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This game is a work of the imagination. All similarities to real persons or events are purely coincidental. Do you accept this as fact? > No. > Yes. Very well. Then you may begin your journey to our shared destination...      Intro Music: First BloodLet's go. Lights pulse with the beat against a dark background over exterior detail shots of a cherry red 1958 Plymouth Fury, being polished and worked on by a young woman revealed eventually to be Kaede Yakumo, completely with freeze frame and name as if she was an actress in a cheap TV series, who opens and puts in the keys to the ignition, a pair of ivory dice with green snake eyes hanging from the chain. With the first wailing of the guitar, the headlights flip on and reveal seven silhouetted figures standing in front, before the "screen" is split as with a cut. As the lightning strikes you have to start the fight... The screen opens to see Kaito Iwasaki holding his index and middle finger together with the cutting motion, sweeping it around with a grin as formless Shadows all around and split, falling apart bloodily against a stylized teal background, freeze frame like Kaede and all, his shadow looming behind him with devilish horns, before the screen splits again. You're shiftin' gears, you're punishing, you step through the night... The expressionless face of Sayuri Hisakawa pans through the screen, zooming out and then turning to look over her shoulder at a ornate wall mirror with her reflection dripping in blood, with a face contorted in pleasure, fingers touching their cheeks with a cheap-looking tiara on their head, freeze framing for the character name, before the screen cracks and breaks through to the next scene. I know you, I know you... Lit in a sickly yellow light, a dinner party with a full spread is laid out, but the guests one by one fall face first into their plates, which is infested with wriggling maggots that seem to cover them as well, as we move towards the end and see at the head of the table Chiyoko Satou sipping from a flute of champagne with an impassive look over the proceedings during her freeze frame, before an abrupt perspective and color shift. Know that there's a thunder deep inside of you... Knocked back by an unseen force and hitting a brick wall that cracks, Takeshi Fukumoto picks himself back together, bruises showing and blood trickling from his nose, grinning as he grips onto his arm for the freeze frame with his name card like the others. After the freeze frame, we zoom to his face, and show his mouth full of sharp teeth, opening his mouth and "eating" the camera, plunging it into a purple screen wipe. It makes you think it's all a dream, it cannot be true... Comparatively devoid of action or anything within the empty space, Mako Deguchi stands in a featureless violet void, holding a bunch of party balloons of every other color, though a cut of the camera moves in from a closer perspective, standing there with her little ahoge forelock sticking out, before letting out a silent laugh and holding out one of the balloons, colored black, to the camera for her freeze frame. We'll inhale, we'll inhale... Completely black like the balloon, a bright neon green light shines against the face of Jiro Kurokawa, a light that comes from a syringe filled with the liquid. His face seems kindly there revealed with his eyes behind the glasses, but we zoome out and the expression seems different from this perspective, a freeze frame and name card as the light reflects off his glasses, as he injects the fluid into an unseen subject. Just follow me and go! Standing translucent in a crowd, the color-drained Kokoro Ootori stares determined at the camera for her freeze frame and name card, before floating upward and holding out her arms, revealing what appear to be seven keys, all fitting into phantasmal locks of some sort and becoming different elemental manifestations of power, which turn into a circle, or a wheel as they wipe the frame for us with the music, orange and indigo. Just follow me and go! The haze of orange and indigo turns as if in clouds that are broken through by the bow of a great hulking battleship tinged blue, with the name Karon Maron emblazoned on its prow. We rush through the empty decks and gunnery stations up to the bridge, seeing the figure of Captain Walton at the helm at an antique ship's wheel, and past his shoulder to see in the console chair, hands folded, the familiar figure of Igor smiling and nodding to the music. It's not known what we'll do, they can break your heart... Two female figures in outrageous clothing and colors stand back to back, their hands clasped and looking the opposite directions in a city intersection lit by neon in either direction as the camera pans up, revealing both Momoka Ueno and Kiyoko Kawasaki, Kiyoko with a laughing smile and Momoka with a sad frown, like comedy and tragedy masks. Without love, without my desire... A hospital bed with an emaciated woman with faded red hair and all sorts of wires and tubes connected to her body. Overlooking her body we see a severe, small woman with intense brown eyes and some kind of badge that has a lyre on it (and the name ORPHEUS) look up to the camera and point, and filing in behind her is a squad of commandos wearing suits and strange masks that make them look almost inhuman. I see a thing that is not real but I'm still alive... In a scene that is homage to Ghostbusters, a pillar of green light erupts over the city line of Tokyo (from its southwestern side -- where real-life Shimokitazawa would be located) and spreads out in streams in various locations with ghoulish apparitions, with ghosts shuffling out of the subway... I know you... A ghastly Slime oozes out from a vending machine, slurping from an aluminum can, while an Incubus in a Japanese taxi driver uniform drives their green cab into the screen for the wipe. I know you! In an alleyway a disheveled man shuffles forward and then rears up, revealing a face decorated with red tape and fake bunny ears, holding his finger to his head like a gun and gesturing as if to shoot, while a red-jacketed being appears behind him with two long revolvers and dancing chains, with one staring eye in its blood-soaked bag-covered head stares forward, firing at the screen with the bullet spinning. And when the power comes from deep within... The spinning bullet becomes the spinning top of a circus tent, revealing the city streets of Tokyo beneath it having transformed into some kind of dark carnival, with grotesque and morbid floats and displays, and phantasmagoric attractions lining each way as we move down into the thick of it. I never ran, this story that will never begin... Three rings in the circus are revealed when the tent flaps are opened up. Spotlights appear and reveal each one's ringmaster at the center, one at a time in rapid succession. The first is a wide-eyed blonde man in a suit with some kind of silhouette of an eight-headed beast wrapped around him. The second is a empty-eyed scarred young woman flanked by the eight wings of some terrible, dragon-like monster. We'll inhale... The third and final ring is occupied by a pale and golden-eyed young man in goth clothing, who has no monster accompanying him but holds a tarot card between his fingers, and his shadow is long and in the shape of an inverted cross. Behind the golden-eyed boy in the circus ten a spectral gate begins to form, flanked by a pyramid, reminiscent of a certain familiar design, with the doors slowly opening to some ethereal ghostly light. We'll inhale, Red streaks fall across the screen, wiping it with blood as a crimson-garbed figure with a skull-like face, green gems for eyes, pale decolletage and a chalice from which she pours the blood looks on with dim amusement. Just follow me and go! The red of the blood filling the screen shifts in tone to match the fire emanating from the lamp of Jack O'Lantern who looks out into the camera, and holds it outwards into a spout of flame that wipes ot the next scene. Just follow me and go! We have our heroes all standing on some sort of circular, spinning plane, standing in an assorted array in their color-coordinated sailor uniforms, staring up at the black all around them in a mixture of different emotions, but all resolve against it as they are spun along what is revealed to be a roulette wheel. This time know when we'll do... We follow the gaze of the heroes and find that the roulette table is surrounded by seven figures that are betting on the wagers, each wearing a cloak of a different culture, and each one as skeletal as the last. Red, white, black, gray, and pale. One other is horned, while the last is headless. The dealer at the table is a golden Buddha, who holds a shining lotus that opens up and reveals the roulette wheel again and the heroes spinning on it as it looks down. They can break your heart again... The roulette wheel transforms in its spin into a Wheel of Samsara, which looks not unlike a ship's wheel as well. Soon enough, it turns into the wheel of a car, and we cut to see once again the Plymouth Fury that Kaede was polishing at the beginning, going down a stylized highway against a dark indigo landscape. The top is down, making it a convertible. Sayuri is in the passenger seat looking into the distance with her chin in hand, while Chiyoko is backseat driving behind Kaede while Jiro sits next to her, and Mako is in between both of them with that bunch of balloons, streaming along with them, and waving at Kaito who follows alongside in a motorcycle. Kaede looks out to the side, and seems to notice something, and waves, and we turn to see they are going alongside an orange colored ocean. Powering along in the wake is a fishing boat, with the name "ORCA" on its stern, on which Takeshi sits with a cigarette in his mouth, noticing the wave and waving back with a small smile. We return to the shot of Kaede, who focuses and speeds up, zooming back out and watching them rush along the highway, towards the pulsing beacon of a lighthouse in the distant horizon, with the outline of a black sun behind it. That's enough. Smash cut to title screen.  Music Ends.Access the OOC Thread here. Access the game spreadsheet here. Access the dice roller here. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 01:26 on May 5, 2017 |
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 Prelude Start: Shimokita After Dark, 7 May 20xx (Everyone) Incidental Music: ScanlinesThe title zooms in and wipes, revealing to us the surprisingly empty early night streets of Shimokita. The sun has just gone down, but nobody is going through their usual circuits through the kitschy stores and wild cafes. Here towards the edge of the neighborhood, where franchise chains have begun to encroach on the gentrifying townscape, there's a VHS rental store on the second story of a line of shops. Climbing up the stairs and using the aluminum rail, you can open the barred glass door and enter into something a little out of this world. Filled with movie memorabilia and with a mother-lode of collected videotapes for home video, it is increasingly an anachronistic sight in modern day 20XX Japan. Midori-san sits reading a paperback chiller behind his curiously tinted sunglasses, but the scene at the front of the store is not really our concern. Rather, it's in the back area, the curtained off "screening room" where every two Sundays a group of young people called the Panic Club met in order to watch horror movies of varying merit, though that is not why they are meeting today. Maybe that is part of it, out of a misguided feeling of continuity, but they now share something more than a hobby and interest. Over the past week, all of them have had a unique experience, yet one only the others can fully relate to: They all died. And for the most part, all of them came back to the land of the living, albeit with a new passenger. Music Changes: Gearing UpIt happened on different days, and in different ways, all leading up to this day, and whether there's any connection at all, they'll have to find it themselves. Surely, though, it couldn't have been a coincidence, right? Who called this meeting, anyway? Many of you missed several days of work, or otherwise hadn't been able to be contacted in the last week. Maybe there'd been some texts, but this is the first time you've been seeing each other like this, and it's a bit of an unsettling feeling, but right now you've found out that maybe you aren't alone in having this happen to you. Doesn't it feel like there's some kind of malevolent force at work? Try to remember... Two weeks ago, you met together as a full group for the usual Fright Night. It was a very special occasion thanks to someone's hard work, where either someone convinced Midori-san, or otherwise "acquired" from his collection a box of bootleg videotapes with all sorts of strange things on them. Some of it was amateur hour home video horror. Some of it was on the level of Ghast Hunters. Still, you've all heard legends of cursed videotapes. A rumor going around the store was that Midori-san had a videotape that if you watched, you'd soon die within a week, which sounded like a movie plot. Whatever the legend, it didn't get tested, because when you all found the videotape at the bottom of the box, unmarked save for a sticker that says "do not watch", as opposed to the more meticulously documented footage elsewhere, nobody actually cared to watch it, whether out of fatigue from the rather mixed lead-up, or maybe out of genuine concern. Was that just a red herring? Was it one of the other tapes? You really don't know, but you have to figure it out, right? Especially with your new powers... Well, we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? In a way that almost uncannily resembles a ship's bridge in some half-remembered dream, each of you have claimed a part of this screening room as part of your identity, as if this is some kind of school clubhouse. Most of you don't hang out together regularly, and have other circles of friends (which accounts in part for only just now realizing that you all shared this morbid experience), but this still has become kind of a third home, after your real one, and of course, the Seven-to-Seven. Some of you might even use this as a staging point for your other hobbies, all with the tacit permission of Midori-san, who isn't getting many customers anyway. Where are you seated, and what are you doing? How do you look after, well, you died? And where to start? The clock is ticking, maybe fifteen after seven. The beginning is as good a place as any. And for all of you, you realize it connects with that one place that already defines you: The convenience store.  One week ago, just seven days after you all last met...   Scene: Seven-to-Seven, Backroom (Kokoro) Incidental Music: Sound WorldYou woke up. It really wasn't much more complicated than that. You were stirred by a low rumbling sound, or a feeling on your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the incandescent lights hanging over the stockroom. Your body was cold, perhaps from laying down on the hard linoleum floor. Your body ached, with pain shooting through with every movement that you did try to make, but you were able to pick yourself up. While your mind swam, you took stock of where you were. You couldn't remember how you got there. Did you pass out while at work? In fact, you can't remember much of anything at all, definitely not for the last twenty-four hours at least. You see a clock and it's a little after 9:00 PM. What is the last thing you remember? Once you've collected yourself together, you notice that the employees only door into the backroom is open, so looking to see if any of your co-workers are around that can help you get your bearings straight, you walk through and take a look around. You see there are a few customers milling around, and even Ueno-san, the new hire, working at the cash register, looking bored out of her mind, while Ikeda-san, the manager, is shaking hands with a laughing customer. You notice that you aren't wearing your work clothes. What exactly is going on? You try to get someones attention. Who do you try to get the attention of, and how? Whatever you do, however, it's for naught. It's like you are invisible, and no one hears you. In fact, no one reacts to your presence at all, and a sense of dread begins to creep across you, at which point you start notice things are a little strange. When you speak, the sounds seem to echo a little more. The jingles of the convenience store, so omnipresent otherwise, are muted, while people's voices are almost sussurous. There's hardly any color in the background of things, except for things here and there that have piercing, almost intense coloring, including people, who seem more saturated and vibrant than before, which only serves to contrast with your own self, almost devoid of any color at all. That's right, you're a ghost. You're already dead, and you don't know how. What do you do?   Scene: Some Distant Memory (Chiyoko) Incidental Music: Horizon"It's terminal, Satou-san." Words that have followed you since that very day. Years of taking care of someone else, knowing that they were going to die, gave you a unique perspective on life and death. Maybe that's what pushed you to marry Kenji so early. It did end up being what tore you apart afterwards. This however was a new sensation. The knowledge that you, yourself, were going to die, and it would be a matter of years, not decades, was the most bitter pill to swallow after all you had taken on. You had a young daughter to take care of, and you thought you were still young. Just like before, the professionals could only provide you treatments, not cures. How did you react? "Satou-san..." Maybe this is why you stopped fighting after a while in the court cases. You know in your heart Kenji didn't have the stomach to try and take your child away from you, but you didn't have the spirit you normally would have. He was shocked, really, when things turned out as they did. You seemed, to everyone else, to be discarding a burden. You hadn't told either of them, especially after what had happened between you and Kenji. You also weren't going to commit yourself to a battery of dehumanizing tests and experimental treatment. You weren't going to put Kaede through it. You were going to live the life you had left. Or maybe that was all after the fact justification. Ultimately, why did you choose that path? "Satou-san...!" You realize you are in another place. Scene: In the Now, the Seven-to-Seven (Chiyoko) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerMomoka Ueno is there, across the counter from you at the cash register, looking at first more than a little concerned, though with that edge of frustration she's always able to masterfully tinge her customer service face with. Even so, her concern is a genuine one, her heterochromatic eyes blinking as she regards you. "Are you okay, Satou-san? Do you need to see a doctor?" The last thing you want to see is a doctor, but she mimes at wiping at her nose as covertly as you can, as you notice that you've been holding up the line, which stretches about three people along the way. You are bleeding from your nose, and you feel a terrible twisting pain in your abdomen. You have a yellowish, pale pallor. You had a terrible reaction to something, but what was it? What are you even here for now? You see on your watch that it's a little before nine o'clock. What items are in your basket? You've not been doing so well these last few weeks, but it's all struck at once now, yet here you are, in front of everyone else. Looking weak. What do you do?   