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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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...in a mysterious way | event pt 10

But when you awaken…. You are somewhere new.

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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disposable | event pt 8

Unfortunately, not everyone is quick on the draw.

“Oh no! Rowsett-san!!”

You turn to glance back for but a moment, and immediately regret it -- there lies the Cryptozoologist, bloody and broken under a chunk of debris that Monomi is frantically attempting to lift off of them. By the glazed over look you’ve begun to know all too well over the past two months, you can already tell there’s no point to this -- they’re already dead.

You press on. The crowd of people you were once running with seems to have broken off somewhat, and you find yourself somewhat isolated in your path towards the hotel. You hear something not unlike an explosion as the crack on the sky bursts open behind you, jettisoning fragments of stone and debris in all directions to rain on the city below. Something emerges from it… a gazebo?

You don’t really have the time to look too closely. A jolt of pain - almost familiar - strikes the back of your head as you turn to view this event, and you feel your knees buckle as everything goes dark.

At least this way you can take solstice that you didn’t die a murderer.

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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a coward’s luck | event pt 7

You can only watch, helpless, as yet another person makes the plunge, their body dropping somewhere in Ward 2. No one is exactly keen on seeing a dead body by this point, but you… don’t really have much in the way of direction by this point. Except… you turn your attention to Twelve.

"Aha. Nope. Nooo way. Fuck this, I'm out. Good luck, kids!"

And then he just… vanishes. Poof. Like some sort of shitty magician.

Great.

The crack spreads over the sky as though the surface were made of glass, inching slowly across the stars as chunks of… something significantly larger than people… begin to break away from somewhere above. It’s only as the first of the rubble begins to rain down upon the surrounding buildings that Monomi arrives, running as fast as her little plush legs can carry her.

“E-Evwebowdy! To the hotwel! Qwickly! They’re coming!”

Wait a minute. Who’s coming?... Ah, fuck it, the sky is falling - who cares?! She circles around you, as though trying to corral you in that general direction, although when chunks of rock start falling in lieu of people, you don’t really need to be told twice that you need to start running for shelter. You can figure the details out later.

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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i don’t believe in ghosts | event pt 5

Nevertheless, you make your way downstairs and immediately find yourself greeted by that shit-eating grin.

"Hey, hey, what's with the long face? I got somethin' nice for you this week!"

"Ahah, yeah, I felt guilty about taking away your food a while ago, so I went digging through the pantry aaaand...we have sixty-eight pounds of pancake mix! One of you lucky kids is going to have to eat all of this...unless someone gets murdered."

"'Course, if you're the lucky winner, your stomach will probably burst, so you better hope someone takes the bait! Hahah-"

Your host, however, is cut off by the presence of a single white butterfly settling on his nose. He goes to swat it, and it flutters before you, a second joining it not long after. Before you know it, a perpetual swarm is passing overhead, clustering together between you and Twelve to form a tall, vaguely human shape… one that steadily begins to take a form you recognize.

Somewhere, someone within your number begins to weep.

“This isn’t right.” Chou mumbles, as if acknowledging that if this is a prank, it came too soon, too tasteless… before flickering out of existence. Her voice, however, lingers long after her image fades.

“… And it’s out of my hands. It’s out of your hands.”

A rumble that shakes your core comes from above you then, and you hear one of your classmates shriek. A hand pointed up towards the starry sky reveals… a shooting star? No, it’s human shaped, and it’s shrieking its way downwards on a crash course with the toy store. You only truly realize that when the human meteor crashes through the roof with a wet crunch and a cloud of dust, causing the boards to shift and collapse upon themselves.

“I… don’t think there’s any way they could survive a fall like that… medically speaking.” You hear Michiko speak out, her response almost a bit robotic; she’s trembling, though, she manages to reach for her phone. Genta runs both palms down his face, loosening his contact lenses as he swaps them out for his glasses, squinting towards the hole in the sky.

“...Mm… not to be a tinfoil hat, but aren’t ghosts and people falling from the sky generally the first signs of the apocalypse?"

No, you idiot, the apocalypse would start with everyone firing explosives at once or… something. You’d be tempted to fact check him, if the crack from above hadn’t actively spit out someone else.

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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remembrance | event pt 2

Another morning, another 7 AM wake-up call.

