"Morning, hunny! Time for a new year of school!"
Nyg . . nm . . next year . .
"Darling! You...
Nyg . . nm . . next year . .
"Darling! You...
Drowned in Honey: Transfer School Girl Quest!
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Statistics (28 threadmarks, 69k words)
User Total Guiding Bolt 28 -
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Opening -- 0.00
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
"Morning, hunny! Time for a new year of school!"
Nyg . . nm . . next year . .
"Darling! You wouldn't want to be late for a new yeaaar of school!"
Mm . . ahmm . . this tastes funny . . .
"Young missy! You do not want me to have to come up there and wake you up again! I thought I told you to get that nasty sleep schedule of yours under control!"
Hmnn . . pepmm . . hair in mouth . . .
"Alright! That's it! I'm coming up there, missy, and you'd have better have a good reason for all of this nonsense when I wake you up!" Door-slam. Rattle. Rattle.
Eughhh . . face-in-leather . . is it storming ? . .
Door opening. Gasp. Exaggerated and audible second gasp.
I open my eyes, but I'm just staring into the leather of my sofa and the clumps of my hair between me and my sofa. There's a hand on my shoulder, rolling me over, and I just roll with it.
Momma looks like she's seen a ghost. I wince. There's rings under her eyes that I haven't seen since the first weeks after Dad left. But it's her overall paleness that gets to me. Did I really look that bad--ow! She jabs me with a hot and wet hand towel, putting it over my forehead. I try to turn away, but her grip has turned to steel! . . ! I'm trapped here while she jabs me with this wet towel!
Jab! "Mom!" There's a moment's reprive. Has she decided to let me go. . ?
Jab! "Momma!" No! It was just a false sense of security--wait. She's stopping. Maybe I can--jabjabjabjab . .
. . jabjabjabjabjabjab--"Momma!"--jabjabjabjabjab. Her wet towel assault is too much! My defenses are failing! Nnygh . . this indignified attack on my character . . this won't stand! Hands away from head! No more defense!
While she--jabjabjabjabjab--barrages my face, I roll my shoulders. Hand back. Pillow I kicked down the bed in hand. Yes! Weapon acquired. Endure the jabs and pfwoosh--I swing the pillow! My deliverance is secured! I can't see with the wet towel jabbing into my face, but--the jabs stopped! Yes! I did it! I can see again! I open my eyes and see Momma collapsing to the floor, wet towel in hand and a giggle on her lips. I can't help but smile at the sight too.
Momma is such a weird woman. I mean, we all knew that already, but just staring at her with "southern comfort" golden locks and her faux school girl outfit--honestly, looked like she was the one going to a new school today, not me--and that aged prankster smirk that was always on her face. Well, almost always. Right now, all I could see of her face was rows of rows of dimples and the freckles that God gave her. She was starting to get back up, now, and I guess I was starting to stand up now.
I could lord my victory over her later. First I had to get to sleep. . . er, school. School school school. New year, new school, new me, right? Not just new me. I should be a better me, right? That starts at home. I won't be lording this victory over Momma. She's opening her mouth to say something that's probably dumb, feelsy and way too sweet, so I hop forward from my sofa and glomp onto her. That shocked gasp that left her is all I wanted.
Yes,, ! I have done it. I have bested my Momma. I am the sweetest daughter in the world. For sure. Wait. Why is her hand in my hair? Why is she brushing out my curls with her warm fingers? No! She's going to be sweet again!
"Momm," I manage out, opening my eyes again and looking at her. Oh no. Is that a tear in her eye? I can't compete with that . . oh no . . she's going to say something really sweet now . .
It's coming . . any second now . . eyes closed for impact, brace yourselves soldiers . . . . . . eh? I open my eyes. She's just beaming me with her eyes and that goofy grin of hers. Did she break? I open my mouth to ask what's up and she strikes! She leans forward! I'm locked in her grip! She--she--she kisses my forehead! Ack!
Then she lets me go. This is new. I haven't seen this sweetness protocol before. She's messing with the whole script and I don't know if I can handle these sort of switchups. I steal a glance at her again and she's still just beaming me with those eyes and that goofy grin. Eugh . . Momma is such a weirdo . .
"You should get ready for school, hun. I'll have breakfast ready when you're out of the shower, okay?"
I'd protest, but I . . do probably need a shower. It's been a hot minute since I took my last one. I smile, throw my hair back to get it out of my eyes, and head off to a shower. From there, breakfast--school--more sleep after school--no. From there, the world awaits!
[ ] Choose your name!
You're an American immigrant to wherever it is you are, and after your Dad . . left . . you took on your Momma's last name. Irvine -- pronounced IR-vin, and you're not looking forward to having to explain that to everybody you meet.
[ ] Choose your Academic focus!
Are you a math wiz? Do you want to start a literature club? Does history just get you? Will you make the world a better place for science!? Or maybe you don't have an Academic focus. It's okay too! Some people just want to focus on the party. Or maybe you just want to focus on some cute boys--that's okay too!
[ ] What's your favorite thing about yourself?
Do you have a cool and unusual talent? Can you do magic tricks? Are you a code monkey bestowed with TV-show hacking skills? Do you have some unnatural beauty? Is your hair truly divine in nature? Whatever it is that makes you happy to be who you are, here's where to put it.
[ ] What's the name of your best friend from back home?
He/she means a lot to you, and you mean a lot to them. For a lot of your life growing up in the rural south, the only thing you two had was eachother. Moving away like you did . . sometimes you think it would've been more humane just to kill them.
Nyg . . nm . . next year . .
"Darling! You wouldn't want to be late for a new yeaaar of school!"
Mm . . ahmm . . this tastes funny . . .
"Young missy! You do not want me to have to come up there and wake you up again! I thought I told you to get that nasty sleep schedule of yours under control!"
Hmnn . . pepmm . . hair in mouth . . .
"Alright! That's it! I'm coming up there, missy, and you'd have better have a good reason for all of this nonsense when I wake you up!" Door-slam. Rattle. Rattle.
Eughhh . . face-in-leather . . is it storming ? . .
Door opening. Gasp. Exaggerated and audible second gasp.
I open my eyes, but I'm just staring into the leather of my sofa and the clumps of my hair between me and my sofa. There's a hand on my shoulder, rolling me over, and I just roll with it.
Momma looks like she's seen a ghost. I wince. There's rings under her eyes that I haven't seen since the first weeks after Dad left. But it's her overall paleness that gets to me. Did I really look that bad--ow! She jabs me with a hot and wet hand towel, putting it over my forehead. I try to turn away, but her grip has turned to steel! . . ! I'm trapped here while she jabs me with this wet towel!
Jab! "Mom!" There's a moment's reprive. Has she decided to let me go. . ?
Jab! "Momma!" No! It was just a false sense of security--wait. She's stopping. Maybe I can--jabjabjabjab . .
. . jabjabjabjabjabjab--"Momma!"--jabjabjabjabjab. Her wet towel assault is too much! My defenses are failing! Nnygh . . this indignified attack on my character . . this won't stand! Hands away from head! No more defense!
While she--jabjabjabjabjab--barrages my face, I roll my shoulders. Hand back. Pillow I kicked down the bed in hand. Yes! Weapon acquired. Endure the jabs and pfwoosh--I swing the pillow! My deliverance is secured! I can't see with the wet towel jabbing into my face, but--the jabs stopped! Yes! I did it! I can see again! I open my eyes and see Momma collapsing to the floor, wet towel in hand and a giggle on her lips. I can't help but smile at the sight too.
Momma is such a weird woman. I mean, we all knew that already, but just staring at her with "southern comfort" golden locks and her faux school girl outfit--honestly, looked like she was the one going to a new school today, not me--and that aged prankster smirk that was always on her face. Well, almost always. Right now, all I could see of her face was rows of rows of dimples and the freckles that God gave her. She was starting to get back up, now, and I guess I was starting to stand up now.
I could lord my victory over her later. First I had to get to sleep. . . er, school. School school school. New year, new school, new me, right? Not just new me. I should be a better me, right? That starts at home. I won't be lording this victory over Momma. She's opening her mouth to say something that's probably dumb, feelsy and way too sweet, so I hop forward from my sofa and glomp onto her. That shocked gasp that left her is all I wanted.
Yes,, ! I have done it. I have bested my Momma. I am the sweetest daughter in the world. For sure. Wait. Why is her hand in my hair? Why is she brushing out my curls with her warm fingers? No! She's going to be sweet again!
"Momm," I manage out, opening my eyes again and looking at her. Oh no. Is that a tear in her eye? I can't compete with that . . oh no . . she's going to say something really sweet now . .
It's coming . . any second now . . eyes closed for impact, brace yourselves soldiers . . . . . . eh? I open my eyes. She's just beaming me with her eyes and that goofy grin of hers. Did she break? I open my mouth to ask what's up and she strikes! She leans forward! I'm locked in her grip! She--she--she kisses my forehead! Ack!
Then she lets me go. This is new. I haven't seen this sweetness protocol before. She's messing with the whole script and I don't know if I can handle these sort of switchups. I steal a glance at her again and she's still just beaming me with those eyes and that goofy grin. Eugh . . Momma is such a weirdo . .
"You should get ready for school, hun. I'll have breakfast ready when you're out of the shower, okay?"
I'd protest, but I . . do probably need a shower. It's been a hot minute since I took my last one. I smile, throw my hair back to get it out of my eyes, and head off to a shower. From there, breakfast--school--more sleep after school--no. From there, the world awaits!
==================
Today's vote!
[ ] Choose your name!
You're an American immigrant to wherever it is you are, and after your Dad . . left . . you took on your Momma's last name. Irvine -- pronounced IR-vin, and you're not looking forward to having to explain that to everybody you meet.
[ ] Choose your Academic focus!
Are you a math wiz? Do you want to start a literature club? Does history just get you? Will you make the world a better place for science!? Or maybe you don't have an Academic focus. It's okay too! Some people just want to focus on the party. Or maybe you just want to focus on some cute boys--that's okay too!
[ ] What's your favorite thing about yourself?
Do you have a cool and unusual talent? Can you do magic tricks? Are you a code monkey bestowed with TV-show hacking skills? Do you have some unnatural beauty? Is your hair truly divine in nature? Whatever it is that makes you happy to be who you are, here's where to put it.
[ ] What's the name of your best friend from back home?
He/she means a lot to you, and you mean a lot to them. For a lot of your life growing up in the rural south, the only thing you two had was eachother. Moving away like you did . . sometimes you think it would've been more humane just to kill them.
==================
Updates should be fairly regular for the next couple of weeks. Once I'm back in college, I'm unsure how the update schedule will go and there may be a short break while I get back into the swing of things, but I should get back to some consistency fairly quick after that. Will try for shorter updates and more frequent updates this time, as I think one of the failings of my previous quests was I tried too hard to write in a certain style and it killed my enjoyment. If you have any questions / see any outstanding errors in my writing style / have any suggestions, feel free to PM me! I'm welcoming to any constructive criticism and hoping to improve my writing through practice.
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Character Profile
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
Character Profile:
Name: Nellie "Nell" Irvine
Age: 17
Favorite Subject: Physics
Worst Subject: World History
Appearance:
Social Status: You don't know anybody, and nobody whose anybody knows you. Severe depression and anxiety has crippled your relations for as long as you remember.
Happiness: 40%
Homesickness: 35%
Jinn: The storm inside you has calmed, and you can feel yourself within it, moving to your will. Outside, it still rages, completely and utterly uncontrollable.
Magic (A): You're forced to admit that magic does in fact exist, and with recent events in mind, you should be able to use some of it. As of yet, you have had no luck.
Name: Nellie "Nell" Irvine
Age: 17
Favorite Subject: Physics
Worst Subject: World History
Appearance:
Social Status: You don't know anybody, and nobody whose anybody knows you. Severe depression and anxiety has crippled your relations for as long as you remember.
Happiness: 40%
Homesickness: 35%
Jinn: The storm inside you has calmed, and you can feel yourself within it, moving to your will. Outside, it still rages, completely and utterly uncontrollable.
Magic (A): You're forced to admit that magic does in fact exist, and with recent events in mind, you should be able to use some of it. As of yet, you have had no luck.
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Important NPCs
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
NPC Profiles:
Having finished the prologue, NPC profiles will now only be updated at the end of each chapter.
I would recommend against reading this until you are at least somewhat up to date.
Americans
Japanese Teachers
Japanese Students
Supernatural
Having finished the prologue, NPC profiles will now only be updated at the end of each chapter.
I would recommend against reading this until you are at least somewhat up to date.
Americans
Name: Lucille Irvine (formerly Lucille Thompson)
Age: 36
Occupation: Secretary for Saito & Kushner Law
Appearance: A short, blonde woman with curly southern hair and a thick southern accent. She has soft green eyes and rows of freckles. At home, she usually wears sundresses or nightgowns; at work, she tends to wear more formal, but still somwhat floral, dresses.
