just how it sounds

izanagi tsukade 柄で 伊邪那岐 shsl pair dancer status: dead as a doornail!

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 3: plaisir partagé, plaisir doublé [OPEN]

All across the city, the screens were alive with memory. The most secret contents of eleven heads had been plucked out and put on display where billboards, advertisements and product placements should have been. ‘Extra, extra’, they seemed to say, ‘read all about it; you are not safe with each other, and neither are your memories’.

No matter where you went, your eyes couldn’t escape it; there was always, always at least one screen in your line of sight, no matter how hard you tried to look away. No escape, and no peace.

For the most part.

Inside the coffee shop, a large screen behind the counter -- probably used for displaying the menus in its previous life -- flickered. The projected memories shuddered and jittered, froze... and were taken over by that familiar, lurid green of Sanctus. A familiar voice lilted out of the speakers at the same time, triumphant.

“Override... successful~!”

And just like that, Izanagi Tsukade’s countenance popped up on the screen instead . Without his sister, from a distance, it almost looked like he was tending the counter... if it was normal for cafe attendants to work in front of a green screen. 

“That took me a while.” he mused, and appeared to lean on the edge of the screen, resting his chin in one hand; evidently, the program that simulated Nagi was keen on taking advantage of the more full-body range of motion it was now offered. “I should at least have a coffee waiting for me for all the effort I put into getting on-screen again.” 

The wind outside whistled, gently. Nagi’s image frowned, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes, and considered the landscape ahead of him.

“I can’t even rebrand.” he lamented, to the empty room. “Izanagi’s combination coffee shop-confessional... absolve your sins and get a free upgrade to grande. I’d probably need it, if I were them.” 

A presence, then; his eyes lit up with attention as he realized he had company, be it on the screen or in the flesh. Without looking at them in particular, still considering the landscape before him, he quipped, cheerily:

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

[shslkaryukai-blog]

🌸Closed {Tsukade Twins}: It Takes Two to Tango, but Three’s a Crowd

Mameyoshi staggered back to her room, disoriented from the unexpected conversation with Monobear. The stench of cigarette smoke still lingered as she practically collapsed onto her bed. It was an unbecoming sight for the graceful Maiko, but she was just so tired at this point, and this new information didn’t help. If only the bear had just stuck to money, something she wouldn’t have to worry about. One question sat heavy on her mind: What was going on outside of their newfound prison? 

She glanced towards the bolted windows, curiosity eating at her as she wished to know what lay behind them. She found herself getting up, slowly walking over to it and touching the cold metal.

“I don’t know if being trapped here is a blessing or a curse…” She sighed, leaning against the wall for support as she scanned the dusty room. Even with her cleaning spree, the scenery had hardly improved. Eventually her eyes settled on the screen. Right, the twins were apparently a computer program now? She recalled Izanami’s words from earlier today.

“Don’t be strangers, mes chéris - if you need us, just call and we’ll come running, day or night.”

It seemed ridiculous, but Mameyoshi couldn’t help but be interested in the idea. Especially now, when she had so many emotions and thoughts pressing on her mind. Everyone else would be asleep, and Mameyoshi hated burdening other’s with her problems anyways. However, if she could talk to the twins, even if they were just computers, maybe that would help. She supposed it was worth a try, and if it didn’t work, then she could just sleep.

“Err… Hello? Is anyone on the other side of that monitor?” She asked the blank screen, hoping to see it light up, make a noise, or do something in response. Mameyoshi really needed someone to talk this through with, and who better than someone who had done the unthinkable and was now an unbiased computer program?

[shslthreestep]

Mameyoshi’s words, for a few seconds, meet empty, silent air. For a long moment, it seems as though Nami’s promise in the gymnasium had been for naught -- that the twins’ newly extended reach did not quite make it here.

And then Nagi’s voice lilts out of the speakers, clear as anything. 

“You rang, mademoiselle?” he says, and then his face appears on the screen, his expression that same, playful smile from earlier on. “Try not to think me too rude for barging into a lady’s room without a chaperone. Nami’s around, but we aren’t sure whether we can share a screen yet? So stay tuned for that exciting development, I suppose.” 

His expression softens, a little; not by much, but some. It isn’t clear whether this simulacrum of Izanagi has a complete handle on his nuances and thought processes, or whether they’ve been boiled down and simplified to a few key traits, but it at least seems to understand he’s not all goofs, all the time. “So -- in case I get removed when my sister barges in -- I’ll ask now. What’s on your mind, Mameyoshi-chan?”

[oceanmagician-blog]

✨ Disappearing Act [Exploration]

[oceanmagician-blog]

Oh dear god what. 

It was, well, it was better than a body or two, certainly, but he didn’t understand this at all!!! Funnily enough, the laptops hadn’t actually set off any alarms, really. He himself didn’t own a phone or a laptop (having only used the computers on the ship, or their parents’ electronics), so the lack of one in his own room was to be expected.

He never could have expected this.

“Wh…whu-whu-what????” Jacoby’s words are incredulous, and he blinks several times, looking between both screens. “You–you can’t–you’re–you’re DE–” Despite the fear and sheer confusion in his voice, there’s something else there as he cuts himself off; hope?

He claps his hands over his mouth, shifting to focus at first on Nami. “S-Sanctus in–in Machina…?” he asks, unsure if he’s actually asking it of her or if he’s just trying to sound out the words. They don’t… sound familiar, at least, he thinks? He has time to think about that later, though. “Trick? P-pocket, err, spa?” He’s beginning to sound more like a parrot at this point.

“You, um, you guys… you don’t…?” He seems… perplexed. They’re just talking to him all–all calmly, even though they, they just… “Erm, could you, hold on, just a moment?” he asks, and though they haven’t given him the go ahead, he moves and sort of just… adjusts each laptop, so they can see each other as well as him. 

