rubycity_ooc | September Test Drive!

Thinking of apping a character but not sure they'll fit in the city walls?

Have no fear, a meme for you is here.

Directions:

Post with your character with their name and canon on top!

Choose a location and prompt or wait for someone else to tag.

If you'd like, leave contact info for people to get in contact for plotting and other such shenans.

Tag around! Make friends. Don't be afraid to chat OOC while tagging.

Locations:

1. Train Station: New arrival, or waiting to welcome people? Either way, the train comes in, but you still can't ride it out.

2. Cathedral: Looking for redemption? Just doing a little sight-seeing? Or just getting a little shelter?

3. The Beach: You can almost forget you're trapped, in a place like this...

4. The Black Stallion Saloon: You were told the burgers were great here-- but maybe you just came for the beer.

5. The Library: You came to do a little research, but it looks like all of the information's just out of your reach. Though, you can always find a way to pass the time here.

6. The Coffee Joint: A lovely place to have a chat and a bite to eat.

7. The Forest: Not a great place to be caught alone, but are you alone?

8. Wildcard: Pick anything from our list!

Scenarios

1. Just walked in: You intended to get here, and you made your way in; but now someone's caught your eye and you'd like to have a chat.

2. Been here all day: You've been sitting around minding the time. Maybe you didn't notice them at first or maybe you were just working up the courage to talk-- either way, they know you're here and you know it too.

3. Bad weather: You're here because you've gotten rained in. This wasn't your choice, but at least it's dry-- right?

4. Wild card: Got something better in mind? Well screw these prompts, try it out yourself!

Have fun, guys!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This time she did stiffen. Just a little, because she was barely functioning, but it was enough. She nodded again, resigned-- she'd been asked and she would answer. What did she have to lose, really?

"Class 78," she recited, numbly. "Yes." Yes, they'd been her classmates, the ones she'd never bothered to get to know, because they were all too intimidated by her anyway, and she was too entwined in Junko to care, and they'd all forgotten her anyway and now none of it mattered. Nothing mattered. "You were..." She paused, unsure if she ought to even ask. "You were... older, weren't you?"

"...Aah. I should've been in Class 76..."

And it had already been more or less set that his sister would be joining Class 77--No. She had been in Class 77, and she'd been murdered right there by her classmates. He tightened his interlaced hands until the fingers turned white.

"If you knew me, then that just proves that everything they told us was true. Damn it..."

She listened, brows flicking up in mild curiosity-- she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him, despite how little it probably mattered in the end. "So... you really don't remember." It wasn't really a question, he clearly didn't know her any more, but why? Had Junko tampered with them, too? Why would she do that? And when? She couldn't have done it any time after the game had begun, unless--

She swallowed, taking another long breath to steady herself. Unless it had somehow happened after her death.

"Yeah. Anything that happened from my first day at Hope's Peak on...it's gone. At least until I can get back there and find out what happened for myself."

Or, well, more like: at least until he could get back there and suddenly not have all his memories erased and also probably go back to being a supervillain, and most likely get his ass executed by the Future Foundation. But whatever.

"The only thing this me's gonna remember...is the Field Trip of Mutual Killing."

How very strange. It was just like her classmates, exactly the same sort of theft-- though the Field Trip, that was wrong. The game she'd played had been the School Life of Mutual Killing, her sister's pet project-- was it maybe some kind of... other universe? She'd never been much of a sci-fi buff, but she couldn't think of any other explanation for this whole ordeal.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled again, after a long moment. It seemed like the thing to say-- it was easily her most-used phrase. If she wasn't so much of a coward she could have volunteered more about his memories. But... he seemed... so much more stable, now, not to mention guilt-ridden. She didn't want to burden him. That would be her excuse.

He gave her kind of a funny look.

"Not like it's your fault."

Yeah. He totally didn't remember her. But if she was familiar with the term, he at least wouldn't have to explain. He gestured with one hand as if to wipe the subject off the table.

"Tch. That's fucking over with now, anyway. And I think it's over for your class, too. If what I heard during our last trial's true, anyway."

She looked up at that, wide-eyed and uncomprehending for a moment. "It-- it is?" Over? How? What had happened? She should've thought about that, obviously, she should've known the game would continue without her, of course it wouldn't stop just because she'd died.

It took her a moment to ask, forcing the question out, dreading the outcome either way-- "Who won?"

"Uh, us, I guess. Well, not us-us."

He rubbed a hand over the bristles of his hair. His carefully-shaved stripes were almost entirely grown in, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it by himself. He didn't have eyes in the back of his head. Hell, he didn't even have eyes, plural.

"Your group must've won out against that woman on the outside, since a couple of 'em barged in at the end to help us out. And then, with ours...we didn't let her get what she wanted, anyway."

He looked solemn at that. They'd basically wiped themselves out, and for what?

"Dunno if you could say we won, but at least we didn't lose."

...

She...

She should have known.

She should have known. She should have known when it happened, should have felt it deep in her bones, they were twins, she loved her she should have known and she should have known it would end like this because how else could it ever have possibly ended, how else could Junko's games ever end, she was always playing with fire and laughing at the idea of being burned because she'd welcome it and she should have known and stopped it before it got to this, she should have known Junko was going to kill her, she was always going to be the death of her and she should have known it would all be pointless it was always going to be pointless--

"Oh," she finally managed, weak and rasping, expression outwardly unchanged except for how completely dead her eyes had gone. She felt like she was suffocating. This room was too small, too bright, she-- she staggered to her feet, trembling almost imperceptibly, face a mask of calm. "I'm-- I'm sorry, I-- should-- look around." It was a terrible excuse, but at least her voice didn't shake when she said it, just came out haltingly and flat and absolutely drenched in apathy.

Well, that was a weird reaction. Or maybe not. He'd accompanied his old man on difficult jobs from time time. He remembered the way some people clung to the very shit that was killing them, to the assholes that ruined them, to the only world they'd ever known. He'd never admitted it, but seeing that had always made his insides queasy; knowing his family benefited from their dependence on whatever it was that fucked them up just made him feel shittier. But that was just how it was, and how it was going to be. That blankness, that was something he had to get used to.

(No, it was still weird.)

But he just stood as well, unable to put his finger on what exactly was wrong with the girl. "If you're sure," he said, trying to find some kind of clue in her bearing, but coming up empty. "Just--this is House 8, all right? If you run into any trouble, you can come back here."

She nodded vacantly even as part of her brain caught and filed away the address. Even though she'd never impose on him, even though she doubted she'd ever be in trouble that she couldn't handle (or that she didn't deserve to suffer through), she'd remember. "Thank you," she added after a pause, dragging it out of herself even through the haze-- for talking to her, for letting her in, for letting her go without questions. She couldn't handle questions, she couldn't explain, if she wasn't able to get out she was more than likely to throw herself out a window instead.

She slipped away, movements stilted and mechanical, sure that she would probably never speak to him again. He had his life to lead, now, after all.

September Test Drive!

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