Like clockwork, your ID card rings out. It's a noise you've begun to dread, because at this point, it can only mean one thing. Him. "Hey, kiddos! Haven't seen you in a while! You know what time it is. Get down to the lobby; I got somethin' to tell ya!" He tries to mask it behind a layer of exuberance, but you know the drill like the back of your hand. Whatever he has to tell you isn't 'cool' or 'fun' or whatever he tries to paint it as. It signifies murder.

#event

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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[mrs. puff voice] oh dear neptune || exe reaction+normdays || ai || closed w/ genta

Even a total moron could see how much Chou meant to some. Senpai to some, lover to one, enigma to all, etcetera. It was difficult, awkward even, to watch the two lovebirds knowing one was about to die in a guaranteed horrific death. All that romantic build-up dragging on until Chou was yanked away to her pending doom was sure to make this experience hurt a lot more than it needed to.

And hurt it did. Hurt it did. (Classy music over an execution. Oh gee, what depth, round of applause for Monomi, ladies and gents!)

Ai jumped up at Chou suddenly slamming down in the middle of the courtroom, leaning over her podium to get a closer look at the mangled beauty. She visibly winced at the writhing girl, glancing over at Sarara right beside her. Was--was Monomi serious? Did she take Michiko seriously at last minute? If this is the amount of mercy they'll get, then--

*SPLAT*

oh. There we go.

The initial shock set in the court. The fact that a comically large flyswatter just flattened Chou into a pulp. Then eventually, it seemed Chou's final words got to them, Sarara especially. "We're all going to die." As if their previous soap drama-worthy moment suddenly lost its bitter-sweetness and the permeating scent of blood and crushed bone (Uh, does that even have a smell? Well you get my point.) hammered in the fact that another person had kicked the bucket under their own vote. Just like before.

As for Ai, she...stood. Covering her nose to block the overwhelming scent of Chou's crushed corpse, she looked to rest of her classmates, witnessing sense of despair several seemed to succumb to--Michiko, Sarara, Yuka. She blinked a few times as she balled her fists, still glancing around and waiting for someone to stand and speak up. Something--someone to break the damn doom and gloom. Are--are they serious? It was the same shit like the past three weeks, and they've been (relatively) fine, yeah? They've kept going--hell, it's amazing they've made it up to now. Why's everyone starting giving up NOW? WHY NOW?

...no. This wasn't the same as before. Two kids were gone this time--one of the most efficient (S-sort of. Let's forget that slip up, though, he's dead anyway.) investigators, to boot. No one was acting right all week, of course people like them would kick the bucket, right? To add to that...it felt different to see someone's life get snuffed right in front of your eyes rather than on a screen. There was a sense of doubt from a screening, perhaps of hopeful denial. Takahiro, Senji, Akio...even if their deaths looked very real, something about their purely on-screen deaths felt as if it was merely a movie. (Again, that's probably just hopeful thinking, huh?)

As the mangaka was itching for someone to break the silence, she looked down at the floor. Oh. Blood had gotten on her pumps.

---

Cue a bored Ai wandering into the second ward a few days after, still trying to find ways to ward off the bad vibes that still lingered after the trial. Sketchbook in hand, she had her sights on the costume shop. That could probably be good enough of a distraction for her--there didn't seem to be much people around, since the past few days consisted of silence and mourning (Christ, she knew it was serious, but geez.), so maybe there wouldn't be a mannequin fiasco like before. Shaking off the thought, she headed down the street until she happened to spot a familiar green-haired philosopher.

"Oh? Yo. Fancy seeing you here, Genta the Great."

Hoo boy. Don't think she'll forget about his princeliness, mourning or no.

#ic #da6t #week 5 #normdays #ai #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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[chap 5] house callout [genta ft. big sad orikasa]

The days following had no doubt been taxing on many of them.

Well, if this entire event hadn’t been taxing to begin with. Murder was hardly a comfortable subject; especially when it happened graphically and happened to feature the bodies of people you’d just yesterday had breakfast with. However, following Chou’s death, Sarara Orikasa had taken things a bit… more personally than usual. Not that he couldn’t see why - a love story worthy of a drama serial of some sort took place just before her death, but…

… Well, that she’d holed herself up in the deceased’s room for days seemed to be a bit… excessive. Not that he was one to judge anyone’s grief, but there came a point when one’s coping mechanisms just became… erm, detrimental to one’s health.