“What, wh-what do you–Nami, Nagi, do you… know what’s going on?”

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

Nami’s face shifts from delight into bewilderment at Jacoby’s reaction to her greeting.  Looks like he’s not quite so happy to see her.  “What’s wrong?”  Confusion slowly turns into concern.  “De-de-de?  It’s okay, you don’t have to keep it from me!  You can tell me anything!”  There’s something unsettling about her words, or maybe the way she delivers them: they sound almost pre-recorded.  But that can’t be right, surely?  Auto-responders aren’t intelligent, they don’t adapt - not dynamically like this, anyway.

She whistles absently, already forgetting her alarm, as Jacoby reaches to turn her (or her vessel, at least) around.  “What a treat!  I just got to see one side of the room and now I get to see the other s - ”  Pausing mid-sentence, Nami seems to compute for a moment before her face splits in a grin of recognition.  “Oh!  Nagi!  I didn’t see you there.  Lamp-sama and I are just chatting.”  Her field of view now changed, she looks around as if confused.  “Well, we were.  He was just here, where did he go?”

[shslthreestep]

It all seems to happen rather quickly; Nagi opens his mouth to question Jacoby about ‘you guys?’ -- as it’s only himself and Jacoby in the room, surely? -- when his field of view quite suddenly changes, and -- ah, there’s two people in here! That made a lot more sense.

“Well, that’s a coincidence--” Nagi says, smiling and nodding back in the ‘direction’ of Jacoby, as best he can on a 2D screen, “--Because I was just doing the same thing. Odd that you can’t see him, really. He’s pretty tall... and you do tell me a lot that I have my head in the clouds. Maybe that’s why I’ve got him and you don’t?”

He turns his attention back to Jacoby completely, and seems to finally consider the question... maybe? His expression is blank, but there’s a long, uncomfortable pause, with no sound except the whirring of the PCs and no movement from Nagi’s pixelated face -- maybe not even blinking. It’s unsettling.

Until, suddenly, he explodes back into movement, grinning that charming grin and saying, “I mean, it looks like we moved to a new area, doesn’t it? Either that, or everything got really messed up while we were gone. I don’t really have enough info, at the moment -- care to share, Jacoby-kun?”

[oceanmagician-blog]

✨ Disappearing Act [Exploration]

Nami had always wanted to be a magician’s assistant, and it seemed she had gotten her wish; just like that, they were gone. Poof! Nagi had gone out not with a bang, but with a whimper, numbed until he simply faded from existance. And, true to form, Nami had disappeared in a puff of smoke. The fire was innovative, but not practical.

Jacoby still saw the flames when they closed their eyes.

It was a few days since the murder, the trial, the execution. Meet the new area, same as the old area. Only not really. The fact that they could not lock their doors set about an entire new wave of anxiety for the magician. Partly from that, partly as a holdover from the nightmares, they did not sleep much in the days since everything had been turned upside down, and despite the weariness that was overcoming them lately, they still found themselves up late at night, or what they assumed was night; everyone else seemed to be asleep, at least.

But with them not being able to lock their doors, something occurs to them: if all the doors are unlocked, then… that would mean Nami and Nagi’s rooms as well, yes? They’re not entirely sure why they find themselves drawn back to the room–well, not really back. This was an entirely different room, technically. Would their beds still be unmade, he wondered?

They’re quiet as they approach the door, and as they reach toward the doorknob they freeze, the sudden images of Nagi’s bloody corpse and Nami’s own charred one jumping into his mind; they’re right inside there. Their hand shakes as they open the door, poking their head in there first to make sure there really aren’t any corpses in there. Pleased (and dramatically relieved) at the lack of them, they quietly enter the room, looking around.

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

The first thing Jacoby might note, as they step through the door, is that the beds are still a mess.

In fact, the twins’ entire room is kind of a mess, much like everyone else’s.  It doesn’t seem that Monokuma has forgotten about them though; amongst the dirt and debris are assorted personal effects, scattered around the room seemingly without rhyme or reason.  Things that belonged to the twins, they guess.  Bits of Nami’s makeup lie abandoned on the dresser, a little compact next to them.  A novel sits open and upside-down on Nagi’s bedside table, the spine slowly breaking.

Alongside this detritus of past lives two things seem out of place, though:  on both beds slim, silvery laptops sit open, their blank screens staring out into space.  Staring right at them.

Jacoby might think this odd.  Nobody else had been allowed to keep their electronics, as far as they were aware.  What made the twins a special exception?  Curious, they move closer, noting that the laptops look almost brand new: not a speck of dust on them.

As they step forward, the screens jump to life, lighting up bright green.  Loading bars appear on both, stuttering towards 100% - it’s no OS Jacoby recognises.  Before they can do anything about it, though, the bar fills - then disappears -

Then something really strange happens.

Nami’s face appears, clear as day (albeit washed in green), on the screen nearest.  “Initialising.  Welcome to the Sanctus in Machina system.  Personality file ‘izanamitsukade.dat’ has been selected.  Now loading.”  There’s a long moment of silence as her lips move, but no sound comes out.   Then she blinks a couple of times and starts to move her eyes.

She sees Jacoby, and her face lights up with a beatific smile.  “Lamp-samaaa~!  It’s so good to see you!!  How are you?  Have you come to do a magic trick for us?”  If Nami is aware anything is wrong, she gives precisely zero indication.

[shslthreestep]

In unison with the other laptop, the Sanctus in Machina system boots up on the computer on Nagi’s bed. Predictably enough, it selects and boots up ‘izanagitsukade.dat’, although the loading time takes longer than Nami’s -- not by much, only about ten seconds, but it’s enough that Nagi only tunes in after Nami is finished talking. The laptop’s field of view doesn’t include the other one, so when Nagi speaks, it’s as if Jacoby is the only person in the room. 

