WEEK 2

[whimsicalism]

WEEK TWO

Two weeks is plenty of time to get used to a new school, but the horrors of Ira Academy are likely to require much more acclimation than that. The lesson learned this weekend may be more important than anything else taught thus far: Regardless of motivation, regardless of friendliness, regardless of heroism, any member of the student body could turn out to be a killer.

Starting this week, the immovable, impenetrable glass wall blocking the staircase by the first aid station has receded. Students are free to go up the stairs beyond that wall and leave the ground floor of the school for the first time.

The new area that opens up in the Academy couldn't come at a better time. Past the landing, where a new ascending flight of stairs now waits behind another thick impenetrable wall of glass, the second floor greets students with muted, calming colors. The rooms in this area of the school house activities targeted at calming, freeing, or emptying the mind. After witnessing such terrible things on Saturday, it would be lovely to clear such thoughts away entirely, wouldn't it?

On Monday, classes will resume as normal, as if the student body had not undergone recent and horrific attrition. At least there are a fair few more places to hide now that the next floor has opened up, and it might be easier to avoid the Little Brothers trying to herd you into the classroom every now and then. It would be easy to let unease and paranoia reign over everyone. Perhaps, come Tuesday again, there will be another announcement from the Principal, holding another threat over everyone's head until the right person snaps and attempts the optional capstone project. There may be another mysterious phenomenon to follow through the school, seeking a hint of meaning or answers. Of course, you could all give up and choose re-education.

How will you move on?

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday
Regains | AC | IC Profiles | Locations | Mystery Information | A Contact | Sheep Contact

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Week 2. The Prefect has been removed from play until further notice and will no longer be able to be contacted. Mod Shay will continue to work for the game on an administrative level. ICly, the Principal will mention vaguely that the Prefect has been removed from her duties for the foreseeable future. The IC rules will be updated to reflect this and that's how the characters will find out. The sheep will take up her work monitoring the school and have their own contact post, and the A/V room is still locked. While you're free to question this ICly, please be mindful of others and try not to push the issue either ICly or OOCly. This isn't related to the plot and shouldn't be treated as such.

As a reminder, AC runs Sunday to Sunday concurrent with these posts and is collected based on the prior week; this means you have a whole week to get in AC for the week prior. AC for week 1 should be submitted no later than this coming Sunday. Remember to submit your regains! Also, if you want to investigate put INVESTIGATE on your subject line, please!

Comments

TUESDAY

[whimsicalism]

MOTIVE

[whimsicalism]

[This Tuesday, a Little Brother unit approaches each student around lunchtime. Each robot reaches into its wooly chassis and withdraws a small parcel, which they press into the hands of its respective recipient.

After the gifts are handed over, the sheep immediately make a beeline away. They don’t even stay around to sign as the Principal’s voice booms through the PA system. Instead, his words are recorded in writing on a small note, like a gift card, taped to each butcher's paper-wrapped box.]

Last week was a disappointment for everyone. Well, except for the clown, I guess. This week, however, I expect great things from everyone. No more pulling punches! If you prefer those back at home over your fellow students then this should force your hand, right? Here’s some proof that I know what you hold dear.

[Though the speech clearly evokes the contents of the package, it’s probably best to be certain. Upon unwrapping and opening their box, students will find three things: 1) a plain folder with a few photographs of someone important to them, taken in secret from a few feet away; 2) a lock of hair or similar physical evidence, such as feathers, fur, scales, or cloth; 3) a small, innocuous personal affect, like a teddy bear, watch, or old sweater (maybe it even still smells like them). Those who do not or no longer have someone important to them will instead find evidence of something (a place, perhaps, or a thing) important enough that, if it were destroyed or damaged, it would devastate them.]

What are you waiting for?! The clock's ticking, I'm not a patient man.

Re: MOTIVE

[lets_dewey_it]

...no...

No no no no NO!

NO!!!

_{[And just like that, he was bolting back to his room without a word to anyone else.]}

[canreallymove]

[Sonic's hand angrily grasps his package when he opens it and sees what, exactly, is in it.

This was unacceptable. If the Principal really, really thinks he's going to-

He slams down his box and points at the speaker. Yeah, he knows it's useless, but you know what? He does not care.]

Too bad, you creep! You're just gonna have to keep waiting!

All you're doin' is makin' me mad!

[No wonder the sheep left, he might have tossed one of them at the speakers. Because...how dare he.

How. Dare. He. Do. This.

He's really wanting to replace Buttnik as the Person Sonic Hates Most. It's a race to the bottom at this point.]

[cellpreservation]

[He really shouldn't have opened the package. But he did, and with the announcement, he goes pale, hastily wrapping it all up again and setting it down (albeit out of reach of anyone else in the area.)]

[violence_ensues]

[Adorabat sets the three photographs she got in front of her. Each of them depict a trio of people in various situations.]

Adorabat just laughs and stands on the table.]

You big, dumb buttface! Mao Mao and Badgerclops are MORE than a match for you!