Well, that, and he’d owed her half an apology and his condolences proper. Genta knocked on the door.

“Orikasa-san, it’s Sugai. Are you in?”

Logic pointed to yes - Sarara hadn’t exactly been known to be out and about since… well, the last trial. Still, steady transformation into a hikikomori within one’s deceased significant other’s room or not, it only seemed polite to ask. Even if… she maybe couldn’t technically hear him. These rooms were soundproofed, after all.

#ic #da6t #normdays #genta #submission #week 5

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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what do u mean it's too late for an exe reaction | Monobear Theater | Masashi [ATTN: meech. sorr]

When the vote tally results were announced, Masashi released another exaggerated sigh and slumped over his podium. He wasn’t happy that nobody else voted with him, and apparently wanted everyone in the trial room to know it. His wonderful idea hadn’t even been acknowledged. Such a waste…

Once Monomi delivered the antidote, he feigned being oblivious to her presence until she set the vial down on his podium and moved on. Masashi eyed it with disinterest, picking it up and twirling it around slowly with his fingers before setting it back down. He had zero desire to cure himself of the fever. He felt great! Fantastic! Y’know, ignoring the fact that this was a fever and he kinda felt like absolute shit. Still, he didn’t really care whether he died or not.

Basically, [despair fever masashi voice] my city now.

But it was difficult for him not to catch sight of Holly, seeing as her podium is almost directly across from his own. He looked from the vial to her and back, groaning before he drank the blue liquid inside. While he didn’t want to take the antidote, he couldn’t put it past Holly to force the antidote into his system, so… he got it over with quickly.

The relief and sudden clarity in his mind was instant. Masashi could see the antidote taking effect on the others in the room as well. Now that he was back to… himself, he glanced awkwardly at Sarara and weighed his options. Should he apologize? Would she hold a grudge against him for trying to get her executed? With any luck, everyone would just put all the events under the motive behind the

Masashi remained quiet at his podium, waiting for the execution to start. As usual, he listened to whatever he could hear around him, taking everything in. ‘Everyone who just took the antidote knows that they’d never act the way they did otherwise.’ ...Right. Of course. Nobody would ever act the way they did with that fever…

The execution eventually started, and like usual (broken record amirite) the specialist watched in curiosity, not phased by whatever awful things would befall his classmate. The inclusion of the actual trial room in Chou’s execution had certainly surprised him, but he didn’t so much as flinch as the flyswatter crushed the insect collector with a sickening noise.

Err… he should probably do something other than stand at his podium, right? Yes, that would be good. Get going.

“Ah… Shoji-san?” Masashi uttered with a lack of his usual confidence, moving over to her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We should… collect Holly and move away from this place. I think some rest is in order…”

He waited after speaking, hoping she wouldn’t brush him off. It was clear he didn’t know how to carry himself after this fever and was still adjusting.

#ic #da6t #week4 #monothea #masashi #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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[chap 4 -> 5 ] the end of a naka-era [exe react] [genta ft. yuka, sarara]

While standing at Yuka’s podium, the proximity with which Chou’s untimely arrival, pin through their chest and all, had him wishing that he’d been back at his own.

It was... unfortunate. He’d seen the way that eyes lit up when she was still alive at the end of it all, but experience suggested that this wouldn’t have been allowed to stand. Senji could climb, but not high enough; Akio, a robot, had survived being literally dismantled until the fragile chip within him was crushed. This... he would have liked to remain optimistic, but this seemed more likely to be mockery than anything. Teasing them with the possibility that someone could be spared. This was the opening he had been waiting for since the beginning... but he did not budge.

Sure enough, before anyone could react, down came the flyswatter. crunch.

(he’d have nightmares about that for weeks after)

Where others screamed and began to weep, however, Genta, for perhaps the first time that day, was dry eyed and silent. Instead, he had returned the favor - tucking his hand into his free sleeve, he’d turned to Yuka and gently grazed a fabric covered thumb over her dampened cheeks. Murmuring something along the lines of ‘get some rest’, he’d hugged her, moving his arm back to push back the tears from her cheeks every so often. It was the service she’d offered to him, after all - he could only stand to return it in kind.