Scene: Shift Change, the Seven-to-Seven (Sayuri) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerIt has been a long shift. You've been working harder than you usually do, putting in more hours even as school begins to start in earnest. In part, it's so you have an excuse to turn Emiko down when she asks for your help for her student council election business. She wants you to be her secretary, which is something you'd be pretty good at, but it also sounds completely useless to you. She didn't even ask you to be vice-president, and you're her best friend. It's like she doesn't even really care, but you already knew that. There may be more to it, however. Is there any other reason you may want to be putting more hours at work? That being said, it's almost nine and time for you to get out of here. You already see Ueno coming in and getting ready to take over for you at the register, which is the only time you're ever happy to see her. On one hand her being distant makes her a fine co-worker, but you can sense it instinctually, the complete lack of regard she has for the rest of you. You're dealing with your last customer though, and needn't worry too much about it. Nakao-san is a regular, a young sculptor that works for the local Christian church, though he looks more like a handsome and not overworked version of Ikki-san, more salaryman than artist. He has a calm smile and is always effortlessly polite. Unlike other people, you can read him easily, and he doesn't bother with the simple pleasantries. Simply in and out, which is fine by you. "Take care," is all he says as he takes his bag and leaves, just as Momoka files in behind the counter, tying her apron behind her and eyeing Nakao-san somewhat suspiciously. With the other younger employees you're sure she's been talking about the rest of you and the "weirdo club," so whenever she gives you her false smile, it feels all the less sincere. She's almost as nosy as Kokoro, Emiko's sister and one of the other members of the Panic Club, but doesn't have the teen detective moxie element working for her and always seems offended when you point it out, unlike Kokoro. Her eyes follow Nakao out to where he's leaving, before she asks, "You get a good look at our creeper outside, Hisakawa?" Music Changes: Are You SureOf course she doesn't mean Nakao-san. You know exactly who she means. About three hours ago, a homeless man started loitering outside. He's a bit young but disheveled with obvious, crooked tooth. He begged for change from a few customers and otherwise got threatened to have the police get called on him and got his harassment met with much the same, but he hasn't left. Then he started staring, looking through the windows of the convenience store as if looking for something in particular. Eventually, his eyes met yours, and it was a deeply unsettling feeling, so you've just been studiously pretending he doesn't exist until then. Soon enough, he won't be your problem, as it's time for you to go home, but he's still out there, standing at the front entrance. What do you do?   Scene: Waiting Room, the Heaven Smiles Church (Mako) Incidental Music: Sounds for the SupermarketYou kind of wish you were at the Seven-to-Seven right about now. It's getting dark and your parents have been away for nearly an hour now. You came to this dingy looking converted clinic, one of the places rented out by the organization (it changes frequently), which is actually just down the road from where you usually hang out on your way back home from primary school. But this is boring. The music playing in the lobby kind of reminds you of the jingles back there, except that it's without the same kind of joy to it. It kind makes you feel like you are the produce on the shelves, sitting here in a cold room. This is apparently a special event for your parents as they are on the ascension track and your father seemed very excited, thinking it meant higher sales opportunities for the organization's scheme. Your mother just kind of nodded, not turning away from her phone. They left you behind here with a few others waiting. Maybe you recognize someone here that's also with the Smiles, that you can talk to. You have to do something to pass the time. Do you recognize and talk to anyone here, or amuse yourself somehow? It's not like you even have the choice like you normally do to walk out. The people here are usually very nice, and their masks still have smiles and all, but there's someone there to mind and watch you, and maybe one or two other children. Who was it that was minding you? You likely recognize who they were, and that something was a little different today. A lot of things were different today. It's almost nine, and while your parents don't really give you a bedtime, they at least like to pretend to. What's going on? That's when you feel it. Music Changes: Black RainbowIt's a shaking through your heart, some kind of tell you know all too well. You can feel it like the feeling of electricity through the air. It's interesting, but in a way you can't be sure of. Maybe you're not scared, but it's certainly a little alarming. You feel a power that's coming from down that hallway, at the closed door at the end your mother and father disappeared behind, from which only occasionally you heard the dimmest of chanting when you cared to strain. Maybe you can get an excuse by asking to go to the bathroom, or something else, but you know something is beyond that door, something that's growing. What do you do?   Scene: Tail End of Shift, the Seven-to-Seven (Kaede) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerIt's not been the best day, and now you're spending it down on the floor, picking up upended food products and items that were tossed down from the shelves. You were late today thanks to having to get all your club activities at school in order, and then take the long way around to deliver something back to Akira before making along your way here. Ikeda-san wasn't there when you arrived but there was a strongly worded letter left behind expressing his disappointment, noting they are short on staff and that Jiro, the assistant manager, had spoken highly of you, which of course only heightened the disappointment. It started raining about two hours ago, late into your shift, leaving you with the anxiety of realizing you hadn't set the tarp over your loaner car, meaning it was going to be dirty, especially with this being one of the early rains of the seas. What else went wrong today? Other than of course the earthquake that sent everything crashing down just a few minutes ago. You were supposed to be off at nine, that was already late but you were covering for your being late, trying to live up to other people's expectations. Now you're here, doing all the work, as Momoka Ueno barely lifts a finger, more or less picking here and there in the process. Momoka doesn't treat you well, despite you being her senpai, though she always puts on an act when the others are around. She treats you like a pushover, all but bullying you into doing the work, because what gets done or not when you share shifts gets reflected back on you. She doesn't know you, but then again, you've never shown who you really are, and in a way, she's bought into the act completely. She doesn't really make conversation, or even really complain usually when there isn't a motive, but tonight there seems to be something flipped. "Ugh, I can't believe this. Already they asked me to cover tomorrow night for Hisakawa, and now a drat earthquake? This is bullshit." She kicks at one of the hard-boiled egg packages on the ground unhelpfully. "I have another job to do after this, you know." Do you say anything back? Do you snap, or just bear it like you always do? It's going to be nearly an hour of work and it's not going to get done at this rate without her being helpful. What do you do? Meanwhile... Music Changes: Gearing UpOn the kitchen, there's a slight hissing sound, from where some of the appliances had been shaken from the wall. A fallen metal rod has broken a taut gas line, and the invisible gas filters into the room, while the kitchen worker, Kagura-san, is worried more about restacking the boxes, as the clock on the wall ticks along the way, about fourteen after nine. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 01:04 on May 5, 2017 |
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  Scene: Arriving Late, the Seven-to-Seven (Takeshi) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerYou're late, but not because of the storm, though it certainly made the rush to work a lot shittier. It's been raining since yesterday, and the storm sewer drainage canal that's just across the street from the 7-to-7 with its concrete pedestrian bridge looks more like a river, lapping up at the sides, marking off the edge of this neighborhood as it does. On days like this, hardly anyone goes out, so when you arrive soaking wet at the convenience store you're glad to see that there are no customers at all, just a mildly pissed off Momoka Ueno who has already been getting her raincoat on since before you arrived. 9:06, only half an hour late for the night shift. Not bad, really. You expected worse. Why were you late in the first place? "I can't believe you," Momoka says coldly, shaking her head. "Isn't senpai supposed to be the responsible one?" Whenever she uses that word it drips with venom, and she doesn't bother to hide that, with there not being anyone elsehere. You're surprised though, she usually shares a shift with Kaede... Actually, isn't it usually Hisakawa that works on these days? "I got called in to cover and now I'm having to cover for your lateness? I actually have a life you know, unlike the rest of you weirdos..." The TV is on but on mute over the counter as she lets you go get dressed, still standing at the front of the counter, but plenty content to complain more if you aren't getting ready for your shift. While you're taking a breather and getting your work clothes on, there's at first a faint rumble, and then a rolling motion through the rest of the ground. On top of the storm, an earthquake, though it doesn't seem to have been too severe, or maybe it was distant to Tokyo itself. A few things rattle, get knocked over, but otherwise it's fine, though it's an unsettling feeling regardless. When you step back out, Momoka's still waiting, chewing on some kind of candy in her mouth and glances over to you when you come along and take it at the cash register, and then sighs. "Geez, why is it still raining. I'm going to have to walk through all this." She seems to be killing time, dreading going out there entirely. You briefly see the news come on, but Momoka seems to get an idea and asks a question straight out of the blew. "So, Fukumoto... Who's your KMF?" She says the acronym in as best English as she can muster, and when you don't seem to get it, she clarifies with a tinge of frustration, much to your surprise saying the words for the acronym in English completely brazenly. "You know. Kill, Marry, gently caress." It's a pretty sudden question, but she actually seems interested in the answer, much more than actually leaving the store. You notice some kind of broadcast or warning, probably about the storm or talking about the earthquake, though the TV remains muted, and the question stands. What do you do?   Scene: Survival Mode, the Seven-to-Seven (Jiro) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerYou shouldn't be doing this. You can't do it, but you're here anyway. You feel like you're going to die from exhaustion. You have barely slept the last four days, working through all your responsibilities as you have. But when Ikeda-san called you saying that several employees weren't available and he needed you to cover today for a night shift, you managed to drag yourself here in the first place. Yet you mind is anywhere but there in the present. You managed to sleep a little before classes, but even it being a stunningly beautiful day outside didn't really do much to pick you up. Why have you been working so hard, and why can't you sleep? You don't have to bear the burden here alone, at least not entirely. "Aw, senpai, you look beat." Ueno-san can be really informal, but she's always a pretty attentive worker when you are around, and always really nice to you. You've heard differently from other members of the Panic Club of course, so you're pretty sure she has her motives, but as the assistant manager you have to set a high expectation. If she was a bit older and more responsible she might be worth training as well as Yakumo, but as it is she seems to always have other obligations as well. She's been really pulling her weight recently though, picking up a lot of shifts. You might ask her about that, but then you might have to explain why you're so tired. "I can't believe everyone ditched us like that. It's so mean! At least you're dependable." She's definitely looking worse for wear as well, and seeing that only gives you a chance to reflect on your own condition, as you seem ready to collapse at any moment. "Seriously though, are you okay?" How do you plan on staying awake for the rest of your shift? It's only just turned nine o' clock, and you've got at least five more hours left to go. To make matters worse, business has really picked up since the weather has been so good, leaving this as one of the few times you've had to catch your breath. A lot of work was left unfinished from the other shifts, and Ikeda-san said he is depending on you to pick up the pace, and if you can, call upon some people to help out. He doesn't seem to realize that while you might be a good team lead, you don't actually have a lot of friends to call upon at a time like this. Whatever the case is, you have to do something. What do you do?   Scene: Stocking the Backroom, the Seven-to-Seven (Kaito) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerAs it happens, you literally died the same day as when you all got together to talk about it. In fact, it was just like, a few hours ago. You're not the best at customer service, but Ikeda-san respects your work ethic quite a bit actually. You usually are put in the back in the stockroom, helping unload with Fukumoto or others when the delivery trucks come and then stocking in the front. Right now you just had a pallet unloaded and are getting it ready. You've got a system and everything, right? You take it seriously, much like you do a lot of things, even if other people don't take you seriously. What is it though you like most about this job? Your mind has been elsewhere. You've been really mulling over how to be a hero. Kitagawa-sensei treats you seriously enough in the training, but he seems to more just appreciate having someone that cares, a true fan. He doesn't yet really take you seriously, and certainly no one else had. You've been hoping for an opportunity to show off your heroic spirit, or something to really help someone. Turns out, a few nights ago, you found just such an opportunity. Someone was in trouble, and you were there at the right place and the right time to keep it from getting worse, but in the end you choked and didn't see it through. What happened exactly? Usually you work late, but it seems that this last week has been dire for scheduling, which means more money for you, which means more to blow at Comiket in August. So you're working early, it's about five right now, and rather enjoying the feeling of being at least a half-way normal human being, until the last voice you wanted to hear echoes into the backroom. "Iwasaki! Get your butt out here!" Momoka Ueno makes her distaste for you pretty plain, though you're used to a lot of the stigma thrown at otaku, so it's not like anything you know. That was pretty informal, and she's got that tone of voice she gets when she complains that has just a hint of desperation. The last week has had her on her last nerve, so you've been avoiding her as if she was a dark princess type villain. To be honest, that wasn't far off, but since it was just the two of you in the store until the cook arrived, you decided at least to go see what it was. When you came out, you were less than pleased to find a few customers at the store that you didn't want to see. It's a hold up. Music Changes: Gearing UpOne had a ski-mask on and the other had a cap, but one had a knife held up at Momoka as she quickly silenced from her call for help earlier. The other one in the cap turns and faces you. You recognize them from that night earlier, and they recognize you. You have just a few moments. What do you do? Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 00:10 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 4, 2017 23:53
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Mako has the most important job of all: pulling the chain that turns the lights off in the viewing room. If no one is looking too closely, they sometimes switch the lights with their mind. Tonight they don't bother hiding it. Off, on. Off, on. Their hands are hidden in an oversized hoodie and their eyes are covered by a baseball cap, both of which are plastered with protective spell tags from Shoko Ichinomiya, the slacker nun. No one has commented on the impossible lightswitching yet. It's been one of those weeks. Mako sits in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the lobby, swinging their legs, still in school uniform. They already struggled through math homework, and they left their Gameboy at home, so there's nothing to do but sit and wait and let that placid jingle drill into their brain. After the hundredth loop, it starts to make you go a little crazy if you don't have something else to focus on. Having a powerful Resolve helps. But eventually, Mako has to talk to someone. There are some other kids here. Ichi and Gogo are rowdy twin boys with shaved heads to keep lice away, always fidgeting or making gross jokes or roughhousing until their mom boxes their ears and separates them. Maybe their parents can't afford a babysitter. And then there's Jun, a girl around Mako's age whom their parents like to hold up as an example. Jun is perfectly poised and always smiling and talks like she's trying to imitate an adult. She acts so nice, and her voice has this breathy tone, and she's always making "friendly suggestions" for Mako to clean up better, and for someone so happy she never laughs. Mako and Jun are never going to be friends. But at least she's someone to talk to. Mako scoots over to her and digs in her backpack. "Jun, can you check my math homework and fix the ones I got wrong?" Jun stops humming outdated pop music, blinks, and looks genuinely shocked. "That would be cheating! Don't you know we'll never learn if we cheat? I hope you've never asked that before! How can you even find your work in this dirty bag? It's so disorganized! Is that gum? Students are supposed to be organized! If you don't get it together by the end of the year, you'll never be ready for middle school! And it's already so late, oh no, oh my, oh no-" Nope. "Okay, thanks, bye!" Maybe the twins are in a chatty mood. Mako pokes Gogo. "Hey. Do you guys wanna play Featherman?" Ichi makes a fart noise in his elbow, Gogo farts back, and tensions build. Mako tries it too, but they're absorbed in their own world. "Good game! You win!" Ugh. They dig through their bookbag for a crayon sketch of some multicolored spirals. It reminds them of the Seven-to-Seven. Kaito would totally play Featherman. Ms. Umino, an older spinster with dyed hair and bright red glasses and a smiling respiratory mask, is supposed to be minding her. She's just a lady who wishes her life was more interesting than it turned out to be, the kind of person Mom might have been without Mako. She crouches down next to the kid and pats her shoulder. "What's that paper, honey? Did you draw that yourself? Did your parents tell you what's happening today? It's supposed to be a surprise!" Actually, come to think of it, Mako doesn't really remember drawing it. It reminds them of one of those battleship dreams. "No, I just found it. It's a picture of my friends." Mako's hit by a lonely wave. It's late, everything's weird, Mom and Dad forgot about me again, I wanna go home! It's a very powerful wave, cold and dark and clutching their insides. Something is bitter and churning in Mako's heart. No, it's more than loneliness, it's real. Something is here that adults can't see. It's pulsing on the other side of the door. Right where Mom and Dad are. Ms. Umino tilts her head and laughs. "The things you say. You're a really funny girl, Mako! You probably didn't just find a picture of your friends, right? That wouldn't make sense! Can I see that drawing?" "No thank you, it's mine." Mako really wants to leave. But it doesn't seem safe to leave Mom and Dad near something like this. "Can I go to the bathroom?" "In a minute, honey. Please give Ms. Umino the drawing, okay?" "No. Ow- hey, give it back! Jun, mind your beeswax, let go!" Jun steps up and tries to take it, good young Smiler that she is, Mako pulls it back, Umino grabs the paper and tears the edge- "What the-!" Mako reaches out and shuts off all the lights in the waiting room with a smoky electric *pop*, and turns the AC on full blast for good measure. Dark and loud and cold, and enough of a shock for Mako to pull away and make a run down the hallway, backpack in tow. What's happening beyond that closed door? They'll go inside, if they have to. Kellsterik fucked around with this message at 05:31 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 02:55