[curdle]

[ Thomasin takes the parcel numbly, watching the Little Brothers abscond, and listens to the Principal speak. Her mind wanders.

She didn't make a great fuss upon receiving her motive a week ago, and yet they all still suspected her for Luz's murder. Should she open this thing here and now, to prove she has nothing to hide? Would that even matter?

But then everyone else starts reacting, and she realizes how foolish and selfish her thinking has been. Of course everyone will be frightened and angry and righteous, after a threat to their loved ones. She must fix her mind on something other than her own survival. She opens the parcel, pulls out a folder, tentatively opens it up — and then her eyes go wide with shock and she shuts it as quickly as she can. ]

[bellabellabella]

[Edward would have gone white, if he were not already so pale, when he opened the package and saw--and smelled--their contents.

There was no way to counterfeit this.

His breath was too harsh, but everything seemed distant and unreal, like the world was spinning beneath him. Sick with horror, he closed the box and tucked it away, his throat dry and burning, and immediately turned and left to begin searching for some way into administration. If he could figure out how to kill the principal, none of this would matter.]

[keyringwitness]

[Three locks of hair fall out of the envelope that Yasu opens. One short and crimson, one wavy and blond, and one neat and black. She stares at them for a moment, dumbfounded, before frantically shaking out the rest of the envelope, panic rising to her face. It's of three children (or, well, two children and one teenager) chatting on the beach, and a faded paperback copy of John Dickson Carr's Nine Wrong Answers lands beside it as well.

Yasu stares at each of the items, momentarily dumbfounded. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to react? The bleeding that had finally been staunched in the scant few days since Saturday begins flowing once more, and Yasu, shaking, scoops up all the personal effects and begins retreating out of the cafeteria, tears streaming down her face.]

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

[Dylan's mentioned his family a number of times while stuck in this school. So perhaps it's not surprising when his box is opened and one of the first things to accidentally flutter out is something black and white-fur, that floats gently to the floor.

Then there's the skateboard that's also brought out of the package-definitely big enough for him to get on, and probably big enough for someone larger to be able to use it.

As for the folder? He's looking at it, holding it close enough that only he should be able to see the photos. And after the last day, it's hard to say if his shock still has a hold on him, or if he's filled with a new horror.

That's life in murder school for you, I suppose.]

[holyironmade]

[Jeanne has almost no reaction when she hears this. She holds the note in her hand as if the most important task at hand is making sure that the spoken words match the printed words. She told Yuta: She expected this. Even when she opens the box, its contents might be possible to anticipate. The piece of fabric is white. The silhouette in the photograph seems to be wearing white. What do her fellow X-Laws wear? White. But then her fingertips grasp something. It's a narrow enough grip to probably be human hair. She looks down to verify something. Then she carefully wraps the entire package again. When Jeanne rises... her brow does not smooth out in the ladylike way she favors.]

Death penalty. Death penalty. Death penalty.

[She mutters it to herself in as many languages as she knows how.]

[spychic]

[Anya looks down at the photo of her parents. She looks at it silently - frightened - and she holds it closer to her chest. She holds a dolphin plushie in her other hand, frowning quietly.]

....

[She falls onto her knees.]

[temmapathy]

[Emma's box contains a lock of short brown hair, as well as a photo of a boy a few years older than her sitting on the beach. She looks stunned, before reaching in to also find a handheld game player. Slapping the lid back on the box, she clutches it to her chest, looking around for a while before hurrying out of the room.]

[romancing]

[ Koishi twiddles a lock of purple hair around her thumb. ]

Ah, you were spying on neesan. Scary, scary~.

[britbrat]

[ Valmont scoffs, seeming utterly unimpressed by the Principal's announcement. ]

Please. You've already cut me off from all my wealth and possessions. What else could you possibly do to anything I "hold dear"?

[ But his face grows slightly paler as he flips through the folder, and he stares a little too hard at the contents of the parcel before shoving it in his bag. ]

[copycut]

[ Kuro's fingers tighten at the edges of the folder, but the thought of dread never enters her mind. Instead, she wrenches it open, without hesitation. Instead, delicately, she winds a thin black cord around her fingers—something the same style and width as the charm bracelet worn around her own wrist.

A sharp, harsh breath hisses between her teeth, and then she snaps the folder shut in her hands. Without a word—indignation toward her fellow students, rage toward the Principal—she storms out. ]

[shinedsobright]

[At least Fret is a little more composed this week.

Which is an extremely low bar, mind. He's still groaning as he looks at the photos after hearing the speech.]

Ooh, I kNoW wHaT yOu HoLd DeAr~ This isn't news, my guy!! You literally put it on my profile.

[What drops out of the package and clatters onto the ground is the unique player pin though, and that. That definitely shakes him a bit, seeing it on the ground there like a random loot drop. There's some symbolic implications here that immediately wipe the smirk off his face, and a hot minute passes before he brings himself to scoop the trinket up.]

[hashtagwoof]

[ Hunter was so sure this motive would backfire on him. After all, his greatest enemy is also his closest relative he knows about. No skin off his back if something terrible happens to her... Right...?