Ever since Dad left, she's been a lot happier of a woman. Though sometimes she still falls into ruts and picks up a bottle, for the most part she's completely gotten over her drinking. It's always worried you a little when you find her in the middle of the night watching cooking shows, but that's just Momma being who she is. And it's good that she's safe to be who she is again.
Age: 36
Occupation: Secretary for Saito & Kushner Law
Appearance: A short, blonde woman with curly southern hair and a thick southern accent. She has soft green eyes and rows of freckles. At home, she usually wears sundresses or nightgowns; at work, she tends to wear more formal, but still somwhat floral, dresses.
Ever since Dad left, she's been a lot happier of a woman. Though sometimes she still falls into ruts and picks up a bottle, for the most part she's completely gotten over her drinking. It's always worried you a little when you find her in the middle of the night watching cooking shows, but that's just Momma being who she is. And it's good that she's safe to be who she is again.
Name: Mr. Thompson
Age: 44
Favorite Activities: Political Debate and ̸̡̨̡̨̨̨̡̧̡̡̧̧̡̨̧̨̢̡̡̧̨̛͙̹͙̲̯̻͔̦̤̫̪̟̩̝͉̙̺̫͚͚̱̦̥̩̼̹͔̞͍͎̦̼̗̠̭̹͚̥͙̟̜͍̲͚̙̝̭̟̘̰̪͎̲̣̩̖̠͖͈̝̟̩͖͓͖̲̙͙̞̹̦͈͍͚̱̳̻̩͙͉̼͍͈̺͉̖̞̲̟͉̦̪̹͓͔̘̮̫̗͇͙͖̟̜̮̥̯̫͉͇̖͖͖̤͎̦͉̳̩͍͓͔̬̰̜̺͇̜̮̦̥̠̫͕͚̗̤͇̦̦̤͍̮͈̥͎͖̩̤͈͓̩̦̼̻͍͙̦̫̞̞̮͚͎̝̯̖͖̖̘͔̞͎̜́̔́̂̋͗̇̌̈́̉̉̆͑͗̑̋̅̓̎̃̀̌̅͊͒͊͆̿́̀͊̀̑͋̃̿̌̈́̐͑́̈́̄̇̂̈́͆͗͌͗̑͒̂͂͌̄́͛͊̋̎͛̽͂̋̌̄͗̿̌̈̽̃̋̂̎̎̌̊̇̈́̆͐̓͂̓͗́̀͌̿̌͊̅̿̉̒̀̎͑͛̈́̄̓̐̈́̚̕͘̚̚͘̕͘͘͘͜͜͜͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ§̷̨̡̡̨̡̢̧̡̢̡̨̧̛̛̯̮̲̤̠͓̙̼̘̣̬͕̯̝̗͇̪̗̦̟̯͕̣͓̭̞̲̜͇̼̙̬̗̜̹̯̮͔͎̯̣̞̠̜͚͎͕̈́̀͗̉͂̒̔̄̀̍̿͐̾̐̊̍͒̽͗̿̅̽̋̓͊̿͂̎̍̍̈́͐͆̐̈́̌̇̓̏̑̈́͌̎̎͆̈́̏̂̏̇̃̔̑͒͊̒̈́̋̏̉́͗͛̋̇̂͊̋͒͂̎̕̚̚͘͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅ↨̵̡̨̛̜̳̰̘͚̜͔͙̮̺̰͚̬͔̖̼̩͕̖̳̥̲̺̩͙̞͉͔̯̙͎͙̳͖̝͚̱̲̤̤̰̣̙͉̠̤̗̦̻̥̤̲͎̙̤̙̟̝̝̹̖͖̝̬̳̖̭̹̥̻̈́̿͗̀̓̉̅̅̃͑͌́́̈́̃̐̕̕̚͝ͅņ̵̢̡̡̨̡̧̨̡̢̡̛̛̛̼̫͍̟̞͚͇̙̙̪̻̱̞̖̝̥͎̣͈̠̯̻̥͓̬̠͕̩̖̮̤͖͉̬̟̗̣̥͕̮̝̺̤̖̙͇̭̟̖͉̜͖̙͍͕̟̰̪̹̗͎̫͖͙̭̹̲̞͔̯̮̙͓̗̝͈̝͚̪̫̭͓̗͔̪̭̯̱̣̙̮̼̹͙̳̞̟̯͔͙̃̀̔̆̇͛̐̅̆͊̾̏́̓͒͑̌̌̃̍̉͐͐́́̃͒̎̑̑̊́̐̀̌̃̑́̓̿̉̌͗͒́̈́̌͐̇̃̑̈͋̈́̋̈́͐̓̒͗͒̔̈́́̈́͗̅̌͆̌͐̋̓̆͐͒͋̏̃͋̓̇̄̿̔̒͊̊͑̀̒͌̈́̃̅̌̉͑̋͛̽͆̓́͌̉͊̚̚̚̕͘͘̕̕͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͠͠͠͝͝ͅͅÿ̷̧̨̛̛̛̠̟͙͓̙̰̱̥̜̞̗̗̥̬͓̙͇̤̝͔̫̝͉̭̹͇̟̜̳̪̼̩̥͙͚͔̙̮͍̂́̇̀̊̾̇̿͋͛́͂̄͊̍̅̋̏́͒̏́͊̇́̈̎͛̈́̊̀̾͒̋̋̌̓͒͗̏̈́̏̿̏̾̓̒̍̎̄̀̄̋̾͐͗͑̓́͛͌̾͂̓̇̈́̄̅̂͆̏̓͛̿̎̔͂̑̔̽̃̂͊̌̏͑̿̈́̈́̑̌͆̌̅͗̅̋͆̀̎͂̄͆̑͗͐̌̌͌̽̏̔̀̎̉́͊̉̾̊̐͌̃͂̂́̆͐̈́̌̈́͊̑͛͂́̓̋͐̊̎͊͆̏̆̈̆͊̌͗͑̌͗̐̉͌̉̈́͆͑͑͒̾̉̉͊͋̾̑̈́̆͑́͆̈͒̈̆̾̈́̊̋̐̒̍̎͂̆̕͘̕͘̕̕̚͘̕͜͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ╙̷̡̡̢̡̧̡̨̡̨̧̨̛̛̺̖͉͔̗̯͈͕͙̖̗̳͚̝͍̲̥̣̠͕̬̜̝̯͉͉̝̼̩̯̩̣̻̭̱̪̰͉̖͙̝̠̝̖͔̦̺̗͚̖̜̫̯̲̩̭̹̪̣̤̜͉̲̦̲̠̝͚̜̇̊́̀̾̑̈̈̍̑̂̓̏̄̎̈́͐͆̀̌̈́̔̈́̌̍͂̌́̄͊͋̈́̆̽̎̀́̆́̏̔̀̓̒͂̏̈́̏̌̂͗͆͒͛̆̓̀̈́͂̄̾̆̐͛͌̈͒̏͘͜͜͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅ3̴̧̡̨̢̢̧̡̡̨̢̢̘̭̮̥̣̘̗̭̻̤̟̲̣̗̹̲̭̦̱͖̘̜̠͈̹̗̦͖̹̙̰̗͚̰̪̬̦̠͙̩̫͇̼̤̯̖̝͓͈̹̜̙̮̠̲͚̫̤͍̮͉̗̤̫̟̭̖̹̙̫̖̪͉̝̩͚͚̲̬͎͓̼͙̼̟͈͙̠̪̘͓̙͓̦̩͎͍̪͙̟̦͙̳̞̗̎̅͋̉̊́̐͌͐̋́̄̉̄̈̌͊̔̐̆̂̌̈̅̓͆̇̂́̅̽̃͑̊͆̏͊̀̃̆̂̀̈́̋̈́̿͐͊́̿̈́̐͗̐̿̃͂̐̎̅̿̈́̋̈́͗̈́̌̓̀̇̐͛͆̃́̑̏͗͂͗̑̒͊́̒͛̄̅͗̓̚̕͘̚̚͜͜͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅŅ̴̨̧̡̢̧̢̧̢̧̨̧̡̡̡̢̧̙̳̯̦̬̟͍̬̗͓̱͖̹͖̣̤̭̠͚͈͚͖̱̯̭̟̦̦̥͈̞̯͓̱͈̩̙̤̩̦͚̞̣̟̳͖͚̙͈͈͔̗̹̼̟̗̗͍̫̼̦̪̞̯̦͉̬̜̫͓̣͉̩̩̠̰͍̰̪̬̤̭͙̺̩̯̲̤͈̯̲̯̼͍̗͉̥̟̤͉̺̠̹̙̯̟͚͖͖̞͔̼̠̯̱̩͖̗̖̼̯̪̩͇̝̭̞̭̝̦̞͇̪̺̱̞̥̹̳̜͕̜̥̬̬̃̿̓̈̇͆͜͜͜͜͜ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ¶̵̨̧̢̢̨̨̡̡̨̡̧̡̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛͓̳͙̠̳͈̜̦͕͙͚̮̱̠̘͇̰̬̰̱͉͇̙̖͔̞̠͓̬͎̯̘̪͔̙̘̝̝̻̜̘̥̦̳̝͔̳̳̙͔̘̻̮̱̖̝̳̼͎͔̟̼͔͇̬̪̰̼̰͖̦̦̭̜͓͖̟͙̩͖̭̮̺̻͉̞̥̬͔͙̪̝̺̟̠̼͈̠̟̜̱͈̣͓̲̣͕̠̜̘̹̤̟͇͓̮͎̬̞̥̙̫̗̣͈̬̱̗͓͙̫̪͍̺̪̘̱̤͔̭͔̝̭͎͇̺̮̜̮͙̦̖̘͇̣̺̺̩̰̫͎̪̫̞̖̇̽̽̓̂̓̀̈͂̂̎̎̊̔̐̀͒̑̾́̿͊̑̓̍͆̽́̅́̀͂͐̏̈́̐̿̔̀͑͑̃̈́́̈́̂̿̾͂̌̎̍̿͋̒͗͗̂̈͆͊̋̓͊̋͂̄̓̂͆͌̔̒̒̂̏̋̍̉͒̃̓̍̃͑͛͑͂͐̈́͗̈͌̑̇́̅̑͗͑̿̓̓͆̂̏̽͑̿͊͆̎̅͐́͑̀͑̾̑͋͒͆̇̂̋́̏͂͛́͌̉̅̎̈́͂͊̽̚͘͘͘̚͘̚̕̕̚͘̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅ