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 Scene: CIVIC-TV, 7 May 20xx Incidental Music: Gearing UpThere were a lot of things that worried her. Dying, at 17 anyways, was not one of them. At least, it didn’t use to be. But now? Now, forget about it being merely a worry. It had been experienced. Kaede Yakumo, for a short but all too important time, had died. And now she was up and walking, physically well, if not mentally. How could one describe how she felt about the situation at hand? Surreal? Disbelief? Impossible? All this and more, so much more. Yet, it was fact, not fiction. Must have been. She was still breathing, after all. Kaede pulled a long jeaned knee up to her chest and her usual denim jacket around her body, though the latter had small stains of scarlet around the breast. She claimed her usual seat by the projector, where she always kept a silent watch in case of any mechanical or technical errors. Would be bad for everyone’s enjoyment if the film cut off half-way, after all. There, she looked around the familiar screening room, at the familiar faces. Two weeks, one week, just a few days ago she wouldn’t have thought much about this room, these faces. They were familiar, not intimate. There was a bond, of sorts, between the eight of them, but it had been a fragile thing. If it were not for Fright Night, Kaede doubted she would even interact with most of them beyond a professional distance. Sayuri, perhaps, and possibly Mako as well. And Kokoro- -well, there would be time to discuss Kokoro’s situation soon enough. For now, Kaede was more concerned with other matters. That was to say, the fact that not only she had died, but all eight of them. Could the rumors about those cursed tapes be true…? Not so long ago, Kaede would have laughed at such superstition, at least to herself. But considering all that had happened, that all of them had lost their lives, yet all save for one were quite alive now... Something to keep in mind, to be certain. Besides that connection, she couldn’t help but observe that there were details of their individual stories that came up far too often. She may not have been a teen detective, but Kaede had enough common sense to notice several recurring factors in their tales. In particular, one that caught her attention was, “...Does anyone else find it odd that everyone here who worked at the Seven-to-Seven met Ueno before we died? It might just be a coincidence, but…” Kaede drifted off, leaving the sentence and thought unfinished. Such a silly thing to point out, really. It was somewhat peculiar, without a doubt, but it could hardly mean anything. After all, as… tiring as it could be to deal with Momoka Ueno, she was but an ordinary girl. It was impossible for her to be involved in this matter, surely? Yes, surely, just as it was impossible to come back from the dead. Eyes closed, Kaede sat back in her seat and rewound to three days prior. If somehow Ueno was related, then perhaps looking back on just what had happened might reveal something… Scene: Seven-to-Seven, 4 May 20xx Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener...something about that no good, all rotten day. Sometimes, there were bad weeks. And then, there were bad weeks. Granted, things could always be worse, as they said. For her, they would be, soon enough. But the Kaede of May 4th hardly knew that. All the her of then could think of was just how troublesome recent events turned out to be. There was the science club, for example, a club that Kaede more or less had joined on a whim. Truthfully, the subject wasn’t all that interesting to her as a hobby, but the principles were useful in her line of work. Her other line of work, rather, the one that she enjoyed far more. Plus, they occasionally built all sorts of contraptions for competitions, which tended to be amusing exercises. Not today, however. Today, her club felt as if it would last forever, with nothing going on but unproductive planning and drafting. Even after she eventually excused herself, humbly pointing out not only that it was long past time for clubs to end but that she’d be late for her part-time job, there was still an errand to run for her Uncle before heading to the Seven-to-Seven. Not that she minded helping Akira out when he needed it, but taking the long way meant it’d cost more money in the long term. And then there was the letter from Ikeda! Who even wrote a letter in this day and age, just to say how disappointed he was!? A small sigh escapes Kaede’s lips. At least Jiro apparently spoke well of her. It was comforting to know that someone approved of her efforts, even if most of it was done in search of approval. She should repay him somehow, both as thanks and as an apology for her tardiness after he complimented her to Ikeda. Kaede didn’t know how she’d do so, exactly, but she figured she should. Another obligation to attend to. She glanced up at the rainfall with various beverage bottles and bottles for hair care under her arm. And speaking of obligations, she’d have to make time to clean off her car as well. How was she going to fit that into her schedule? Well, no point in worrying about that now. Finished with returning several items to their shelves, Kaede glanced at the clock, forced to acknowledge that it was actually past nine. Just as she was she forced to acknowledge that she'd be too late when she checked half an hour ago. Normally, she could care less about the hour, always working dutifully up until her shift was over. But tonight, Akira said he was free this evening for the first time since… a while now. Maybe a few weeks. It was he that suggested they go out for a late dinner after her work, if she was up for it. Kaede agreed, of course. Except now she had been forced to cancel their plans, to make up for her late arrival. More hours at the Seven-to-Seven, no chance to relax with her Uncle, and working on all too empty stomach. Not the best night she’d ever had, in other words. Another sigh threatens to escape her lips, though this time she bites down, hard. Not the best night she’d ever had, and Momoka Ueno didn’t appear to intend on making it any better. Kaede was not all too fond of the girl colored like a neon sign, though it was not from the lack of respect, or even the way Ueno saw fit to take advantage of someone she saw as vulnerable. It was the fact that Kaede couldn’t bring herself to argue. To complain, even. ‘Saw’ as vulnerable, was it? No, she was vulnerable. That was the truth of it, a truth that could not be denied, and she could deny very much. It was clear that without Ueno’s aid, the work would not be finished in a timely manner. It was also clear that Ueno had no interest in offering said aid. As was the norm. Kaede held back bitter words, instead saying with an exhausted but sweet smile, “Yes, I am aware, Ueno-san. You have said as much before. If you would care to take a short break, I believe I can finish restocking the shelves by myself.” TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 06:41 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 03:08
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Chiyoko hardly knew why she bothered to come to this particular meeting of the Panic Club (which was a childish and stupid name, to be sure, but she hadn't come up with it), especially with...everything that had happened. As always, she was seating near the front, close to the door, but she was dressed starkly - just a black pantsuit with a yellow carnation pinned to her left breast pocket - as opposed to the generally fairly vibrant if utilitarian fare she wore to these meetings. Still, she supposed it was good she came - apparently everyone had had...something happen to them. Even if, she supposed, it wasn't all the SAME thing - that was to be expected, and a lot of them looked shaken. But then they probably hadn't seen it coming. Chiyoko supposed she could forgive them that, if anything. But it was almost too convenient. And if Kaede...the young woman, that is...hadn't said anything, Chiyoko probably would have been unusually silent on this particular night. Alas, it was not to be. "Not just those who work there." She said, maybe a bit quieter than the group was used to her stating, but no less assuredly. "She was...helping me out." She inclined her head. If that was true of the rest of them, she'd have to have words with her little protege - after tonight. It would probably be for the best to coordinate things with everyone else here, first. Yes, too many coincidences. And Chiyoko had learned long before all of...this...to not believe in coincidences, especially when a lot of them happened all around the same people. "This all happened within one week...to all of us. I doubt it was the movie, but..." But what? What else could it be? Momoka? Or the movie and Momoka? The girl had been particularly vocal about her disdain for the Panic Club, but...Chiyoko wasn't sure. She was going to die. That was a certainty. She had been prepared for it. But the other seven of them all dying within the same week of her? That was... Well, it was, wasn't it? The real question was, what now? Before... 'What now?' She asked herself. She wasn't panicked, though maybe it was shock. She didn't think so, though. The diagnosis was, well, unexpected. But she had courted death for a long time, since she was a child, really. Since Hiro's condition was known. That talk wasn't something their parents had hid them from. They were matter-of-fact, Chiyoko supposed it was a coping mechanism - you stare death in the face. You stare your troubles in the face, and you don't blink - even if you're going to lose that game of Chicken, in the end. It was something that had served Chiyoko well, in life. Why should it be any different in the face of her own death? So Chiyoko was...calm. She thought about it long and hard as the doctors went over treatment plans and costs - Chiyoko had money from the divorce, so she could afford whatever treatments. She thought back, to endless hospital waiting rooms and machines hooked into her little brother - tests and medicines and sleepless nights spent in chairs and holding hands and crying until she simply couldn't anymore. Not anymore. Not ever. "No." She finally said. She stood, and bowed, and left, even as the guffawed doctor tried to recapture his composure. She had walked that path, with her brother, all the way to the end. She knew how that ended. It ended the same as the path she was choosing, bull-headedly, now - but it gave her some sort of control, didn't it? She'd have to give up Kaede, her beautiful little girl - but she'd have to do that anyway, in the end, and now her daughter wouldn't remember her mother as a disintegrating skeleton tied to a hospital bed by wires and beeping machines, counting the pace of her oncoming death on their obsolete monitors, wouldn't have to recall the onrush of nurses and doctors and nuns and priests. She'd spare her that. And Kenji too, she supposed. "...oh." She finally said, coming back to herself. Her head had been foggy, the past few days, her mind drifting. She hadn't been really arguing with anybody either, not even her stupid friends and not even when she knew she was in the right - she supposed she knew that this was coming. "Momoka-chan." She said with a smile, recognizing the girl again after a moment. Maybe that would be enough to get a proper reaction out of her little friend, she thought absently, though she had said it without the intention of guile, almost as if she had just realized she was just standing there, in the moment she was in and not before. She shook her head, waving off the girl's concern and offer for a doctor. "No no, it's much too late for those hacks now, anyway." She said as she wiped the blood away from her nose. That was new. She could almost imagine the pressure was letting up on her skull like the vice that her illness had put there was being turned loose. Almost. She simply reached into her purse and procured a wad of bills - likely much more than was necessary to pay for her items (some over-the counter painkillers, a loaf a bread, and some milk - the milk seemed especially superflous since she had found about two weeks ago she couldn't keep it down, but old habits and all that), and picked up her bags and started for the door. The agonizing pain in her abdomen made it hard, but she kept her back straight and though it took all her focus, her gait steady. She wouldn't yell, it would take too much energy. But she'd be damned if she was going to die in front of a bunch of slack-jawed yokels in a convenience store. She'd at least make it outside and make a really big scene, first. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 16:41 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 05:23
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Scene: Running Down A Hallway, Amid the Heaven Smiles (Mako) Incidental Music: Lights Out It is all cacophonous chaos after the lights go out and the air condition rumbles into a dull roar as the kids screams, and the less than apt Umino-san gropes fruitlessly at the air after her. "Wait! Wait, you can't..." By the voice is dulled out by this thrumming feeling through your body. As you approach that door, it's like putting your hand near a live wire, feeling the hair on your body stand up on end. Indeed, that quizzical ahoge so characteristic of your hair is now standing completely straight and on end at the feeling, as you reach up and grasp on the door hand, to pull it open and peek inside. You always knew that darkness reveals things that you can't see in the light. In a weird way, the people inside are hard to see, just silhouettes, but the something else is perfectly visible. Sitting where the Happy Guru usually sits on the raised dais overlooking the reclining spiritual seekers is a large being draped in a black cloak, with a symbol of a third eye at the cowl and stringy black hair around a twisted, mask-like face with a something like a toothy smile but no eyes for it to reach. Raising from its body are deep violet tendrils, looking like the appendages of a sea anemone, expanding from the cloak as if it were skin, not cloth. (This is in fact the mysterious figure from a familiar picture.) It does not seem to immediately notice Mako, or even that there has been a disturbance at all, and its supplicants are all in a trance as well, chanting in tongues and with such joyous, contorted expressions of joy on their face. You see your father, the diminutive, beady eyed man that he is, is the one currently prostrate before this figure. The figure shifts, and its mouth opens. The mouth however is not the smiling part on its mask, where a mouth should be. It is at the abdomen, a great cavernous maw with a dripping tongue that slides around where your father is. You watch to your horror as his legs are all that sticks out, as it expands its gullet and swallows him whole. Your mother is completely absent, but you can only guess... Too late. Its "face" seems to turn, and move towards the crack of the door where you stand. What do you do?
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May 5, 2017 05:46
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Scene: Buried by Responsibility, the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener "Really? Thanks, you're the best, Yakumo-senpai." She gives a peace sign and peaces out without any hesitation at all. She never really seemed all that indecisive when it came to what she wanted, and breezed on over behind the counter and left you to this enormous pile and burden to deal with. The closed sign was already flipped over, so not really expecting any customers to come by, she took out her phone and began to check on it, studying it as it reflected back on her heterochromatic eyes. As if to taunt you further, you get a buzzing sensation in your pocket, though with your arms all tied up, it takes a while before you can put anything down and see who it is. It's not completely unexpected. It's Akira.  Akira: Are you okay?Akira is smooth enough among his own kind, but he's a bit of an old man texter when it comes to phones in a way that's a little endearing. He's either too short or too formal sometimes, but you at least know him well enough to look through it. It's been a bit, so before you respond, he sends another. Akira: I'm on my way. I'll bring dinner.He really didn't have to do that, but maybe a mild natural disaster is something worth changing plans over. Unfortunately that's not going to help your productivity at all. To make things worse, you hear Kagura-san's voice over the air as he calls out. "Hey! Yakumo-san!" He leans out from the door leading into the kitchen, and seems a bit sheepish once he sees the mess that you are taking on all by yourself, while Momoka puts her phone back and starts tapping at the register, as if she was doing something. "I know you're busy, but you know your way around appliances right? The stove won't start, think something might be loose, can you check it with me?" You could do that, but Momoka certainly isn't going to get any work done while you're gone, and Kagura might be a good cook but he's useless at being handy. And you're pretty sick of being treated as the handyman, shouldn't Ikeda-san be the one you call after this? It's up to you. What do you do?
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May 5, 2017 06:07
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Scene: Long Walk Home, the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: What's Your Ask Your choice use of affection with Ueno is a great way to disarm the pastel-colored cashier, as she frowns a bit at the -chan and averts her eyes, especially in front of other guests, before shaking her head. "It's supposed to rain soon, Satou-san. Try to keep up with your health, okay?" Employees were supposed to know the weather and remember their clients, so Momoka was able to hide her very real concern behind a facade of simple pleasant customer service. She wasn't half bad. That little knowledge and your upper hand in the little game all but sustains you as you make to turn around and walk away. Your head continues to swim, and the light from inside is blinding ,as if you're looking towards the sun, but that set hours ago. Before... When was the last time you saw Kaede? The real one, the one that is your own flesh and blood. The last time you met, you realize, was the last time she is going to be able to see you. It's all coming crashing down, yet the slow, almost poisonous way it works through your body You make your way towards the threshold and the automatic sliding glass windows of the 7-to-7. You just need to pass through them, and be under the sky, and with some fresh air. You take a breath to steel yourself, and your body completely retches involuntarily, and with a spasm, you expel from your mouth blood and vomit, keeling over in the process as the burning sensation moves throughout your body. You didn't expect it to be so violent, when it finally came, or so undignified. You didn't even manage to make it outside to make a big scene. There's a scene starting inside the store though, the sounds of shouts and murmuing... And retching. But not from you this time. Momoka retches and vomits likewise with bile and gore herself, grasping at her mouth and throat as she spasms against the counter. You might have expected her to react to what you were going through but this... What is going on? That's the same symptoms as yours, but this... this doesn't make sense. It's not like it's contagious, or so fast acting. The thoughts swim in your mind as people begin to fuss and cause a ruckus over everything. Someone calls for an ambulance, as you see Momoka slump against the counter, holding her stomach. Your body has just enough strength to expel more from your body, this time less since you already let go of so much, and it makes it hard to breath really as each breath seems to invite the same muscular reaction, and you just have to sit in it. The touch, the smell, the pain, all of it. Yet the doorway is still there. You can't walk, but maybe you can crawl. What would be the point there? Why not just give in to it already? What do you do?