“Oh, Jacoby-kun! Nice of you to drop by.” he says, a grin spreading across his virtual features. He then takes a moment to take in his surroundings, humming lightly as he observes the room he finds himself in. 

“...This place is sort of a dump compared to the last floor, huh?” he observes, looking back at Jacoby and raising his eyebrows. “I’m almost starting to miss the place. Maybe you can conjure up a pocket spa or something for a change of scenery?” 

[shinonomecorp-blog]

Yodelei Waiting | (Ab)normal Days 1 [OPEN]

[shinonomecorp-blog]

Ah, did she say he was the more reasonable twin earlier? Suzuka decided to take that back. He, and his sister, were just devils poking and prodding at whoever they could. Pests… Her eyebrow twitched as he called her cute again, and then one more time after that. Hah, she would have to get him back for this…

It was hard talking about her father, but she knew it was inevitable. It was more odd for people not to know of him, and he was bound to come up when talking about her park and the company. Still… She wanted to let it go. That’s why she emerged from the shadows after so long in the first place. 

“He did. He cared for my mother and I deeply, and I will always be thankful for the life he gave us. After his passing, things haven’t… Nevermind.”

She held herself for a moment. She shouldn’t be speaking so openly. She looked to Nagi, ready to speak up again when he delivered his final comment. Her body locked up as she stared at him in disbelief. He was criticizing her drawing, wasn’t he? The creation she spent so much time on… Her arms dropped to her side as she quickly turned her head away from him. Her passion had just been brushed off as a mere scribble. How could he…

“It must be nice… Having a talent doing something you enjoy, huh? Some of us don’t have that pleasure.” She spat her words like acid, any hint of amiability gone.

Suzuka clenched her fists and finally turned to Nagi. Her face displayed nothing but contempt for the boy in front of her. She felt the control over her limbs dissipate as she watched herself approach the boy quickly. Her hand raised up, and came down across the Nagi’s face swiftly leaving only the sound of skin against skin lingering in the air. After the pause, she gave Nagi a very simple order.

“Leave my sight immediately… I don’t wish to speak with you again.”

She turned around and returned the front of the class. Sitting on the teacher’s desk and stared at the board, covereing her face with one hand. She was truly a fool, wasn’t she? He was right, so why did she lash out? This drawing… It really was just childish garbage.

[shslthreestep]

Things like this just happen to him all the time. 

While there was real venom behind Nagi’s statement, it wasn’t intended to genuinely hurt -- irritate, certainly, perhaps even annoy, but all he had meant by the statement was light hearted ribbing. He fails to consider, every time, that other people are more than just experiments to poke at and see what comes out -- that things he means as nudges might, to the person on the receiving end, be stabs.

He can see it on Suzuka’s face, as the silence stretches on and she turns away,and he could apologise, but doesn’t. After all, didn’t she just say her father cared for her and her mother deeply? Hadn’t she grown up around people who loved and encouraged her, who cared about more than how much money she could make them? 

She had. He and Nami hadn’t. That, to him, seems like a fair trade off for loving what they did for a living, despite the reasons why they started in the first place -- you couldn’t have your cake, he thought bitterly, and eat it too.  Suzuka apparently feels differently. Nagi only realises she’s about to slap him milliseconds before her palm makes contact with his face.

She turns away from him, then, dismisses him. He raises his palm to his stinging face, in silence -- gingerly touches the reddening skin. For a moment, he stands. 

When he speaks again, his voice is low, thick with anger. “You don’t know,” he says, slowly and deliberately, “how good you had it, Suzuka-chan.” 

He stands a moment, balling his hands into fists, thinking about whether to say more -- spins on his heel and leaves, before he can. The sound of his footsteps echoing off back towards the dorms follows his exit, until they fade into the walls of the school. 

It is better to have loved and lost, after all, than to have never loved at all. Nothing he could say would make her understand. He didn’t even want to. He had Nami. That was fine.

So why try? 

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslfinalgirl-blog]

If you want to be the Final Girl, you have to talk like one.

She’s not arrogant enough to believe she’s going to live through all this… the world is full of dangers after all and these kids are strangers. Dangerous strangers, most likely. Even if they seem nice, you can’t trust them. Well, trust them a bit sure, but not with your back, that’s for sure. The rules of horror have time and time again been parodied and subverted so those don’t work. The recipe for survival, in actuality, is a lot less clear. It takes a lot of courage, a bit of determination and a huge handful of luck. Oh… but… being a pretty girl seems to help, at least.

To be honest, Lolita has a similar thought to Nagi’s. As she’s sketching she’s half-expecting the horrid pest to come back and erase it or something.  As long as he’s not as freaky as last time, pushing a gun on her and reading her mind or something she’s fine with it. Well, no, that’s not quite right. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say she’d be able to deal with it, at least.

“I’m better with a pencil.” she pouts. This really isn’t her usual style and she’s actually disappointed it doesn’t look cute enough even if it is rather grisly. “But whatever. It works intention-wise.”

She’s still a bit bitter about the end results of the drawing, though. A private grumble she’ll keep to herself.

“Huh…? Why would you wanna talk about that? Are you jealous? I don’t pity you if you’re jealous, you know! He’s really super-duper amazing!”

The words lose their smug edge as she pulls a charmed lovestruck face just thinking of the one and only, her head resting in her hands.

“Ma~mu~ra-sa~ma♥ He’s my bodyguard and sure, he’s tall but he’s sooo cool! ♥ He’s older than me, too! He’s tough and good-looking and generous, he helped an old lady once, you know?! He’s not like most dumb boys, he’s really really mature and-and-and he hasn’t technically agreed to go out with me YET but it’s definitely gonna happen! ♥ ♥ ♥ ”

After this little breakdown, she huffs and turns away to hide her pink cheeks. Well. That’s not going to help much after such a passionate rant. Lolita folds her arms and tries to get that bite back in her tone.

“A-anyway! You can’t compare!”