Occupation: Lawyer for 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Appearance: e̶̤̺̤̬̫̲̤̮̤̞̠̘͖͐̀̃̂̆̈̏͜͝͝ͅř̴̘̦̗̹̥͔̟̞͑̔̑̅͆̚͘͜r̴̅͆͒̋͛͂͜ơ̸̯̙͖̮̮̯͉̗͍͚͂͌̌̓̐̀͒́̌̓͆̕̕͜͜ȑ̷̡̮̃͑̌̇̾̀͠
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͚͓͍̲̰͈̗̫͇̳͙̜̯͉͙̖̠͎̼̥̰̦̤̣͖̠̭̈̈́̔̑̉̓̍͆̾̓͌̿̔̐̔͐̔̇̉̍̃̔̌̄̌́̎̏͗̉̉̄̾̿̋̏̀̀̓̽̇̓̈̒͆̈́͋͊̽̀̉̽̐́͌̒̏̌̈́̒̔̉̽͛̔̔͑̅̊͆̈́͐̿̃̽̑͑̿̇̌̊́͌̊́̎̐̊̿̎͘̚͘̚͜͜͜͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͠ͅ╙̵̢̛͈̜͕̥͚͎̺̜̠̺̞͍̹̱̃̀̎͊̾̇̃̑̒̉͂̀̇̆̂́̔̃͆̂̆̀̋͊͌͑̏͐̿̑̂́̀̈́̃̅́͆͂́̀̅͛̀̌͌̌͆̀̀̀̈́͛̔̏̄͂͑͊̍͗͘̚͘͘͝͝͝͝͝͠͠ỳ̸̛̛̛̛̛͕͕̍͛̈̊̈́́͊̓͋̉̉͆̾̐̌́͗̔̍̆̆́̑̈́̉̄̒̑̽̉͆̈́̒̿͒̓̿̅́̒͗̌͑̍̋̃͌̓̍̈́͐͆̅͋̉͊̽͛̈́͆̋̀̈́̎̄͛̄̅̀̈́͐̈̎̂̉͆͌̌̄̊̊̋̄͐͊̎̈́͗͑́̃͂̽͗̇̒̈̂̽̑̇̇̒͒͒̊̅̈͊͛̌͌̂̐̒̾̈̑̾̃̎̄͋̚̕̚̕̕͘̚̚̕͘͝͝͠͠͠≤̶̨̛͓̭̭̮͕̯̲͎͙͇̫̣̜̙̪̰̳͍͍̹͎̽͌̇̂͗̎͗̎͛̽̄̿̈́͌̀̀̉̃̎͌̃̊̽͐̂͌̓̕̕̕͘͝͝͝͝f̵̧̧̧̨̡̧̨̛̛͚̠̱̯̯̯̮̤͚̟͚͙̪̮̭͇͚̹̰͉̫̯̫̻͔͈̼̮̱͉̻̭͈̮̣̹̬͇̮͉̙̼̞͇͖͇̬͚̤̝̰̤͇̬̺̫̗͚̗͔͔̗̩̪̱͓̹͍͓̬̝̰͈̲͈̝̺͇̺͈̲̟̀̒̾͊̾̊̎̆̍̎̍̎̽̆̋̈́̏͂͌͒̓̈́̾̔́̅̉̀̒͋̔̑͌̏̊́͆́̌̉̉̀͗̽͘̕͝͠͝͝͝y̸̢̨̧̨̢̢̨̡̨̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͔̮̘̬͓͈̟͙͇̲̹̤̝̘̠̺̭͇̺̞̘̝̜͉̻̙͈͙͎̦̗̫̻̩̠̲̯̮̮͈̻̰͕͎̳̞̤̼͎̗͇̻̥̜͍̞̱̞̲̭̦̹̠͙͇͔̳̥̫͚͈̣͉͈̗̣̼̤̻͙̗̱̰̗͇̩̩͖̝͇͎̰̟̺̱̅͆͊̆̃̄͗̌̅̍̔̒̉̃͐̋̄́̇̇̀͆́͐̈́͊͊̈́͊̈́̌̉͂͐̃̽͂̃́̄̀̀̇̈́̉̈͌͋̔̋͒͌́̑̔͒̊̈́̈́̔͛͛̒̐͒̈̎́̀̽̀͐͋̅̊̈́̎̀̾͛͑̆̋̆̒̂̄͊̊̇̀̀̂̆̾̈́̓̄͛̐͗̄̎̍̍̍̌͌̌͐̌̈́̾̇̀̀͂̿͐̏̑̍̑̄͂̊̆́̌͑̽̐͋͐̎̌̚̚͘̕͘͘̕̚͘͘͜͠͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅǫ̸̨̢̛̛̛̳̮̪͇̹̠͚̳̗̫̘͇̰̞̫͖̟͉̬̺͕̫̰̼̹̥̤̠̹͖̱̜̝͈̭̹̥̯̣̩̪̫̝̮̝̩̭̞̪͉̱̗͔͚̼̦͇̳̯͍̥͕̂̓͐̾͛̐͋̄̑̽̄͗̒̆̄̑̾͑̈̓̑̍̒̒̂̓̄́̈̓̔̈́́̓̐̈́̃̎̈͐̏͂̀̓́͊͒͒̎̒̃̀̃̇͑̅͗̌͗͊̂̈́͂̀̀̾̓̈́͂̈͒̆͌̌̓̎̇̈̽͐͛̃̓̓͒̏̑̋̓́͊̿̏͗̀̎̅́̋̍͗̚̕̕̚͘͘͘̚͘̚̚̚̚͝͠͠͝͝͠͝¢̷̡̡̢̧̧̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̖̼̟͓͈͉̯̼̹̰̘̰̤̙̫̭̬̜̰̪̞̹͎̲̬̣̻̪͎̰̟̜̗̥͚͇̖̗̩͈̦̦̠̤̲̫̖̤̤̲͋͒̅̅̀͌̃̄̃̈́͑͛̄́̐̈́̋̑̎̐̒̒̋̀̍̔͐̋̾̊͐̐̿̏͗͂̊̒̓̈́͗̒̈́̐͒̍͒̀̊̎͌͌͒͐̐̈́́̓̄̓̃͒̅͋̿̂̾̎̑̾̃́͆͑̃̈̓̿̊́͊̀̀̆̿͐̀͆̈́͂̇̓͋͐̈́̑͑̐̐̉̈́́͌͆͗̈́̓̎͒̔̄̃̈́͗͆͑̋̈͛͐̈́̐́͊̆̓̎̈̈́̂́̈́̅̓̇̎͐̿͌̇͑͛͐̍̊́̈́̑̈́͒͆̈́̈̓̇̈́̈́̿̑̆̑̂͊͊͋̈́̕͘̕̚̚̚̚̚͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅḉ̷̧̢̢̧̨̨̧̨̨̢̛̛̬͕̺͙̻̞͕͓͉̳̜͍͕͎̺̳͚͍̺̙͉̟̹̰͍͉̲̝͙͓̣̻̺̯͖͖̺̤͚̬̦̻̗̹̟̬͚̙̰̟̮̜͙̖̭̞̠̰͎̪͇̯̮̖̗͓̠͎̹̬̺̬̙̞͎̥͔̱̞͖̞̦̝̜͙̠̰̫̳͔͙͔̣̘̯̣̠̗̬̼͉͖̼͇̟̟̞̣͈̙͖͉̥͚̱̙̼̖̖͇̬̼̲͍͓̰̫̙̠͓̟͈̣̬͖̞͕̝̣̫͓̣͈̭͉͎̺̱͖̱̳͚͉̗̯̻̑̑́̑͗̈́̊̊͛́̎̽̀͊̀͂̽̓̓͊͐̒͗̋̽̑̈́͂̓̽͑͋̍̎̾̑͂̓̌͊̀̐̅̀͋̉̈̈̂́͆̂͗͌̉̎̀́͂̋̍̔̆̉̋́͆̂̊̀̑̾͑̐͊̊̈͐̔̀͂͘͘͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅz̵̨̡̢̢̨̧̡̧̧̛̛̛̛̛̛͓̥̘̣̝͙͖̱̳̹̦̜̪̫̲̹̖̳͓̭͈̦̘͓͚̗̩̦̦̠̬̬͚͎̤̝̖̲̮̤͙͙͓̤̪͓̩̮̖̼̙̪̫͙͖̙̖̹̭̬̞̯̝͍͍͍̠̠̦͎̼͓̦͇̱̥͙̞̠͓̗͉̲̝͇̺͇̲͉̺̞̺̺͔̤͓̠̖͐͌̽̅͑̊̊̄̋̍̔́̾͂͒͌̈́͂̔̐̀̓̆̓͆̀̑̋̈́͆̓̾́̌̈̀͗͋͋̐̾͋́̅̈́̃́̓͋̈́͋͒̽̐͛̈́̌̄͗̃̓̾̾̇̐̇̾̽̉̊͌̌̂̀̂̾̉̍͒̍̐͋̂̐̄̌̌͗͐̂͑̊̂͂̐̓͌̃̾̇̒̇͆̅̄̅̀̐͆̍͒̅͆̌̒̍̆̔̈́̉̾͂͒́̃̾̊́̿̔̀́̂͆̾̐͒̾͗̀̑̀͊͑͛͊͆̅́̏̍̇̚̕̕̕͘̚̕͘̕̕̕͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅớ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢̧̧̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̯̦̩͔̺̻̳͔̬͕̭̱̳̰̳̟̣̲̭̥̥̣͙̠̯̦̗̜͙̺͕͉̤̼̲̝̖͇̲̦͈̼̬̘̣̜̜͎̝͔͎̼̭͔̭̩̳̤̞̜͔͙̪̤͕̲͈͍͇̜̖̩̫͍͕̺̠͖̬͍̭̅́̓̈́̂̒͛̅͊̀́͑͐̇̑̽̐͛͒̒̓̈́͆́̌͑͑̏̅̇͆͛̾͐͋̃͂̌͌̄́̑̍̔͑͊̒͛̀̔͊̂͋̌͆͛̆́̽́͒̿͛̽̑̍͒͆̉̈́̎̃̍̈́̈́̅̉͊̈́̆͆͑̉̽̕̚͘͘̕̚̕̚̕̕̚͜͜͜͠͝͠ͅͅͅ╪̶̢̡̨̡̢̧̢̧̨̢̨̧̡̨̧̡̨̨̨̡̨̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̙̫̬̲̩͓͍̟̮͎͎̬̖̮̰̤̞̹̖̭͉̤̻̺̤̼͔̥̫͔̮̟̳̠͓̼͎̠̩̮͚̫̰͇̥͉̙̘̣̫̫̗͉̞͔̳̤̯̟̜͍̦͔̪̝̺̫͈̝͇̟͍̤̺̱̼̯͇̙̤͉̣̖̹͍̯͚̝͓̪̯̠͍̻͎̠͎̣͚͚̲̤̱̪̬̗̜̘̻̘̗͖̺̣̰̳̠͙̦̲̘̙̟̥̰̭͖͉͎̲͔̜̰̰̣̜̝̱̗̙̯͕̠̲͇͇̟͔͈̗͎̩͔̼̹̙̱̬̭̜͍̬̦̙̯͔͎̥͉̘͈͖̝͈̺̈́̿͊̒́́̍̓̃̈́̐̀̌́͊̓͋̈́̓͒͊̓͛̏̌̈̊̔̆͐́̀͂͂͌̇̓̈́̊̀̈́͗̑̇̾͂̊͐̿̎̂̄̃̑̀̉͌̀̇̈́̃͋̀̊͛̇̿̓̍̔̃͋̒͒̈́͊̈͌̊́͊̽̿̐͐͊̀̋̇̓͊̍̏̃̎̈́͗̆̑͑̄̑̍́̒̏̏͐̒̀̄̌͒͊̒͗͋̔̎̉́̅̑̌̎̉̓̅͛͆́̋̉͑̐̉͘̚̚̚̕͘̕̚̚͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅᾳ̴̢̢̧̡̢̧̡̡̧̧̨̢̧̨̡̧̡̢̧̢̧̨̨̛̛̛̤͖̣̭̞̲̼͇̭̙͓̟̦͎̜̼̹͉̥͍̖̙̥͖͖͎̱̻̯̟͖͎̥͚͙̬͔͙̝̝̪̭̝̫̦͓̯̺͓͇̳͇͓̭̪̖̘̤̺͍͉̭̩͚̣̫̮͚͎̗͉̖̭̞̪͇̻̠̹͕̝͈̤̙̺̖̞͎̦͚͎̣̗̘̯̪̯͇̰̣̲͚̙̹̫̲̭̝̭͎̰͇͔̠̤̦͔̦̲͕͇͔͓̘̙̰͉̙̞̙͈̥͚̥͙͍̥͕̫̫͚̙̪̬̝͕̻͓̫̯̫̰̲̝̤̳̞̜̗̫̱̜͇̖͉̺̖̞̣̟̙̭̬̮̱̖̜̜͖̉̾̅͋̔̆́͑̿̊̈́̇̀̌̄͂̍͊́̿̿̓̾̒̇͋̓̐͑̾̀̂̅͒̒̆͊̓̋̅͂͌́̆̀͌̒̿̈́̄̀̇̽̓̐̒̑̾̾̊͂́̄̇͐͗̌͐̆́̄̈̃̇͗̽́̒͗̌̄́́͂͋̌̉́̾̽̕͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅ₧̴̧̨̧̨̧̨̧̝̪͚̺̥̫̱̝̳̫̻̹̰͍̳͔̖̬̫͇̱̥͚̳̳̜͈̦̦͓͓̰̯̮̭̟̻͂̐̓̿̄͑̃̾̍̐̋̿̄̄̀͆̂͆̈́̉͛͂̽̈́̃͑͐̈́̀͆͆͗͒͆͋̈̒͑͂͗͆̅̽͐̇̊͆̋́̄̍̋͐͑̎͐͒͒̈́̈́͗̓̔̎̋͋͐̽͊͐̓̈́͂͗̂̇̄̊̇͋͊̒͊̌̄̆͑̓̋̐̎̌͒̄́͋̏̌͊͊̿̊̕͘͘̚̕͘͘̚̚͝͝͠͠͠͠≈̶̧̡̨̨̡̧̨̢̨̛̛̦͍͕̗̼̯͔̳̬̞̥̩̻̥̫͚͉͉͕̜͍͓̠̹̻̟̤̹̬̯͓̳̩͉̱̜͓̭͉̩͙̮͍͕̳̣͕̻̘̟͇̤̯͔̝̩̹̬̟̣̝̲̼̳͕̳̖̝͙̱̜̅̒̔̔̽̎̑͐̏̽̆̾̈̀͆͛̋̈́̓̇̔͆͊͂́̓̀̓̃̑̿̊̽͛́̒̅̍̃̽̈̉͐̊̓͐͐̐͌̈́̀̓͒̋̄̎̋̿̓̊̈́̄̉̊̏̾̀́̾̌̏͒͒̔̏͗́̾͛̓́͆̉̉̃́͛̿̍̓͗̿̓̿̑̐̈̃͛̓̏̚͘̚̕̚̕͘̕͝͝͝͠ͅ
