(Administrator)
SHSL Bacon
(Year Bacon)
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Post by Bacon M on Aug 27, 2016 4:34:32 GMT
Chiaki died. People investigated. Students figured it out. The funeral. Four days after Chiaki was found dead, the funeral was held on the grounds of Hope's Peak Academy at her parents' urging, since she loved that school more than anything, 'she loved the school more than games' they said. It was hard to get the principal to agree, but in the end, he agreed, and classes were cancelled for the day but the grounds where the funeral was being held was off limits to any student not attending the funeral.
Chiaki's body was cleaned up and put into her favorite hoodie and skirt, as that was what she would've wanted according to her parents. A single game system, one of her very first was placed between her hands. The casket was at the front, and now all they had to do was wait until everyone arrived. The casket was open, and despite the fact she was dead, and her head was dented on the back, she looked as though she could wake up at any moment. But her cold skin told you otherwise. Chiaki Nanami was dead, and she was laying there.
Such a poor girl with such a cruel fate. Suicide was the official story, but there were rumors floating around there was foul play. Of course, all they were, were whispers, except for those few who had been recruited, who knew what had truly happened to Chiaki. The truth was discovered, but they couldn't tell a soul. They couldn't tell everyone that someone killed her, that they knew who killed her, that Chiaki didn't kill herself. Else they would be punished and nothing would come of it. Perhaps Kyo Tsukino would erase everyone's memories of them telling others, or perhaps he would make them out to be crazy. Who knew? It was safer to keep quiet.
One by one the people would gather, and once they did the funeral would begin with a speech from her parents, then those closest to her.
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(Student)
SHSL Procrastinator
(Year 2)
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Post by Daniel Saotome on Sept 2, 2016 9:13:28 GMT
 I like to take my sweet time doing things.
After all, it's not like the world ends tomorrow, right? Words: ### | Tag: @username | Notes: notes here It's been a few days since that makeshift trial Mr. Tsukino put up, where Daniel and Willow investigated. The Procrastinator showed mostly because he felt obligated to, since the deceased Gamer, Chiaki, was his classmate.
He thought about telling his girlfriend Kaneko about this, but then decided against it. Who knew if Mr. Tsukino still had trackers and microphones and god-knows-what else placed on everyone who participated.
When Kaneko asked him why he was late on the day of the trial, he had to both lie and be truthful at once, so he told her that Mr. Tsukino gave him some schoolwork to do.
Fortunately she didn't dig deeper, or Daniel would've been in big trouble.
Daniel still couldn't help but sigh whenever he thought back to the trial.
Nevertheless, he's there at the funeral, waiting for things to get going.
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(Student)
SHSL Trickster
(Year 2)
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Post by Willow Fey on Sept 5, 2016 1:36:22 GMT
Willow Chapter 1 final scene: Dreams
Willow had dreams. They were often foggy and unclear but...mostly he had learned to trust them. And in his mind he saw an image, again and again, of Nagito's smiling face holding a gun to his own head.
The trickster got up, at first trying to ignore these foggy dreams and trying to decide what he would do with the day. Then he realized. Ah yes, the funeral. He would have to check on Nagito after all.
Willow quickly got ready and headed to Nagito's dorm. The last couple of days had been...crazy. Even without the murder, Ultimate Despair and Future Foundation stuff. It was all pretty fascinating. Much better then he anticipated. If he played this right, his goals would only be furthered by that crazy cult and the secret society that fought them.
But before anything, he had to pay his respects, and help tend to the grieving boyfriend.
Willow knocked on the door. After a few moments Nagito opened the door in a dreamy state, half dressed. For a couple moments he simply stared listlessly before snapping back to a more tired version of his normal self.
"Ha ha. Hello Fey-kun. What are you doing here so early? Looking to take advantage of me in my grieving state? Don't worry. I don't mind. My body is at the mercy of any Ultimate. And I must admit that I do find you quite handsome Fey-kun." Nagito babbled.