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May 5, 2017 06:39
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Kaede's comment grabs Jiro's attention, causing him to finally raise his head from the medical textbook he had been staring at for the past 20 minutes in the cushy embrace of a beanbag chair midway between the screen and the projector. Wearing his usual outfit of dark slacks and a neatly fitted buttondown shirt, you can't help but notice the lime green socks visible between his pants cuff and shoe due to the position in which he's sitting. The bags under his eyes make him look like a very tired tanuki who hadn't quite had the energy to complete the transformation. "So, that really did happen huh?" He lets out a chuckle that sounds half-relieved, half-worried. "I thought the lack of sleep had finally caught up to me, and that I was hallucinating. It was either that or ergotism, and I don't think anything Mako eats technically counts as organic..." He drifts off in what appears to be thought until you see his head dip sharply down onto his chest, and he startles back awake. "AH! I'm awake, yes I am!' Jiro composes himself before continuing " Are you sure Ueno is involved with this? She's always been nothing but polite and helpful to me, and if she was some sort of mastermind, I assume she'd be doing worse acts than picking up extra shifts at a convenience store. When you hear hoofbeats, assume horses, not zebras." FewtureMD fucked around with this message at 18:29 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 06:46
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Music Sting: Are You Sure That's when the conclusion strikes, one Chiyoko relates what happened to Momoka Ueno, that inexplicable strike of her own malady, of keeling over with blood and bile as she had. As Jiro pointed out, it seemed odd to consider she might be up to something, but she had definitely been involved with everyone's story. And more to the point, everyone, except Kokoro, remembered that Momoka died too on that same day as them, and as far as any of them were aware, she hadn't come back, but neither had they really has the opportunity to find out yet. And the convenience store was still there, untouched by any disaster that might have befallen it. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 07:36 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 06:53
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"I wasn't at the store." Mako hops off their chair and instinctively gets near Kaede. Fake Sister seems safer than anywhere else right now. "But I saw Momoka, too. She wasn't supposed to be there." Mako is looking through the crack in the door. Everything else melts into irrelevance. That thing isn't a human being. That doesn't make sense. It's doing something weird with the light. It's really easy to see. Oh, it's smiling. That's good. Smiling is good. It's a sea monster. I have dreams about the sea. Is this a dream? Oh, it's smiling. That's good. Smiling is good. It's a sea monster. I have dreams about the sea. Is this a dream? Oh, it's smiling. Mako's body is shaking, but they haven't realized it. Dad is in there. The dark room with the smiling sea monster has Dad in it. Where's Mom? If Dad is there, then Mako came at just the right time. Dad is going to protect me from the happy monster. Dad is kneeling. Dad's god is the monster. Mako, whose teeth are chattering in the cold, says: "Dad?" Dad has never looked happier. Dad's on vacation. Oh, man. He's in heaven. Dad doesn't smile like that at home. Why is he surrendering? Dad is giving himself to the smiling sea monster. Dad isn't going to protect me from the monster. Mako's heart is beating really fast. They should close the door now. Mako keeps looking through the crack. Why does the monster have a mouth there? This is really scary. The monster is eating dad no why don't you run DAD PLEASE NO ITS EATING HIM This is a dream. It's not really happening. Mako flexes that muscle that lets you wake up from a bad dream. The smiling sea monster can see the open door. I can't wake up. Reset. Reset. Reset. Back to the ship. Where's Mom? Who can I call for help? The smiling sea monster ate Dad. Dad let the monster eat him. Where's Mom? Dad didn't protect me. I need an adult. Where are my friends? Mako takes one step back, then another, then slams the door shut without touching it. Maybe it will hold shut if they don't stop focusing. The kid turns around and runs down the dark cold chaos of the hallway. They're screaming. Kellsterik fucked around with this message at 07:18 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 07:10
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Scene: CIVIC-TV, 7 May 20xx Incidental Music: Gearing Up Focused as she was on thinking back to her death, it takes a few seconds for Kaede to process exactly what Jiro’s said. “Am I sure…? Not really, if I must be honest. But something about it just feels odd…” Yeah, that was the right way to phrase it. Odd. There was something odd that Ueno was there at each of their deaths, but what was it? Then, as Chiyoko and Mako relate their sides of the stories, it hits her. Heck, it probably hit all of them, but Kaede said it out loud nonetheless, “Wait, blood? Bile? That doesn’t make any sense, Satou-san. She… Ueno died on the 4th. On my shift. Right…?” Even more unsure of herself, of her theory, Kaede is caught off guard as Mako draws close to her. It was, well, unexpected. Not that she wasn’t fond of the girl, but there was always something she couldn’t place her finger on that left Kaede hesitant to be too affectionate. Yet seeing the girl there, so… vulnerable after all that had happened, began to drive that hesitation away. What was she thinking? Whatever concerns or fears she might have had, here was a young girl before her who had just died. If it came as a shock to Kaede, imagine what it must have been like for Mako. That wasn’t even beginning to go into exactly how the young girl had died. The thought leaving a sinking feeling in her chest, Kaede reached out slowly, before bringing Mako close for a hug once she recognized that the girl was willing. She thought of saying the normal platitudes, that everything would be all right, that they were all here for her. But somehow, with all that had happened, Kaede couldn’t bring herself to say such empty words. Instead, she closed her eyes once more, returning to her recollections of her death. Scene: Seven-to-Seven, 4 May 20xx Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerKaede silently shook her head as Ueno took the offer without even thinking about it for a second, honestly somewhat baffled. How did the girl even get hired when her work ethic was like this? Surely they weren’t that short on staff? Perhaps the interviewer wasn’t keen enough during the interview process? Or she could have thrown up a convincingly hard-working and energetic facade. It would not be the first time someone did as such, but at least Kaede walked the walk. Well, regardless, it didn’t matter. One had offered, the other had taken. All that she could do was get back to work and see if she couldn’t get this done, somehow. Those were her thoughts before the phone buzzed, anyways. Who…? Actually, there really was only one person it could be, considering the circumstances. After all, her list of contacts wasn’t all that long, and she had missed a rather personal rendezvous, so… yep, it was Akira, as she thought. No big surprise there, though it did bring a genuine smile to Kaede’s face. A rare thing, these days. She begins to tap away at a message telling him not to worry, when his second text comes in, giving her cause to look out at the rain. Well then. This wasn’t what she had been expecting their evening plans to be, but takeout at the Seven-to-Seven could be… nice? Mixing business and pleasure was something she preferred to avoid, but she didn’t have the heart to turn Akira down. Again, Kaede goes to tap out a reply when Kagura calls for her, and just as quickly it came to life, just as quickly her smile died. There always had to be something, didn’t there? Her schedule was already looking tight as is, what with having to do work meant for two by herself and Akira coming over shortly. Now there was a repair job on top of all that? Almost unconsciously, Kaede’s thoughts drifted to Takeshi, who certainly would have made some comment about fair wages for fair work if he was here to hear about this. If only, if only. No point in delaying the inevitable though. There was work to be done, and it looked she was the only one here both willing and able to do it. Of course, Kaede had full intention of mentioning this incident to Ikeda if she ended up not finishing all her work, which was looking more likely every minute. Forcing a bit of bubbliness to her voice, she called back to Kagura with her first words in stilted English, “O-K, I can do it! I’ll head on back in a sec, just give me a moment first!” Finally, after many a distraction, Kaede turned her attention back to her phone. At first beginning to write out in her usual modern style, she pauses as she remembers who she’s speaking to. Akira was… well, not completely out of touch with the youth, per say. He understood basic internet slang, of course. But there was also a lot he didn’t get as well. Deciding to play it safe, she instead wrote out in full,  Kaede: Sorry! Had to work late, lot to do. Kaede: Dinner sounds great though! So hungry…  Kaede: If you don’t see me in the store, I’m probably helping a co-worker out in the kitchen. Ask Ueno, very bright colored girl, to let you in. Kaede: See you soon! <3With that final message, Kaede puts away her phone and starts heading towards the back, stepping in front of Ueno for a moment as she passes her. It was pointless to hope that the pastel girl would work while Kaede was away, so she didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, Kaede said, “Excuse me, Ueno-san. If an older man comes by with dinner for me, then that’d be my Uncle. Could you let him in for me if he shows?” Waiting for her reply, whatever it might be, Kaede moves into the kitchen where Kagura is expecting her. TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 08:19 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 07:37
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"Don't be foolish, Yakumo-san." Chiyoko pipes up again. She couldn't bring herself to call the girl Kaede. Not yet, not after everything. "None of this makes sense. All of us should be dead. Except none of you were supposed to be. And if Momoka was experiencing those deaths, too, then perhaps she's...like us. Whatever we are, now." She frowns. "Maybe she knows more. But if she does, let me ask her - she and I have a...well, we understand each other. And I never got the sense that she'd been too interested in what you have to say, from what I saw." The older woman shrugs. Maybe she just hadn't noticed - granted, she had been fairly self-absorbed. But still, she was good at reading people - that way she could find the weak leak and attack there, after all. This coversation was going to turn towards what to do about Momoka anyway, Chiyoko figured, so it was best to simply lay down the conclusion of the coversation now. No point in dragging it out. Chiyoko dragged herself, pulled herself along by her fingernails. The tile was a bit too slick to get proper purchase, and trying to get back up to her knees had been a pretty futile exercise. But she was NOT going to die in a convenience store! Who even knew if the automatic door would register her, down on the ground, flopping like a fish, covered in the leavings of her own dying gasps - but if not she'd just have to stay alive until someone opened the door and she could drag herself outside. Dignity be damned she was facing death where she wanted to, and that was in the daylight. The 7-7 had always felt like her own little court, ever since the divorce, and especially since her diagnosis. A place she could take control of things - artificial though it was. Now it felt like a prison, like a tomb itself. She never figured out why it was she hadn't been banned. She didn't suppose she'd ever figure it out, now. Oh well. Part of her wondered if there was an afterlife, somewhere where she'd be reunited with her daughter after she expired - but the rest of her knew that was hogwash. She had seen death, up close and personal, before this. And it was...nothing. Just the period at the end of a sentence. Like her. The last time she had seen her daughter had been when she took her to her father's dingy apartment, after the custody arrangements were finalized. Her last words to her had been "I'll see you soon." She hadn't meant it to be a lie, of course, but then things had started progressing - as if the illness had been waiting for her to be alone to really strike at her. Well, joke was on her. Along with bile and blood and...whatever else. She didn't want to think about it. She pretended she could see her darling Kaede's smiling face just beyond those doors. She was fooling herself, she knew, but it was so drat bright in here, daylight outside seemed soothing - and nothing had ever soothed her like her daughter's smile. So, she reasoned, she'd let herself have that. Not too far, now. It had been agonizing, dragging herself along the ground like an inchworm - she really wasn't proving to be any faster than one, either. But she had a final, fatal purpose, at least, which wasn't something she could ascribe to any sort of invertebrate, so she had that on the worms. Ok, she was there. Now if only that drat door would open! "Open!" She managed to choke out, hoarsely, rewarded by a fresh round of retching. It didn't matter. That door would obey her, dammit!
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May 5, 2017 08:28
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Scene: CIVIC-TV, 7 May 20xx Incidental Music: Gearing Up Clack! Sayuri brings the shogi piece down on the wooden board a little more forcefully than she usually does. She often sat in the back, further away from the rest of the group, with a shogi board placed on a table right in front of her. There was something different about the reserved girl today. While she still has her usual blank expression of her face, her movements were far more aggressive than usual. She was practically slamming the pieces on the board. Even her outfit was a little different. It's still the modest plaid skirt and black blouse that she often wore, but it looked like her clothes have been torn and sewn back together in places. She also has a pink, flower-shaped brooch pinned to her chest, which stands in stark contrast to the rest of her outfit. Clack! While the others were talking, Sayuri would be concentrating on her game. Actually, shogi was more than just a game to her; it was a tool that would help her focus, and right now, she needed all the focus she could get to make sense of this whole situation. Clack! The cursed tape. Eight deaths in eight days. The Seven-to-Seven. Momoka Ueno. All connected somehow. Clack! "What if," she finally speaks, as she lifts up a piece, "Momoka was the one who orchestrated our deaths?" Clack! Scene: The Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerIt's not fair. It's never fair. After everything Sayuri has done for Emiko, and after everything she put up with her, she asked Sayuri, someone who was supposed to be her best friend, to be her secretary!? Sayuri has sacrificed so much for her "friend," and this is how she repays her? By treating her like a loyal dog? What a joke. Sayuri has been putting in more hours at work so she would have an excuse to ignore her "best friend," but there is another reason why she's been working so late. Things have been a little stressful at home "Why are you so worthless!?". Her parents have been pressuring her more and more about her studies "You bring nothing but shame to us!", and while her grades are decent, they're not as good as they should be. Working late helps her forget how much I hate my life about all the pressures at home for a moment. "Please come again," Sayuri bows politely at Nakao-san as he leaves in a practiced manner. If only there were more customers like him. Though she doesn't show it, there is nothing more aggravating than a customer who tries to make "polite" conversation. She would rather be dipped in boiling acid than listen to you talk about your lovely, boring life they kept it simple, so they wouldn't delay the other customers waiting in line. She does not smile back at Momoka. Sayuri knows full well that she does not like her, and the feeling is mutual. Who are you trying to impress by dressing like a clown? They don't talk much, and that's fine with her. "Hm?" She looks at the direction of the creepy man outside the store. He's still there, great. She had hoped he would have left by now, or at least be taken away by the police, but he hasn't moved from that spot, and when their eyes met, Sayuri felt an almost overwhelming sense of dread that sent shivers down her spine. The homeless man made her nervous, and now he's there, standing at the entrance. Why can't he just leave already? "Senpai," there's a hint of nervousness to her voice as she speaks, "If it's no bother to you, would you mind if I wait a little longer before I leave?" She continues looking at the homeless man, and hopes that Momoka would get the hint that she would not feel very safe walking home alone with him still around the store.
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May 5, 2017 17:04
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Scene: Waiting for the Guest to Leave, the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener "Geez, aren't you supposed to be the senpai? Whatever." Momoka complains, being a year younger and a second-year, but isn't going to begrudge your reticence, considering she was less than enthused about having to pass by him on the way in. She barely even really looks in your direction while you wait, already looking at her phone. She had a remarkable lack of work ethic, compared to what was generally expected by the manager. So you have all the time in the world to wait it out, but it's already pretty late. The last thing you need to do is have one more thing to explain once you get home... You look to the television to provide some distraction. Movies have always been a companion, an outlet, but television is almost as mindless and aggravating as people are... But there isn't much else. There's a quiz show currently on the broadcast, with a panel sitting about the table. The question is posed, heard dimly under the store jingles: "What is the common etymology between the English and Japanese word for nightmares?" There's just a moment before one of them buzzes in, a professor looking type with his expression mostly hidden behind his odd glasses. "Ah! Edogawa-sensei, go ahead." "Both are derived from the word for evil." "That's correct!" The presenter goes, and then smiles from looking up from his card. "I take it you can tell us better Edogawa-sensei than I could how." "Well, it's simple in the way its written in the kanji, but for the English, the word 'mare' actually comes from an Old English world for evil spirits. Bad dreams came from spirits called mares that weighed heavily on the chests of sleeping people, drinking their breath..." This Edogawa had an annoying habit of rubbing the back of his head as he spoke about things nobody cared to actually know, you noticed. "Scary!" says the female presenter in partial English at the lesson. "You sound like you almost believe it yourself, Edogawa-sensei..." "Hey," finally chimes in Momoka, who is now looking up from her phone. Her brow is furrowed a bit, and she seems like she was going to ask something, before she decides against it. "Why don't you use the backdoor?" She upnods over towards the storeroom. It'd at least be a way to get back home, and the homeless man outside hasn't moved, rubbing his hands covered in fingerless gloves. Just make it through the alley and out on the main street, and you'll be fine. It might be worth a shot. What do you do?
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May 5, 2017 17:28
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"Thanks for the concern Ueno, I'm just a bit under the weather lately. Can you watch the register for a moment while I duck in the back, please?" Before waiting for a reply Jiro lurches into the back room, heading right for his locker. He opens it up and reaches for his messenger bag, going for a side pocket meant to hold a water bottle. With the soft ripping noise of velcro being undone, Jiro reaches into the pocket and pulls out its contents, an over the counter medicine bottle bearing the label of the popular 'Recov-R' brand of cold medicine. However, this bottle does not contain any gelcaps packed with a cough suppressing and expectorant formula, instead, it has a bunch of thick white pills with 'NO-Z' stamped on the sides. 400 mg ought to get me through the rest of the day he thinks, trying to ignore the way his hands already shake or the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat. I still need to finish editing that paper due tomorrow, and the group presentation on the endocrine system is next week. I still need to memorize my section for that...and redo everyone else's slides to my standards. Jiro absentmindedly pops two of the pills, following them with a swig from his water bottle. Okay, time to face the hordes of customers. Hikaru is working right now, so I can't really ask him for help with the stocking...I guess I just need to buckle down and just get it all done. Ikeda didn't promote you for no reason! He takes a deep breath and steps back into the behind-the-register area, faking a cough as a cover for his jaunt into the back. "Ueno, could I ask you to stay up here and check the expiration dates on the candy and gum in between customers? The drink coolers need refilling, and I can move the full boxes around more easily, especially secure in the knowledge that I have such a hard-working employee manning the register..." especially since I just realized my left-hand won't stop spasming, and that's a bad look for a 7-7 assistant manager. Jiro goes towards the area of the store where the drink orders are kept, ignoring his body's plaintive cries for rest. Besides, the world record for consecutive days awake was 11 days. It's only been 4 days so far...what's the worst that could happen? FewtureMD fucked around with this message at 19:13 on May 5, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 19:09
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Scene: Still Alive, the Seven-to-Seven (Jiro) Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener Momoka laughs a bit tinnily at your compliment, turning away. "Well, if senpai believes in me..." Though her tone was less than enthusiastic, they were short handed and she was better at the front-end facing tasks than all the more labor-intensive work, so she wasn't too unchuffed about being left behind to that task. People had been crowding since the flooding from the day before, looking to get water and other supplies. A few people had been without power, especially those closer to the coast. That it got as far as Shimokita was pretty extraordinary, but that was probably the last thing on your mind amid all the other issues. Hikaru... He had been hard at work too. You know there was a gas line explosion a couple of days ago in the neighborhood, and between that and the flooding today, he was putting himself as much on the line. It might have been good to have some support right about now, but could you really ask anything of him? When was the last time you saw him, anyway? That occupies your mind as you all but collapse forward for a few moments, about ready to nod off completely. Music StopsThat feeling doesn't lost, and though the great fatigue remains in your body, the next events do not allow you even momentary rest. First you hear the rumble, a shaking that comes as well from a distance and closing it. Next, you feel the ground move, ripple under your feet. As if someone had pulled a rug, you are jerked and left in the air weightless a moment, before the crashing of gravity throws you forward, and then the shelf collapses back, the full weigh of it crashing down and pinning you for a few moments. There's a groan beneath the shouts and cries of the people inside, and you hear something breaking, a collapse as the supports of the building begin to give way. With sparks and a dim hum, the lights begin to flicker and go out, before the roof of the Seven-to-Seven caves in down, and the shops begin to collapse upon each other, the ground still moving in those almost unnatural waves that throw everything into chaos. You and your body are buried with it, for a few moments of bare consciousness, blacking out... ... Tense Music: Gearing UpYou wake up, in part due to a sharp pain that refuses to let you feel anything else in your body, struggling for breath. Between your mental and physical exhaustion leading up to this, to the crushing weight you feel, it's hard to even conceive of opening your eyes and taking stock to look around, but you do, adjusting to the darkness and finding that you are not completely buried. You feel sharp, constant pain from your legs, and see that indeed they are crushed underneath the shelf and rubble you originally fell under, now further encased there such that you are sure have suffered multiple fractures, potentially to the point of uselessness. There is the occasional rumble and sound of rubble falling apart, and even groans of pain and shuffled, pained breaths. You are trapped here in the darkness, but you are not trapped alone. Rather others have been buried alive in this coffin with you... Including Ueno-san. You might be the only person that can help, and you struggle and strain to see, to see them mostly buried up to their arms near the counter across an almost tunnel lined by a linoleum floor. You can't tell if they are breathing, and you would have to extricate yourself. Do you even have any strength left to help? Is there anything to do, or even worth doing, other than wait for rescue, or more likely... slip away, back into unconsciousness? What do you do?
