#dtm ic

[hopehopehopehopehopehopeho-blog1]

[ ANGEL OR DEVIL ] OPEN POST

Bad luck. This was definitely… bad luck. The feeling of a heavy metal bat hitting the back of his head, that was without a doubt bad luck. Probably not too great for his health, either.

The good luck, though he was a little too unconscious to appreciate it, was that the rioter who had knocked him out was immediately distracted by a small explosion a few blocks away, and ran to the latest site of despair instead of staying to further bash Komaeda’s skull in.

It was nearing dawn, and Komaeda had really only been ten minutes or so away from heading back to his shelter, determining his foraging to be a bust for now, when he had, bad luck, unknowingly passed a group of men and women with the Monobear masks covering their faces. Good luck, most of them had been too busy with in-fighting to spot him. Bad luck, the one who had come after him was bigger and faster than him. Good luck, Komaeda had a bullet with him, and it was loaded and ready in his gun—

And now he was sprawled out on the ground, face down with a large bump and possibly some blood on the back of his head, his gun still at his hip and totally unused.

Bad luck or good luck, he had lost track of what was what, he wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened his eyes, but the first thing to reach his senses was the distinctive sound of shoes on the concrete next to him. So he had company.

With a quiet groan he started to lift himself off the ground, his head spinning. Someone was standing over him, he could tell that much without looking, but he had no idea who it could be, and his vision was still swimming from the impact so when he finally turned his head to look up at them it was still unclear.

“Uh, haha.. hey. Please don’t kill me?”

So. Was it good luck or bad luck?

[simplicityandfortitude-blog]

Fed to the Rules and I Hit the Ground Running || {dtm open}

The streets were mean and law and order could basically be thrown out the window because who needs rules and laws, who needs to follow anything but their personal creed in a post apocalyptic world?

Kiyotaka Ishimaru did.

And he was hell bent on returning order to what was left of this world.

Boots crunched underneath him. Glass, asphalt, the crackle of flames from some of the fires rioters had set, he heard them all. He needed to find someone he knew, and fast.

He didn't want to admit that he was scared. He was a leader dammit! Leaders don't get scared!

...

Or maybe leaders are the ones who are the most scared, in the end.

[i-nvestigatrix-blog]

♟ // ʟɪғᴇ ᴠs ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ [ᴅᴛᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ]

[...She was out of one bad scenario, only to get right back into another.

There was at least something she could credit Enoshima on; she hadn't lied about the state of the world during their final trial. The young detective now found herself in the midst of many rioters, however, she was not discouraged nor worried for two reasons: one - she had promised not to lose Hope when she and the other made their escape, and two - she had a weapon on her. Any one that accosted her with harmful intentions would immediately be greeted with a bullet to the head. That would, fortunately, be her last resort, but she certainly would not hesitate if her life felt threatened.

She walked with light strides, a gloved hand grasping her pistol gently, and maintained her calm, collected demeanour. She never was one to panic, no matter what situation she was in; never once did she become frightened during Hope's Peak, and this certainly would be no exception. She certainly had to seek shelter, however - to stay here would mean risking her life. (She'd much rather save the trouble of confrontation.)

She continued her journey, suddenly stopping upon sensing one's presence behind her. Friend or foe? Either way, they were greeted with a gun directed towards their general direction, finger on the trigger.]

...Who's there? Reveal yourself.

[hopehopehopehopehopehopeho-blog1]

[ ONE STEP AT A TIME ] CLOSED-JUNKO

He was tired. His mind was wandering too much, he could barely trust himself to pay attention to his surroundings, he kept asking himself questions he knew he couldn't answer. He was dirty and hungry and weak but most of all he was so very tired.

He had survived most of the night, the sun would probably start rising in a few hours and he had at the very least managed to make it to a less... busy area. No one was in sight at least, and Komaeda was considering curling up in the gutter right here. That was stupid and dangerous, but at this point he was wondering if he cared.

He sighed, moved a crushed can out of the way with his foot and put up his hood to maybe blend in with the ground better, but as he was on his knees and ready to lay down to take a nap he might not wake up from, he glanced back up and stopped himself. With all the destroyed, crumbling buildings around, it was easy to stop looking for something habitable, but just across the street there was what looked like... a dorm? Maybe he was just delusional (it wouldn't be anything new), but it looked like maybe it would be okay, and, well, it beat the gutter.