"Mr. Komaeda, I have no intention of taking advantage of you. In any sense. I merely wanted to make sure you were alright, and that you make it to the funeral." Willow said.
"An Ultimate like you shouldn't have to worry about checking up on trash like me. " Nagito said, his face contorting into that self deprecating smile of his. "Besides I shouldn't attend the funeral. No one would want me there and....seeing her body....I've seen enough bodies of people I love."
Willow grabbed Nagito by his shirt collar and dragged him inside his room.
"So you are taking advantage of me. This is wonderful! I can be of use to an Ultimate. Please defile me in any way you wish. Hurt me if you want. It makes no difference to-" Nagito said before he felt his head hit the back of his wall. He yelped involuntarily.
"Listen up Nagito. Your going to get dressed. Your going to attend this funeral and you are going to do exactly as I say. For today, you are mine and mine alone. Got it." Willow said, his face an inch from Nagito's, his voice dangerously low. He would prefer to use less force then this. But talking to Nagito was prone to misunderstandings and he wanted to make things perfectly clear.
"Y-yes. Of course Fey-kun. I'll do...anything for you. I just want to see your Hope blossom. I know it will be spectacular. I just-" Nagito said.
"Quiet." Willow said and Komaeda shut up instantly. Like the good dog he was.
"Good. You will help me with my "hope" Nagito. You are going to be a good little servant. And like all good little servants, you won't leave your masters side unless he orders you to. Got it Komaeda-kun? And you have permission to speak now." Willow said.
"Of course Master Fey-sama. I'll do whatever I am able." Nagito said. Willow gave him a smile and a pat on the head.
"Good. Not get dressed and come with me." Willow said.
In a matter of moments Nagito had tossed on some acceptable funeral attire and the two began making their way to the funeral. They took their places back away from the casket. Willow thought it was best to restrict Nagito's contact with the body for now.
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(Student)
SHSL Programmer
(Year 1)
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Post by Chihiro Fujisaki on Sept 7, 2016 9:57:30 GMT
 Tightly, he gripped his phone, waiting with a quickly beating heart as the other person typed. It said that they were typing. Probably for just about a minute, but it felt like an eternity. He felt himself tense up when a new message popped up under his previous one.
"There is truly no need to blame yourself over something that only she had control of. You aren't weak. Strength comes in many forms, Fujisaki. Going to say goodbye to her is strong."
Deep down, he knew she was right. Wallowing like this wasn't going to bring her back. That is part of what his friend was trying to tell him. Though it did go a bit deeper than that. After a minute of ruminating over her words, he began to tap against the screen again.
"Okay.. I'm kind of running a bit late, I think. Sorry if it's a bother, Gekkogahara, but may I come over to your dorm sometime soon? Maybe tomorrow?"
Miaya is typing...
"Not a bother at all. I'm free around 7:30 today if you want. Drop by whenever."
Breathing a sigh of relief, he managed a smile. Quickly, before throwing his phone on the bed, Chihiro typed out.
"Thank you."
Straight after, he was walking out his dorm door. As he stepped out, a chill ran down his spine. There certainly was a gloomy atmosphere in this school. Hit him like a semi truck. At least he'd be able to get in a talk session with Miaya soon, though.. Lying was horrible.
Miaya Gekkogahara. She worked with him and Yasuke Matsuda on a special project. It was in the early phases, but.. what they were doing was amazing. Though, he hadn't attended since before Chiaki's death, for obvious reasons. Though he wasn't too close to Yasuke, who was a bit of a jerk sometimes, Miaya and him had grown into friends. Though, as the Ultimate Therapist, she also helped him out. His father had encouraged it. She was the only person in the school who knew that he was a boy, besides the teachers, probably.
Though he wanted to tell her every single detail about what happened to Chiaki, truthfully, he couldn't. He had to lie. He had to feign ignorance that her death was a murder until Kyo erased his memories. What surprised him was that he wanted to keep them, and know the truth.. Why? It was a huge burden. Knowing that Airi didn't just elope with a guy, or become a NEET in another town as rumors have been saying. That she had killed his friend and was taken away.
