After School Detention (
detentionroom) wrote2025-07-15 01:31 pm
[KENKOU]
[You needed an escape.
For a moment– however brief, or however not– you longed to get away. Perhaps you envisioned a vacation upon sunny, beachy shores, palm trees at your back and seagulls floating in the air. Perhaps you envisioned nothing at all, and merely accepted that anywhere but here would do. Either way. . .?
You blink. . . and you wake up slouched on a school desk, arms folded with head resting between. You lift your gaze and realize that you've woken up in the middle of a classroom, seated in one of the. . . uh, very few functional desks that remain. The others have been broken into pieces, with legs and splinters of wood scattered across the floor. Deep claw marks decorate the walls, having gouged the sheetrock with jagged, violent gashes. The window curtains are closed, but they too have been torn and ripped to shreds, with holes showing a dark and unidentifiable landscape beyond the four walls which trap you.
And written on the blackboard, in large, white letters that seem to glow in the midst of the dim room lighting, is a warning]
DO NOT GIVE THEM YOUR NAME.
[. . . you are not alone]
[Each and every new arrival awakens dressed in a high school-issued track uniform. The design is up to the players, but each uniform is already color-coded to match the group at large. Somewhere on your body is a new marking: a mysterious floral design shaded the same color as your track uniform. It is glowing very gently. And in your pocket you feel. . . something warm. Further investigation reveals a tiny little omamri, tucked away in your outfit, for safe keeping. Huh! What a nice gift!]
[For now, the front door to the classroom is locked. No matter how hard you try– with physical prowess or otherwise– the door cannot be opened.]
[But hey! You can poke around the area, if you'd like! Maybe get to know your new classmates. . . ? Try not to panic. For now, everything is. . . calm]
For a moment– however brief, or however not– you longed to get away. Perhaps you envisioned a vacation upon sunny, beachy shores, palm trees at your back and seagulls floating in the air. Perhaps you envisioned nothing at all, and merely accepted that anywhere but here would do. Either way. . .?
You blink. . . and you wake up slouched on a school desk, arms folded with head resting between. You lift your gaze and realize that you've woken up in the middle of a classroom, seated in one of the. . . uh, very few functional desks that remain. The others have been broken into pieces, with legs and splinters of wood scattered across the floor. Deep claw marks decorate the walls, having gouged the sheetrock with jagged, violent gashes. The window curtains are closed, but they too have been torn and ripped to shreds, with holes showing a dark and unidentifiable landscape beyond the four walls which trap you.
And written on the blackboard, in large, white letters that seem to glow in the midst of the dim room lighting, is a warning]
DO NOT GIVE THEM YOUR NAME.
[. . . you are not alone]
[Each and every new arrival awakens dressed in a high school-issued track uniform. The design is up to the players, but each uniform is already color-coded to match the group at large. Somewhere on your body is a new marking: a mysterious floral design shaded the same color as your track uniform. It is glowing very gently. And in your pocket you feel. . . something warm. Further investigation reveals a tiny little omamri, tucked away in your outfit, for safe keeping. Huh! What a nice gift!]
[For now, the front door to the classroom is locked. No matter how hard you try– with physical prowess or otherwise– the door cannot be opened.]
[But hey! You can poke around the area, if you'd like! Maybe get to know your new classmates. . . ? Try not to panic. For now, everything is. . . calm]

[ARRIVAL MINGLING]
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the only good thing about this is that she's no longer out in a storm. everything else? horrible. terrible. awful. she's not a fan! quietly, she looks around to the others- all adults, except one other, a boy her age...?
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wack.
she's going to get up and delicately navigate her way to the windows- ... bad idea. very bad idea. )
What...
( also others will notice that while her body and the track uniform (a white shirt, shorts and windbreaker, the latter two kenkou colors) are dry, her hair is soaked. )
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She'd made vague note of the girl, closer to Yuffie's age, whose hair was damp. Given everything else going on here, that must just add to the discomfort. So, on top of also wanting to see if they can look out the windows, Tifa does want to check on her. Everyone else here must have also ended up in this place with no warning, right? ]
Hey. [ She approaches, seeming calmer than she was a few moments ago. ] Are you okay...?
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--Here.