Age: 44
Favorite Activities: Political Debate and ̸̡̨̡̨̨̨̡̧̡̡̧̧̡̨̧̨̢̡̡̧̨̛͙̹͙̲̯̻͔̦̤̫̪̟̩̝͉̙̺̫͚͚̱̦̥̩̼̹͔̞͍͎̦̼̗̠̭̹͚̥͙̟̜͍̲͚̙̝̭̟̘̰̪͎̲̣̩̖̠͖͈̝̟̩͖͓͖̲̙͙̞̹̦͈͍͚̱̳̻̩͙͉̼͍͈̺͉̖̞̲̟͉̦̪̹͓͔̘̮̫̗͇͙͖̟̜̮̥̯̫͉͇̖͖͖̤͎̦͉̳̩͍͓͔̬̰̜̺͇̜̮̦̥̠̫͕͚̗̤͇̦̦̤͍̮͈̥͎͖̩̤͈͓̩̦̼̻͍͙̦̫̞̞̮͚͎̝̯̖͖̖̘͔̞͎̜́̔́̂̋͗̇̌̈́̉̉̆͑͗̑̋̅̓̎̃̀̌̅͊͒͊͆̿́̀͊̀̑͋̃̿̌̈́̐͑́̈́̄̇̂̈́͆͗͌͗̑͒̂͂͌̄́͛͊̋̎͛̽͂̋̌̄͗̿̌̈̽̃̋̂̎̎̌̊̇̈́̆͐̓͂̓͗́̀͌̿̌͊̅̿̉̒̀̎͑͛̈́̄̓̐̈́̚̕͘̚̚͘̕͘͘͘͜͜͜͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ§̷̨̡̡̨̡̢̧̡̢̡̨̧̛̛̯̮̲̤̠͓̙̼̘̣̬͕̯̝̗͇̪̗̦̟̯͕̣͓̭̞̲̜͇̼̙̬̗̜̹̯̮͔͎̯̣̞̠̜͚͎͕̈́̀͗̉͂̒̔̄̀̍̿͐̾̐̊̍͒̽͗̿̅̽̋̓͊̿͂̎̍̍̈́͐͆̐̈́̌̇̓̏̑̈́͌̎̎͆̈́̏̂̏̇̃̔̑͒͊̒̈́̋̏̉́͗͛̋̇̂͊̋͒͂̎̕̚̚͘͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅ↨̵̡̨̛̜̳̰̘͚̜͔͙̮̺̰͚̬͔̖̼̩͕̖̳̥̲̺̩͙̞͉͔̯̙͎͙̳͖̝͚̱̲̤̤̰̣̙͉̠̤̗̦̻̥̤̲͎̙̤̙̟̝̝̹̖͖̝̬̳̖̭̹̥̻̈́̿͗̀̓̉̅̅̃͑͌́́̈́̃̐̕̕̚͝ͅņ̵̢̡̡̨̡̧̨̡̢̡̛̛̛̼̫͍̟̞͚͇̙̙̪̻̱̞̖̝̥͎̣͈̠̯̻̥͓̬̠͕̩̖̮̤͖͉̬̟̗̣̥͕̮̝̺̤̖̙͇̭̟̖͉̜͖̙͍͕̟̰̪̹̗͎̫͖͙̭̹̲̞͔̯̮̙͓̗̝͈̝͚̪̫̭͓̗͔̪̭̯̱̣̙̮̼̹͙̳̞̟̯͔͙̃̀̔̆̇͛̐̅̆͊̾̏́̓͒͑̌̌̃̍̉͐͐́́̃͒̎̑̑̊́̐̀̌̃̑́̓̿̉̌͗͒́̈́̌͐̇̃̑̈͋̈́̋̈́͐̓̒͗͒̔̈́́̈́͗̅̌͆̌͐̋̓̆͐͒͋̏̃͋̓̇̄̿̔̒͊̊͑̀̒͌̈́̃̅̌̉͑̋͛̽͆̓́͌̉͊̚̚̚̕͘͘̕̕͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͠͠͠͝͝ͅͅÿ̷̧̨̛̛̛̠̟͙͓̙̰̱̥̜̞̗̗̥̬͓̙͇̤̝͔̫̝͉̭̹͇̟̜̳̪̼̩̥͙͚͔̙̮͍̂́̇̀̊̾̇̿͋͛́͂̄͊̍̅̋̏́͒̏́͊̇́̈̎͛̈́̊̀̾͒̋̋̌̓͒͗̏̈́̏̿̏̾̓̒̍̎̄̀̄̋̾͐͗͑̓́͛͌̾͂̓̇̈́̄̅̂͆̏̓͛̿̎̔͂̑̔̽̃̂͊̌̏͑̿̈́̈́̑̌͆̌̅͗̅̋͆̀̎͂̄͆̑͗͐̌̌͌̽̏̔̀̎̉́͊̉̾̊̐͌̃͂̂́̆͐̈́̌̈́͊̑͛͂́̓̋͐̊̎͊͆̏̆̈̆͊̌͗͑̌͗̐̉͌̉̈́͆͑͑͒̾̉̉͊͋̾̑̈́̆͑́͆̈͒̈̆̾̈́̊̋̐̒̍̎͂̆̕͘̕͘̕̕̚͘̕͜͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ╙̷̡̡̢̡̧̡̨̡̨̧̨̛̛̺̖͉͔̗̯͈͕͙̖̗̳͚̝͍̲̥̣̠͕̬̜̝̯͉͉̝̼̩̯̩̣̻̭̱̪̰͉̖͙̝̠̝̖͔̦̺̗͚̖̜̫̯̲̩̭̹̪̣̤̜͉̲̦̲̠̝͚̜̇̊́̀̾̑̈̈̍̑̂̓̏̄̎̈́͐͆̀̌̈́̔̈́̌̍͂̌́̄͊͋̈́̆̽̎̀́̆́̏̔̀̓̒͂̏̈́̏̌̂͗͆͒͛̆̓̀̈́͂̄̾̆̐͛͌̈͒̏͘͜͜͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅ3̴̧̡̨̢̢̧̡̡̨̢̢̘̭̮̥̣̘̗̭̻̤̟̲̣̗̹̲̭̦̱͖̘̜̠͈̹̗̦͖̹̙̰̗͚̰̪̬̦̠͙̩̫͇̼̤̯̖̝͓͈̹̜̙̮̠̲͚̫̤͍̮͉̗̤̫̟̭̖̹̙̫̖̪͉̝̩͚͚̲̬͎͓̼͙̼̟͈͙̠̪̘͓̙͓̦̩͎͍̪͙̟̦͙̳̞̗̎̅͋̉̊́̐͌͐̋́̄̉̄̈̌͊̔̐̆̂̌̈̅̓͆̇̂́̅̽̃͑̊͆̏͊̀̃̆̂̀̈́̋̈́̿͐͊́̿̈́̐͗̐̿̃͂̐̎̅̿̈́̋̈́͗̈́̌̓̀̇̐͛͆̃́̑̏͗͂͗̑̒͊́̒͛̄̅͗̓̚̕͘̚̚͜͜͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅŅ̴̨̧̡̢̧̢̧̢̧̨̧̡̡̡̢̧̙̳̯̦̬̟͍̬̗͓̱͖̹͖̣̤̭̠͚͈͚͖̱̯̭̟̦̦̥͈̞̯͓̱͈̩̙̤̩̦͚̞̣̟̳͖͚̙͈͈͔̗̹̼̟̗̗͍̫̼̦̪̞̯̦͉̬̜̫͓̣͉̩̩̠̰͍̰̪̬̤̭͙̺̩̯̲̤͈̯̲̯̼͍̗͉̥̟̤͉̺̠̹̙̯̟͚͖͖̞͔̼̠̯̱̩͖̗̖̼̯̪̩͇̝̭̞̭̝̦̞͇̪̺̱̞̥̹̳̜͕̜̥̬̬̃̿̓̈̇͆͜͜͜͜͜ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ¶̵̨̧̢̢̨̨̡̡̨̡̧̡̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛͓̳͙̠̳͈̜̦͕͙͚̮̱̠̘͇̰̬̰̱͉͇̙̖͔̞̠͓̬͎̯̘̪͔̙̘̝̝̻̜̘̥̦̳̝͔̳̳̙͔̘̻̮̱̖̝̳̼͎͔̟̼͔͇̬̪̰̼̰͖̦̦̭̜͓͖̟͙̩͖̭̮̺̻͉̞̥̬͔͙̪̝̺̟̠̼͈̠̟̜̱͈̣͓̲̣͕̠̜̘̹̤̟͇͓̮͎̬̞̥̙̫̗̣͈̬̱̗͓͙̫̪͍̺̪̘̱̤͔̭͔̝̭͎͇̺̮̜̮͙̦̖̘͇̣̺̺̩̰̫͎̪̫̞̖̇̽̽̓̂̓̀̈͂̂̎̎̊̔̐̀͒̑̾́̿͊̑̓̍͆̽́̅́̀͂͐̏̈́̐̿̔̀͑͑̃̈́́̈́̂̿̾͂̌̎̍̿͋̒͗͗̂̈͆͊̋̓͊̋͂̄̓̂͆͌̔̒̒̂̏̋̍̉͒̃̓̍̃͑͛͑͂͐̈́͗̈͌̑̇́̅̑͗͑̿̓̓͆̂̏̽͑̿͊͆̎̅͐́͑̀͑̾̑͋͒͆̇̂̋́̏͂͛́͌̉̅̎̈́͂͊̽̚͘͘͘̚͘̚̕̕̚͘̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅ
Occupation: Lawyer for 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Appearance: e̶̤̺̤̬̫̲̤̮̤̞̠̘͖͐̀̃̂̆̈̏͜͝͝ͅř̴̘̦̗̹̥͔̟̞͑̔̑̅͆̚͘͜r̴̅͆͒̋͛͂͜ơ̸̯̙͖̮̮̯͉̗͍͚͂͌̌̓̐̀͒́̌̓͆̕̕͜͜ȑ̷̡̮̃͑̌̇̾̀͠
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͚͓͍̲̰͈̗̫͇̳͙̜̯͉͙̖̠͎̼̥̰̦̤̣͖̠̭̈̈́̔̑̉̓̍͆̾̓͌̿̔̐̔͐̔̇̉̍̃̔̌̄̌́̎̏͗̉̉̄̾̿̋̏̀̀̓̽̇̓̈̒͆̈́͋͊̽̀̉̽̐́͌̒̏̌̈́̒̔̉̽͛̔̔͑̅̊͆̈́͐̿̃̽̑͑̿̇̌̊́͌̊́̎̐̊̿̎͘̚͘̚͜͜͜͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͠ͅ╙̵̢̛͈̜͕̥͚͎̺̜̠̺̞͍̹̱̃̀̎͊̾̇̃̑̒̉͂̀̇̆̂́̔̃͆̂̆̀̋͊͌͑̏͐̿̑̂́̀̈́̃̅́͆͂́̀̅͛̀̌͌̌͆̀̀̀̈́͛̔̏̄͂͑͊̍͗͘̚͘͘͝͝͝͝͝͠͠ỳ̸̛̛̛̛̛͕͕̍͛̈̊̈́́͊̓͋̉̉͆̾̐̌́͗̔̍̆̆́̑̈́̉̄̒̑̽̉͆̈́̒̿͒̓̿̅́̒͗̌͑̍̋̃͌̓̍̈́͐͆̅͋̉͊̽͛̈́͆̋̀̈́̎̄͛̄̅̀̈́͐̈̎̂̉͆͌̌̄̊̊̋̄͐͊̎̈́͗͑́̃͂̽͗̇̒̈̂̽̑̇̇̒͒͒̊̅̈͊͛̌͌̂̐̒̾̈̑̾̃̎̄͋̚̕̚̕̕͘̚̚̕͘͝͝͠͠͠≤̶̨̛͓̭̭̮͕̯̲͎͙͇̫̣̜̙̪̰̳͍͍̹͎̽͌̇̂͗̎͗̎͛̽̄̿̈́͌̀̀̉̃̎͌̃̊̽͐̂͌̓̕̕̕͘͝͝͝͝f̵̧̧̧̨̡̧̨̛̛͚̠̱̯̯̯̮̤͚̟͚͙̪̮̭͇͚̹̰͉̫̯̫̻͔͈̼̮̱͉̻̭͈̮̣̹̬͇̮͉̙̼̞͇͖͇̬͚̤̝̰̤͇̬̺̫̗͚̗͔͔̗̩̪̱͓̹͍͓̬̝̰͈̲͈̝̺͇̺͈̲̟̀̒̾͊̾̊̎̆̍̎̍̎̽̆̋̈́̏͂͌͒̓̈́̾̔́̅̉̀̒͋̔̑͌̏̊́͆́̌̉̉̀͗̽͘̕͝͠͝͝͝y̸̢̨̧̨̢̢̨̡̨̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͔̮̘̬͓͈̟͙͇̲̹̤̝̘̠̺̭͇̺̞̘̝̜͉̻̙͈͙͎̦̗̫̻̩̠̲̯̮̮͈̻̰͕͎̳̞̤̼͎̗͇̻̥