However, he would catch up later; at whatever point the entomologist was ready to depart, he’d claim he’d had business and would catch up later. It would be at that point that Genta had stepped over to Sarara’s side, settling into seiza a respectful distance from her side. Not exactly comfortable, but... well, this was a macabre funeral of sorts, he supposed.

“You may never be quite ready, but... I’ll walk you back whenever you wish.”

It was... doubtful that she could hear him, but it was probably better that Sarara not be left to her own devices right now. Taking one last look at Chou’s remnants, he exhaled slowly, eyelids fluttering shut in quiet contemplation. This... this couldn’t be allowed to continue.

But for now... whatever he thought, whatever he felt could be locked away for a while. He’d cried enough for one lifetime.

#ic #da6t #week4 #monothea #genta #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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exe rxn // sarara // isn’t it chouver...

[cw: serious unreality episode]

Blank canvas.

That was what one always started with, wasn’t it?

And x-rayed past the layers, the hidden corrections, the undersketch… that was what always lay beneath even a masterpiece.

She’d only been an arm’s length away from Chou, when it happened. One more second, and she could have reached out and…

Ah. That was her arm, wasn’t it?

Oh, Chou was right there.

She’d studied French for a time, hadn’t she? Rococo, Fauvism, Surrealism… she’d always had an interest. And the words being spoken, combined with the half-finished picture she had of the girl before her, fit together to make… something Cubist. Unnatural angles, which together gave a complete perspective of a form.

Chou was the perfect name for a young person like myself, as it’s multifunctional…

We’re all going to die.

It seemed as though the rest of the room had vanished. Just an infinite, white net of identical points. Whatever Michiko and Yuka were saying was beyond the four corners of this frame. There was only… the girl before her, her dearest heart, just a pace or two away.

…How were they alive with their torso bent like that, anyway?

It took two steps for her to close the distance between them. Then, just a moment to sit seiza beside them, the pool of blood coming up to touch her knees like a slow tide. The sight was oddly… out of place, as though she was just sitting by the woman’s bedside, waiting for her to awaken again.

“You can’t die. They can’t kill you. I won’t let it happen. So don’t say farewell, Chou. Chou. Ch— Ch…”

The same words as before, this time in barely a whisper. It was clear they really were addressed to Chou, as though the other woman could listen now. The same full-body convulsion as before was slowly taking her over, her eyes glassy in total lack of recognition of the classmates before her. And then… as though the life was leaving her own body too, she slowly crumpled next to the corpse, her face just inches away from what had been the other woman’s.

A voice that wholly wasn’t her own left her, still quiet as a ghost. For a moment, it almost sounded like Chou’s spirit really had returned.

“Fate isn’t done… Oh… my… god…! I’m empty…!”

It seemed Sarara wouldn’t move from this spot now, except by force.

#ic #da6t #week4 #schtrial #sarara #submission #cw: serious unreality episode

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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execution rxn | til we can't anymore | michiko

No one's mobilizing and, really, it looks like any and all momentum completely crashes after Michiko speaks up. Her fists quiver and she stands at her podium alone, already feeling the space that she knows is going to be permanently to her left, realizing how exposed she feels without Chou standing next to her.

She doesn't have too much time to ruminate on just how typical this situation is -- why has she never been able to command a group on her own? Positions of leadership aren't new to her, of course, but the only reason she could actually keep them was... well....

There's no point to losing all hope, but she can't help but shake with helplessness and frustration.

She tries not to eavesdrop on the two girls out of respect, and instead stands until Monomi appears again. Why had this become some sort of routine? Why was this so impossible to prevent...? She can't find a reason, a point in time where she could've done things completely different to turn things around, and her inability to find one makes her avert her gaze from the proceedings.

Watching these executions had always felt so wrong. Seeing someone die in such a vulnerable way... there was nothing to be gained from it. She'd only watched Akio's (more of in an attempt to see if there'd be anything left of him to salvage), and that had been more than enough for her. So she keeps her eyes down, ignoring the music, praying quietly, and idly wonders why she'd never learned even basic French.

When the music stops and she's blocked Chou's indecipherable conversation with the stranger from her mind, she looks up. It's... over. She exhales, not really out of relief, and turns her head up to face the class. How could she convince them that they could move on from thi--

Michiko screams as Chou falls, but after her initial terror and stunned silence, she wonders if this is some sort of muted punishment. Had someone actually listened to her weak defense? If Chou could be cared for extensively (and wow she means extensively) did they still have a chance of surviving? She could finally help someone -- directly prevent their death...! It takes a moment for her to move her swaying legs, but once she does Chou says her final words.