Not to mention, while going to get food from the cafeteria, he passed.. Her. Junko Enoshima. The way her eyes stared into him as they crossed paths was terrifying. He had a feeling she knew what had happened in the biology lab.
Still.. even with all that, he rather keep his memories. Was that strong.. or weak?
As he finally made it to the area where they were holding the funeral, his body froze when he saw her body. Already, tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. This was too cruel. Just too horrible. She really was gone.
Words: 538 |
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(Student)
SHSL Film Director
(Year 3)
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Post by Mariko Nakazawa on Sept 7, 2016 16:34:42 GMT
[/font] Never mind it was still a month away so why would the school be putting up decorations right now? Then again why do stores put up Christmas decorations right after Halloween? It was the same general thing, more or less. [/ul] |
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(Student)
SHSL Con Artist
(Year 2)
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Post by Hoshi Kisuragi on Sept 13, 2016 17:11:08 GMT
 I'm wont be sorry for what I've done. You can trust me.
Nor And for what I'll be doing.
And so it was time for a funeral. The proper send-off for a gentle soul, one whose time was tragically cut short. All because some batshit crazy girl wanted to spread Despair.
Sighing, Hoshi woke up that morning to be hit by quite the bad hangover. Pulling himself away from his pillow, he sat upright and just... stared listlessly at the floor. He didn't even bother to try and think back to last night, knowing full well that the only thing he'll draw are blanks. It's happened enough times now already anyways that he's familiar with the sensation, and so he resigned himself to what was probably going to be a shitty day of recovery.
Wanting to go to the bathroom for a long and cold shower, Hoshi stood up just a little too fast. Light-headed, he felt his legs buckle out from beneath him. The world seemed to be spinning. He tried and reached out to try and grab something for support, but his hand clutched nothing but air. Hitting the ground, he would have laid there if not for the bile he felt begin to build up in his throat. Scrambling for the bathroom door, he pushed it open and made a beeline for the toilet.
God knows how long had passed between then and now, but when he finally stopped dry heaving, his shirt stuck to his back in a mat of cold sweat. Still hugging the bowl, Hoshi raised his groggy head to catch sight of something scrawled on his arm. It was written in pen, and he eventually made the message out to be one that reminded him of an important event happening today.
As quickly as he could without feeling two steps away from death, he tried to prep himself as best he could in this state of his for Chiaki's send off. After drinking straight from the tap, he showered, brushed his teeth and picked out some formal clothes to wear - a black vest over a collared gray shirt, sleeves rolled up. Slipping on matching colored pants, he grabbed a black tie and stood in front of a mirror to try and get the damn thing to look, in the very least, decently straight.
Before stepping out the door, Hoshi popped two pills from a bottle in his drug cabinet that he remembers to be somewhat effective in combating hangovers... or something like that. Hell, at this point he'll even take placebos. It's Chiaki's funeral, and he didn't want to mess it up in any way, shape or form.
He made his way to the fields with hands in his pockets, all the while trying not to let the weather and the loud students and seemingly everything else from putting him in an even worse mood. Barely looking up from the ground beneath his feet, after arriving Hoshi just hung in the back of the crowd, quietly minding his own business. A part of him thought of walking up to see her one last time, but... but yeah, actually. Let's do that.
Silently making his way through the crowd, he didn't bother to acknowledge any of the familiar faces that he thought he had saw. There's time for them later, but for his deceased friend...
Needless to say, this will be one of the last times he'll ever be able to take a proper look at her. It was time to bid Chiaki Nanami farewell.
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(Student)
SHSL Scientist
(Year 4)
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Post by Alexander Root on Sept 14, 2016 2:54:47 GMT
 Those we love don't go away;
they walk besides us everyday.
Root had originally said he was too busy to go to the funeral… and really he would have been, if he remembered that today Mariko was getting in and he was going to try to see if they could hang out with each other today. After all, uh, the person who died (he forgot her name again) would've wanted him to smile and be happy right? Instead of mourn over her death, or whatever.