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May 5, 2017 19:44
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Scene: The Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener Momoka was right, technically Sayuri was supposed to be the senpai here. She must have been way more exhausted from all the work than she thought. She's also not looking forward to explaining to her parents why she came home later than usual. While most of the movies she watches aren't exactly considered high art, she'd much prefer watching them over the trash that's showing on TV right now. Is there anything worse, and more useless, than Quiz Shows? It's just an excuse for garbage people to show off all their useless, garbage knowledge, just so they don't feel like they've wasted their lives studying about a subject nobody cares about. This Edogawa man is especially annoying. Everything about him just pisses me off. Why do you keep rubbing the back of your head!? Stop it! Stop doing that! It's really loving annoying! It makes me want to SCREAM at you! It makes me want to rip off that arm of yours, and- "...Huh?" Sayuri was broken out of her thoughts when Momoka speaks up. The backdoor, huh? She had considered it, but she had hoped that she would've been able to wait the homeless man out. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case. It looks like the man is going to be there for a while. Sayuri sighs, "I might as well. Doesn't look like he'll be moving anytime soon." Sayuri walks towards the storeroom entrance, and says, "I'll be off, then," to Momoka before she leaves. Hopefully she'll be able to avoid the homeless man this way. Tardzilla fucked around with this message at 21:08 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 5, 2017 19:58
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Kaito is standing in the corner, repeatedly placing his hand to his side and pulling it up. There was no blood, why was there no blood, I was stabbed, there should be blood! Did everyone else die? He suddenly pipes up. "What the hell is going on?!" A few hours ago Load the pallet, stock the boxes, load the pallet, stock the boxes. Kaito's system for stocking's so ingrained in him that it's almost reflex. He finds the repetitive nature calming, and is usually able to go into an almost zen-like state as he does it. However, something is nagging at the back of his mind. A few nights ago, he was coming home from Kitagawa-sensei's lessons, when he heard a commotion in an alley. Taking cover, he saw two men attempting to rob a woman at knifepoint! This was finally it! His chance to be a hero! All he had to do was rush in there and kick some rear end! Easy as that! Then, if it was so easy...why was he frozen in place? He couldn't move! He was petrified! He cursed himself as he did nothing while the two men took the woman's purse and headed off. He was sure one of them saw him as they ran by. Not wanting to face the woman and his failure, he put a call in to the police and left the scene, filled with self-loathing. Momoka's call snapped Kaito out of his funk, and the sight of the two men from earlier snapped him even more. "Momoka-san!" This was his second chance! His opportunity for redemption! Rushing into action, he leapt towards one of the men... And was promptly stabbed in the stomach. An unimaginable pain pulsed through his body as he fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood, his vision fading into black... And then waking up unscratched. To him, no time had passed, but it had been an hour since he was stabbed. There was no wound, no tear in his clothing, not even his blood. What the hell was going on?
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May 6, 2017 00:15
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Scene: The First Sorry Step, the Seven-to-Seven (Kaito) Action Music: Le Perv You have to remember, Kaito Iwasaki. What happened next? It's starting to become clearer. It's only been hours, but there was something that happened afterwards. You aren't going to forget the feeling of a knife twisting in your gut, and the look in the man's eyes as he did it. What you remember is not that it was out of some twisted malevolence, like you imagined a villain might. Instead, there's this dumb, animal fear in his eyes as you came at him, and the motion almost instinctual to flick out his own knife and shove it up in there. "Oh poo poo. Oh poo poo! You said we didn't need to kill anybody, Osamu!" Osamu, the tough in the baseball cap, twists his face in anger, both at having seen your face again, but equally that his partner said his name out loud. His eyes still show that same original fear, however. He rips the knfie out, leaving you sputtering as you keel over. "This stupid loving idiot shouldn't have done that!" It's a declaration, that this isn't his fault, a justification. Now, in a way, he's starting to sound more like a villain. With a swift kick, he knocks you aside to curl a bit on the floor, while Momoka tries to scream before being restrained. "We're in the real poo poo now, aniki. Now they gonna take it real serious, man!" The other robber was freaking out, while Osamu seemed absorbed in his own thoughts. He continued, "She saw it all, man, you killed someone! The cops are for sure going to find them..." Osamu delivers another kick to your bleeding stomach, and then moves as if a man possessed. "You made me do this," he says, in a way you can barely hear, your vision starting to clear. You see him take Momoka by the hair. "You made me do this," he declares again, pushing aside the other. Momoka screams futiley. "Iwasakiiii--!" But it's cut short as he cuts open her throat there, and you can see the seam in her flesh open up, powerless from your position. She is allowed to drop down to the ground, lifeless in front of the counter, just across from where you are laying. Did you really think you could make a difference? Perhaps in your folly, you did not only kill yourself, but her as well... Isn't that so? "Holy poo poo! Holy poo poo!" The masked robber desperately stuffs from the open register as much as he can, but is clearly acting on adrenaline. Osamu moves over to where you are. "Don't blame us. Blame yourself, or God." His boot comes down on your face, and it's all black from there. Darkness, and pain. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not like this. Not like this. Not like this... Fade Music... Scene: The River Acheron, Lower Mysteries (Kaito) Incidental Music: Upside DownYou feel as if you fell a very long distance, before your stomach turns in knots and it inverts, and you struggle against a sudden pressure and current that wakes you in part from your unconsciousness. It is not a violent awakening, but as you deeply inhale, the water comes inside, and your body makes as if to drown, a terrible sensation, but it is purely psychological. You aren't capable of actually drowning, as you are already dead. The waters are gray, greasy, and slow-moving, and yet you labor against them, your body weak, the stomach wound still bleeding. You hear soft whispers all around, that sound almost familiar. As you swallow the waters, putting your head up to gasp for air, you remember people in your life. The people that were left behind, flashing in your head as you seek for shelter. As if responding to you reaching out with your hand, skin touches against skin, and someone grasps upon that and drags you out from the river with a sure strength, as you cough up the gray, greasy water and begin to regain consciousness. Once you can bear to look, you notice you on the bank of a river. in what appears to be a ruined city all around you of slumping skyscrapers, unlit neon signs, mixed with anachronistic architecture: pagods and cathedrals with gargoyles and torii gates. A dim sky filled with stars but also stalagmites. Are you in some kind of cave? And the River of Acheron that you just washed from, perhaps not the only you have flown through, but the one you were spat from nonetheless. All of it fades against the ethereal beauty of the being that helped you from the mire. This certainly feels more Hell than Heaven, but the being before you belies that. Shining with inner light, atop a horse and clad in armor, the Valkyrie looks like something from myth. "Thou, who gavest your life in valor in life, shall now be rewarded with hospitality everlasting in the halls of eternity." Her voice is stern, but almost living, as she gazes down. "Be at peace now." Her yellow eyes glow in a way that is less comforting than her aura and the rest of her appearance. The world around you seems to shift, as if rearranging in form, to something familiar. Are these the streets of Shimokita...? More importantly...  What do you do? Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 02:30 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 01:51
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As Kaito comes to, he takes a look around. Where the hell was this? It looked like the ruins of Tokyo from that Digital Devil Saga movie the gang watched a few weeks back...Wait a minute! "Oh poo poo! M-Momoka-san...she died! .....A-Am I dead...? Was that the fuckin' River Styx?!" Noticing the figure that helped him out, Kaito's breath quickens, not that he needs it very much. A woman in armor? A life of valor rewarded in the halls of the afterlife? "You're a Valkyrie, aren't you? I'm headed to Valhalla?"
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May 6, 2017 02:05
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Scene: One Boke and a Valkyrie, the River Acheron (Kaito) Incidental Music: Upside Down "Nay, this is Acheron, not Styx, which lies much deeper in the Mysteries. You have already passed through Lethe and others on your way here, a remarkably potent soul..." The Valkyre's golden eyes gleam with an urgency to them, her stoic expression hardening, even as her voice seems as light as anything else. "Dost thou mistrust me? Ye need only climb astride and we shall climb to the halls, where you will have nothing left to worry about. You died a hero, so there's nothing left for you in the land of living." Was that really true though? Was there anything left for you now that you've died this way? Her hand beckoned once more to take him up, but you know enough that she didn't answer your question, not directly. No pain... No more having to live up to anyone's expectations. Maybe you didn't save Ueno, but you did save that woman before. Maybe that's all you really could do, as just some kid. You aren't Featherman. You don't have any special powers. You're just an otaku loser who had nothing to lose but his life, and now, not even that. What else could there be worth living for?
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May 6, 2017 02:29
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Pain. Deep, searing, unbearablepain. Biting back yet another scream, Jiro twists around as best he can, moving another piece of concrete out of his way. He's spent the last...well if his watch was actually working he'd be able to tell how much time had passed in the stifling gloom shifting chunks of rubble and trying to free himself. There's no way he could try and check on Ueno if he was all the way over here. Even if there was nothing he could do, Jiro had to at least try. He couldn't live with himself if she was...dead, and he had done nothing to try and help. All that training, all that studying, for what? Nothing! He pauses after setting down the chunk to try and blow on his torn and bleeding hands, hoping it would ease the pain. At least I was never aiming to be a surgeon Jiro lets out a small chuckle, which is instantly deadened by the stifling air and the rubble. He looks over at Ueno, trying to see if she has moved at all. Nothing so far, but he still had to persevere. One last large chunk to move, and he could extricate himself and try to crawl over. Alright Jiro, heave-HO! All of Jiro's body is ablaze with white hot pain as he grits his teeth and pushes against a piece of rebar the size of his torso. The whole thing shifts an inch, and he takes a moment to breathe...and then he hears more rumbling. He instinctively covers his face as more rubble starts raining down on him. When Jiro next opens his eyes, its as if he hadn't opened them at all. The suffocating darkness was everywhere, and Jiro knew that this was it. No air, no light...no hope. He was going to die here alone in the dark, without ever having accomplished his goals, or gotten to live! For the first time since that awful first night alone in his room as a child, Jiro felt the hot tears of sorrow and anger welling in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. I tried so hard! I worked myself ragged! I missed out on so much! WHY??!?!?! I disappointed those I care about again! I'm going to die without having improved the world, and saddening people! It's not fair! In between great racking sobs, as Jiro holds his mangled hands to his face to try and stifle the tears, he cries out the names of those he's failed. " Ueno!...Hikaru!...Ichi!" As the air gets warmer and warmer, it gets harder for him to take any breaths. His breathing becomes shallower and shallower as his lungs desperately try and wring out as much oxygen as possible. The tears slowly stop as Jiro grows woozier and woozier. Before he passes out in the darkness forever, he manages to mumble out one last phrase "I'm...sorry..." He slumps down. It's over.
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May 6, 2017 16:43
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Scene: Absconding from the Heaven Smiles (Mako) Action Music: Lights Out You follow the instinct, turning and making a break from it, holding your back tight and running away from the monster as quickly as you can. Such that you hit at full tilt into someone, bowling over them and falling down as you feel that pressure approaching you. At first, you are afraid that you might have run directly into Umino-san, and you struggle trying to get away as they seem to be trying to regain their footing as well. The somewhat fried voice however sounds a bit younger, yet equally familiar, compared to Umino-san. A smell that is familiar as well, the pleasant aroma of incense matched with the less than pleasant aroma of cigarettes. With a flash of burning cherry at the end of said cigarette in her mouth, you see in the dark a glimpse of Shoko Ichinomiya's face, the light reflecting off her vulpine yellow eyes. "That's the right idea kid. Keep running, and don't look back. Get somewhere safe." Helping you back up, and flicking the cigarette aside. The door creaks open, and the monster seems as if to ooze through the air, moving through it more like water than anything else, buoyant and letting its tongue drag on the ground as it comes, drooling. Putting her hand aside, Shoko steps forward, saying nothing but bringing her hands up into a Buddhist mudra, a hand seal that brtings forth the same pressure you felt earlier, but from a different direction, the air seeming to scatter like a wind and hold the oozing creature back slightly, as she concentrated. "I said go!" She repeats, with a little more urgency, and without knowing it you're already leaving leaving this place, perhaps forever. Somewhere safe. Your parents are gone, and you'd need to get to the subway to go home. The Temple is through a bunch of crowds and several blocks away... But there is somewhere just down the street you can go, where there's going to be light, and people, and a phone. And people know you there. Somewhere safe. Scene: After nine, at the Seven-to-Seven (Mako) Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerThe automatic glass doors open when you arrive, and you see that the store is mostly empty, though the bright incandescent light is weirdly comforting. Ueno-san is at the cash register, tapping at her phone, looking up with a smile at the chiming of the entrance that disappears almost immediately when she sees its you, and she looks back to her phone, as if to try and ignore that you came in. You're panting and wide-eyed but maybe she doesn't even register that as all that weird, as she always seems to try and completely ignore you, unlike the others in the store. You are somewhere safe. What do you do?
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May 6, 2017 19:02
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Scene: Back Alley, behind the Seven-to-Seven (Sayuri) Incidental Music: Gearing Up The door swings shut behind you, as you look both ways and see the path clear, taking with you whatever belongings you had brought with you to work and making your way, seeing the streets just a bit off. Just keep your head down and keep moving. Just like you do through life, and there should be nothing to worry about. Just keep moving, and pretend there's nothing there... Even as the shadow looms over you. You're wrenched back, reeling as a hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you back. How did he...? Instinctively you resist and get your wrists tangled in someone's hands. You smell alcohol, and worse smells than that, the fetid breath of the crooked toothed homeless man bearing down on you. "Just stop! I need your help, please... My name..." But you're already shouting for help, clawing at his face. He's a young man, which is hard to see under so much dishevelment. He doesn't even really look that much older than you. Yet he's desperate, pinning you against the wall and trying to keep you still, red lines across his cheek from where you scratched him. "My name is Daisuke, my friend... You must know him... Just help me..." There is a violent thudding sound, and your body tensed for some kind of pain, but it never comes. Instead, the man staggers, releasing you, though tearing something from you in the process. Something important, something that identifies you. Blood trickling down from a bludgeoning head wound, the man stares as Nakao-san, the customer you saw before, holds a tire iron in his hand, and seems to threaten him with raising it once more, and the homeless man simply dashes off. Nakao-san blinks once, adjusts his glasses and looks to you. "Are you okay?" The door swings open, and Momoka looks shocked. "Sayuri, are you ok?" She sees the tire iron with the blood on it, and her eyes turn wide in shock. "Oh my god, I'll call the cops, you shithead!" Nakao's eyes widen a bit, looking a bit in disbelief. "What, me?" And looking to you, almost with a confused expression, and a frown. "I'm sorry, I hear the shout, and couldn't just stand by..." Of course, this homeless man, this Daisuke, was still out there. Would it even be safe to try and leave now? It seemed there was nowhere you could be, except with these people that you at least knew, that would be safe. What do you do?