[shslthreestep]

Here we go; she’s getting into the meat of it, now, and he listens attentively as Lolita starts to go off on a spiel about her super-duper amazing Mamura-sama... and, the more he listens, the more the full picture becomes clear.  

The situation between Lolita and the illustrious, mysterious Mamura isn’t so much a whirlwind, passionate forbidden love between a bodyguard and his charge, as the spin the girl across from him is putting on the story -- on the contrary, it seems to be more ‘teenage girl in puppy love with a dependable older figure that’s constantly by her side’. 

Her enthusiasm is sort of cute -- more the sort of thing you’d expect from a preteen fan of a pop star than a professional like her -- and it’s clear that in her eyes, nobody here is going to even vaguely measure up to the ideal image of Mamura she’s conjured. Which leaves him with a couple of avenues. 

There’s option 1, which is to shatter that image and see what happens -- say something like ‘I bet he picks his nose, every guy does it’ and see how outraged she gets...but that’s probably going to run out of steam quickly. 

On the other hand... 

He affects a dreamy expression, resting his chin in his hand and pausing dramatically after Lolita finishes speaking.  “...Wow. He sure sounds like a catch... tough, good looking, generous, and charitable? And... you said he hasn’t agreed to go out with you yet?” 

Nagi gets to his feet, and meets Lolita’s eyes, deadly serious... and bows low.

“...Please accept me as your rival, Lolita-chan.” 

[nebulonicfirestorm-blog]

Chapter 1 | Cherish the Mental Sanctum | Open

[nebulonicfirestorm-blog]

“Yeah, no problem! Easier to open a bandaid with two hands anyway.”

Deftly, Akron followed Nagi out the hallway. He didn’t opt to grab his own coffee because… Wait. Akron didn’t even have coffee. He forgot to pour himself a cup. …Sigh, later then, he guessed. He already said he’d help.

Thankfully, though, as they walked Nagi started singing his praises. He might not have had any caffeine to boost his mood, but dang if that didn’t feel like the second best thing.

“Aha, you really think so?” He rubbed the back of his head, grinning warmly. “That’s usually the roughest part, keeping track of all that… I get worried I’m gonna mess up a planet’s name in the middle of a big panel or something!”

“Sometimes I worry it’s too uh… How do I put this… Unoriginal? Like… I always wonder if someone’s thought of stuff in it before? Does that ever come across? …I mean everything’s derivative, but y’know?” In retrospect, that kind of felt like compliment fishing, but… Oh well. Can’t un-word words.

As they reached the nurse’s office, Akron made a quick dash for the door and pulled it open. “Careful, we don’t want you bleeding on the doorknob or anything,” he joked. “That’s how you get uh… Tetanus or something! I think.”

[shslthreestep]

“Oh, no, not in anything else I’ve read.” Nagi replies, confidently. “Most of it even aligns pretty well with the current thinking in physics -- as much as sci-fi can, anyway. It never feels so out-there that it pulls you out of the story, you know.” It’s rare for him to shower praise on someone he’s just met -- genuine, sincere praise, in any case -- but he’s prepared to make an exception, this time. 

It might get him an autographed copy, some day! Forward thinking, and all.

They reach the infirmary, and Nagi grins as Akron holds the door open for him. “Aren’t you a gentleman?” he teased, walking past the other boy and into the room to immediately sit himself down on a cot and take a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. He’s seemingly perfectly content to allow Akron to do the legwork of actually looking for the band-aids; he might be a fan, but he’s lazy first.

“Fix me up at your own leisure, Dr. Merieux~.” he says when he’s settled, raising his eyebrows at Akron and smiling a little wider. “Tetanus lurks around every corner, you know.” 

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslkaryukai-blog]

Mameyoshi was not sure if she was supposed to take Izanagi’s words as a compliment or not. When in doubt, assume the best. She gave a slight bow at the ‘compliment’.

“Why thank you Tsukade-san. I can assure you it has not been easy. If it weren’t for my training, I would probably be much less composed. The me before my training would probably be clawing at the walls to get out of here…” Sometimes Mameyoshi forgot that she used to act entirely different. She supposed that once you spend so much time in a certain role, a certain persona, you adopted it as your own. Maturity played a part in her development as well, of course.

“You look nice, despite the circumstances though, don’t worry. Um… pardon me for being so intrusive, but what are you doing on the chalkboard?” Now that she had gotten past the initial shock, Mameyoshi was quite intrigued at the method to Izanagi’s chalkboard madness.

[shslthreestep]

She was infallible, it seemed -- an oasis of calm springtime in the howling storm they’d found themselves in. More to the point, it was something she’d worked for, not simply part of who she was... which probably only made her ability to adapt to all this stronger, Nagi thought. Some people had all the luck, honestly.

“You’re too kind, mademoiselle. You should see me on a good day.” he responds, bowing a touch and pulling his beanie off to hold against his chest, the picture of chivalry. He replaces it on his head, tweaks its position a little, and turns back to the board, in thought.

“Anyway, Mameyoshi-chan, I’m trying to figure out what it means. It seems pretty clear to me that it’s some kind of metaphor -- not the usual horror-show fare we’ve been getting treated to, otherwise. I’ve got some ideas, but--”

He turns to her, raising his eyebrows. “--If you have anything to contribute, feel free. Two heads really are better than one, trust me.” 

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

mvt. 2: sotto voce [CLOSED]

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

As bitter as it makes her, if you can’t joke about your shitty home life what kind of teen star are you?  At Nagi’s shrill impression of their mother peals of laughter burst out of her.  “They probably haven’t even heard yet!  I just feel sorry for Yumi-chan, she’ll be calling and calling - ” She makes a phone shape with her hand, imitating the motion. “ - and it just goes to voicemail ‘cause they’re off on some social not-working cruise or something and she’s losing her mind, and they’re checking their bank balances like hmm, that seems kinda low…”

Speaking of.  Nami puts her hand over her heart and winces as he brings up her followers.  “Man, I hope so.  If we got out of here and I was going back to, like, ten thousand heartfelt mentions, how great would that be?”  