However, being the asshole he was, Root dressed up in all black, a suit he had bought not too long ago though he rarely ever had worn it (originally it had different color shirt, but he bought a black one and a black tie for this occasion). It was so weird. He stared at his lab coat longingly, wondering if he should wear it. After all, he didn't give a rat's ass what others thought of him, but at the same time, the words his mother would've told him rang in his mind 'you should respect the dead'. Sighing, Root looked in a mirror, and ran his hand through his hair. Was he really going to waste his time going to some murdered girl's funeral? Root didn't even have an attachment to this girl. Chiaki! That was her name.
Root pulled out his notebook from his jacket pocket and circled the name Chiaki so he would remember that was the girl's name. He vaguely remembered Chiaki… where had he met her before this? Hm… Well unless she was at the couple of Japanese science conferences, or one out of town, then probably not. Oh well. He probably bumped into at some point at Hope's Peak. After all they did go to the same school. A visual of a young girl smiling and tilting her head towards him appeared in his head. Was that how Chiaki looked? He doubted it. It was probably a figment of his imagination. Nevertheless, the way he imagined her she had a really nice smile.
Closing his eyes, Root focused on controlling his feelings. It was weakness to feel bad for a girl he didn't even remember knowing, but it was a shame… it was sad that someone like her… well if she was like he imagined her to be, was gone from this world. He kicked the wall lightly as a single tear fell down his face and he turned towards the door of his dorm room (which before this he rarely ever used) and opening it, a look of determination on his face.
When he made it to the funeral area, he had been hanging at the back, watching the others go up and pay their respects. Root was going to do it afterwards. However, from this distance... oh god, he wasn't imagining her face. Where did he see her before? It was killing him. It wasn't just when she was found dead on the steps, because he never saw that. Where did he see her? Curse his memory. He felt like it was highly important. He worked so hard thinking of when it could've been, but there were so many holes in his memory it could've been in any of them.
He could feel a pair of warm arms around him, his face screwing up with confusion. He stared down at the brown haired girl who was hugging him completely and totally incredulous. Why was she…?
"What the fuck are you doing?"
She didn't release the hug, but she answered, her voice slightly muffled. "Whatever happened today, whatever is making you sadder than normal, senpai… I wanted to let you know you're not alone."
Oh right. Today was that day. The day his mother died all those years ago. Root huffed and turned his head in defiance. "Nothing happened, leave me alone."
She released the hug and tilted her head with a smile. "If you ever wanna play a game, come find me!" She giggled and ran off.
But… that didn't feel like it was all. Back then… she didn't even introduce herself, like they had known each other… What the fuck was wrong with him? He completely forgot a person and only now that she was dead was he remembering. Or… or maybe he had forgotten after she was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain. That was a common occurrence, especially with someone with as bad of memory as he had.
"O-Oh…"
A petite girl had run into him. He was a lot shorter at this point, and she wasn't that much shorter than he was. A second year at Hope's Peak.
"Watch where you're going!" He barked out the order with a growl on his face.
"I-I-I'm sorry…" the girl said quietly bowing her head. Root looked down at her, his scowl softening.
"Are you lost, hm? Where are you trying to go?"
"A-A gaming… thing. I-I was invited and…"
"I've heard of it. C'mon, I'll show you." Root's scowl didn't leave his face, but he led the young girl down the street. At first it was silent. Root kept asking himself what he was doing, but he knew in his heart he had to help this lost scared young girl. "Where's your parents?"
"I-I don't know… They… I lost them," the girl said with a sniffle. Root grimaced though not in annoyance this time, more in concern. He sighed and offered his hand to the younger girl.
"I won't let you lose me too. You'll find your parents where you're going, I'm sure. If not, I'll stay with you until you do find them," Root promised, though his facial expression had yet to change despite his words.
"Th-Thank you," Chiaki took his hand and he led her down the street, to the nearby gaming center where today they were holding a huge tournament. "M-My name's Chiaki Nanami."