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May 6, 2017 19:13
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Mako goes right for the candy aisle. It's not about wanting a treat. It's just that Malted Milk Bars are the only familiar thing to cling to right now. It had to be Momoka on duty, didn't it? Mako approaches her, trying to be polite, but on the verge of a meltdown. Clutching an unpaid-for candy bar with the foil unwrapped. "uh- uh- Ueno-san," Call Da- [X] Call Mom? What if it got her too? Call Shoko? Can't help any more. scared scared lonely lonely. "w-where is Kokoro? Or Sayuri? Shouldn't one of them be here today?" What else is there to do? Instincts say: stay focused on something, one foot in front of the other, just keep swimming and you'll be okay, like the friendly cartoon shark says. Stay put until an adult (who?) comes to get you. Do more homework...? No, better plan: push over a magazine rack and barricade the sliding door. "Ueno-san, help me block the door! And lock it! And call the police! And the fire department! I need to bring more people here! Please! It's really important! There's a- a monster!" Kellsterik fucked around with this message at 20:10 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 19:56
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Scene: CIVIC-TV, 7 May 20xx "That's a good loving question, Kaito," Takeshi says as he stares out a window through a crack in its closed curtain. He seems to be focused on the clouds outside. "None of this makes any sense, and not even in the regular 'none of this poo poo makes any sense' kind of way." This wasn't absurd like the way society itself is absurd. It's entirely different. It defies even basic logic. "Are we really trying to blame Momoka for all of this? I mean, the fact that she-" Takeshi freezes for a half second as he trips over the next word. "died there and died multiple times doesn't make sense, but nothing else makes sense, either." He sighs. It feels like now would be the time where he'd usually launch into some rant or ramble about how Capitalism and Society touches everything and so you could blame everything on them, but now even he seems at a loss for an explanation. Scene: Arriving Late, the Seven-to-SevenTakeshi shrugs off Momoka's cold words as he strolls into the store. The rain soaked into his hair and his clothes weighed him down more than her words ever could. "Never put faith in anybody older than you, Momoka," he says, casually. "If the senpais of the world were actually responsible, society wouldn't have so many problems. They're all just selfish creatures." Of course, by saying this he was putting himself in the same bucket as all those old assholes that actually ruin the world. But that didn't felt like it mattered. Today he had a reason for being late. Maybe not a strong one, but it was enough to clear out any guilt he might have possibly had for missing part of his shift at Seven-to-Seven. Kiyoko had invited him to some impromptu concert held by some punk band calling themselves the Bad Weather Boyz. Apparently there's a side of the city that only comes out when the weather keeps all the normal and sensible people at home. The concert was kind of just alright, especially since Takeshi had to leave early, but it was a nice excuse to go outside and go see something at the fringes of society with Kiyoko. It's too bad actually going across town and back in this weather kind of really sucks. A change of clothes, a short rest, and an unsettling earthquake later, Takeshi is back out in the main storefront room. And then Momoka asks a strange question. "Kill, Marry, gently caress...?" Takeshi repeats the words slowly, partially due to being caught off-guard by the sudden vulgarity, and partially because he never really retained that much from English class. "You're really asking me that?" It's not that Takeshi ever really cared about workplace etiquette, or society's rules about what's 'proper' or 'improper' or any of that stuff. But, still there's a quiet voice echoing in the back of his head, whispering about the dangers of casual misogyny, objectification, and so on. It's a tiny internal discourse that happens to get silenced pretty quickly. "Okay," Takeshi throws that concern to the wind and leans on the counter. A smirk appears on his face. "You mean like the women around here, right?" The first choice felt easy. "If there's anybody that's going to be on my kill list, then it's not anybody that actually works here. I mean, obviously it's gotta be Satou-san. Right?" Takeshi give Momoka a look that seems to be expecting some kind of agreement on the matter. "And then, 'Marry'? I'll marry..." Takeshi puts his hand on his chin and looks up at the ceiling. "Oh, this is tough. The girls here are nice, but... it seems like they'd have plain, happy marriages. Like, happily ever after kind of stuff. I don't really want that, but if I were to pick somebody, I'd pick..." Takeshi thinks for a second, like he's spinning some arbitrary roulette wheel in his head. "Hisakawa-san. Yeah, she seems nice. Maybe we'll get lucky and she can support both of us with shogi money. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" "Okay. And then 'gently caress'. I'll go with Yak-" Takeshi suddenly stops himself as a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. "No, wait. gently caress Satou-san." He laughs and grins as a surely unwholesome scene plays out in his head. "That'd be something." "So then I guess now I have to kill, uh...." Takeshi tilts his head around in a circle as he tries to think up a replacement choice. Then he looks directly at Momoka and points at her. "You. The disrespectful kouhai. That'd make my life easier." He laughs again. "Nah, not really. But that's what I'll go with. Kill you, Marry Hisakawa, gently caress Satou-san." "Now it's your turn." Takeshi leans forward, looking directly at Momoka. She started it, so she's not getting out of it. "Kill, Marry, gently caress. What's your choice?" Takanago fucked around with this message at 21:13 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 20:21
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Scene: One Arriving One Leaving, the Seven-to-Seven (Takeshi) Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener Takeshi's earnest elicits a pleased sort of look in Momoka's face as she leans in right there in front of him, arms crossed and hanging on each and every word, her heterochromatic eyes glinting a bit with interest. She even offers a few "Oh?"s and "Really?"s for added effect. Her charmed expression evaporates at the mention of killing her, and she seems to involuntary shudder at something/. Considering the slightly gothy getup under all the pastel colors, one might imagine she has a morbid sense of humor, but she doesn't seem to take it very well. "Don't say something you don't mean, Takeshi-senpai," said with all due derision, especially tied with Takeshi's cynical view on those who were older and had more responsibility. She straightens up and faces away, one arm crossed while the other held her umbrella at her side, and it didn't look like at first she was going to answer, before she sighed and shook her head. "Fine, I'll tell you." Her eyes turn to look at him in consideration for a few moments. "First, I'd kill you, Fukumoto. It's only fair, right? I don't let things like that go." She smirks, though there's a tinge of seriousness to it. As if she really meant what she said, even in this context. "As for marriage... I'm never getting married. I don't need it, or really anyone else sticking around in my life. Certainly not anybody that works at the Seven-to-Seven." Waving her hand dismissively. "As for gently caress, well," she looks over her shoulder, "whoever pays the most I guess. If I have to, I might as well get something out of it. Night, Fukumoto. Try not to get killed before I'm done." She opened her plastic umbrella and stepped out into the rain, to make her way down the street and take the pedestrian bridge over to the subway station. While her words sunk in, you didn't really have much to look at but the television. There was something on the chyron crawl you got only a glimpse of, before it switched over to an emergency broadcast. Even as you turned up the volume, however, you heard a different sound, coming from outside. Music Ends.The pulsing of a siren. Pay Sound: Tsunami Siren"... just off the shore from Tokyo Bay. Repeat, survey buoys have detected the surge heading..." Action Music: Wake Up the PresidentYou can see that Momoka has heard the siren to, just visible beyond the curtain of rain, up on the concrete pedestrian bridge just across from teh front of the store. A tsunami doesn't usually hit too far inland though, right? Still, the flooding might catch her. You have only one opportunity though. You're supposed to take cover, find some safety, but... She's right out there, standing where it would be in the wake of it. She probably can just take care of herself right? You've got your own skin to save. You've got to make a decision once in your sorry life. What do you do? Meanwhile... Momoka Ueno stands transfixed, frozen in terror with her pupils dilated, as we see her from the front standing on the bridge, and slowly pan over to look over her shoulder, where what can be described as a wall of water is bearing down, much greater and further inland than should ever be expected, swelling up from the flooded drains and crashing through the Shimokita streets towards her.
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May 6, 2017 21:06
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 "Murder is a very serious charge.", Kokoro spoke up softly from her spot at the table. Though her hand rested on it, she pokes her index finger through it idly in an immaterial fidgeting. "You need evidence and a motive. It makes as much sense right now as an vengeful ghost of a friend looking to visit grudges on you." She smiles a little at that blithely, as if she didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt at the awful joke. "If you all returned from death, it seems likely that Momoka has a similar phenomenon. It could be that you can't die at all, somehow." She looks to the ceiling. "Um. I wouldn't suggest testing that, though... it could be something you all were exposed to. It could be she was just exposed earlier." Senpai. The way she said it, could it be?... well, no, it's just a hypothesis, too raw to expose to the rest of the club. "Or maybe she somehow passed it on to you." She seemed surprisingly calm, but then, she'd died first, so she'd had some time to come to terms with her "condition". The early days had been the worst, shouting at people until she'd sought out Mako. It was a logical turn, given the rumors about the child. Being around people who recognized her softened her despair. It was the first time she'd missed the voice. It was cruel and abusive, but at least it had always known her. Being cut off from everything was a special sort of torment she'd never feared before. Only treating it as a mystery was the thing keeping her holding on. It was like that game, Ghost Gimmick? Only she didn't seem to be able to turn back time or undo anything. She just had to solve it in the now. She remembers the dinner. It wasn't often mom and Emiko and her got to have a meal together. She remembers helping out Emiko with the nikujaga as she worked on the miso. And then... and then... had she be working too hard on finding that missing dog? She didn't remember that, though. The hum of the refrigerator cases felt strangely distant, like she was a court's throw away from them despite being nearly. Pushing herself up was an act of will in more than one way. It was cold, and she came out from the back, squinting. It's like her eyes wouldn't adjust to the light. Ugh, I hope I don't need glasses, reads the ignorant thought tumbling through her head. Well, she must have fallen asleep at work, maybe on break? She didn't break in the stock room, though... is there a reason she made an exception. As she spots Ikeda, she freezes. Did anybody see? Would she be reported? If she lost her job here... well... it wouldn't be the worst tragedy... but... the money would help her repay Emiko and buy that vintage tape recorder and... she shook her head, as if to try and shake off the weight she felt, but she should report to Ikeda. If she was in trouble, that would at least confirm it. Huh, he must be really distracted, she can't get his attention at all. So she reaches behind the customer's head and gives her rabbit ears with an index and middle finger. No response. She looks at her faded hands. Was this a- no. This wasn't a dream. There were details. She crouched, reading the details on a bottle of tea, then looked away and then back at it. The words didn't change. Everything was too distinct for her to be asleep. Pushing herself up felt like dragging herself up to do a pullup. Was she a ghost? Out of phase with reality? Part of a government stealth technology experiment? Somehow, the last one seemed more ridiculous than the first. Reaching out a shelf, well- Test the First: Intangibility? Reaching to a shelf, she tries to shove number of tea bottles off, almost as much as acting out in a anger as much as a 'test'. Sure, she has more important questions to ask, but it's best to get the ground rules down first. It at least keeps her from panicking. Every mystery is a series of puzzles. It's best to confront it all one piece at a time- before- before- - no, focus. Don't lose it. Don't lose it. It felt like a panic attack was crawling up inside her, and it took everything she had to choke it down. Break it down in to steps. Figure each out. Don't consider the whole situation. Not yet. Every puzzle has a solution. Alien Rope Burn fucked around with this message at 21:49 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 21:39
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Scene:  , the Seven-to-Seven (Kokoro) Incidental Music: Sound WorldOne step at a time. Your admirable dedication to it as a mystery gives you a sense of calm, a focus as you attempt to shove the tea bottles. It is a way to confirm it, and indeed, your heart sinks as your hand simply moves through them, intangible. It's really true. You are not longer solid, no longer alive. But there's more to it than that: The sensation is quite unlike what you expect it to be. It's not as if the objects have no solidity at all. There's a chill through your hand as it moves through, and you can see condensation appear on the bottles, breathing through with your touch. It felt almost as if you concentrated... You concentrate, and touch again, and you feel as if it's solid this time... but heavier than anything you have touched against, like an immovable force. As you push, harder and hard and strain, you feel your legs kick up for leverage... and float, barely bound to gravity, but it's still there. Just like the bottles are still there. It's just that you are on some other... frequency. Somewhere between there and not there. A Twilight between night and day. What's further, touching this object is numbing, as if you have no sense of touch at all, but you do feel this wind, and there is some kind of structure around you. Flickering in and out, like images on the noise of an old television screen... The layout of the store is slightly different. Wasn't this how it was when you first started working? There's echoes of previous displays. As people move, it's sluggish, and you see afterimages in their wake, and they seem to move here and there. They have no faces, shapeless almost with static instead of features, but you absolutely do recognize the people you know, like Ikeda and Ueno-san. You were able to create some kind of condensation with your hand. Is there some other way you could communicate, some kind of way you can make yourself known? You just gotta think like a ghost, detective. What do you do? Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 22:09 on May 6, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 22:04
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Scene: One Arriving One Leaving, the Seven-to-Seven Well, that could have gone better. It felt strange, though. If there was a part of that KMF conversation that could have gone wrong, it didn't feel like that should have been it. Why would one mention of 'I'll kill you' be so offensive when everything else wasn't? It felt like he had struck a nerve, but why? And there was something unsettling about the way Momoka said she'd kill him, too... "Night, Fukumoto. Try not to get killed before I'm done." A pang of guilt hits Takeshi somewhere in the chest. He didn't feel bad about making Momoka mad before, but this felt different in a way he had a hard time putting into words. But before he could get a chance to think too much, he would get distracted by something much more urgent. Takeshi whips his head toward the front doors as the sound of the siren blares. "What the hell?" What is Momoka doing just standing there? "MOMOKA!" Takeshi bolts to the front door and yells once they open. "MOMOKA!! GET YOUR rear end INSIDE!" But she's still standing there. Like she's stuck. She's just staring at... Takeshi turns his head to look down the street. Oh, poo poo. "MOMOKA!! gently caress!" Takeshi yells one last time, but it feels like time is running out. There's one last chance. One last decision to make. One opportunity to not gently caress this thing up. He bolts out of the door, running from the shelter of the Seven-to-Seven out into the direct path of the storm. Running like a criminal from the cops, he dashes out onto the concrete bridge and grabs Momoka by the arm. "Momoka! Come ON!" And then, without waiting for any kind of acknowledgement, he pulls her and starts to run back. There's no time to think anymore, but a feeling of dread wells up in his throat. If he can just get both of them back inside they'll be safe, right? Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't matter. It's not like there's time to think up another plan.
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May 6, 2017 22:25
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"I'm inclined to agree with Ootori, I don't think Ueno murdered me." He scoffs while absentmindedly rubbing his chest. "It's not like she...caused that earthquake to...collapse...the store..." His voice trailed off. "Kaito, you worked a shift today, right?" Jiro has an odd inflection in his voice. "That's funny, considering 24 hours ago it was reduced to rubble with Ueno and I trapped inside."