A shudder travels through her body and her face feels cold. No... not if she can help it...! She takes a step forward, but her hesitation probably saves her from the giant flyswatter. Michiko jumps, too shocked to scream again, and stares blankly at Chou's nearly unrecognizable body.

Defeated, she only sinks to the ground, shaking, trying to block the image from her mind. She doesn't want that to be how she remembers Chou, but....

More to herself than anyone else, she sits on the ground and mumbles, ignoring the reactions of her classmates around her. If you're close enough to her, you might've heard her.

"I can't take any more of this...."

Ah. That's reassuring.

#ic #da6t #week4 #monothea #michiko #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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bye bye, sayonara // yuka // execution reaction

Maybe it was her ability in forward thinking, but Yuka had not taken her antidote yet. She knew that following a vote, would be an execution- no matter how long those two lovebirds prolonged it. So, Yuka decided to wait. She would pop that antidote after she witnessed the death. Coughing a bit into her sleeve (one that wasn't tainted with the blood of Kings), she decided to maintain her bravery and confidence... if not for just a few moments. She wanted to desperately stop being sick and get out of this weird lucid day fog, but she knew that if she were to view the upcoming death of somebody she viewed as an idol as she normally was, well... it wouldn't go very well, now would it?

So as she grasped onto her vial of curing, she looked onward. Watching. Waiting for the downfall of a person who Yuka could only wish she had gotten to know better. Chou Nakahara, somebody who had been respected, loved, and then cast out of the group via a majority vote and sent to death. A life lost at the hands of a terrible fate, Yuka's eyebrows were furrowing as she watched Chou be torn from the group to meet her end. No chances at a proper goodbye, no formal exchange or respect of each other's crafts. Yuka found herself in a state of loss...

She knew she wouldn't be losing somebody like Sarara was losing somebody. Chou wasn't Yuka's friend. The only sense of lose Yuka felt pang her side like a blade was the loss of a comrade, amongst many others. The loss of somebody she could have traded professional words with, the loss of somebody she frankly respected. And yet, even still she looked on as Chou was laid before them, reaching out to the object of her love.

Staring. Gazing. Looking on in horror. Smacked out like a bug. Yuka found herself wobbling ever so slightly. Ah... so every bit of her wasn't lost yet. Not to this illness, not to this game, she was scared but there was a sense of relief that the most genuine part of her was not lost yet- Yuka's ability to feel fear and horror. Eyes wide for only a few mere moments longer, before she had to close them, turning her head away. Practically hiding behind her sunglasses, she flinched horribly. It jerked her whole body as the mere sound of Chou being crushed sent an abhorrent chill up Yuka's spine. This was awful. This was bad, this was so so bad, no no no...

Feeling like she would be sick, she swallowed up anything that may have threatened to come out of her throat as she counteracted it with the vial of antidote.

Turning away, waiting for the antidote to do its work, she slid down her podium. Ah, the fog was clearing. Thinking more like herself...

There was that familiar and dull lack of will. Welcome home in a way, and all that.

...or was it really so welcome? Gritting her teeth, feeling her body become reaccustomed to the tremble and shake she was used too. Clenching her fists, she tried to fight it. Be brave, be brave like the Captain was, be brave like you tried to encourage Chou to be. Be brave like APKALLU... probably... was...? She wish she had gotten to know them.

Yuka would sit there at her podium for a short while more, exhausted and drained unable to carry on for a bit. Eventually, she may find her way out of the trial room. But for now, she was done. If it were not for the blood on her sleeves, she would be properly wiping away the first tears she had wept in reaction to an execution. Due to their presence however, she let them freely fall as she gave herself the ability to be weak and mourn for Chou's loss. Adachi's loss. APKALLU's lost... as well as all the previous students.

Did she deserve to cry as much as others may? Likely not. And yet she did so freely, breathing in the scent of fresh blood and musk from previously ill and tired students. Huddled in herself as others tended to themselves and reacted in their own ways- life would move on. For now, Yuka was in her own time. Yuka was tired. Yuka was drained. Yuka was done fighting, and yet she forced herself to go onwards to try and prevent terrible events like they all just witnessed. Yuka was... sure failing at helping prevent things like this. She mourned.