He was careful crossing the street, looked around to make sure no one was there to see him before searching for a back door and sneaking in that way. Once he had closed the door quietly behind him, he was delighted to see that it looked even better inside than out. He wanted to search the place thoroughly for safety's sake, he really had every intention to, but the first room he peeked his head into to check was a bedroom. Oh, that bed just looked so inviting. Maybe if he just... closed the bedroom door behind him, and took a tiny break on the bed... just to catch his breath......

------

The shades on the room's window were shut tight, so when Komaeda opened his eyes, he couldn't be sure how much time had passed. Was it daylight? Had he slept the whole day through and it was the next night? Had his eyes only been closed a few seconds? Any one of those options seemed perfectly reasonable, but that wasn't so important right now. What was important was why he'd been woken up -- footfalls somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom he had crashed in. There was someone else here. It sounded like just one person, not a lot of stomping around or anything, so he couldn't be certain it was a rioter or anyone else... He could wait here and hope the person didn't check this room themselves, or he could try to go out and see who it was.

He was still tired, and his muscles ached terribly, so going back to sleep was a tempting idea... But no, he had already decided he wouldn't like to die a pointless death, and getting stabbed in his sleep was excessively pointless (well, except for the point on the knife). Komaeda offered the bed that had treated him so well a quiet groan of regret as he stood up and tried to stretch his muscles back into semi-usable condition, and eased the door open silently to peek out into the hall.

Her back was turned, so technically he couldn't possibly know who she was. She hadn't been on the island with him, after all. But the distinctive pigtails and confident stature, it hit something deep in him that he didn't know he had, and he was certain even without seeing her face. SHSL Despair herself, Junko Enoshima. Before he knew what he was doing he had opened the door fully and stepped out into the hall.

"You... What are you doing here?" He hadn't heard that kind of restrained anger in his own voice in a long time.

[talentlessamnesiac-blog]

I can hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums || {dtm open}

Heart pounding in his ears, ears ringing as he ran. The sound of rubber hitting pavement as he ran. His thin fingers wrapped tightly around the steel pipe in his hand.

The weapon wasn't much really, he had basically just grabbed the first thing he had seen and hoped it would work. To be honest, he was very worried about encountering anyone with an actual gun, friend or foe for that matter. The area they were in, the situations, he knew what something like that could do to people. Friends becoming foes, foes becoming friends. Sometimes the world is twisted.

His feet led him to nowhere in particular, his body twisting and molding to fit blind spots for the rioters. Funny how in times like this, the darkness can be a beacon of hope, but other times, you can't really stand it. Nothing was safe... he needed to find a place to live, and fast, if he wanted even consider living in the end.

This wasn't really living, it was survival.

[hopehopehopehopehopehopeho-blog1]

[ LUCKY SHOT ] INTRO-OPEN

Just one bullet. One bullet, loaded and ready, that he had no intention of ever using. His death would have no purpose here, would provide no hope in a situation where everyone was killing everyone for no greater reason than to spread despair, and so Komaeda had decided that even if someone was SHSL, if they didn't have a good reason, he would not let them kill him. Not here, not now. Maybe later.

But for the same purpose, he didn't particularly want to kill anyone. No hope would be gained by it, as he had every confidence in his ability to survive in mundane situations such as this, and killing changed nothing at all. He would rather bludgeon someone into submission and get away than actually do permanent damage, but carrying something capable of that would also be inviting attacks, and if he could go without confrontation at all, that would be best for now. He could trust his luck, forever and ever, he had no skills to use but he could always trust his luck, the only constant in his life. And so, when he needed something, he would find it. Always.

So he wasn't worried. He hadn't found anything yet, and the person pursuing him seemed pretty set on ending his worthless existence -- he couldn't blame them, but now wasn't the time for that. Maybe later. For now he did his best to outrun the mask-wearing woman behind him, dodging obstacles without too much trouble, as he looked for something to use to his advantage. Nothing yet. But that was okay. If he kept going, it would come.

When a piece of wood slid under his shoe and his body hit the concrete floor of the building remnant they had been running through, Komaeda wondered just how this was going to work out. No weapon, no leverage, and his (now quickly approaching) attacker had something heavy and blunt that she seemed absolutely insistent on using to bash in his skull.