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May 6, 2017 22:45
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"There are contradictions between a number of your stories. If there was a health disaster or a murder at the Seven-Seven, it probably wouldn't be open the next day, either.", Kokoro points out. "At the very least, the police would have questions for everyone. You should check to see if your stories ended up in the news or not." She rests her head on her folded arms upon on the table, her hair spilling over her shoulders. Well, at least she had a proper ghostly hairstyle. "But if your deaths were undone somehow, maybe whatever events that caused them were undone, too." Granted, that raises a question of what might be able to undo an earthquake or tsunami, but she seems too resigned to find the notion ridiculous. Well, she has other tests to do, but she seizes on just pressing against the veil of static. If she could see back... maybe that might provide clues? She focuses, trying to see how the world reacts. It seems dangerous, but how dangerous can it be? She's dead. The answer to that is probably not something that she actually wants. Maybe the answer to her dilemma resides not in the material, but the immaterial. Maybe she can somehow- she reaches out to a electronic screen that should be serving up ads, trying to see if she can interfere... or feel anything... or at least get a shock. Anything. Anything What happens when she puts her hand through a light? Shouts at a cell phone? What if she pokes at a person? Tries to draw a smiley face on the drink cooler? What about pushing lighter objects, like a pen, or a receipt? Exploration keeps her focused, but it feels like even victory might be hollow. If she can draw words on the glass, so what? Is that what she does for the rest of her existence? Can she even escape the Seven-Seven? A lot of ?s at least ward away the !s, though it can't last. Despair will kick in if she can't connect. Alien Rope Burn fucked around with this message at 03:16 on May 7, 2017 |
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May 6, 2017 23:23
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Scene: Back Alley, behind the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Gearing Up Just keep moving, and don't stop. You'll be home in no time. Just keep moving. Sayuri repeats those words to herself as she hurries along the back alley. As long as she makes it out to the streets, she'll be safe, and she'll never have to see that creepy homeless man ever again. ...Or so she thought. She's pulled back by the homeless man, who somehow appeared right behind her. "Don't you DARE touch me, you loving PIG!" The man is saying something to her, but she isn't listening. She lashes out at the man, scratching his face with her nails, and desperately calling for help. "Go AWAY! I don't loving CARE who you are! Why don't you go DIE IN A loving DITCH!" The homeless man eventually overpowers her, and she soon finds herself pinned with her back against the wall. Sayuri, in her panic, spits at the man's face, "I'm not going to help worthless garbage like you." continues to cry for help. Surely somebody must've heard her by now. There's a loud thud, and the man who was pinning her staggers back, and he ends up yanking off the small, silver pendant she wore. No! She reaches out to try to take the pendant back, but she's too late. The homeless man makes a run for it, taking her precious pendant with him. No! No no no no NO! Give it back! Give it back! GIVE IT BACK!!! Sayuri, who is visibly shaking from the whole ordeal, does not respond to Nakao-san right away. It was beyond terrifying, and to make matters worse, the homeless man took the most precious thing in the world to her; her pendant, an important gift that was given to her by ▄▄▄▄▄▄. And now it's lost. Forever. "It's okay, Momoka-san," she finally says, in a shaky voice, "Nakao-san was the one who saved me." She turns to the young sculptor, and bows, "Thank you, Nakao-san. I owe you my life." She straightens up, looking a little more like her usual, composed self, and adjusts her glasses. "If it's no trouble, Nakao-san, may I ask you to help me get back home? I don't think it's safe for me to walk back alone, especially with people like that man around."
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May 6, 2017 23:34
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Scene: It's the End, the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: What's Your Ask Your fingernails dig into the linoleum of the floor, as your vision begins to blur, and the sounds of the people shouting for help and calling on their phones seems to fade away. The last you saw of Momoka, she had collapsed completely, but now, you only had eyes for the door, and passing the threshold. You would not die here. Not like this. Your dragging fingers leave bloody trails from where they bleed from the willful, righteous pressure you apply, breaking the nails down to the quick. You don’t even bother gasping or breathing, you’d rather suffocate than retch. You can see the light there, framed by that aluminum door, and you can almost see it, her waiting for you. Isn’t this the sight you wanted to spare her from? Your hand reaches out. Outside it appears as you to daylight, even though in reality it is night, and you can see her figure waiting for you, holding out her hand. Just a little further… Just a little further… Just a little further… Fade Music.… Moments later, the scene shows the glass doors opening and closing in a loop, jingling as they open, and then closing but catching on something with a thud, never completely closing. This repeats, while sirens blare in the background, as all turns to black. Scene: The River Eresh-ki-gala, Lower Mysteries (Chiyoko) Incidental Music: Upside DownThe falling sensation subsists as you roil and tumble, still weak and aching from the disease wracking your body, through an unseemly medium. You do not know how long it has been, only that it has been too long, journeys through a winding river here and there, passed from one tributary to the next, and fed here into this. The brackish bog water is choked in its brown depths with a slurry of barren plant seeds that cause you to choke, sting at your eyes and fill your ears. You begin to struggle, and catch onto some kind of drifting piece of wood. Too weak to do more than instinctively grab on, you cling to the driftwood for a time, before it tangles with roots and moors you at the center of this river, as everything flows around you. Beached on this makeshift island, you begin to recover some of your senses as the time stretches on. You are still soaked in your own blood and sick, your body pale and drained of nearly all its strength. And the barren seeds of the river cling to your soaked cloths, speckling it here and there as they tear with their little spines. You move in and out of consciousness, seeing what looks to be the city of Tokyo, but darker, indistinct, surrounding you in the rivers, the stars above… You hear voices, and something like a conversation. They are vaguely familiar ones. ”... but that’s the best part!...” “... down to the meaty bits….” “... a stew will last us longer…” The voices are shrill, but speak with voices you know. That circle of friends, the women of wisterias that you spend your time with bored in the afternoons and gossip. Your eyes barely open to see their shapes, but they do not resemble your friends at all, but rather freakish harpies of myth and legend.  You were absolutely certain as well that they discussing how to eat you, as well. “Shh! She woke up!” One of them puts on its most kindly face. “Go back to sleep dearie, you’re so sick and tired, poor thing.” There are three of them, perched on the mangrove-like roots that grow out at the center of the river here. You don’t have anywhere easily to run, even if you had the strength to. Much less taking stock of this situation that you are in, nightrmarish as it seems. “It’ll all be over soon.” You already died, are covered in filth, your own and that of this river that didn’t even have the decency to clean the sick from you. You appear to be in some kind of hell, and three monstrous harpies with the voices of your friends are discussing the best way to prepare you for dinner, and all in all your body just wants to give out. So why not? What do you have to live for, anyway? Scene: Tail End of Shift, the Seven-to-Seven Incidental Music: Grass is Always GreenerMomoka looks at you as if you just asked her to skin a cat, but she doesn’t complain as she puts her phone down, and actually starts doing some work. She realizes just as much as anybody that she’s getting out no faster if you aren’t doing the work, so there’s that at least. Maybe by the time Akira gets here things will be sorted. Kagura-san leads you into the back room, rubbing his neck. “I’m not really good with any of this, but all I know is that the grill won’t start. The fire isn’t lighting.” You’re hyper-focused. One task at a time. You know that the grill work with an electric igniter to create the spark, so start rummaging a bit. You find the problem, easy. You plug it back into the electrical outlet. “Was it really that simple?” Kagura-san says, sounding pretty embarrassed. “Working all day’s made me light headed.” You’re feeling light headed too, but it’s been a really long day after all. You feel a buzzing in your pocket and remember that could be Akira, so take a look for it, maybe a reply to what you sent him earlier. Music stops. Almost there, I see it down the street. Don’t be a stranger when I come in now.“Time to get back to work,” Kagura-san says. You now definitely smell it, however. The light-headedness, everything else. The realization barely has time to dawn on you before Kagura turns on the grill, and the ignitor sparks. You’re dead before you even know it. The fireball of the explosion consumes your entire side, facing away but not completely from the grill. Half of your body’s flesh merely peels off, third-degree burns causing a numbing sensation blind to pain as the nerves die. The rest of your body is seared, but the overload causes you to lose consciousness before your body is further mangled by the massive impact against the other appliances, breaking several more bones. The resultant wave of hot air and fire burns Momoka alive, her scream audible if only you had the means to hear it, save in your heart as you descend, deeper into darkness. It’s been a long day. A long day. … Scene: The River Phlegethon, Lower Mysteries (Kaede) Incidental Music: Upside DownYou are falling through burning rings of fire, that smother and burn away much of your clothing, all of the trappings of your life, leaving only scraps and chars clinging to your body. The burns from your death still linger, leaving you horribly disfigured down your left side. Yet now you are still consumed with flames. Is this Hell? Yet you cannot die, and the pain is dulled by the fact you have little nerves left to feel it, though you must live with the horrific smell of your body’s immolation. Yet these flames are not like any flames you know. They flow like a liquid, and buoy you up within them. And thus y ou can reach out, body crackling as you do, and work against this current of hellfire, pushing and trying to find purchase somewhere, and eventually finding a piece of rubbing, a piece of rebar sticking out you catch on with your smoking hand, dragging yourself out and collapsing there on the bank, gasping. You take your time to recover, eyesight beginning to return, at least on your right side where the eye still remains, and look all around. What is this place? Dark shapes like buildings looming over, a low misty sky filled with stars, but also cave formations. Everything around you is lit by the orange low of the ribbon of liquid flame you just pulled yourself from. Music fades.And perhaps most oddly of all, you hear a tune, being played on a violin. It sounds as if it is both strung with a bow and plucked with the finger in accompany with itself, and you see a figure in the Shadows coalesce, coming along in strange finery. His jig is played to a certain tune, though lacking any vocals.  The fiddler wears a bizarre motley, and appears to be nothing but bones. He plays joyously upon his fiddle, moving to the step of his own rhythm, as he seems to make a circuitous way near your smoking body where your writhe. Even now, you feel the tune give alight to your feet, as if by compulsion, a danceable number. “Mmm, it’s really happening you…. It’s reeeeeally happening to ya…” His voice is long and drawling, spoken with wonder as much as mockery. “All that trouble for naught, ah, but now we can enjoy the end of days with a smashing party. Get up! Dance with me!” His power seems to actually give you the strength to pick yourself up, movements not entirely you own, as if on marionette strings. You are not quite yet compelled to dance, but at least stand across from this grim, jolly figure. “Will you dance with me, Kaede?” It was all like some kind of joke. It was stupid. Everything that went wrong did, and at the very end, it had nothing to do with you. It just happened. Just like what was supposed to have happened to your dad. Now you’ll be the “accident” everyone talks about but no one actually explains. You’re dead, and there’s no going back. Not like you had anything to live for, right?
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May 7, 2017 00:04
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Scene: Buried Alive, the Seven-to-Seven (Jiro) Incidental Music: What's Your Ask At first, everything is crushing darkness, as your body instinctively squirms, but quickly you spit out some of the inhaled rubble and dirt, choking but gasping for air regardless. Your breath is quick and panting, as the pressure against your chest makes your breaths impossibly shallow, and your body, already giving into exhaustion, can't properly fuel itself. Yet for some reason though you drift into unconsciousness, you keep waking back up, in this half-state of living, completely trapped all around. You are left completely within this and your thoughts, barely coherent. It is not a quick death. It is slow, as your body subsists on the very least amount of air possible. Your lack of strength means that you cannot extricate yourself, but you also have not the means to simply let go. The body fights, even if your mind has been exhausted and there are no options left for it. It is like a machine, pushing itself to its limits. You hear digging, rumbling and even the din of sirens like distant echoes. Emergency personnel were going to come. Would they save Ueno-san? Maybe it'd be Hikaru lifting up that rock just now and digging you out, right? It's one last happy thought, one born of the desperation of a starving, smothered soul, as it lets out a rattle. The lack of oxygen means you slip not into unconsciousness, but a comatose state, as the brain dies itself a slow death. You end up feeling very little pain, but the sheer terror of losing control over every part of your body, of being buried alive in darkness and pressure, will remain with you... Remain with you. Remain with you... ... Scene: The River Id-Kura, Lower Mysteries (Jiro) Incidental Music: Upside DownYou descend, drawing deep into a moving body of water, until you reach the bottom, the crushing weight of the liquid pressure familiar in that terrifying way as was the feeling of being buried alive. Your body wakes meekly, and you have barely the strength to lift an arm. You are hungry, thirsty, exhausted, suffocating, in need of all things, at all times. The water has a saline quality to it, stinging at your eyes, and a sort of dim cerulean color. It is relatively still, moving as languid as you are, but still moving with a sense of inevitability. You drift into sleep, unconsciousness, coma, death... In and out, floating there, until the next time you wake it is upon a shore, coughing up the water. Of course you couldn't drown, as you had already died once before. Your body thirsts, and with your emaciated, crushed hands you reach to cup the water and bring it to you to drink. As you do, it seems to consume you as you consume it, drying you up in a most unnatural way, far different than simple salt water. And yet all the same, it almost compels you to crave it further, as you, laying there in a heap, sup at it even though it gives you no sustenance, as its nature swallows you. Why notice the bones of the city around you? You have to drag yourself out of this. If you drink perhaps just enough water... You hear a low rumbling sound, familiar enough to that earthquake to give you a chill, and a great weight falls upon your back. A porcine beast with a great girth, a representation of some god of the underworld. Its crushing weight as it presses down upon you causes you to rattle out a gasp, and what water you had in your hand and throat. "Bahahaha! How pathetic. Drink as much as you like, and it will give you nothing. All you do, is dare defile the river I see fit to rule!"  It pushes more and more out of you. "What a whelp, not even fit to be a slave. I'll wring out whatever is left in that soul of yours, I can sense its still god a bit out of it. It will keep my hearth warm and my belly full, it will, bahahaha!" It continues to press down, taking its other fore-paw to press down on any grasping hand to prevent any even thought of escape. "You're worthless and weak. Another corpse washed up from Lethe into a graveyard with all the rest." What a kingdom it was, of spare buildings and a desolate cityscape not completely unlike Tokyo, but with black sand like a desert washing between its streets, and here, this river of consumption. "Just like your brother," it says, snorting in its boarish way. Your brother... You couldn't save him. You couldn't even hold onto him in this world, even after all his attempt to protect you. In the very beginning giving his life so you can live, and now you have lost even that, after all he did for you. Do you even deserve to live? What is there worth living for, to someone like you? Scene: Somewhere Safe, Seven-to-Seven (Mako) Incidental Music: Grass is Always Greener"You're going to have to pay for that." Amid everything else, that was the dismissive remark that Momoka opens with, not answering the question at first as she continues to stare at her phone. The other employees are willing to look the other way, especially since both the assistant manager Jiro and manager Ikki are fond of you, but Momoka has an antipathy that is a little uncomfortable for a child to have to deal with, much less you in this frightening scenario. Yet, she's human, and has empathy. It kicks in after a few moments when she sets the phone down, and looks at you a little harder with her heterochromatic eyes (which always struck you as a little odd, why does she get special eyes and no one else does?), frowning. "Hisakawa didn't show, and Yakumo works tomorrow. Sorry." She tilts her head a bit. "Where are your parents, anyway? Geez, it's really late." She doesn't seem to mind the candy at this point as she takes a bit of a look around. "It's ok, I get it. I used to get lost all the time when I was your age too. Do you have your parent's number?" When you don't answer, either out of fear, or if you just aren't sure, she shakes her head. "I'm going to call Ikeda-san. He'll know what to do. Just stay put right? You can have a Godzooky slush too. I'm gonna use the public phone, just let me know if anyone comes in. I'll probably hear the chime, but whatever..." Luckily she doesn't have to leave the room, just walk over to where the wall phone is, and start dialing on that, while you get another sweet to distract you and put all the pieces together. This is a safe place, like the nun said. You find a seat of sorts on an empty display shelf near the wall where Momoka is, her back to you, so you don't have to let her out of your sight. Monsters can only get you that way, after all. The lights flicker slightly. Of course, she isn't looking back at you... Growing slowly, from something the size of a keyhole and expanding with two hands, more claws, that extrude and pull out the widening hole, a weird Technicolor portal appears against the surface behind you, unseen. You can feel the opening pressure, that chill up your spine that reminds you of then. And then, a spate of laughter, laughter that reminds you of your father. Action Music: Lights OutA bright green, humanoid being with a laughing, sharp-toothed grin and beady golden eyes emanates from this tear, grasping quickly and putting its hand over your mouth, silencing your scream in just a moment. With a sudden shock of movement, you are wrenched back into the portal, disappearing and leaving your slushie hitting the ground, spilling and melting against the floor, and your father's dim laughter echoing softly into nothingness. A dialtone echoes across the store as the lights flicker further. The wall phone's receiver hangs from the wall, as everything goes still and it swings like a pendulum. There's no trace of Momoka Ueno, or Mako Deguchi, in the 7-to-7. They have disappeared. Disappeared. Disappear. ... Scene: The River Hun Hunahpu, Lower Mysteries (Mako) Incidental Music: Upside DownYou roll, roll through nothingness and blackness, until you feel a silt against your skin shifting, a dust that stings the eyes and your nose. You inhale it, moving through muddy, choked waters filled with a grimy veneer of frothing dust, the color and consistency of bone. Yet as you taste it, inadvertently as you do, it is alarmingly pleasant to taste, touching your sweet tooth like a cold chocolate. You gasp, your arms freed of whatever had restrained you earlier, your memories hazy like an abductee, just released from the mothership. Weren't you supposed to be the alien? You float in the grimy river. You never learned to swim properly, as your parents never took you out to the beach or anything like that, though you thought it would be an adventure. It's all you can do to paddle and keep your head above the water, trying to observe the world around you. Dark shapes of Tokyo-like buildings, this winding river, and dust all around. The stars above twinkle amid crystal stalagmites, and there's a weird colorfulness to them all the same, scintillating like distant disco balls of light. As they occupy your eyes, you do not notice the net set to catch you, letting the dusty water dredge through it. Sticky and tensile, the spider's web catches you, drawn across a narrow strip of the river, catching the floating bones and souls like you that pass through. The more you struggle, the more it tangles you, as you do your best to try and get out. As soon as you let out a sound, voluntary or otherwise, it elicits a response from a sickly sweet voice. "Fufufufu, just where have you fallen from, fly-chan?"  A arachnid aspected woman with many legs and wearing kimono nests here upon this spectral web, though does not approach, keeping her distance as the web vibrates with every little movement, and she seems to get to work spinning some sort of garment, which quickly takes the shape of something like a straightjacket before your eyes. "You poor thing, taken cruelly and so young. It is lucky that I found you before anyone else did." Her golden eyes glitter as her fangs glimmer and she regards you. "At least you died before you had any time to really know how to suffer. A good death is one without any pain." The venom is obvious in her words, and her saliva. Was that... thing your father? Did the sea monster get him? What happened to you, and Momoka-chan? You feel like you're about to cry, but now it's like a folk tale and you're in some spider's web. To be eaten for being a girl who didn't love her parents enough before they are gone, and they certainly aren't around to help her now. What else was there to live for?