She’s smiling, so why does she want to cry?  It’s not going to happen.  She knows how the internet content machine works.  She’ll be completely out of their thoughts in a month, tops.  Just for a moment she catches herself thinking it’d be fine to be dead as long as I wasn’t forgotten -

Nami shakes her head, hard, and puts it out of her mind: turning back to Nagi, her expression is unreadable.  “If we wanna find out just exactly how popular I am, though - ” Or whether our parents remember we exist, “ - we’ll have to make it out of here alive first.  So I’ll be counting on you, okay?”  Does her voice catch on the last word, or is it just imagined?  Either way.

[shslthreestep]

Hearing Nami laugh so exuberantly is nice, but... being reminded of Yumi sobers him even further. They give her a lot of shit, and she gives them a lot of shit for giving her shit, but he and Nami both know she’ll be worried out of her mind about them, regardless. Trying over and over to call their likely-oblivious parents, just as Nami says. A dull ache throbs in his chest. 

What he says seems to have hit a similar note, for Nami. Nagi doesn’t have any public social media accounts of his own -- he has a couple anonymous, private ones to collate things he likes and follow Nami, but he doesn’t have anywhere near the same online cult following Nami’s developed. They’ll be concerned for her right now, but...

He stops the thought in his tracks when he sees Nami’s enigmatic expression, chilled. 

“...What else am I here for, huh?” he jokes, and then fights his compulsion to stay in bed (he’s awake anyway) to get up as well. “And to that end, I’m gonna go get you some tea and me some coffee and hope I don’t run into Izo-kun. I think he might have growled at me when I saw him yesterday morning.” 

Nagi goes quiet for a moment, then after some thought speaks again. He’s frowning, but the words are clear and strong -- purposeful.

 “...We’ll figure something out, Nami. Promise.”

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslfinalgirl-blog]

There’s a softening in him… in the posture… in the tone. The little things like that seem so deliberate in her head. Maybe it’s all the acting classes. Or perhaps she just has good instincts. She folds her arms and notes this but sees no reason to comment on it.

“If the bear’s gone through all this trouble to do all this…” she muses, her words trailing a bit as she watches him erase the board. Somehow it’s satisfying. It’d be nice if you had one of those things for your head. Brain bleach or something. But like… brain-friendly. “Then it only makes sense he’s the theatric type, right? Everyone’s the protagonist of their own story. That way everyone, in their head, feels a bit of immunity, you know? Feels like the challenges are made just for them!”

Her nails drift up to her mouth before she realises she’s about to indulge in a bad habit and drops her hands to her sides, opting to clutch the ends of her dress instead. Very inconspicuous.

Lolita eyes the chalk she’s been offered and puffs one cheek out in thought before taking it. She stares at the chalkboard as if it’s a particularly complicated math problem before striking the chalk against the board. It feels like sparks’ll fly with such quick friction. It’s actually kind of fun to do this sort of thing. One stroke leads to another and she completes a circle… with this momentum she’s able to draw little ears on top… and soon… an image appears.

It’s not her usual sparkly style but it’ll work for this. When she’s done, zapped out of her fervour, she gives him a very unimpressed look, red pupils only barely peeping out beneath the squint.

“Weirdo. Hitting on someone who’s spoken for is creepy.”

After that she turns back to her artwork and grins, slapping the chalk against the board a couple of times.

“Comedy and horror have always gone hand in hand. They can go together but did you know? Comedy’s actually stronger. You commercialize and make jokes out of big bad guys… they lose their power. ‘Cause fear’s their game. You take out the fear and you’ve got a shrunk bully. Then you just gotta kick it away!”

[shslthreestep]

It’s compelling, the way Lolita talks -- if they’re in a real live horror-show, then having someone genre-savvy is exactly what you need. Everything she says has the air of absolute confidence, because she’s done it all before, take after take -- an insidious monster tapping into the psyches of his victims must be old hat to her. Just a little more real than usual, is all. Once she takes the chalk, he seats himself on one of the desks, folding one leg over the other and watching her work. Now that the ghost of the dream is gone and the threat of an omen pertaining specifically to him is neutralized, it’s a lot easier to indulge in this kind of thing. Particularly as the drawing starts to take shape, the chalk flying across the blackboard with singular purpose. 

“--If it’s comedy you’re going for, you’ve definitely won, Lolita-chan.” he replies, laughing. Part of him worries the bear himself is going to pop up over his shoulder and complain that they just can’t get his nose right, but for the moment all seems quiet. “They should exhibit this in the Louvre, or something. A Villain Scorned, by L. Lovelace. Drawn to give the proverbial middle finger to a certain bear. But-”

He leans forward and speaks in a low tone, conspiratorial. “...Not to change the subject, but... you mentioned you were ‘spoken for’?” 

In all the research Nagi had done before coming to Hope’s Peak, he hadn’t seen anything about Lolita Lovelace having a paramour, and his curiosity is reaching fever pitch. “I’d really rather talk about that sort of thing than murder, so... who’s the lucky guy? Girl? Esteemed individual? I’m all ears.” 

[shinonomecorp-blog]

Yodelei Waiting | (Ab)normal Days 1 [OPEN]

[shinonomecorp-blog]

Ah, the more reasonable of the twins was here. She was surprised he didn’t just give an answer and walk away considering how their first interaction had played out. Perhaps the few days in between had given them time to cool their heads and not be so irritating. One could only hope.

“Adorable? …Don’t call me that.”

She crossed her arms and turned her body away from him. It felt strange, someone using a word like ‘adorable’ to describe her. Gross, actually. There’s no way someone like her could be ‘adorable.’ She shivered internally, and looked to the board again. Forget he even said anything.