̜͍̞̱̞̲̭̦̹̠͙͇͔̳̥̫͚͈̣͉͈̗̣̼̤̻͙̗̱̰̗͇̩̩͖̝͇͎̰̟̺̱̅͆͊̆̃̄͗̌̅̍̔̒̉̃͐̋̄́̇̇̀͆́͐̈́͊͊̈́͊̈́̌̉͂͐̃̽͂̃́̄̀̀̇̈́̉̈͌͋̔̋͒͌́̑̔͒̊̈́̈́̔͛͛̒̐͒̈̎́̀̽̀͐͋̅̊̈́̎̀̾͛͑̆̋̆̒̂̄͊̊̇̀̀̂̆̾̈́̓̄͛̐͗̄̎̍̍̍̌͌̌͐̌̈́̾̇̀̀͂̿͐̏̑̍̑̄͂̊̆́̌͑̽̐͋͐̎̌̚̚͘̕͘͘̕̚͘͘͜͠͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅǫ̸̨̢̛̛̛̳̮̪͇̹̠͚̳̗̫̘͇̰̞̫͖̟͉̬̺͕̫̰̼̹̥̤̠̹͖̱̜̝͈̭̹̥̯̣̩̪̫̝̮̝̩̭̞̪͉̱̗͔͚̼̦͇̳̯͍̥͕̂̓͐̾͛̐͋̄̑̽̄͗̒̆̄̑̾͑̈̓̑̍̒̒̂̓̄́̈̓̔̈́́̓̐̈́̃̎̈͐̏͂̀̓́͊͒͒̎̒̃̀̃̇͑̅͗̌͗͊̂̈́͂̀̀̾̓̈́͂̈͒̆͌̌̓̎̇̈̽͐͛̃̓̓͒̏̑̋̓́͊̿̏͗̀̎̅́̋̍͗̚̕̕̚͘͘͘̚͘̚̚̚̚͝͠͠͝͝͠͝¢̷̡̡̢̧̧̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̖̼̟͓͈͉̯̼̹̰̘̰̤̙̫̭̬̜̰̪̞̹͎̲̬̣̻̪͎̰̟̜̗̥͚͇̖̗̩͈̦̦̠̤̲̫̖̤̤̲͋͒̅̅̀͌̃̄̃̈́͑͛̄́̐̈́̋̑̎̐̒̒̋̀̍̔͐̋̾̊͐̐̿̏͗͂̊̒̓̈́͗̒̈́̐͒̍͒̀̊̎͌͌͒͐̐̈́́̓̄̓̃͒̅͋̿̂̾̎̑̾̃́͆͑̃̈̓̿̊́͊̀̀̆̿͐̀͆̈́͂̇̓͋͐̈́̑͑̐̐̉̈́́͌͆͗̈́̓̎͒̔̄̃̈́͗͆͑̋̈͛͐̈́̐́͊̆̓̎̈̈́̂́̈́̅̓̇̎͐̿͌̇͑͛͐̍̊́̈́̑̈́͒͆̈́̈̓̇̈́̈́̿̑̆̑̂͊͊͋̈́̕͘̕̚̚̚̚̚͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅḉ̷̧̢̢̧̨̨̧̨̨̢̛̛̬͕̺͙̻̞͕͓͉̳̜͍͕͎̺̳͚͍̺̙͉̟̹̰͍͉̲̝͙͓̣̻̺̯͖͖̺̤͚̬̦̻̗̹̟̬͚̙̰̟̮̜͙̖̭̞̠̰͎̪͇̯̮̖̗͓̠͎̹̬̺̬̙̞͎̥͔̱̞͖̞̦̝̜͙̠̰̫̳͔͙͔̣̘̯̣̠̗̬̼͉͖̼͇̟̟̞̣͈̙͖͉̥͚̱̙̼̖̖͇̬̼̲͍͓̰̫̙̠͓̟͈̣̬͖̞͕̝̣̫͓̣͈̭͉͎̺̱͖̱̳͚͉̗̯̻̑̑́̑͗̈́̊̊͛́̎̽̀͊̀͂̽̓̓͊͐̒͗̋̽̑̈́͂̓̽͑͋̍̎̾̑͂̓̌͊̀̐̅̀͋̉̈̈̂́͆̂͗͌̉̎̀́͂̋̍̔̆̉̋́͆̂̊̀̑̾͑̐͊̊̈͐̔̀͂͘͘͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅz̵̨̡̢̢̨̧̡̧̧̛̛̛̛̛̛͓̥̘̣̝͙͖̱̳̹̦̜̪̫̲̹̖̳͓̭͈̦̘͓͚̗̩̦̦̠̬̬͚͎̤̝̖̲̮̤͙͙͓̤̪͓̩̮̖̼̙̪̫͙͖̙̖̹̭̬̞̯̝͍͍͍̠̠̦͎̼͓̦͇̱̥͙̞̠͓̗͉̲̝͇̺͇̲͉̺̞̺̺͔̤͓̠̖͐͌̽̅͑̊̊̄̋̍̔́̾͂͒͌̈́͂̔̐̀̓̆̓͆̀̑̋̈́͆̓̾́̌̈̀͗͋͋̐̾͋́̅̈́̃́̓͋̈́͋͒̽̐͛̈́̌̄͗̃̓̾̾̇̐̇̾̽̉̊͌̌̂̀̂̾̉̍͒̍̐͋̂̐̄̌̌͗͐̂͑̊̂͂̐̓͌̃̾̇̒̇͆̅̄̅̀̐͆̍͒̅͆̌̒̍̆̔̈́̉̾͂͒́̃̾̊́̿̔̀́̂͆̾̐͒̾͗̀̑̀͊͑͛͊͆̅́̏̍̇̚̕̕̕͘̚̕͘̕̕̕͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅớ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢̧̧̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̯̦̩͔̺̻̳͔̬͕̭̱̳̰̳̟̣̲̭̥̥̣͙̠̯̦̗̜͙̺͕͉̤̼̲̝̖͇̲̦͈̼̬̘̣̜̜͎̝͔͎̼̭͔̭̩̳̤̞̜͔͙̪̤͕̲͈͍͇̜̖̩̫͍͕̺̠͖̬͍̭̅́̓̈́̂̒͛̅͊̀́͑͐̇̑̽̐͛͒̒̓̈́͆́̌͑͑̏̅̇͆͛̾͐͋̃͂̌͌̄́̑̍̔͑͊̒͛̀̔͊̂͋̌͆͛̆́̽́͒̿͛̽̑̍͒͆̉̈́̎̃̍̈́̈́̅̉͊̈́̆͆͑̉̽̕̚͘͘̕̚̕̚̕̕̚͜͜͜͠͝͠ͅͅͅ╪̶̢̡̨̡̢̧̢̧̨̢̨̧̡̨̧̡̨̨̨̡̨̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̙̫̬̲̩͓͍̟̮͎͎̬̖̮̰̤̞̹̖̭͉̤̻̺̤̼͔̥̫͔̮̟̳̠͓̼͎̠̩̮͚̫̰͇̥͉̙̘̣̫̫̗͉̞͔̳̤̯̟̜͍̦͔̪̝̺̫͈̝͇̟͍̤̺̱̼̯͇̙̤͉̣̖̹͍̯͚̝͓̪̯̠͍̻͎̠͎̣͚͚̲̤̱̪̬̗̜̘̻̘̗͖̺̣̰̳̠͙̦̲̘̙̟̥̰̭͖͉͎̲͔̜̰̰̣̜̝̱̗̙̯͕̠̲͇͇̟͔͈̗͎̩͔̼̹̙̱̬̭̜͍̬̦̙̯͔͎̥͉̘͈͖̝͈̺̈́̿͊̒́́̍̓̃̈́̐̀̌́͊̓͋̈́̓͒͊̓͛̏̌̈̊̔̆͐́̀͂͂͌̇̓̈́̊̀̈́͗̑̇̾͂̊͐̿̎̂̄̃̑̀̉͌̀̇̈́̃͋̀̊͛̇̿̓̍̔̃͋̒͒̈́͊̈͌̊́͊̽̿̐͐͊̀̋̇̓͊̍̏̃̎̈́͗̆̑͑̄̑̍́̒̏̏͐̒̀̄̌͒͊̒͗͋̔̎̉́̅̑̌̎̉̓̅͛͆́̋̉͑̐̉͘̚̚̚̕͘̕̚̚͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅᾳ̴̢̢̧̡̢̧̡̡̧̧̨̢̧̨̡̧̡̢̧̢̧̨̨̛̛̛̤͖̣̭̞̲̼͇̭̙͓̟̦͎̜̼̹͉̥͍̖̙̥͖͖͎̱̻̯̟͖͎̥͚͙̬͔͙̝̝̪̭̝̫̦͓̯̺͓͇̳͇͓̭̪̖̘̤̺͍͉̭̩͚̣̫̮͚͎̗͉̖̭̞̪͇̻̠̹͕̝͈̤̙̺̖̞͎̦͚͎̣̗̘̯̪̯͇̰̣̲͚̙̹̫̲̭̝̭͎̰͇͔̠̤̦͔̦̲͕͇͔͓̘̙̰͉̙̞̙͈̥͚̥͙͍̥͕̫̫͚̙̪̬̝͕̻͓̫̯̫̰̲̝̤̳̞̜̗̫̱̜͇̖͉̺̖̞̣̟̙̭̬̮̱̖̜̜͖̉̾̅͋̔̆́͑̿̊̈́̇̀̌̄͂̍͊́̿̿̓̾̒̇͋̓̐͑̾̀̂̅͒̒̆͊̓̋̅͂͌́̆̀͌̒̿̈́̄̀̇̽̓̐̒̑̾̾̊͂́̄̇͐͗̌͐̆́̄̈̃̇͗̽́̒͗̌̄́́͂͋̌̉́̾̽̕͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅ₧̴̧̨̧̨̧̨̧̝̪͚̺̥̫̱̝̳̫̻̹̰͍̳͔̖̬̫͇̱̥͚̳̳̜͈̦̦͓͓̰̯̮̭̟̻͂̐̓̿̄͑̃̾̍̐̋̿̄̄̀͆̂͆̈́̉͛͂̽̈́̃͑͐̈́̀͆͆͗͒͆͋̈̒͑͂͗͆̅̽͐̇̊͆̋́̄̍̋͐͑̎͐͒͒̈́̈́͗̓̔̎̋͋͐̽͊͐̓̈́͂͗̂̇̄̊̇͋͊̒͊̌̄̆͑̓̋̐̎̌͒̄́͋̏̌͊͊̿̊̕͘͘̚̕͘͘̚̚͝͝͠͠͠͠≈̶̧̡̨̨̡̧̨̢̨̛̛̦͍͕̗̼̯͔̳̬̞̥̩̻̥̫͚͉͉͕̜͍͓̠̹̻̟̤̹̬̯͓̳̩͉̱̜͓̭͉̩͙̮͍͕̳̣͕̻̘̟͇̤̯͔̝̩̹̬̟̣̝̲̼̳͕̳̖̝͙̱̜̅̒̔̔̽̎̑͐̏̽̆̾̈̀͆͛̋̈́̓̇̔͆͊͂́̓̀̓̃̑̿̊̽͛́̒̅̍̃̽̈̉͐̊̓͐͐̐͌̈́̀̓͒̋̄̎̋̿̓̊̈́̄̉̊̏̾̀́̾̌̏͒͒̔̏͗́̾͛̓́͆̉̉̃́͛̿̍̓͗̿̓̿̑̐̈̃͛̓̏̚͘̚̕̚̕͘̕͝͝͝͠ͅ
Name: Gale Thompson
Age: 22
Favorite Activities: Online Gaming and Harassing You
Occupation: Night manager at Holiday Express
Appearance: Short, slightly chubby but obviously muscular, Gale would probably have been a cute guy if he had known what to do with his facial hair or fashion. With a moustache straight out of the 1880's and a love of sweater vests, you'll admit he gets looks. Just . . not the good ones.
Your step brother from Dad's other marriage. It was weird growing up with Gale. He was always a loner and ended up spending more time with you and your friends then with any friends of his own, but it wasn't like he was a bad person. It was probably growing up with his Dad alone that made him the way he is.