Then he opens the box.

There's claw trimmings. And cat food. And images of a hairless cat. ]

CUDDLES?! H-How did they--?!

[ Oh no, he almost forgot about his cat... ]

MEETING

[holyironmade]

Beethoven's third practice session!

[What on earth is this note your character just received...? There's some kind of construction paper and calligraphy going on... Well, it will be easy enough to find out that Jeanne had consulted with Yuta and conceded to the music room concept on the condition that they communicate the idea in some kind of code to reduce the scrutiny A-friend would face from the administration. You will find her standing imperiously by the conductor's stand. She did not bring snacks. Instead she brings a speech.]

When we find the principal, we will kill him. Speak now if you have any pleas for mercy or proposals to time our attack most wisely. I believe we should also take into account the fact that Reika's executioner brainwashed her. Though she was unarmed and likely to be defeated regardless, that creature clearly stupefied Reika in some way.

Last week, we promised each other that we would wait for the painful fight that was coming to our group. I believe that this week is no different. None of us, not even Reika as she wrote, could live with the idea of our loved ones knowing our sins.

That said, there is reason to have hope. Late Sunday night, Adorabat, Dewey, Dylan, and myself were drawn into a terrifying encounter. We were quite shaken; please forgive us for tarrying in sharing. [She says completely unshaken.] There was a bloodlike entity that gave us a vision stored in this piece of hair. [Feel free to take it from Jeanne!] There was discussion of copies. It would explain a great deal if, for example, we are being threatened with copied hostages, or if our enemies sent us here so we could be replaced with compliant copies. The experience was threatening enough that I doubt our captor meant for us to learn this.

[violence_ensues]

No. We don't kill anyone. The prissipal will be arrested and I will arrest anyone who kills him.

[Now that that's out of the way and everyone's huddled all together...]

This is a just in case, but if you find any evidence in the future, just use these bags to pick 'em up.

[Adorabat will be handing out ziplock bags amongst people.]

[temmapathy]

He'd have to copy the scenery, too, for those photos.

[She holds out the photo, her hand covering the figure in it-but the image is one of a beach by an oddly bright blue sea-and palm trees with vivid purple leaves.]

~Mysteries~

[canreallymove]

...Wait, you guys too had a weird thing?





Actually, that explains a lot, never mind.

[britbrat]

Well, if we're discussing strange blood-related incidents...

[ He wasn't going to bring up something that happened to him last week, because he's not a weenie, but maybe there's a connection. That's the only reason. He's not a weenie. Don't put in the newspaper that he's a weenie. ]

[cellpreservation]

[Okay well. He goes ahead and touches the wig clipping dubiously, only to get zapped with that vision.

???

?!?!!

...Uh, moving on.]

Reika handed me that note before she... well, you know. There's no way she could have known the Prefect would have ended up unavailable afterwards, unfortunately.

As for, uh... that. [Gesturing at the wig bit.] Is it just me, or does it feel like whoever was watching just felt jealous that they weren't included?

cw brief emeto mention

[curdle]

[ Thomasin may not be as not as on edge as she was this time last week, despite her surprise at lunch, but after the motive, a shadow's been cast over the whole school, and it will not be easily lifted. In the evening, after the group meeting and a quiet supper in the cafeteria, she decides to finally redeem her coins at the vending machine. She's not certain, really, why it took her so long in the first place.

A great assortment of stuff materializes around her over the next few minutes, all of it baffling. She only barely catches the egg in time for it not to splat on the school store floor, and nervously sets it on a counter while she continues feeding red coins into the slot. If anyone comes in after the turtle comes out, she gives them an awkward look before clarifying: ]

'Tis not Valmont's.

[ Which sounds like something someone who stole Valmont's turtle would say, but you know what, it's fine! Finally, after yelping and jumping back as an arrow narrowly misses her, she's down to two coins. She puts one in, and for a moment it seems that the blood they spoke of at meeting has begun pouring from the neon facade of the vending machine. The reality is something worse. A filthy cloak, the color of fresh blood, lies on the floor. Thomasin has never seen the garment before, and yet she is certain she knows whose it is. Mercy's shrill voice comes to her as her hands tremble and her heart races.

A witch! I've seen her in her riding-cloak, about the wood. ]

No, no...

[ But words cannot take back the knowledge. She can smell the forest on it, and the woodsmoke and grease of daily life in the crudely-hewn world she once inhabited. There are stains on it she cannot think upon, lest she retch here and now. She doesn't want to touch it, but she must, to get it out of here before anyone sees—

Without thinking about it, one of her shaking hands puts the final coin in. Anyone who comes in for, like, the next five minutes will see Thomasin sitting on the floor, her shoulders shaking as she presses her face into the soft coat of a jumbo special big boy.

After composing herself again (and putting on the sunglasses), she takes most of her haul back to her room! And after that, she folds the cloak up and carries it, held in her arms like the sick inverse of a swaddled infant, to the workshop, where she throws that shit straight into the kiln. She, uh... doesn't know how to turn it on, though... a little help.......... ]