“My father, Hanzo Shinonome, built the park with my childhood drawings as inspiration. It only feels right that the one who created this ‘world’ would be the one to carry it forward, hm?”

[shslthreestep]

Really, Nagi would have liked to be chivalrous and considerate and accept her request. Honestly. But the devil just flies in to him at her body language and response, and he’s speaking before he can stop himself.

“How about just ‘cute’, then? Cu-te.” he teases, exaggerating each syllable. He might have even run with the joke a little longer, but Suzuka’s explanation stops him in his tracks. 

“...Is that right?” he says, still outwardly chipper... but something seems to have stopped him in his tracks, a little. This is something else he didn’t expect from Suzuka... or Hanzo Shinonome, for that matter. A father who loves his child, creating an entire empire out of her dreams. 

Must be nice.

Bitterness twists in his gut, unbidden, and he half wants to leave, but part of him wants to keep digging, picking at that detail, find out exactly how different -- or similar -- their upbringing was. 

Nagi moves closer to the board, and examines the drawing. Tries to envision what it would look like in the drawn hand of a child. “...He must have cared about you a lot, staking his business on it. I bet your Yodelei concept was a lot less polished, when you were a kid.” 

He pauses, looks at Suzuka, looks back at the drawing, and smiles slyly. “...Well, a little less polished, anyway.”

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

mvt. 2: sotto voce [CLOSED]

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

For half a second she eyes him with suspicion, before leaping out of bed with a stupid grin on her face.  “What do you mean kicked in?  We’ve had that from the day we were born, idiot.”  Opening her mouth wide to yawn, Nami stretches up as tall as she can: just then, the morning announcement reverberates around the school.  Good morning, you bastards - not the most pleasant start to the day, but she’s feeling better than she has in over a week, and ready to face her classmates.

As is usual, it seems Nagi will take his extra time in bed while she showers, even if he’s not usually awake during that half hour.  But something in that thought makes Nami hesitate as he falls back on his pillows.  Over a week… it’s been a while they’ve been locked in here now.  Is anybody coming to save us, she wonders?  They would have come by now, surely, if they were coming.  Had they forgotten about her, on the outside, already?

“Do you think mother and father have even noticed we’re gone?” She laughs, grim.  It’s a joke, but a bit of a sad one.  “Or just that the prize money has stopped rolling into their account?”  Their manager surely would have noted their absence by now: their parents, she isn’t so sure.

[shslthreestep]

Nagi laughs, loudly, as the morning announcement rings out. It’s hardly the funniest joke he’s ever heard, objectively, but it’s a lot easier to laugh this morning than it has been for the past week and a half or so. May as well take full advantage of it. 

It seems Nami has something else on her mind, though, and while his newfound smile doesn’t totally fade... it certainly dims, a little.

“...I’d bet they’re probably either completely oblivious, or making a complete sob story of it to the media, depending on how big all of this is.” he says, after a moment of thought. He clutches his chest with one hand, wiping an imaginary tear from one eye with the other, and does his best to feign their mother’s voice. “Poor Izanami and Izanagi -- how could something like this possibly happen to the incredibly talented, profitable children I made? And they were all set to win another international championship, too. ”

He drops his hands, looks back at Nami, and smiles again, weakly -- it still stings, even if he’s kidding. There’s too much truth in it. . “...Something like that. If not, at least your Instagram followers’ll be missing you. That’s something, isn’t it?” 

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

mvt. 2: sotto voce [CLOSED]

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

Though she lies silent and impassive for most of Nagi’s explanation, when he reaches the end and feels the need to apologise to her Nami can’t help an exasperated pfft escaping her lips.  “Don’t say that.  I asked, didn’t I?” 

She rolls on to her side, smiles at him - a little weakly, but it’s genuine.  “Besides, I’m not stupid.  It’s moreorless what I’d figured too, I just didn’t wanna admit it as long as there was, y’know… reasonable doubt?  It’s scary!  I can deal, though.”  It would be easy for a stranger to think that Nami is not processing correctly, given her chipper attitude.  Nagi will know better, though: even though she’s still frightened, even though this is a horrible situation… she refuses to let anything scare her, whether that means ignoring it or just coming to terms with it as quickly as possible

“I should have been honest with you sooner, anyway.  It’s not fair if that stupid bear gets to hear what I think before you do!”  All is fine, and Nagi will forgive her, and they’ll be back to normal, of course: she’s never had to doubt that.  Still… it feels good to clear the air.  She feels lighter, despite the nightmares.

They’ll look after each other, and everything will be fine!

[shslthreestep]

He’d been half-worried that this was going to end in an argument -- a nagging voice in the back of his head, saying what if. The last thing he needed in this awful place was to lose Nami, too.

So when she sighs exaggeratedly, turns to face him and smiles... some of that heavy weight lifts from Nagi’s shoulders, the burden of the horrible situation suddenly, miraculously halved. 

“Who says he does? Maybe our twin telepathy’s finally developed and it just hasn’t kicked in for you, yet.” he suggests, smiling back. It’s a double-layered joke -- that Nagi would be the first of the two to do anything would be violating some kind of universal constant, he’s sure. 

“...Still, it’s good to have you back.” he says, the lightness seeping out of his voice, quickly replaced by vulnerable, heavy exhaustion as he sinks back against his pillows with a thump.  “I don’t know how much longer I could’ve taken it, on my own.” 

That was how it was. Even surrounded by people, even with all the charm and wit at his disposal, even with all the information and time in the world... he would never be as good as Nami at navigating that sort of thing solo. When they were on the same page and could make their way through it together, when he could bounce off of her and take her cues, everything just went more smoothly -- for both of them, he thought, but himself... 

Well, more so. Leave it at that. 

[shslfeatherstep-blog]

mvt. 2: sotto voce [CLOSED]

She wakes with a gasp, and wishes she could be surprised.