Age: 22
Favorite Activities: Online Gaming and Harassing You
Occupation: Night manager at Holiday Express
Appearance: Short, slightly chubby but obviously muscular, Gale would probably have been a cute guy if he had known what to do with his facial hair or fashion. With a moustache straight out of the 1880's and a love of sweater vests, you'll admit he gets looks. Just . . not the good ones.
Your step brother from Dad's other marriage. It was weird growing up with Gale. He was always a loner and ended up spending more time with you and your friends then with any friends of his own, but it wasn't like he was a bad person. It was probably growing up with his Dad alone that made him the way he is.
Name: Lilly Armstrong
Age: 17
Favorite Activities: Singing and ḑ̵̛̛̥̝̦̟̫͈̼̱̬̳̗͚̈́͝ͅŗ̸̧̧̪̝̙̣̜̝̱͈̖̻̺̭̤̟̰͙̘͎̮̺̟͕͔̙̗͓̦̫̯̟̞̰͇͙̹̗̭̩̪̜̯̈̾̃̓̒̊̌̏͂̇̐̀̃̾̀͛̽̏̎͌͐̿̀̐̇̈́͗́̒̏̑̇͐̈̐̐̈́̒̿̋͆̒̍̈́̇́͌̂̆̀͋̂̕̚͘͜͜͝͝͠͝ͅí̶̢̡̨̛̛͖͕͕͍̝̳̤͍̝͍̰̙̗̞͚̝̣̳͔͙͎͖̝͎̻̮̰̥̱̼̳͕̈̉̈́͐̃̉͗͗͆͛̓̿͑̎̿̂̔́̓͒̈́͋͂̒̋͌̐̃͆̒͗͆̂̎͆̾̉̚͜͝͠͝n̶̢̨̡̛̛̛̝͕͕̫̻̠̮̬̤̫̬̝̬̩̬̼̘͔̞̪̟͎͚̥͕̹̭͙̩͎̟͖̞̗̤̤̰̪͚̯̭̗͎̠̻̻̯̹͔̜̈́͌͂̏̉͒̀̆̃̎̈́͌̍͗̿̆̓͌̆̀̍̀̈͒͒̿͊̔̿̋̐̃̍͛́̀͐̌̇̌̅̃̋̑̚̕͘̚̚͘͘͜͠͝͠͝ͅk̵̢̛̳͚̭̜̖͖̣̭̙͖̳͎̖̣͕̙͑̂̊̔̉̃̄͋͌̀͌̇̽̒̂̇̾̓͑͑͆͐͆̃̃͊̔͛̍̈́̓͒̌̐̋͆͌̓̓͆̔̅̉̍̿̈̈́̂̒͌͠͝͠ͅị̴̡̢̨̢̧̖͚͖̤̖̣̺̞͍͕̖̯̹̖̠̝̥̖̫͍͙̰̭̭̪͎͉̝̭̪͔͉͚̹͔͉̍̿̄͑̓͆̐͒̆̄̊̏́̂̀̾̐͛̈́͑͐̑̒͆̀̇̆̀͋̽̈́̀́̃̏̀͑͛͑̂̀́̉̐̒̈͋͌̄͘͝͠n̷̥̩̺̩͍̼̺̍͒́̋̒̀̓̽͛͠ͅg̷̛̳̺͙̳̙͕̏̈́̊̓̆̃̓̆̑̔̓͛̈̍̈́͂̄̀̎̏͋͐͘̚̚͜͠
Favorite Subject: Biology
Appearance: Tall, black, fierce. With an afro kept short and staggering blue eyes, Lilly held a crowd's attention on stage and off. You wish you had half of her skill with a makeup brush. Or, well, any brush. Henna tattoos always covered her exposed skin on her arms and neck, tailored to her outfit.
Thought by everybody to be naturally lucky, you know better than to make those assumptions. Lilly put her everything into being the singer and dancer that she was, and although she had a bad home environment, she made it all work. At some point, she sacrificed herself to form a sort of magical seal on you that you still don't fully understand. The seal is gone, and in its last words she told you she was dead, but you know there is still something out there in America pretending to be the Lilly that you've loved.
Age: 17
Favorite Activities: Singing and ḑ̵̛̛̥̝̦̟̫͈̼̱̬̳̗͚̈́͝ͅŗ̸̧̧̪̝̙̣̜̝̱͈̖̻̺̭̤̟̰͙̘͎̮̺̟͕͔̙̗͓̦̫̯̟̞̰͇͙̹̗̭̩̪̜̯̈̾̃̓̒̊̌̏͂̇̐̀̃̾̀͛̽̏̎͌͐̿̀̐̇̈́͗́̒̏̑̇͐̈̐̐̈́̒̿̋͆̒̍̈́̇́͌̂̆̀͋̂̕̚͘͜͜͝͝͠͝ͅí̶̢̡̨̛̛͖͕͕͍̝̳̤͍̝͍̰̙̗̞͚̝̣̳͔͙͎͖̝͎̻̮̰̥̱̼̳͕̈̉̈́͐̃̉͗͗͆͛̓̿͑̎̿̂̔́̓͒̈́͋͂̒̋͌̐̃͆̒͗͆̂̎͆̾̉̚͜͝͠͝n̶̢̨̡̛̛̛̝͕͕̫̻̠̮̬̤̫̬̝̬̩̬̼̘͔̞̪̟͎͚̥͕̹̭͙̩͎̟͖̞̗̤̤̰̪͚̯̭̗͎̠̻̻̯̹͔̜̈́͌͂̏̉͒̀̆̃̎̈́͌̍͗̿̆̓͌̆̀̍̀̈͒͒̿͊̔̿̋̐̃̍͛́̀͐̌̇̌̅̃̋̑̚̕͘̚̚͘͘͜͠͝͠͝ͅk̵̢̛̳͚̭̜̖͖̣̭̙͖̳͎̖̣͕̙͑̂̊̔̉̃̄͋͌̀͌̇̽̒̂̇̾̓͑͑͆͐͆̃̃͊̔͛̍̈́̓͒̌̐̋͆͌̓̓͆̔̅̉̍̿̈̈́̂̒͌͠͝͠ͅị̴̡̢̨̢̧̖͚͖̤̖̣̺̞͍͕̖̯̹̖̠̝̥̖̫͍͙̰̭̭̪͎͉̝̭̪͔͉͚̹͔͉̍̿̄͑̓͆̐͒̆̄̊̏́̂̀̾̐͛̈́͑͐̑̒͆̀̇̆̀͋̽̈́̀́̃̏̀͑͛͑̂̀́̉̐̒̈͋͌̄͘͝͠n̷̥̩̺̩͍̼̺̍͒́̋̒̀̓̽͛͠ͅg̷̛̳̺͙̳̙͕̏̈́̊̓̆̃̓̆̑̔̓͛̈̍̈́͂̄̀̎̏͋͐͘̚̚͜͠
Favorite Subject: Biology
Appearance: Tall, black, fierce. With an afro kept short and staggering blue eyes, Lilly held a crowd's attention on stage and off. You wish you had half of her skill with a makeup brush. Or, well, any brush. Henna tattoos always covered her exposed skin on her arms and neck, tailored to her outfit.
Thought by everybody to be naturally lucky, you know better than to make those assumptions. Lilly put her everything into being the singer and dancer that she was, and although she had a bad home environment, she made it all work. At some point, she sacrificed herself to form a sort of magical seal on you that you still don't fully understand. The seal is gone, and in its last words she told you she was dead, but you know there is still something out there in America pretending to be the Lilly that you've loved.
Japanese Teachers
Name: Hana Fukunaga
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher
Appearance: Around 170cm, she has an average height and an average build. Wearing a handkerchief like a scarf, something about her just screams that Soviet-pioneer aesthetic. Her two long, blonde braids don't help with that either.
When you look past her over dramatic tendencies, she seems really nice. . . sometimes you think she doesn't put enough thought into how her actions affect others, though, as the show in Literature today suggested. She did offer you a lot of help, though.
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher
Appearance: Around 170cm, she has an average height and an average build. Wearing a handkerchief like a scarf, something about her just screams that Soviet-pioneer aesthetic. Her two long, blonde braids don't help with that either.
When you look past her over dramatic tendencies, she seems really nice. . . sometimes you think she doesn't put enough thought into how her actions affect others, though, as the show in Literature today suggested. She did offer you a lot of help, though.
Name: Mariazinha Maki
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher: Home Ec, Portuguese
Appearance: A Brazilian bombshell, she'd be more at home on a runway than in a classroom. She's lean, tall for Japanese standards and has two very long black braids.
You don't have anything against her as a person, but she barely speaks Japanese and that's making it really hard for you to understand her class.
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher: Home Ec, Portuguese
Appearance: A Brazilian bombshell, she'd be more at home on a runway than in a classroom. She's lean, tall for Japanese standards and has two very long black braids.
You don't have anything against her as a person, but she barely speaks Japanese and that's making it really hard for you to understand her class.
Name: ?? Ito
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher: Physics, former nuclear physicist
Appearance: He's a crazy old man. Wearing joggers, flannel and a baseball cap, you liken him to that one crazy great grandfather Momma never let you talk to back home.
Evidently, he is the adoptive father of Namiko. Though he doesn't seem to have been in the same home as her, it's clear from memories you now have that are not yours that the two of them were incredibly close.
This man is INSANE. How does he have a license to teach?
Age: ??
Occupation: High School Teacher: Physics, former nuclear physicist
Appearance: He's a crazy old man. Wearing joggers, flannel and a baseball cap, you liken him to that one crazy great grandfather Momma never let you talk to back home.
Evidently, he is the adoptive father of Namiko. Though he doesn't seem to have been in the same home as her, it's clear from memories you now have that are not yours that the two of them were incredibly close.
This man is INSANE. How does he have a license to teach?
Name: Hyeon-seung Rhi
Age: 23 ?
Occupation: High School Teacher: Gym & Phys. Ed
Appearance: A kind young man, wearing a bright red track suit. He's Korean, and probably just five years older than the students here.
He's nice, and apparently friends with Miss Fukunaga. You're worried, though, that he might not fully understand the situations that he's trying to help in.
Age: 23 ?
Occupation: High School Teacher: Gym & Phys. Ed
Appearance: A kind young man, wearing a bright red track suit. He's Korean, and probably just five years older than the students here.
He's nice, and apparently friends with Miss Fukunaga. You're worried, though, that he might not fully understand the situations that he's trying to help in.
Name: ?? Sakurai
Age: ??
Occupation: World History
Appearance: An old lady with a boy's haircut, stress lines under her eyes and stress lines across her forehead.
A devil amongst the other nice teachers of the school, you fundamentally do not understand how she still has a job.
Age: ??
Occupation: World History
Appearance: An old lady with a boy's haircut, stress lines under her eyes and stress lines across her forehead.
A devil amongst the other nice teachers of the school, you fundamentally do not understand how she still has a job.
Japanese Students
Name: Rika
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Only 158cm, but she carries herself with an attitude far larger than her body. Brown eyes, brown hair that's always kept in a sloppy bun and obvious marks of sleep deprivation mark her from the crowd.
You don't know her that well, but she helped you find your way to class on the first day of school. You guess you can look past all of her attempted gang signs, because she seems like a pretty good person.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Only 158cm, but she carries herself with an attitude far larger than her body. Brown eyes, brown hair that's always kept in a sloppy bun and obvious marks of sleep deprivation mark her from the crowd.
You don't know her that well, but she helped you find your way to class on the first day of school. You guess you can look past all of her attempted gang signs, because she seems like a pretty good person.
Name: Aku
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Awkward, lanky and nervous. He's cute, but his lack of social skills keep him from being cute. Evidently, he can lie with absolutely no tells.
You feel a little bad for him. As he tells it, he's known everybody, been friends with everybody and been cast aside for it. You don't know how he feels about you, but after Literature and World History today, you're not willing to make any quick judgments of him.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Awkward, lanky and nervous. He's cute, but his lack of social skills keep him from being cute. Evidently, he can lie with absolutely no tells.
You feel a little bad for him. As he tells it, he's known everybody, been friends with everybody and been cast aside for it. You don't know how he feels about you, but after Literature and World History today, you're not willing to make any quick judgments of him.
Name: Tatsuya
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: He's cute, tall for a Japanese guy, and he has a really kind smile. You can't help but make eye contact with him when you look at him, and you could lose yourself in those brown orbs.
You were worried that he might have a low opinion of you because your first interaction was him noticing you staring at his ass when you were trying to figure out why there were pencils sticking out of his pocket, but he really seems to be a genuine and warm person.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: He's cute, tall for a Japanese guy, and he has a really kind smile. You can't help but make eye contact with him when you look at him, and you could lose yourself in those brown orbs.
You were worried that he might have a low opinion of you because your first interaction was him noticing you staring at his ass when you were trying to figure out why there were pencils sticking out of his pocket, but he really seems to be a genuine and warm person.