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Tifa startles up from her desk and looks around the classroom in a panicked daze. This isn't right, she should be back in the sanctum of the Temple of the Ancients — with the others. She'd been undergoing the Cetra's trial, but...
For a moment, just for a moment, she'd thought about how she didn't want to be there, reliving one of the worst days of her life. How she didn't want to do this, or to face whatever's happening to Cloud. Does that mean... she failed? And if so, why has it brought her to a classroom of all places?
She notes the others in clothing like one might wear to the gym, but none of their faces are familiar. She tries to control her breaths as panic continues to well up in her, then marches over to the room's single door, pulling at it with all her might. ]
Please— I need to get back...
[ But it doesn't seem to matter how strong she is, how hard she's trained her body. That door isn't budging. ]
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Approaches behind her after handing off his coat to Mafuyu ]
Is it jammed?
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It seems absurd that all that effort wasn't so much as budging that door, but - maybe it was her panic, causing poor form?]
Pardon me. If I may - perhaps I could lend a hand?
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Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
Snaps the rest of the way upright, almost tumbling his chair backwards in the process. Frantically stares down at his hands and arms and-- well, under the fresh new school clothing, bro looks like he was just in an explosion or something? There are plenty of burns and scratches and bruises, though nothing overly serious.
Stands, once he realizes there are other people here ]
... Uh. Hey. You okay?
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I'm afraid the one who warrants such concern here is you, my friend. You look roasted to a crisp!
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ok, not all the way fine. she looks a bit accusatory. judgey, mayhaps. ]
You're the one asking that?
You're asking ME that?
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Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
But this classroom wasn't what he expected when he opens his eyes.]
Goddess...! What is this place?
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Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
[ there's an expected sort of disorientation that comes with arriving in a place one was not anticipating to end up, coming from this lady over here, naturally. it's a groggy surprise that ends up in a confused sort of grumpiness as she takes in her surroundings.
more than the ominous blackboard, more than the broken furniture and the claw marks around them, there seems to be (1) thing she's most upset about as she straighens up out of her chair -- ]
I ALREADY GRADUATED!!
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his burning eyes flick over the blackboard. do not give them your name. no sooner has he read the words than that voice blares out across the PA system, and blade hums. he's not alone here. five others that he can see are in this room alongside him, and here he is, without his weapon.
tense, he casts his gaze toward whoever's nearest. ]
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[THE JOURNAL + YEARBOOK]
[You may open it to read what is written inside]
[Alternatively: perhaps you'd prefer to examine the yearbook instead! It includes pictures and brief profiles of everyone on your team only. Isn't it fun to snoop??]
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they're deliberate.
she starts with the journal, coughing softly into one hand. it must be from the rain...
... 'the consequence of being surrounded by'... )
... Huh?
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Nothing here seems to have anything to do with health and wellness, despite the claims of the message written in the journal. And while it would be hard to say yet, she doesn't feel like the people around her count as "a band of reckless morons," either.
But then, the next page. A description of some sort of affliction or illness, supposedly caused by—
Without thinking, she drops the book, letting it clatter back against the desk. ]
— What?
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Re: [THE JOURNAL + YEARBOOK]
This is a pretty small class size, isn't it?
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[ROUND ONE]
Oh dear. . . you must be so confused. So lost! Such wayward children. . . I would like to help you. I can help you, if you'd give me the chance! Would you not like to go home. . . ? To fall asleep and re-awaken in the comfort of your own bed?
I can help you. Won't you please tell me who you are? Won't you please give me your names?
[The speakers go quiet, and any attempt to address the voice with questions or inquiries will be met with silence. But you have been given a choice]
[Whom do you oblige. . .?]
[DECISION]
[Please have your decisions submitted by Sunday, July 20 at 8:00 a.m. MT. Timezone conversions are in discord!]
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Re: [ROUND ONE]
Kinda weird to put a condition like that on the help.