Four nights of bad dreams, now, and Nami’s illusion - her ability to fool herself - is wearing thin.  The one from which she’s just awoken hit her particularly hard: the image of the children gathered round the fire had been chilling enough, but the feeling of her breath being snatched from her lungs as a deep wound opened her torso out of nowhere… she touches her stomach, gingerly, afraid of what she’ll find.

Nothing.  Of course.  She lets out the breath she’s been holding, letting her hand fall back to her side, and lies for several moments in silence.  Just a dream.

But it wasn’t just a dream.  She’s not that stupid.

She doesn’t need to look to know Nagi is awake in the bed next to hers, chewing over what they’ve just seen, even though it feels strange to wake up at the same time after a lifetime of pre-empting him.  Things have been… a little strained between them since their inauguration to Hope’s Peak: Nagi, ever the conspiracy theorist, had leaned into the kidnapping theory with open arms, while she had done her best to pretend nothing was wrong.  They had spoken very little, and when they had she’d felt he was always tiptoeing around her, trying not to upset her, when all he wanted to talk about was what are we going to do.

Reaching up to run her fingers across the node, she decides she can’t stick her head in the sand any more.

“Okay,” Nami says finally, quietly, her eyes fixed to a point on the ceiling.  “I’m ready to hear the worst now.  No detail to be spared, please.  L’amener sur.”

[shslthreestep]

He wakes with a start, hand flying to his chest as he sits bolt upright, heart hammering against his ribcage. 

There’s no wound -- no campfire. Only the light of his bedside lamp, the silhouettes of fifteen children imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, and the sound of his and Nami’s heavy breathing weighing down the room. He leans over, turns the lamp off, and just... waits. 

Nami hasn’t gotten out of bed yet -- hasn’t breezed on with her morning, pretending like she’s been up half an hour already like she always is. It keeps him glued to his bed, tense and waiting for something to give.

Until it does. L’amener sur. 

“...Fais attention à ce que tu souhaites, Nami.” he says, but he does turn to face her, and sees she isn’t looking at him. He wrestles, momentarily, with whether or not to go to her side for this -- decides against it. Keeping it clinical might actually be for the best.

"When all this wasn’t happening, I thought -- maybe it could still be a joke in bad taste. That’s what I wanted it to be, God knows it would be easier.” 

He hesitates.

“...Then these... 'dreams’ started, and that went out of the window. Hope’s Peak Academy might do something as ridiculous as confine us for a day or two, if they could pull enough strings. Messing directly with our heads, though -- the things they’re making us see?”

Saying it out loud is difficult. His voice shakes.

“I think... we’re in this for the long haul. And it’s-- it’s getting really easy for me to think that it won’t stop until somebody’s d- been killed.” 

There’s a long pause. When Nagi speaks again, his voice is soft, his grip on his bedsheets tight.

“...Désolé.”

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslkaryukai-blog]

It was getting harder and harder to keep her appearances up. How could she when she had minimal supplies and she was going through a literal hell every night. She wandered the lonely halls, still spooked from the previous nights. The somber and dead atmosphere certainly didn’t help those thoughts. Suddenly, the quiet was interrupted with a murmur. Mameyoshi was certain she was beginning to lose it, since the voice seemed completely nonsensical… something about numbers? She couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like it was coming from the closest door to her. Leaning on the door, as if it would protect her, she slowly creaked it open.

“Tsukade-san, what is that?” She asked, her eyes resting on the scrawling on the board. That scene…

“You too…?” She asked, her voice merely a whisper. A mixture of fear and sympathy littered her tone, her words needed no extra confirmation of what she meant. So, they had the same dream… did this mean something? It seemed like that was Izanagi was trying to figure out– that or he was completely losing his grip.

[shslthreestep]

It’s probably a blessing that Mameyoshi doesn’t have access to the elaborate makeup she would normally be wearing, here -- in Nagi’s current terror-addled state, seeing a white-faced version of one of his classmates might have pushed him over the edge. 

As it is, when she comes into the classroom, she just looks like a girl -- another scared, confused kid in a situation way over her head. A kinder person might have offered comforting words or reassurances -- taken an interest in making sure the whole group was treading water, and not just himself and his sister.

Instead, Nagi just nods. “Me, too.” he says, and shrugs.  “It’s probably because of the earpieces. If they can read our thoughts, then there’s no reason why they couldn’t beam some in.... is what I’m thinking is happening, here.” 

He waves a hand at the board dismissively. “And probably keep happening, I imagine. I’m surprised you can work up the energy to look so put-together, under the circumstances.” 

Nagi smiles, ruefully. “The Super High School Level Maiko, an elegant lady with an iron will and perfect hair even in the face of murder? It’s hard not to hate you a little, Mameyoshi-chan.” 

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslfinalgirl-blog]

So she’s not just paranoid. It is the same dream. She’d sheepishly been stepping around details prior, hey, there’s no need to give away any personal nightmare-ish visions if they’re uniquely hers, after all. She’s no dream seer or whatever but there could be some clues to… like… mind psyche stuff. Either way, you don’t want to give other people the advantage if you can help it. He’s already got the height advantage. Jesus christ, how many does that make? What does these people eat? Are they really Japanese? No, maybe she’s just… special. It doesn’t matter, totally, really.

“You sound so flirty when you speak in French.”

A pouty frown appears on her face briefly before she sighs and presses on.

“It’s not like that. I just… didn’t know if we were dreaming the same thing, that’s all. I don’t see the point in babbling about stuff that might not matter! That’s common sense, right?”

Right, common sense! It makes perfect sense that she wouldn’t just spill everything in her head, rather, who would? It’s not like she’s being secretive or suspicious, it’s more just… this is simpler; easier. Best not to waste several hours on a subject no one cares about.

“It’s not that simple anyway. You can’t just avoid bad things. Bad things come for you. The only thing to do is to be ready.”

