deep breath, and began to write down her classmates names, order of class number. This progressed quite quickly, and before long Haruka found she was already most of the way through the class. In a way, it was frightening.
I will kill Mayumi Tendo.
I will kill Noriko Nakagawa.
I will kill Yu-
Haruka stopped. Her pencil frozen to the page. The process had become automatic after the first couple of names. A memory exercise but now... she found herself almost paralyzed as she reached that name in particular. Haruka crossed out the line, started again.
I will kill Yuka-
No. She couldn't write that. She just couldn't. Yuka Nakagawa was... well, her friend. But that hadn't stopped her writing down Yukie's name, and Yukie was her best friend. Yuka was just... Haruka looked down at her desk. Yuka was... special. Haruka couldn't describe it any way further than that. The way she was always so cheerful and so goofy, the way she smiled...
Now's not the time for that!
Haruka shook her head free of those thoughts and kept writing. But Yuka's name, she skipped.
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
After a suitable length of time, Kamon checked his watch and nodded to the soldiers, who went about collecting the papers. Of course he'd seen the occasionally note being passed, but that barely bothered him at all. When friendships and relationships were inevitably betrayed, it made for all the better viewing...
He spent a little time reading the notes, smirking at some of the disobedience, rolling his eyes at some of the acts of defiance. Rarely was it that everybody did as they were told.
"Now class, you really should listen to what teacher tells you to do... That said, an admirable sentiment Master Akamatsu, if ineffectual. Top marks for effort Master Tsukioka... oh, and that was terribly rude Miss Shimizu. You're really going to get yourself into trouble one of these days <3"
Kamon grinned at the class as a whole, receiving fearful looks, glares, and simple blank stares in return.
"Attend. I will now announce the first to leave. As an added bonus, this lucky person will also receive an additional weapon," Kamon looked at Nanahara's body again. "After all, we wouldn't want to waste a good armament on a corpse, would we? Said fortunate individual is..." Kamon made a big show of opening an envelope which contained the name. He withdrew a slip of paper from it. "Female Student #7, Yumiko Kusaka. Step right up."
Shakily, Yumiko rose from her seat, giving an imploring look towards her best friend Yukiko. This meant that Kiko would be leaving next to last... meeting up would be near impossible. Yumiko walked to the front of the class and was handed a daypack by one of the soldiers, who had transferred the contents of Shuuya's bag into it. Yumiko looked back at the class one last time then stumbled out of the door.
"Excellent. Let's keep things moving. Next up, Male Student #8, Yoji Kuramoto..."
((Everyone can now leave. Please keep in mind the order of departure and hence who will still be present when your character is leaving. It would make no sense for Yoshitoki, for example, to be mentioning others in the room, as he's going to be last to go. Keep it quick! The inactivity rules are now officially on the go.))
He spent a little time reading the notes, smirking at some of the disobedience, rolling his eyes at some of the acts of defiance. Rarely was it that everybody did as they were told.
"Now class, you really should listen to what teacher tells you to do... That said, an admirable sentiment Master Akamatsu, if ineffectual. Top marks for effort Master Tsukioka... oh, and that was terribly rude Miss Shimizu. You're really going to get yourself into trouble one of these days <3"
Kamon grinned at the class as a whole, receiving fearful looks, glares, and simple blank stares in return.
"Attend. I will now announce the first to leave. As an added bonus, this lucky person will also receive an additional weapon," Kamon looked at Nanahara's body again. "After all, we wouldn't want to waste a good armament on a corpse, would we? Said fortunate individual is..." Kamon made a big show of opening an envelope which contained the name. He withdrew a slip of paper from it. "Female Student #7, Yumiko Kusaka. Step right up."
Shakily, Yumiko rose from her seat, giving an imploring look towards her best friend Yukiko. This meant that Kiko would be leaving next to last... meeting up would be near impossible. Yumiko walked to the front of the class and was handed a daypack by one of the soldiers, who had transferred the contents of Shuuya's bag into it. Yumiko looked back at the class one last time then stumbled out of the door.
"Excellent. Let's keep things moving. Next up, Male Student #8, Yoji Kuramoto..."
((Everyone can now leave. Please keep in mind the order of departure and hence who will still be present when your character is leaving. It would make no sense for Yoshitoki, for example, to be mentioning others in the room, as he's going to be last to go. Keep it quick! The inactivity rules are now officially on the go.))