She wept.

#ic #da6t #week4 #abndays #monothea #yuka #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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Execution | Chaque chose vaut son prix.

(Alternatively Titled, Needlepoint; Take 2!)

(Tw for impaling, and crushing!)

In a blur, the verdict was laid bare for all to see, and the final moments of one Chou Nakahara were on display, and Monomi and TWELVE decided it was time for this charade to end.

Sarara and Chou were still on the floor near the elevator, and the former girl shot up, gripping Chou with an intensity unrivaled in previous weeks.

Unfortunately... from the previously sealed elevator doors came a collar, snapping around Chou's neck, dragging the unsuspecting gal away while the other's grip was broken.

And thus did the elevator doors shut, sealing the insect collector’s fate.The court room dimmed to give those witnessing the end a better view of the screen, and the sound of music filled the air…

♫♫♫

How long had you been waiting for it to begin? The court room was so silent, it could be assumed an eternity had passed.

The screen nearby came alight to reveal the fate of the insect collector, wherever she may have been. Now, where could she have gone of to…?

Grainy film. A room, lit by the fading sun, a breeze blowing in through the half-open window, causing the gauze curtains to ripple in the stillness. Wooden floors. Framed, pinned insects on the walls. A record player in the corner of the room with its sweet sound wafting in.

And there, on the desk, was the smallest person ever seen. … So it seemed. Chou, dressed in an elegant gown, hair curled to its maximum velocity, looking absolutely, positively mortified. Upon the desk, equipment for insect preservation sat, waiting to be utilized. And as she took in the sight of what would become her fate, a hand shot up to cover her mouth.

In the experience of the collector, she’d let it be heard that pinning and preserving was rare in her experience. But for others in her family line…

Footsteps. Thundering, earth-shaking, and accompanied by the slow, sweet humming of a distant woman, making her approach.

Running across the desktop, Chou gathered her skirts and fled to a safer space, behind a rather large frame, propped up against the wall. With any luck, she wouldn’t be found. Their uneven breaths were obvious to be seen, despite the music muffling the sound.

The door creaked open after a good minute of suspense, the humming blending with the accordion, as a woman with blue, almost white hair entered the scene, donning the same style of formal attire.

And as the collector curled up, near hyperventilation, the voice came out, smooth and slow.

“Chouuuuu… Ma douce fille, où es-tou?“

Casually, so casually, the woman strode forward towards the desk, leaning her head down to gaze at each item, tsk-ing under her breath.

“Tu ne peux pas cacher, ma chérie. Mon chou doux.”

Her hands moved forward to pull the frame away, startling the already panicking Chou, causing her to fall back noiselessly. The woman chuckled, setting it aside while Chou searched for another place to hide, before snatching her up. Struggling, the collector kicked her feet, screaming,

“MAMAN!! LAISSE-MOI PARTIER! S'IL VOUS PLAÎT! !!”

But alas, her screaming did no good. The woman’s grip was crushing the air out of her, leaving her quite defenseless against the oncoming flood.

“Vous n'avez jamais écouté. Comment honteux.”

She tsk-ed again, while pulling the frame back over with one hand, placing it on the desk.

“Mon mannequin, vous allez enfin honorer le nom de Beaumont.”

Placing the struggling Chou on the board, she pulled a pin from a glass container, promptly stabbing her directly in the abdomen.

Blood began seeping from the wound and Chou’s mouth, staining the dress, releasing a very shallow gasp from the collector.

Instead of pained, they just looked… Betrayed. Through incredibly shallow gasps, shaking hands gripping the pin pressed through her gut, tears began slipping down their cheeks. Betrayal.

She was plucked from the board, pin and all, and dropped… falling and falling….

into…

darkness.

…

Where had the collector gone? Surely that wasn’t the end. Monomi wasn’t making her announcement that it was over. The lights were still dimmed, even after the music had ended.

Before the a gut wrenching thunk rang out in the center of the courtroom, paired with shallow, struggling gasps for breath.

A light shone on the culprit, on her side, the comically large pin still very much stuck through her, bloodied and broken. Very obviously, she had broken bones upon impact.