The air of confidence is important regardless of whether she has it or not. Honestly she’s not even sure. Can she defend herself if the time comes? When the time comes? Will there be a time where she has no choice but to strike herself? The key question either way is: do you have it in you? Lolita figures not quite yet. But soon enough. And that will do. She snaps back to reality when he asks her a question and steps to indicate the one by the squiggly monster. The outlier, as it were. Her nail taps against the surface, thankfully not making a hideous sound.

“On the outside, looking in, obvi. Same as you, huh? I mean, it sounds like a good formula to me. Everyone’s the outsider led in, looking in on the creepy cabal.”

It doesn’t seem like her tone is inviting much resistance to this notion but she’s pretty confident about that guess.

“But you already knew that, Nagi-kun. Right?”

[shslthreestep]

Slowly, shakily, Nagi exhales, the tension flows out of his body along with the air in his lungs. For a moment, he’d thought, maybe -- what if I was the only one outside? What if I was the only one that was the victim?

But it was the same -- for Lolita, at least, and by extension, probably everyone else, too. He could rest safe in the knowledge that he wasn’t being singled out, that there were no grim omens in his nightly horror show that pertained only to him. Illuminati busted.

“I hoped so, Lolita-chan.” he says, that edge gone from his voice, now softened with relief. He puts the chalk down, picks up a blackboard eraser, and starts to wipe his rendition of the scene away. It’s therapeutic, almost, to vanish the rendition of the midnight terror with his own hands. “I didn’t really think about it that way, though. It is cinematic, isn’t it? I suppose you’d know better than most -- you’re used to being the protagonist in peril.” 

Nagi turns, smiles. Motions to the bags under his eyes. If you can’t hide it, own it. “...Me, not so much.”

He puts down the eraser, surveys the board... then offers the chalk to Lolita. Her confirmation of his initial thoughts lightened his mood considerably -- she should be rewarded for that, in some way. “Feel free to replace it with something less... ah, existentially terrifying. You didn’t look all too keen on it. As for the French--”

His smile broadens into a rakish grin. “What makes you think it’s not deliberate, mon poussin?” 

[shslthreestep]

mvt. 2: un vrai cauchemar [OPEN]

[shslfinalgirl-blog]

Wandering is a good way of preoccupying the mind and that, for Lolita, is crucial. Being frightened is nothing new - you could argue she’s spent a good few years fighting demons, the things no one else believes in nor cares about. But being trapped… that adds a whole new complication. With enough time… enough persistence, she can usually make sense of dark thoughts and in understanding them, being able to construct and deconstruct them, the fear goes away. But there’s no understanding these terrors. For one, replaying them is a no-go, not that that’s an appealing thought in itself. Each day a brand new darkness greets her, ushering her into a vivid screenplay with a predictably tragic end. Every time she wakes up she wants to believe she’s got a better hold on it, on herself. But no one’s quite that lucky, even the Scream Queen herself, with all her years of experience.

God, how does it feel so realistic? Movies could kill for that kind of power. Maybe it’s these stupid earpieces. Eugh, maybe she doesn’t want to think about it at all.

Instead she walks, questing for a good distraction, her heels just tap-tapping away as she searches the corridors for something, anything to spark her motivation. That something comes in an interesting form, in the classroom. She hadn’t really had much of an interest in the room until she spotted someone inside it. Someone by the chalkboard… her eyes go up to it and then widen. That’s a familiar scene, alright and it makes her frown.

“If you draw something that morbid it’s like you’re asking something bad to happen.”

Her tone cracks like a whip, honestly harsher than she’d anticipated. She pulls a bothered sort of expression one that portrays some tiredness as she raises a hand in a peace-making gesture. Potentially starting a fight when tensions are so high is a dumb move and isn’t on her to-do list, anyway.

“Sorry, that came out wrong, it just reminded me of… something. Anyway, no harm, no foul and all, right?”

At this point, she steps into the room properly, but her eyes remain fixated on the chalkboard. It’s like she can hear the heartbeat thudding in her ears as her mind auto-completes the image to match the grisly theatre of her own mind. How thoroughly unpleasant.  

[shslthreestep]

Nagi’s just reaching up to scratch some of the white chalk on his drawn self’s chest -- to represent the wound -- when a voice interrupts and startles him. He whips round, a tense deer-in-the-headlights for a moment -- and relaxes, when he sees it’s Lolita Lovelace. She doesn’t sound happy, but if worst came to worst, he could probably take her. Maybe. She’s pretty small.

Luckily, it doesn’t look like it’s going to come to that -- the little actress suddenly seems to collapse in on herself a little, apologising. He’s not sure Nami would forgive him if he got into a fight with this particular classmate, so... well, thank God for small blessings, he supposed.

“So you had the same dream, Lolita-chan?” he asks, with a wry, tired smile. Well, there’s some information, he supposes. It’s obvious that everyone else is dreaming, too, but... again, point A. “You can say it, chérie -- It won’t make it any more real than it already is. This isn’t Candyman.” 

He looks back at the board. Pauses. “That might be easier to deal with, though. Just stay away from mirrors and watch your mouth, and... you’re fine. No murder.” 

Murder. Sixteen figures. One seperate. 

A chill runs down his spine.

“--Lolita-chan,” Nagi says again, suddenly, facing the board as a sudden nervous knife edge laces the manufactured calm of his voice, “Where -- or, who were you, rather?” 

He steps to the side -- taps the chalk on the group of fifteen stick figures. “Someone here?” 

And then, slowly, he moves his hand over to the lone figure and its companion. “--Or here?” 

He doesn’t believe in omens, not really, no matter how interesting he finds them. But if they’re all having the same dream, there’s no guarantee they’re all having it from the same perspective, and if he’s the only one who--

“...Humour me, s’il vous plaît.” he finishes, through gritted teeth.