"Hmph." Root held onto the young girl's hand taking in her name. He pulled out a notebook with his free hand and balanced it on his forearm, contorting it at a weird angle, writing the name down as he walked. "Alexander Root."
"Alexander Root?"
"That's my name. Don't wear it out. Call me Root. Don't… Don't call me Alexander," Root replied as he finagled his notebook into a writing position. They had reached the gaming center, but Chiaki didn't seem to see her parents yet. However, the tournament was just about to begin. Root lived up to his promise and sat in a corner, watching Chiaki play at the tournament. She looked more confident while playing a game than when she wasn't. Hm. Interesting.
Finally, when the tournament was over, Chiaki had finished in first, and honestly, Root was entrapped by the finals, the two battling it out. This nobody that was Chiaki versus the crowned best gamer in the world. Root watched with great interest, and when it was finally over, Root realized he'd forgotten why he was there in the first place… until she came back up to him and hugged him.
"Th-Thank you so much, Root," Chiaki said. Root grinned a half-smile and patted her back, however, the moment was soon to end as the screeching voice resembling a pterodactyl reached their ears.
"CHIAKI NANAMI! What are you doing with that stranger?!?"
Fuck. He was crying now. Luckily he was at the back so no one could see unless they turned around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How could he have forgotten that? Why was she… here? That… That was why his sister was friends with her, why they met on that roof that night, to train her memory and why they agreed… they knew each other. He and she had… well they had been somewhat friends, though they didn't really see each other that he remembered except those two times.
Root turned away from everything and wiped his tears, missing Mariko coming in completely as he did so, closing his eyes tightly and trying to will the tears to stop. He crouched down, his legs no longer wanting to support him standing up all the way, silently sobbing for a few moments. Finally, he gathered his strength and said fuck it to everyone would see him. He walked up to the casket, his eyes red from the tears. He flipped through his notebook and found a pasted in page from that day. It was two years old by now, but when he transferred to a new notebook, he always made sure that it was in there. He tore the page out and crumpled it up, slipping it into her hand.
Chiaki Nanami - The way she plays her game is so intoxicating, its like her excitement spreads to those around her, those who know her. She is so confident and watching her play makes my heart pump like I was playing the game with her. She looks to be about that age when she could go to HPA. I hope she is recruited, then perhaps we could play a game together some day.
The writing was faded, but the words were easily made out. Root took a seat in one of the chairs provided and waited for the service to begin.
Some guy had walked up to the front and began talking, ending with the question of the hour: "Does anyone wish to say a few words on Chiaki's behalf?"
Somewhere in the background, a blue haired man was looming, watching, waiting to see if anyone of them slipped up. Unseen, unheard, but always near.
Still loved. Still missed.
And very dear. |
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(Student)
SHSL Librarian
(Year 1)
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Post by Paris Eins on Oct 30, 2016 15:28:17 GMT
[attr="class","otl"] [attr="class","otlimg"] [attr="class","otllyrics"]Ever since I was a child I've turned it over in my mind I sang by that piano tore my yellow dress and Cried and cried and cried and I don't wanna see what I've seen, To undo what has been done, Turn off all the lights Let the morning come, Now there's green light in my eyes And my lover on my mind, I'll sing from the piano tear my yellow dress and Cry and cry and cry Over the love of you, On this champagne drunken hope Against the current, all alone Everybody see I love him Cause it's a feeling that you get When the afternoon is set On a bridge into the city [attr="class","otllyric"]I don't wanna see what I've seen [attr="class","otlbody"]SMASH! The Film Director’s camera broke as it connected with the ground, the Librarian’s trembling hands reaching down and scooping up its remains. Killer. Killer.
“You’re a killer, and—“ A slamming door. The murkiness was overwhelming. Suddenly, they were all different. Mariko Nakazawa, her arms nothing but shredded ribbons of carnage. Alexander Root, his face a blur of burnt red and black. Lucca Bello, their boyfriend, his throat slit like a wide smile. Mr. Tsukino, his head crumpled in on one side. They were all dead.