Raising one shaking hand to one Sarara Orikasa, who stood directly in front of her at her podium, Chou choked out:

“…We’re all going to die.”

The other girl stepped around her podium, wide eyed and ready to try and assist, help her somehow–

….Just before

an enormous flyswatter came down, between podiums, slamming down onto the collector with a final, deafening…

crunch.

Crushed, before your own eyes, nevertheless.

The scent of blood was overwhelming, as was the gristly sight of her, thoroughly broken beyond repair, save for her prosthetic arm… still outstretched to the Art Curator.

This would be a sight… that would bug you for ages to come.

CHOU NAKAHARA, SHSL INSECT COLLECTOR…

HAS BECOME AN EXTINCT SPECIES.

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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MONOTHEATER - “what should i name this post” “tig ol’ biddies”

“...”

Having gone unhugged, Monomi watched on as final goodbyes were exchanged. Much more preferable to a fight, not that she could have really broken any up.

“... Wait, it’s t-that time alweady? Nooo, we can’t we wate again...!”

And with that--

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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irrelevancy || monothea || ai || re: holy shit (general chousplotion of things)

As soon as Chou revealed herself, Ai only let out one thing before ultimately going silent.

“...Oh.”

Well, she certainly was in a dilly of a pickle. It seemed that, much to ephemeral relief, they’d finally found whodunnit. Votes now began to fall upon the insect collector as Ai continued to look away and slooowly inch away from Sarara. As scary as it still seemed to vote someone off to their death (for the fourth time, now), it...was a bit of an eerie relief knowing they at least got it right after such a messy trial. They outed a murderer at the expense of their life--wait a second, what was she about to go on about?! They’ve done this sha-bang before!! Ugh, this fever really was such a drag, feeling oh-so sappy over trivial baby shit she’s already--

Chou’s sudden snap brought her back to attention. Well, this was new. She stood and listened as she suddenly went raving about nothingness, worthlessness, worms, death, emptiness--a whole speech coated in self-loathing. Such heavy words (ironically, for being about ‘nothing’) that streamed from her mouth threw the teary-eyed mangaka off guard, and yet… Even as she blatantly showed such self-hatred, even as the insect collector stabbed her own leg to prove a grim point--

Ai covered her mouth to stifle a sound. It seemed unnoticeable (well, she hoped it was), but she struggled to keep something down as Chou continued on with her rant. As for what she tried to control, even to her she couldn’t tell. Her horror, it could be assumed. Of course the whole shitshow going on in front of her was awful. The breakdown of an ill-fallen murderer who seemed to embrace how inevitable her and everyone’s deaths were, their absolutely meaningless existence to the world. Their titles, their being, APKALLU and Kaito’s strength, all the same, all NOTHING. All oh-so awful! How could she think that way?!

And at the same time...ho-ho-holy SHIT, HOW could she think it that way? Taking her and everyone’s titles for granted and trying to act all edgy and shit to make a point, an impact! (EASY there, easy there--!) Hey, she’s right, ain’t she? Everyone here was worth the same, and worth NOTHING at the same time! They’re aaaall the same here, and aaaaaall worth nothing. Then...

Why even worry about it, eh? No use brooding over something that under her words of being a nothing doesn’t even matter! Why BOTHER! Just embrace the nothingness and use that to enjoy everything without the burden of (everyone’s) standards, opinions, CHAINS if Chou so wishes to damn call it--can’t abide to other’s standards if you HAVE nobody. Why'd she take so long to come to this now? Is it the fever? Please! If YOU’RE nothing, you HAVE no chains to worry about in the first place! No expectations! Nothing!

(...god, she'd probably have loved to said that all, wouldn't she?)

...Then Genta spoke up. Then Yuka spoke up. Michiko. Holly. Sarara. Everyone speaking up and waking Chou up from her speech made Ai blinked a few times and realize--oh. Damn it. She was crying again. WHAT ELSE was new…? (it's fine, it's fine, it's over now, just stop. ugh.)

To no surprise, Chou Nakahara the SHSL Insect Collector was the culprit all along. Finally, finally, all of this was over with. With the vial falling into her hands, things finally could calm down. Somewhat. (Maybe she’d be able to breathe for once, now. Juicy drama aside, this fever sucked chode.) Before she drank it down, she stopped a moment and looked around the courtroom, at the others taking their antidote, at Sarara and Chou’s moment, hissing as she witnessed the curator’s painful desperation to save her dearest.