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May 7, 2017 01:14
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Scene: The River Phlegethon, Lower Mysteries Incidental Music: Upside Down Pain. Dull, faint, muted. But pain. Even if she closed her eye It hurt to think. Hurt to move. Hurt to live. ‘Live.’ Less a thought, more an instinct, but enough to move what remained of her forward. Struggle. Push through the hellfire. Through the flames. Had to. Because… because… the girl covered in burns could not remember why. She just had to keep moving forward. That was all she knew. All that she could do. In life, and in- A hand stretches out. Catches onto something. Something she can’t see. She feels it with her right. Metal. Rebar. Familiar. Stable. The girl covered in burns tightens her grip. Pulls herself up, out of the inferno. Because… because… can’t stop to think. Will just slow her down. Concentrate on something else. She waits. Her right eye eventually recovers, and she looks. Looming buildings. Star-lit sky. River running orange. Where- Music fades.Her concentration shifts. A noise. No, a song. Song? Here? Why, who, how? The girl covered in burns turns to face the music. Strange figure. Strange finery. Strange everything. Skeleton playing a violin. What. He draws nearer, the song grows louder. He circles her to the tune, her own scarred and nerveless limbs start to shake. She moves, not to the beat, but to her feet. Not the time, not the place, to dance. But, etiquette. Should look people in the eye (?) when talking to them. That was polite. That was respectful. That was expected. The skeletal violinist begins to speak. Odd voice. Odd way of speaking. Annoying. But she listens. And she hears. And she thinks. Ah, I’m really dead then. Of course. How could she not be? But even if it was for a short time, the girl covered in burns wanted to believe. To cling onto hope. That somehow, this was just a dream. A hallucination. A figment of her imagination. But it was not to be. Of course. Things never seemed to go her way. Such was life, was it not? It left as quickly as it came. So stupid. All of it. All of this. Living. Dying. All of it had been so… pointless. Why had she continued to work at that tiresome club, that tiresome store, all this time? Why had she accepted such abuse, such exploitation from those like Momoka Ueno, all this time? Why had she pushed herself forward through life, through death for, all this time? Why? Why!? Why…? An answer. She needed an answer. The girl covered in burns knew there had to be an answer, right…? Something worth struggling for, something worth fighting for, something worth living for. Something worth dying for. Right? Her friends? Didn’t have any, none that were truly close to her. Her family? A father long dead, a mother and brothers ever distant, and Akira… an uncle she loved, she owed, but barely knew, barely understood. Her work, her co-workers? Meaningless. Bothersome. An obligation. Something, something, something! The music droned ever louder in her ear, yet ever gentler. Soothing, relaxing. Luring. Something… surely there was something… The girl covered in burns’ right hand clenches unconsciously. Metal. Rebar. Familiar. Stable. A reminder. Of dozens of hours poured into Akira’s garage. Fixing, repairing, tinkering. Cars. Others. His. Hers. It wasn’t much. But it was hers. To mod. To drive. To go wherever she pleased, whenever she pleased. No worries, no concerns. Just a hand on the wheel, foot on the pedal. Nothing could catch her, nothing could stop her. Nothing could hold her down. Nothing could hold her back. She was free. Unchained. Unwound. Unbound. “Ah.” Hoarse. Scorched. Painful to talk. “Yeah. That’s it, isn’t it. Something so simple, so stupid, it makes me,” a cough, “want to kick myself. If someone told me this was their reason for living, I’d kick them.” The girl covered in burns laughs, if only for a short time. But it is genuine, if almost mad laughter. She turns to the violinist with a conflicted smile. “Sorry, Skeleton-san, but I can’t join your dance just yet. Not when I died like this. Accidental. Pointless. My death, out of my hands? I can’t accept that.” That was it. That was all. Because on the road, in the car, behind the wheel- Kaede felt in control of her own fate. TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 04:32 on May 7, 2017 |
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May 7, 2017 01:24
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Scene: Crashing Wave, near the Seven-to-Seven (Takeshi) Incidental Music: Wake Up the President You dash out, through the blinding sheets of rain, running as fast as your legs can take you breathless against it. You'd almost slip if not for the railing at one point as you make your way up to the pedestrian bridge, but as you close in Momoka turns to face you. Any moment of hesitation here could be fatal. You reach out to grab her, as she seems unresponsive, almost catatonic, and for just a moment she pushes back, looking at you, almost angry. She speaks the words, "What the hell are you doing here? Leave me!" Yet the anger subsided almost immediately into pleading. "Please, don't..." Being pulled away. It's possible that her hesitation slowed you both enough. Or maybe you were just doomed to begin with. You could hear it coming down, bearing like a train down on you, and she just held onto you, holding tight with her head against your chest, umbrella falling just before the wall of water came crashing down. You feel it surge through and lift you up, and you hold ontoi her with the current as hard as you can, swept away and knocked over the barrier of the pedestrian bridge down into the sweeping, surging current of the canal. It is not quick, but it is violent. You are moving at a huge speed, and almost immediately hit, and hit hard, into a light post, right in the shoulder, knocking you both into a spin, but you hold on. She hits something, you aren't sure what, and hear the snap of her leg. You can barely see or breathe anything in the dark churning waters, bobbing in and out, and eventually you feel your head hit some debris, loosening your grip and having your consciousness move in and out. You feel it, a jerk, and her body slipping away. She's gone. The undertow grips your crushed body, and pulls it under, as you gasp and swallow, taking on water as your concussed min tries to make sense of everything. Your body is chewed and spat out again and again, at various stages of consciousness, but at a certain point the mangling is all a blur. At a certain point, the surge has to subside. When it does, all is numbing blackness to you, gasping even still to life, choking on water, before giving out. ... A body washes up amid debris from flooding in the streets, face down in the pile of garbage and detritus that had been swept with it, on the concrete edge to a storm sewer canal, while emergency sirens blare and teh city awakens to the post-disaster. It is crushed and lifeless, just another piece of trash in the end. Just a piece of trash. A piece of trash. Scene: The River Sinaan, Lower Mysteries (Takeshi) Incidental Music: Upside DownYou are in a pit, falling and falling, and feeling the movement of a thousand legs crawling all over you, of manibles caressing your skin. It is waking up within a plague, all around, of gleaming black carapaces. You cough up water immediately, still soaking wet and drenched, with a start as if from a bad dream, your adrenaline kicked into its highest gear, and yet your bones are still twisted and broken inside your body, making every movement a monumental effort. And move you want to do, as you realize you are covered and carried by a massive river of scorpions. Perhaps better described as a parade of arachnids of various shapes and sizes, but all black in color and with poisonous stingers, every movement courts a powerful toxin, that further paralyzes a broken body, and claws that pinch and pull and otherwise carry by its momentum through the march your torpid body along their way, like a spoil of victory. You are the prey, a prize, food for their sakes, and they pull and nibble at your skin even if it finds no real purchase. The venom is toxic, but how can you die if you've already been crushed by a wave? Yet you writhe, contort, and coil as best you can, with cries of pain both from within and without, finding a protrusion of the local dark sand at the banks, crawling with shuddering movements with one good arm, as the other limbs are twisted into painful, unusable shapes. Sliding into that, you look up, and find even here, in Hell, the edifices of society gazing down in judgment upon you. Looming skyscrapers, colorful billboards in dead languages, flickering neon lights and a starry cave ceiling hanging abvove you, and a humid, sepulchre air that hangs all around. Still crawling in your clothes, you swat and bat to try and remove as much from your person, returning to the parade they came from, and look around, for any source of water. You've retched up all that was in your lungs, but you have a powerful thirst regardless. Dragging yourself through the sand and leaving a serpentine trail as you do, you arrive at what looks to be a pool of it in the sand, like an oasis, that glows with a ghostly light. You reach out to the misty pool of water, and find it moving, twisting up in a coiled shape into a great dragon, its coils reaching out and binding about your body all in but an instance.  "What is it." It asks, in an immaterial voice, the only solid part of itself a mask-life face. "Is it prey. Is it not-prey. We shall take its eyes to see, and its heart to know." You feel its coils like that tsunami's crashing waves and pressure, pulling at different directions to pull you in and keep you suspended, though it still seems less than certain. There is no pretense in it, or sense of trickery. It is a monster, and it is in the process of discerning whether or not you are food. It seems to make a decision, like most animals, quickly. "First, eyes." You have never had control over your life. You have always wanted to reach out, but the one time you did actually stand for something, the very essence of the world itself, nature, swatted you like an insect. Now you're just some guts for this snake-god to consume, in its grasp. You weren't ever good for anything in life. A piece of trash to rifle through just marking down the days. Even the concerts you make time to try and catch during a rainstorm kind of blow. So what is there, anyway? What is there to live for that's worth all that headache? Scene: Back Alley, Seven-to-Seven (Sayuri) Incidental Music: Gearing UpNakao-san seems to consider for a few moments. "Yes, that would be agreeable." Momoka however was dubious. "You aren't leaving Hisakawa until the police get here. Shouldn't you file a report? He attacked you, did he steal anything?" Your pendant, that's right. The homeless man had your pendant. She didn't seem to be willing to just let you leave though, maybe out of genuine concern even, not that you asked for it. Noting this, Nakao-san nodded once. "If that animal took anything from you, maybe they can help find it." Animal, not person. That sounded like you. The real you. He approached, carefully, but composed, looking to Momoka with a nod, as if to assuage her doubts and confirm her thought. "Let's go inside," she said, holding open the door, letting you both back into the back room. Momoka is messing with her cell phone to call emergency services. Nakao-san is the last one inside, closing the door behind him and considering for a few moments. "Do you have video cameras back here that the police can look at they get here?" Momoka looked up from the phone and shook her head, looking back away. "All the cameras are in the front, they wouldn't have caught anything in the alleyway. Dismissive of the entire thought, though Nakao as ever seems to be considering things very carefully, adjusting his glasses once with a reflective flash with his free hand. "I see." He glances down, while you find a place to hold yourself and calm down, while Momoka begins to go through the 119 call on the phone. He retrieves a MP3 player with earbuds, even setting the blooided tire iron aside, right between both you and him, and places the earbuds in his ear, the light from his mp3 player reflecting off his glasses. There's a feeling you can't quite explain at this moment, looking at it between the two of you. Everything has been going so fast, it feels like a dream. But what if you were to reach out and take it? You didn't, though, did you. Maybe you know why, but at the time, you didn't know there would be a reason to. You do now. Nakao-san hits play on the device, and you can faintly hear the music coming out over the earbuds, though it seems to get louder as the scene plays out. Switch Music: Winter First Movement"Music helps me relax when things are stressful," he says, not really making conversation as much as a declaration. "Maybe it would help you." You can just faintly hear the music, but you hear something else as well, happening like the crack of lightning. A whistling sound, and then a sudden impact and crack. Again, you braced for pain that didn't come. Instead, Momoka hits the ground, slumped over as the cell phone clatters, and with a second swing as she sputters and turns over on her back, he hits her jaw, dislocating it bloodily right there in front of you. You feel yourself more an observer than anything to these proceedings. As if they are not actually happening to you. Perhaps you are shocked. But maybe you are just trying to figure out where to try and escape. The front, the back door? What to do? Was it indecision that rooted you there in place, or something else? You knew it was coming, even as you fled, running and breaking in a direction, though ultimately it didn't matter, as your run was stopped short with a yank of your hair as he grabbed onto it, pulling you back. Your glasses fall to a clatter on the floor. It didn't matter if you screamed either. You're all the way in the back, and it's closed regardless. But maybe you scream regardless. For his part, Tsutomu Nakao looks almost apologetic. "I'm sorry. It was never meant to be you. But you're in the way." At first he's just strangling you with his bloodied hand, pinned up against the wall. But that darker, that other part of you, that was already called to the surface before, comes back out enough to rake at his eyes, causing him to wrench back. "You... shouldn't have done that..." He says, with an increasingly threadbare control, turning back and swiping the bar across your face. It glances on your head, breaking it open as blood trickles down the front, stinging at your eyes. He kicks you in the legs, sweeping you down to hit on the floor, and pin you under his knees. "Shut up." He tries to keep you still, and then strikes, again, and again, as each time your struggles are more feeble, and your face and head caves into a bloody mess above the brow, his face contorted in disgust, though it doesn't feel at the act of killing. The sort of look you get when you step on vile, or smash an insect. The sort of look you gave your co-workers all the time. With another thud, everything is black and pain. ... The body slides with a soft sound through the alleyway, towards where the car is parked at the end of the alley, where another already waits in the trunk. The blood trickles onto a garbage bag underneath it, the face unrecognizable under all the viscera, but the clothing and nametag certainly enough to identify her. The phone, stained with blood, still sits, buzzing, in the storeroom, and there are sirens to be heard in the distance. Of course, they'll be looking for someone else, someone you called worthless garbage. As for you, you'll be in a bag for such refuse, never to be seen again. Never to be seen again. Never seen again. Scene: The River Qiq-ol-Mal, Lower Mysteries (Sayuri) Incidental Music: Upside DownBlood. Your eyes were blinded by it, and now you sink through it, as it chokes you, suffuses everything within you. A scalding, steaming river of bubbling ichor, that carries your battered body just as it was dragged through the alleyway like an overfull bag of trash. You drift in and out of consciousness and memory, remembering things you should not have been able to remember, and forgetting some things you should. Eventually, you get the strength to push out, rolling your body over slightly to kick your feet, one head holding at your wounded, ruined face, glasses missing. You see through stinging eyes and red what looks like to be Tokyo. Perhaps you are still alive? You move under a walkway and reach upwards, grasping onto an overhanging chain and holding yourself for a moment, using it maneuver closer to the edge and pick yourself from the concrete and sand bank at the edges of the river of blood. Absolutely drenched and colored crimson by the congealing liquid, you strugge up the side and take a look around, holding against yourself with a sudden chill as you realize that this isn't Tokyo. You're most certainly not alive, either. You wander, for just a time, in this completely empty and abandoned place. There's wind and a distant howling, but no signs of life, or movement. Occasionally, a neon sign flickers on, promising in some language you don't quite understand some dark sin. Above, stars look down impassively from a misty cave ceiling, and you see the occasional droplet, like a constant shower of rain, hit the ground. When you taste it upon your tongue, its got a cold, refreshing taste, but grainy like minerals. You shudder through the empty alleyways, looking for any sign of life. You find something, but it isn't what you would hope.  A spectral figure seems to stand quite a distance away, binoculars at hand and a twisted grin even you can see from here. It doesn't make any movements, or even speak, standing long down the alleyway. It simply watches. You quickly decide that this isn't someone to pursue, and try to move down a different direction, only to find in every direction you turn it awaits you, and seems to be getting closer, only occasionally seeming to observe with its binoculars, radiating an innate menace as it does. Is it worth running, or even hiding? It didn't keep you alive before. You kept your head down, played nice, and tried to live up to everyone's expectations. And yet you died bloody, at the hands of malice completely unearned. You weren't even the intended victim, just a bystander, as you were through your whole life. You aren't even good enough to be some trophy on a wall, just a nuisance to be swat, just like they always told you. For someone like that, there isn't anything left to have, if they no longer have their life. What else could you have to live for? Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 02:51 on May 7, 2017 |
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May 7, 2017 02:40
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