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1/3
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[ROUND TWO]
Ehehe. . . oh. . . so you refuse my assistance, do you. . .? I see. . . I see. I see! I see I see I see I sEE I SEE i sEe i sEE I SEE I SEE I̴̼̜͇͕̦̦̻̅͑̈́̊̑̒͗̍͊̈́̕ͅ ̸̧̪͖͚̳̙̪̦͎̙̩̮̂̍̚͜͝S̷̢̢̢̢͇͕̗̰͍͉̗͚̙̙̲̼̱̓́̍͊͘͝Ȩ̸͙̭̀͑Ḙ̷̢͕̎͂̈́ ̸͕̖̻̳̲̖̻͙̠͛ͅI̸̡̫̗̮̠͈͈̠̗̰̺̓̊̊͝ ̸̡̝͉̟̦̹̫̙̭̫͎̀̆͜ͅS̵̩̤̠̈̋̌͊̊͒̊̒̆̚͘͠E̷͈͍̺͎̹̯̍̽̾̉Ḛ̸̛͉̺̦̤̦͎̞̀̀͂̂̇̉̽͊̔̀̑̍̕ͅ ̶̡̛̮̞̜̹͚̘̮̰̮͕̈́̉͛͝ͅȊ̷̧̡̱̭̥͉̞̣̗͎̩̼̠́͜ ̵̮̅̀͋̽̓S̶̰̳͖̮̯̖̖͍͕̍̂́̇̃͐̉͆̿̿͒̕̚͜͠Ȇ̷͉̅̑E̴̢̘̠̺͕̔̉̓̎̕͜͜ ̴̢̥͓͍̾̂̀̂̿̂͠Ỉ̶̢͕̺̤͕͚̝̐̒̾̏̏̏̚ͅ ̸̡̪͇͚̝̘̝͕̦͇̆̆͒̎̇͒́̆̈́̋S̷̛̝̼̫̫̈́̿͌̑̒̒͊̾̇̈̏̈́͝͝E̴̟̟̫̣̩̩̰̳͎̬̯͕̱̣͛͋̉̃̈́͋̋͛̈́͛̒̈́̕͜E̴̢̨̗̜͍̜̝̥̽̀̀̅̃̋͗̄́̽–
[-- the voice and the white noise suddenly and abruptly stop, just as the lights around you go out, plunging you all into complete and utter blackness]
[They flicker on a second later, now tinted a deep, blood red, painting the entire room in shades of scarlet. Where there was nothing before there are now hundreds of thin. . . strings? Long stretches of wire? They cling to the corners of the room like spiderwebs, and are draped across the desks and blackboard like ominous stringy curtains. Some even dangle from the ceiling, perfectly within reach, if you have the inclination to touch!]
[From some of those wires hang porcelain dolls, strung up by various limbs. . . and sometimes their necks. Each one is dressed in a tattered kimono, and their faces are cracked or– in some cases– outright shattered. Even more dolls are seated against the walls, some positioned upright while others have fallen over.]
[The window curtains have been pulled open. An ominous shadow looms in the distance. A single bell tolls.]
[Something is coming]
[INSTRUCTIONS]
[There are seven places where you may search for the key:
1) Underneath a spaghetti-like pile of string in a corner
2) Inside a cracked doll's face
3) Inside a cubby hole stuffed with shoes
4) Behind a broken wall clock
5) Underneath the teacher's podium
6) Inside the supply closet
7) The dangling strings from the ceiling]
[You may search a total of three times. Characters may poke at places not included in the list above, but they will not find anything of note (though they may find something spooky)! If the key is not found after three attempts. . . well. . .]
[. . . good luck!]
[OOC NOTES: I FORGOT TO CW FOR SPIDERS (NO PICTURES JUST WORDS), IF YOU ARE ARACHNOPHOBIC PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU SUBMIT AND I WILL BE KIND!!]
[Please also note that the character who submits the search will be the one doing it ICly! I need to know this for. Reasons.]
[DISCUSSION]
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SEARCHING DOLL FACES - cw: spiders
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Round 2 sucks to suck
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[DECISION]
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[RESULTS 1/2] CW: SPIDERS (WORDS ONLY NO PICTURES)
[FAILURE]
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[RESULTS - SUCCESS!!]
[ESCAPE!]
NO! No no no NOno no No nO NO nonononono–
[the sharp threads dangling from the ceiling lash out at you as you try to escape, but to no avail. The key fits into the lock perfectly, opening it with a relieving click.]
[You stumble into freedom]