“S-sarar…”

Ai didn’t have the heart to call out. What, she couldn’t just interrupt! ...Maybe that’s what was stopping her from drinking the blue liquid.

(Is it...really the time to go back to being--)

(Oh just fucking do it they didn’t die for you to hesitate on being a healthy jerk again.)

With that, she drank the vial, taking a deep breath in and out and stretching her arms out. Ahh, how good it felt to not be stuffy and feverish!

Now that she was back, where could she start? The cheesy soap opera? Michiko’s hopeless logic? Genta the Great of No Pants? …

Nah. Nothing.

(Okay maybe Genta's embarrassment snuck a smile onto Ai's face.)

#ic #da6t #week4 #monothea #ai #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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ch4 monothea 4 // sarara // chouly f*ck [re: chou]

What else, indeed?

Sarara had resisted crying until now. The combination of the adrenaline rush and her determination not to let her girlfriend see such a sight in her last moments had held her back. To tell the truth, while she was fragile in many other ways, she wasn’t the kind of person you could ever remember seeing crying in general — her feelings more often remained in the realm of the abstract, locked behind some door incomprehensible even to her.

But there was something about Chou’s response, and the soft, soft contact, that just...

Ah.

A door had opened.

(Chou really, really wanted her to have— a future.)

When Sarara shed the first tear, her forehead still rested against Chou’s, the smile she wore this time was genuine. Bittersweet, at the thought of what was to come, but... the earnest love behind such a wish, being made for her, made her believe the words coming out of her own mouth more, just a little.

“My dear— that’s... that’s a wish I’ll carry with me for the rest of my days. I will. But, until then... can you... watch over me? If you can? And I’ll tell you all about that long, warm life, when...”

A choked-up pause — as she reached up with both her hands to cradle Chou’s face, gazing up just as intensely, fingers lightly, lightly tracing the shapes everywhere she could reach. The gesture was just as much to soothe the other girl as to form, well... a memory. Sarara had a very, very good memory, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to capture this moment to her satisfaction.

She could feel the tears flowing down her face now. They wouldn’t stop. How strange was that?

“I would have adored spending a future with you, Chou.”

The tears still streaming even as her eyes fell shut, that soft, pained smile still there, it seemed... that was how Sarara would remain, unless — until — the two of them were torn apart.

#ic #da6t #week4 #sarara #submission

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shsl-doubttora-blog · 7 years

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monotheater 4 | chou [r.e. sarara ; oh my god]

The smiling was nice while it lasted.

The other girl spoke, subsequently smiling and then practically breaking, Chou went from having the slightest twinge of a smile to an expression fraught with anxiety. An old woman...??

Still...

Still.

The events were hard to swallow. Even more so having this be so sudden, and... well... it wasn't the suddenness that really caught her off guard. As if there was any guarding left to be had, honestly. It was the statement of it in general. When had she last heard that...? (Chou could pinpoint the exact date, time, and who said it. Saying goodbye to someone who they wouldn't see again for a very long time. ...That was troubling.)

And yet, still, again, Chou followed Sarara's movements, sitting on the floor with her legs bent to the side. Sarara's head was on her lap, and Chou's focus was shifted entirely to her. What an absolutely strange set of events occurred, to have led up to this moment in time. This absolute shift in mindset, appearance, and... everything.

Not... entirely sure of what to do in this situation, Chou busied herself running their fingers through the now orange hair Sarara was sporting, mumbling,

"Yes, your hair is very orange now. When did you do that...?"

Now wasn't the time for that. Speaking at the same tone, Chou had to... give a response.

"If it isn't obvious, I'm in love with you too. I don't doubt for a second this will be an ongoing... affection. But, if we're being honest, I can't imagine you as an old woman. And I hope I don't see you again until your hair has greyed, you've been beset by wrinkles, and you've lived a long and truly warm life. I'm not one to wish anything upon others, but this exception must be made."

And what she did to really cap off that feeling, to make it last, was to lean down and kiss her forehead... Preferring to linger there, forehead to forehead, no matter how uncomfortable the position looked.

What else could she do?

#ic #da6t #week4 #schtrial #chou #submission

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