After School Detention (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
detentionroom) wrote2025-07-15 01:31 pm
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]
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
... Ah, that... is true. I hope it's not necessary though...
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
If the voice demanding our names cannot be trusted, then we have no way of determining whether its power is legitimate, either.
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
I don't really... believe in magic. Or I didn't before this. But I've met a ghost before, so I can at least believe in that... Maybe I should have thought of more being possible after that?
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
If-- you don't mind, I'd like to know more about this encounter with a ghost? Was this someone you once knew...?
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
My friends and I were exploring abandoned or supposedly haunted places, to try and... expose ourselves to new things when one of us was struggling with a creative block. The last stop was an abandoned school. I saw something, so I went off on my own.
It seemed to be a little girl. She wanted help getting her shoe- it looked like someone had tied it in a branch above her reach. Once I got it down for her, she brought me to the courtyard to show me the tree in the middle- the flowers were in bloom.
... It was... a very beautiful sight. And I'm grateful to her for showing it to us.
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
are you sure it was a ghost?]
And... this was all it needed, to rest in peace?
[then, warmth spreads across his expression]
...You and your friends, you're very kind. To have gone out of your way to help her.
Re: [ARRIVAL MINGLING]
They are. I learn something new from them every day, it seems. ( they had nothing to do with this event beyond getting her there, actually. ) ... But... I want to help people. So I'm glad for it.