Name: Monika
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Eye-height with Miss Sakurai, but shorter than most other people in the class. She has pink hair that looks natural and two piercing blue eyes. Her build is athletic, and you're sure if you asked Moe about her, you could find out more.
She is the epitome of "fight the system," at least in this school. It's not something that you normally agree with, but when it's in Sakurai's class, you think you can approve.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Eye-height with Miss Sakurai, but shorter than most other people in the class. She has pink hair that looks natural and two piercing blue eyes. Her build is athletic, and you're sure if you asked Moe about her, you could find out more.
She is the epitome of "fight the system," at least in this school. It's not something that you normally agree with, but when it's in Sakurai's class, you think you can approve.
Name: Moe
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Aside from her black-eye, this girl is notable for her incredible athletic build. She could crush a pumpkin between her thighs. She wears most of the school uniform, though you can tell she's replaced the white t-shirt with a compression shirt.
She's a good person, as far as you can tell, and you think she'd get along really well with Lilly. She's invited you out to lunch and really seems like she cares about making things up to you.
The perfect angel that will n̵̡̢̤̳̗̻̬̦̟̹͕̤̣͚̤̦̥̘̺͑́̔̂e̸̡̨̧̢̗̲̗̫̜̬͕̙̖̯̰͉͖͚̟̖̍̉͑̀̇̆̑̈́͆̂́̎̊̓͊̉͝͝v̸̛̛͙̳͚̲̥̦̌͗̎ë̵̡̧̨̧͔̠̤͍͖͔̺̠͓̟̯̩̻̪͇͙̺͕̪̍̿́̈̄ͅr̶̫̻͔̝͙͉̣̒̋̇̓̓̇̉̆̋̉ ̶̡̙̣͙͕͕̠͚̘͇̖̹̼̤̻̩͍̣̯̳̟͍̃̑͐̇͒̈̿͑̃́̆̌̐͂̿̆̋͗̉́̇̂̚͜͝͝ͅb̴̧̧̦̳̤̘̼͎͙̮̟̱̻̲͎͕̫̱̗̳̲͌̄̅̋̉͑͊͊̀͆͜͜͠ȩ̶̛̪̲̲̥̯̤͓̣͙̼̫̖͍͎̣̯͎̞͍͌͑͒̔̿̊͆̅͗̽͋̍ͅ ̶̧̨̧͓̙̟̮͔̣̼͚̮̺́̽͑̒͛̾́̌̃̾͊̍̉̄̈͘͘̕͠ỹ̵̧̧̢̛̛̭̲̹͚̣͔̿̈́͆̽̔̑̔̓͐͂̍̆͐͆̉̂́͊͊̔͝͠ó̶̡͇͕̭͕͐͂̈́̈́̈́̋͐̏̒̓́́̾̋̚̕͝͝ų̶̼̯̺̥̳͓̮̻̞̰̗̹͍̺̻́͒̎̈́̋̾̒͗͘͠ͅŗ̴̧̨̡̳̝̘̰͓͍͔͕̫͕̣̈͐̔̉̌̑̀̐̾̓͑̂̾͂̎̕̚͠ͅs̵̢̢̰̮͉̞̖̝̫̰͚̺̣͖͕̜̦̬̲̠̃͆̇̓̍̓̔̇̈́́͂́̅̔̋̚͝.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: Aside from her black-eye, this girl is notable for her incredible athletic build. She could crush a pumpkin between her thighs. She wears most of the school uniform, though you can tell she's replaced the white t-shirt with a compression shirt.
She's a good person, as far as you can tell, and you think she'd get along really well with Lilly. She's invited you out to lunch and really seems like she cares about making things up to you.
The perfect angel that will n̵̡̢̤̳̗̻̬̦̟̹͕̤̣͚̤̦̥̘̺͑́̔̂e̸̡̨̧̢̗̲̗̫̜̬͕̙̖̯̰͉͖͚̟̖̍̉͑̀̇̆̑̈́͆̂́̎̊̓͊̉͝͝v̸̛̛͙̳͚̲̥̦̌͗̎ë̵̡̧̨̧͔̠̤͍͖͔̺̠͓̟̯̩̻̪͇͙̺͕̪̍̿́̈̄ͅr̶̫̻͔̝͙͉̣̒̋̇̓̓̇̉̆̋̉ ̶̡̙̣͙͕͕̠͚̘͇̖̹̼̤̻̩͍̣̯̳̟͍̃̑͐̇͒̈̿͑̃́̆̌̐͂̿̆̋͗̉́̇̂̚͜͝͝ͅb̴̧̧̦̳̤̘̼͎͙̮̟̱̻̲͎͕̫̱̗̳̲͌̄̅̋̉͑͊͊̀͆͜͜͠ȩ̶̛̪̲̲̥̯̤͓̣͙̼̫̖͍͎̣̯͎̞͍͌͑͒̔̿̊͆̅͗̽͋̍ͅ ̶̧̨̧͓̙̟̮͔̣̼͚̮̺́̽͑̒͛̾́̌̃̾͊̍̉̄̈͘͘̕͠ỹ̵̧̧̢̛̛̭̲̹͚̣͔̿̈́͆̽̔̑̔̓͐͂̍̆͐͆̉̂́͊͊̔͝͠ó̶̡͇͕̭͕͐͂̈́̈́̈́̋͐̏̒̓́́̾̋̚̕͝͝ų̶̼̯̺̥̳͓̮̻̞̰̗̹͍̺̻́͒̎̈́̋̾̒͗͘͠ͅŗ̴̧̨̡̳̝̘̰͓͍͔͕̫͕̣̈͐̔̉̌̑̀̐̾̓͑̂̾͂̎̕̚͠ͅs̵̢̢̰̮͉̞̖̝̫̰͚̺̣͖͕̜̦̬̲̠̃͆̇̓̍̓̔̇̈́́͂́̅̔̋̚͝.
Name: Kojii
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: Head of the Film Club
Appearance: He's the spitting image of your brother, Gale, though Gale's bad fashion sense and love of sweater vests is replaced by school uniforms that have undergone slight modification to include little cut outs of anime characters around the hems.
You tried talking to him. All he did was talk over you and go on and on about his favorite movies and fan theories. He's a nihilist and representative of the worst types of internet opinions.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: Head of the Film Club
Appearance: He's the spitting image of your brother, Gale, though Gale's bad fashion sense and love of sweater vests is replaced by school uniforms that have undergone slight modification to include little cut outs of anime characters around the hems.
You tried talking to him. All he did was talk over you and go on and on about his favorite movies and fan theories. He's a nihilist and representative of the worst types of internet opinions.
Name: Kaida
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: A giantess among the Japanese, Kaida stands at a towering 195cm -- almost 6'5" in Imperial -- and seems to know it. She walks with purpose, talks with purpose, and does not hesitate. Her hair is proudly kept in a strawberry-blonde pixie cut, and you can see the start of a tattoo on the nape of her neck.
A demoness in flesh who stole your guardian angel and turned everything you lived for to ash and ruin.
Age: 17 ?
Occupation: ??
Appearance: A giantess among the Japanese, Kaida stands at a towering 195cm -- almost 6'5" in Imperial -- and seems to know it. She walks with purpose, talks with purpose, and does not hesitate. Her hair is proudly kept in a strawberry-blonde pixie cut, and you can see the start of a tattoo on the nape of her neck.
A demoness in flesh who stole your guardian angel and turned everything you lived for to ash and ruin.
Supernatural
Name: Namiko
Age: 17 ?
Species: Human / Magical Girl
Occupation: Magical Girl, librarian's aide, head of the Robotics Club
Appearance: The most notable things about Namiko are her striking blue eyes and her tight black bun of hair. She has a very polished look, and while she's not jawdroppingly beautiful, you can tell that she takes pride in her appearance.
When she lets Ozymandias' power take her, a shield of radiant chain mail armor forms around her. She becomes an angel in the flesh, with a sheen of beautiful and dazzling light across all of her unarmored form, and near infinite lances of holy fire move to her beck and call.
When you first met her, she seemed a bit spastic. You know a bit more about why now. An orphan and a child soldier against the demons and the dark things in the night, she had a very black and white view of the world and the people in it. Even though she brought you back from the dead, she was unable to come to see you as anything but a monster.
Now, mauled most of the way to death, she rots in a hospital and you're unsure if she will ever recover.
Age: 17 ?
Species: Human / Magical Girl
Occupation: Magical Girl, librarian's aide, head of the Robotics Club
Appearance: The most notable things about Namiko are her striking blue eyes and her tight black bun of hair. She has a very polished look, and while she's not jawdroppingly beautiful, you can tell that she takes pride in her appearance.
When she lets Ozymandias' power take her, a shield of radiant chain mail armor forms around her. She becomes an angel in the flesh, with a sheen of beautiful and dazzling light across all of her unarmored form, and near infinite lances of holy fire move to her beck and call.
When you first met her, she seemed a bit spastic. You know a bit more about why now. An orphan and a child soldier against the demons and the dark things in the night, she had a very black and white view of the world and the people in it. Even though she brought you back from the dead, she was unable to come to see you as anything but a monster.
Now, mauled most of the way to death, she rots in a hospital and you're unsure if she will ever recover.
Name: Ozymandias
Age: Timeless ?
Species: Lich ?
Appearance: Ozymandias takes the form of a fat white cat, with eyes that glow red with holy--or unholy--fire. His form is entirely an illusion, however, and at will he can turn to a being entirely of white and red flame. He has massive control over his form when he releases his illusion, able to shape himself into weapons, armor and more.
Though introduced to you originally as a female cat named Oz, you knew that he was something more than that. He is one of the few things in the world that has actually killed you, and while you used to wish for that, it is not something you are thankful for. He seems to be destroyed now, and you have drank his phylactery and presumably absorbed what remains of his soul.
Still, you can't help but feel some part of his soul lives on. . .
Age: Timeless ?
Species: Lich ?
Appearance: Ozymandias takes the form of a fat white cat, with eyes that glow red with holy--or unholy--fire. His form is entirely an illusion, however, and at will he can turn to a being entirely of white and red flame. He has massive control over his form when he releases his illusion, able to shape himself into weapons, armor and more.
Though introduced to you originally as a female cat named Oz, you knew that he was something more than that. He is one of the few things in the world that has actually killed you, and while you used to wish for that, it is not something you are thankful for. He seems to be destroyed now, and you have drank his phylactery and presumably absorbed what remains of his soul.
Still, you can't help but feel some part of his soul lives on. . .
Name: ???
Age: Timeless ?
Species: Lich ?
Appearance: In the same way that Ozymandias takes the form of a fat white cat, the black cat takes the form of a lithe and agile black kitten with small nubs of bone visible between her ears. Though you haven't seen her release her form like Oz does, you have seen her shrink and expand her form into that of a great and awful black panther. In combat, she's able to call forth powerful discs, shields and bubbles of emerald energy, the same emerald-color as the fire that burns where her eyes should be.
She's made no introduction to you, but she seems to have helped Namiko recover -- though she is also responsible for Namiko's later mauling. She tricked you into stealing Ozymandias's phylactery and convinced you to drink it, and in the moments after, she defeated Oz and Namiko and fled.
She also stole all of your money, though she has left you a bag and a letter in return.
Age: Timeless ?
Species: Lich ?
Appearance: In the same way that Ozymandias takes the form of a fat white cat, the black cat takes the form of a lithe and agile black kitten with small nubs of bone visible between her ears. Though you haven't seen her release her form like Oz does, you have seen her shrink and expand her form into that of a great and awful black panther. In combat, she's able to call forth powerful discs, shields and bubbles of emerald energy, the same emerald-color as the fire that burns where her eyes should be.
She's made no introduction to you, but she seems to have helped Namiko recover -- though she is also responsible for Namiko's later mauling. She tricked you into stealing Ozymandias's phylactery and convinced you to drink it, and in the moments after, she defeated Oz and Namiko and fled.
She also stole all of your money, though she has left you a bag and a letter in return.
Last edited:
[X] Name: Felice
[X] Academic Focus: Biology
[X] Favorite thing: You're naturally lucky
[X] Best Friend: Gale Thompson(Male, though very pretty)
[X] Academic Focus: Biology
[X] Favorite thing: You're naturally lucky
[X] Best Friend: Gale Thompson(Male, though very pretty)
- Location
- Somewhere
[x] Nellie Thompson
[x] Physics
[x] Half of the appliances around the house are either hand-made, or at least tinkered with
[x] Lilly Armstrong
[x] Physics
[x] Half of the appliances around the house are either hand-made, or at least tinkered with
[x] Lilly Armstrong
Opening -- 0.01
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
Winning vote:
[x] Nellie Thompson
[x] Physics
[x] Half of the appliances around the house are either hand-made, or at least tinkered with
[x] Lilly Armstrong
===============
It had been a really long time since I last had to walk to school. Must've been . . 5th grade? . . when Momma started driving me to school instead. The middle school was a little farther then the elementary, Momma said, and she just . . huh. I trailed off. This was a really useless train of thought, Nell.