“Killer.”
“Killer.”
“Killer.”
A neverending chant, as the bodies called the Librarian out. Killer, killer, killer, they were a kill—
“Mmph!” Paris swung up from their pillow, eyes squeezed shut as their blanket fell from their face. Their hands—they were wrapped around their own throat. Paris wheezed as the room spun. Lucca was too far away. They had asked him to spend the night; just one night, one night before the funeral came; but he was too harrowed by the trial. So the Librarian was alone, with just the books. In the Actor’s usual spot lay a familiar book; Brothers’ Grimm was there when no one else was. But who did Paris feel like? Were they Red Riding Hood, an innocent traveler screwed over by fate? The grandmother, sickly and waiting for the end? No—Paris was the wolf. A malicious monster whose radical choices would just harm anyone who came to close. That was a fact. There was no symbolism there. Fact.
Today, the Librarian would have to be the axman. The old, venomous Paris of yesterday was about to die.
Donning the suit felt weird—it was usually for some book event, or the occasional dance they could convince everyone to attend. Now it was to go to the funeral of a girl who had been just barely served justice. She didn’t deserve this funeral—she didn’t deserve a funeral at all. Chiaki Nanami deserved more than most to still be walking through the halls, still playing games, still sleeping in the Library until Paris shooed her out. But she wasn’t.
Now it was time to go. Paris slipped two notes into their pocket; their father’s, and a small script prepared for the eulogy at the funeral. They hadn’t known each other well, but nobody spoke more eloquently than the Librarian themself. Their feet carried them almost unwillingly toward the body’s penultimate resting place—if Paris didn’t see her, it wasn’t real. A body was the ultimate symbolism. The cold artificiality was that of winter, of the end of the cycle, something so simultaneously natural and unnatural. It was…the end, for Chiaki. And it shouldn’t have been.
The room itself was gloomy, dark and perfumed. She looked like what she was—a body. Cold, fake. She deserved so much better. The room had a small smattering of people already. A grieving family, several trial members; even those who had their memories wiped had arrived. In the crowd, the most familiar face was Alex’s. Rival. Enemy. Nemesis. Best friend. Best friend? …No. Best friends didn’t accuse one another of murder. The vitriol they had aimed at one another was real. They weren’t friends, no matter how much time they spent together. But…he was the most familiar face. Paris was used to his antics. So they sat down lightly next to him, sighing. The tears couldn’t come now. They just couldn’t. Gently, the Librarian reached down and put their hand over the teary Scientist’s.
“We—“ They dropped their voice to a choked whisper. “We gave her justice, Alex. I…” The thought suddenly flitted into her mind. “I don’t th-think I like murder m-mysteries anymore.”
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(Student)
SHSL Film Director
(Year 3)
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Post by Mariko Nakazawa on Nov 13, 2016 4:20:06 GMT
[/i] A long pause seemed to echo around the room after this question. Nobody seemed to have any words for the "corpse", or maybe it was just that people just forgot their lines they were supposed to memorize, amateurs. Then again even if this was a high school for the ultimates of the world, this was still a high school drama production so the production quality wasn’t exactly high. Plus this seemed like a dress rehearsal so there was a lot of room for improvement. As things stood however she was not very impressed, and after another few minutes of silence the green haired woman got to her feet, stifling a yawn. “Okay, well. You guys have fun with…” She waves a hand in the general direction of Chiaki’s funeral, eyes fighting to stay open. “Whatever this is supposed to be. A quick pro tip though: Get someone who knows what they’re doing for the final production. I mean your “body-“ And she does make air quotes with one hand around body “Looks totally fake. Her skin tone’s all wrong. You can totally tell it’s rubber.”And with that, she wanders off towards the dorm, letting out a huge yawn as she walked and waving halfheartedly at the group who had gathered there as she left. “But, g’luck and g’night. I’ll be in bed for a few days.”[/ul] |
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