He rolled onto his back to look up at her, his voice holding an honestly apologetic tone.

"Sorry, but this isn't a good time for me to die."

She scoffed and brought what he could now see was a metal pipe down in a swift stabbing motion, sharp end down, and if her aim had been true Komaeda didn't doubt he would have been impaled quite unpleasantly. However, the flinch he managed in the time he had to react was enough, and the pipe came down against his right hip instead.

One bullet. He'd never intended to use it, but as luck would have it, the pipe hit his concealed handgun at just the right angle to pull the trigger. And the way it was pointed, it just so happened to hit the woman in the chest -- right through her heart, most likely. She slumped over instantly, her body and pipe falling to the floor in a clatter next to Komaeda.

Er. Well. That wasn't quite how Komaeda had wanted this encounter to go. But he couldn't argue with his own survival, so with a sigh he readjusted and concealed his now empty gun and picked himself up off the dirty concrete, rubbing his back where it had hit a piece of debris during his fall. He glanced back at the fresh corpse, not hiding the flash of disdain that crossed his face.

"Good riddance." Whether he had meant it or not, every less despair-driven person in the world was one more point towards hope regaining its foothold. That kind of trash was even worse than himself, disgusting swine. ...Disgusting ursine?

[diceandfrills-blog]

♠ ，ᴛʀᴜᴍᴘ ᴄᴀʀᴅ. [ᴅᴛᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ]

[What an uncanny situation she found herself in: being freed from death's hold, only to find herself in a predicament just as horrible as that of Hope's Peak Academy. It appeared that the mastermind had been correct with their words: living inside the academy was much more hospitable than being outside amidst the rioters. Though, blunders could not have been fixed: she had made her mistake (however, she didn't view it as such - the word 'mistake' was not in Celestia's vocabulary) by being the murderess of Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Hifumi Yamada. All that was left now was for her to 'adapt' to her surroundings - the same lie she had been feeding to her classmates.

In this case, it was not a lie; it was words of wisdom, and lest she be killed again, she would have to demote herself and follow them. Whilst her former situation was nothing more than an amusing game, this was the cold reality - however, skilled as she was, she had her tricks up her sleeve. There was no doubt that her lies and deception would assist her greatly in this new struggle to survive. But that would be a bridge she'd cross when she came to it. As for now, she would resort to a game of 'cat-and-mouse': she would do her best to remain hidden, only passing through dark, narrow spaces and other areas that would mask her person, until she found decent housing. (Certainly something she should not fret about at the time, but given her nature, she would not settle for a pitiful shelter.)

And so, the game began. With small hurried steps, she scrambled through the endless calamity, every so often dashing into a nearby alleyway or behind an abandoned building, if she heard someone approach. How embarrassing for her to behave in such a way - someone that was once at the top, striking fear into others, who was now fearing for her own life. Needless to say, she did not want to be accosted, but in the events that she did, well... given whether the one who had approached her was friend or foe, a familiar acquaintance or utter stranger, if her cunning did not get her out of danger, the small dagger hidden inside her left leg's stocking would be a most suitable resolution.

Seeing that the coast was clear, she continued her quest for shelter, maneuvering in the darkness bar the moonlight; however, her guard remained up, having never dropped actually, and she would be much prepared for a confrontation with another individual.]

[makangos]

One Chance {dtm open!}

 Sonia Nevermind could remember a long time ago when the streets would be lit up by lights and flashing signs. She could remember when it was safe to walk outside... When you wouldn't hear screams and gunshots every night. Those were the days. They really were.

As quietly as she could, Sonia pushed the manhole cover to the side and climbed out of the sewer. Many people had started shelters down there, and most of the time they made sure the sewage didn't get all over the place.

Tiptoeing out of the alley, she peeked around the corner. Good, no rioters. Even if there were any, she had a gun strapped to her leg and several magazines strapped to the other. In truth, she didn't want to use the gun. She didn't think she could shoot even Junko Enoshima.

Sonia was ready to be back on the surface, she really was. Still, being out here where she could be killed? It terrified her more than anything. After a few moments of running, she heard voices, and ducked into an alleyway, using the shadows as cover. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she feel her heart beating rapidly.

It was going to be a long night.