I definitely didn't mind the walk, though. The city here was beautiful. Even the apartment Momma had found shun with this rustic Japanese charm and brought out this nostalgia of a time I had never lived through. There were red and black tiled roofs, the walls were white and picturesque, fences tall and--inviting?--and the porches of other apartment complexes covered in fairy lanterns and charms. The sun was shining, and though a car would whiz by every minute or so, it didn't disturb the natural quaint and peace of the area.
There was a group of people some fifty feet ahead of me, heading the same way I was. I had only been in Nomizu for a week, but I'd walked the path to the high school a couple of times, so I was pretty confident in my assumption. Besides, it looked like they were wearing backpacks. Should I catch up to them . . ?
[ ] Run and catch up to the group. You can never start making friends too early.
[ ] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
Will update profile with info on Nellie. Did you want Thompson as her father's last name (which she wouldn't be using frequently, because she took her Momma's last name of Irvine), do you want it as her middle-name or do you want it hyphenated (Thompson-Irvine)?
Hopefully y'all enjoyed the update, if anything seems too ridiculous let me know / if I'm not covering some area in enough details, let me know about that too. Thank you! : )
edit: initial Important NPC info done.
[x] Nellie Thompson
[x] Physics
[x] Half of the appliances around the house are either hand-made, or at least tinkered with
[x] Lilly Armstrong
===============
It had been a really long time since I last had to walk to school. Must've been . . 5th grade? . . when Momma started driving me to school instead. The middle school was a little farther then the elementary, Momma said, and she just . . huh. I trailed off. This was a really useless train of thought, Nell.
I definitely didn't mind the walk, though. The city here was beautiful. Even the apartment Momma had found shun with this rustic Japanese charm and brought out this nostalgia of a time I had never lived through. There were red and black tiled roofs, the walls were white and picturesque, fences tall and--inviting?--and the porches of other apartment complexes covered in fairy lanterns and charms. The sun was shining, and though a car would whiz by every minute or so, it didn't disturb the natural quaint and peace of the area.
There was a group of people some fifty feet ahead of me, heading the same way I was. I had only been in Nomizu for a week, but I'd walked the path to the high school a couple of times, so I was pretty confident in my assumption. Besides, it looked like they were wearing backpacks. Should I catch up to them . . ?
[ ] Run and catch up to the group. You can never start making friends too early.
[ ] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
==
It didn't take too long for me to arrive at the schoolyard and head in through the gates. There were a lot of people here, spread throughout the schoolyard; people sitting down and talking to eachother in the grass, people on sculpted rock benches just off the pathways, even a few people playing tennis on a small court in the distance. It was overwhelming to watch . .
Then I smiled. Huh. I guess it wasn't so different from America. A girl had just gotten hit in the face with a tennis ball and was now trying to jump the net, swinging her racket widely at the perpetrator. Yeah. Not so different. It was just high school.
The school bell began to ring. All around, people started lazily getting up and lining in front of the school doors. There were ten rows of people before the doors, and I could see an elderly woman way at the front calling something out. It took me a second, but--these were probably gradelines, split by gender. I hurried to the Junior line . . well, what I hoped was the Junior line . . and waited. Somehow, I wasn't the last person in line.
A short girl with a floppy, tall brown bun ended up behind me, rubbing her knuckles against her left cheek and yawning. Then she raised an eyebrow at me. I realized I was staring, shook my head and turned away from the girl. She yawned, loudly, and I glanced back from the headmistress? I think? who was giving her speech to the brunette. She was doing something with her hands, but I couldn't--wait. I blinked. That was a gangsign. She was flashing me with a Bloods gang sign? Wha . . what?
It was gone as soon as I realized what it was. She winked at me. I was staring again. She pointed to the front and I blinked, before quickly turning back around to face the headmistress.
I really wish I could've paid attention to what she was saying, but she was talking too fast and I couldn't read her face for cues. I got some of it, I think, but my Japanese just wasn't good enough to understand the majority of what she was saying, and while I did feel a little good at the words I did understand . . it was trying to make sense of the white noise between TV stations. It just drove me mad. My gaze drifted away from her and I started glancing over the people around me.
Bloods-girl was behind me. To my right was a junior guy who had something in his ears. Earbuds, though I didn't see the cords. Maybe they were some of those new Apple dongles. I squinted. No. No, those were just ear plugs. I looked away from the tall ear plugs-boy to the guy on my left. Presumably an underclassmen, I noticed his pocket was overflowing with pencils and other school junk. I blinked. He didn't have a backpack on, or any school bag that I could see. His other pocket had a calculator halfway flopped out of it, and I could see his backpockets were also loaded with school supplies. I couldn't help but frown. That did not look like a comfortable situation.
As I was taking notice of the school supplies in his back pockets, he looked over at me. I didn't notice at first, until I had looked away from the collection of erasers, pens and other junk and back at his face. His face had blushed and turned to an awful shade of red. Mine did too and I hurriedly looked away to the only person I hadn't really looked at. The girl in front of me. She was tall. Way tall. The tall guy with the ear plugs was like 180cm. She was closer to 190. Her bag, a burgundy sack that fell down and covered her back, glinted with small buttons that had been sown onto it. Wait. The buttons were in English. I smiled as I read through them.
Question Reality! I'd Ship It! Kennedy '68! Another button that was just a corgi's face. The Japanese flag. One in French that I didn't recognize.
I looked up from the backpack and glanced at the girl's hair. She had a strawberry blonde pixie cut, and I could see a little bit of black ink on the nape of her neck? Okay. Committed to memory. She probably spoke English. If I needed help later, she was probably one of the better options to go and find. Oh! She was walking now. I started too. Suddenly we were all inside, and people were dispersing and I very quickly realized I had nowhere to go. Um. . .
The headmistress was still outside. I could follow after one of the people who I had seen earlier and hope that they led me to the right place? Or I could catch up to one and ask for help, maybe? Both the junior girls seemed like they'd know English. .
[ ] Follow after Bloods-girl!
[ ] Follow after Buttons-girl!
[ ] Follow after Supplies-boy!
[ ] Follow after Ear plugs-boy!
[ ] Wait for the Headmistress. . .
===============Then I smiled. Huh. I guess it wasn't so different from America. A girl had just gotten hit in the face with a tennis ball and was now trying to jump the net, swinging her racket widely at the perpetrator. Yeah. Not so different. It was just high school.
The school bell began to ring. All around, people started lazily getting up and lining in front of the school doors. There were ten rows of people before the doors, and I could see an elderly woman way at the front calling something out. It took me a second, but--these were probably gradelines, split by gender. I hurried to the Junior line . . well, what I hoped was the Junior line . . and waited. Somehow, I wasn't the last person in line.
A short girl with a floppy, tall brown bun ended up behind me, rubbing her knuckles against her left cheek and yawning. Then she raised an eyebrow at me. I realized I was staring, shook my head and turned away from the girl. She yawned, loudly, and I glanced back from the headmistress? I think? who was giving her speech to the brunette. She was doing something with her hands, but I couldn't--wait. I blinked. That was a gangsign. She was flashing me with a Bloods gang sign? Wha . . what?
It was gone as soon as I realized what it was. She winked at me. I was staring again. She pointed to the front and I blinked, before quickly turning back around to face the headmistress.
I really wish I could've paid attention to what she was saying, but she was talking too fast and I couldn't read her face for cues. I got some of it, I think, but my Japanese just wasn't good enough to understand the majority of what she was saying, and while I did feel a little good at the words I did understand . . it was trying to make sense of the white noise between TV stations. It just drove me mad. My gaze drifted away from her and I started glancing over the people around me.
Bloods-girl was behind me. To my right was a junior guy who had something in his ears. Earbuds, though I didn't see the cords. Maybe they were some of those new Apple dongles. I squinted. No. No, those were just ear plugs. I looked away from the tall ear plugs-boy to the guy on my left. Presumably an underclassmen, I noticed his pocket was overflowing with pencils and other school junk. I blinked. He didn't have a backpack on, or any school bag that I could see. His other pocket had a calculator halfway flopped out of it, and I could see his backpockets were also loaded with school supplies. I couldn't help but frown. That did not look like a comfortable situation.
As I was taking notice of the school supplies in his back pockets, he looked over at me. I didn't notice at first, until I had looked away from the collection of erasers, pens and other junk and back at his face. His face had blushed and turned to an awful shade of red. Mine did too and I hurriedly looked away to the only person I hadn't really looked at. The girl in front of me. She was tall. Way tall. The tall guy with the ear plugs was like 180cm. She was closer to 190. Her bag, a burgundy sack that fell down and covered her back, glinted with small buttons that had been sown onto it. Wait. The buttons were in English. I smiled as I read through them.
Question Reality! I'd Ship It! Kennedy '68! Another button that was just a corgi's face. The Japanese flag. One in French that I didn't recognize.
I looked up from the backpack and glanced at the girl's hair. She had a strawberry blonde pixie cut, and I could see a little bit of black ink on the nape of her neck? Okay. Committed to memory. She probably spoke English. If I needed help later, she was probably one of the better options to go and find. Oh! She was walking now. I started too. Suddenly we were all inside, and people were dispersing and I very quickly realized I had nowhere to go. Um. . .
The headmistress was still outside. I could follow after one of the people who I had seen earlier and hope that they led me to the right place? Or I could catch up to one and ask for help, maybe? Both the junior girls seemed like they'd know English. .
[ ] Follow after Bloods-girl!
[ ] Follow after Buttons-girl!
[ ] Follow after Supplies-boy!
[ ] Follow after Ear plugs-boy!
[ ] Wait for the Headmistress. . .
Will update profile with info on Nellie. Did you want Thompson as her father's last name (which she wouldn't be using frequently, because she took her Momma's last name of Irvine), do you want it as her middle-name or do you want it hyphenated (Thompson-Irvine)?
Hopefully y'all enjoyed the update, if anything seems too ridiculous let me know / if I'm not covering some area in enough details, let me know about that too. Thank you! : )
edit: initial Important NPC info done.
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- Location
- St. Petersburg
[x] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
The supplies boy feels like a kindred spirit. Let's leave him for last.
Don't know enough about names to pick the natural-sounding option. Leaning towards middle name? Frankly, it ended up there because I glanced away when reading the line about character's name. I even missed that she's supposed to be American...
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
The supplies boy feels like a kindred spirit. Let's leave him for last.
Don't know enough about names to pick the natural-sounding option. Leaning towards middle name? Frankly, it ended up there because I glanced away when reading the line about character's name. I even missed that she's supposed to be American...
Last edited:
- Location
- Somewhere
[x] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
[X] Wait for the Headmistress. . .
[X] Wait for the Headmistress. . .
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
Don't know enough about names to pick the natural-sounding option. Leaning towards middle name? Frankly, it ended up there because I glanced away when reading the line about character's name. I even missed that she's supposed to be American...
Oh okay! Well, don't worry about it -- I probably should've made it a bigger deal but I was trying to leave the vote area somewhat slim. Right now I'm using Thompson as the Dad's last name / her legal last name, but if you'd prefer I switch it to her middle name, I can certainly do so!
Will hopefully do another few updates today, but I'll leave it open for another hour or two first.
[X] Run and catch up to the group. You can never start making friends too early.
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
Opening -- 0.02
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
Winning vote:
[X] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
=======================
As much as I wanted to be caught by the Headmistress looking clueless on the first day of school, and believe me I do, I'd rather . . anything else in the world, really. I catch sight of a bun flopping and hurry on after it, and as luck would have it I manage to merge back into the crowd and blend back in. No lectures today.
I catch up with her and she turns, glancing at me. Then she shrugs and turns back to walking, letting me fall into step next to her. Alright. Progress. At least I looked like I knew where I was going now. Which I probably should have . . figured out already. But. That's the past.
"My name Rika. Great pleasure to know you." I blink and turn over to the brunette. Rika. I turn over to Rika. Broken as it is, hearing her speak in English is refreshing. She's looking at me expectantly, and now a little worriedly, and ohgosh I'm just staring and haven't responded yet--
"Hi! Hi. Hi, Rika." I stammer. Stammering is not a good look. Okay. Breathe, Nell. My tone softens. My words lengthen. Calmness. I reply in Japanese. "It's nice to meet you, Rika." Her eyes are doing that thing where they start to squint, but don't quite squint yet, and it's all the worse for it and ohgosh what did I forget to say this time--"Oh! Oh. My name's Nellie, but my friends call me Nell. Call me Nell. Sorry. Long day."
Long day? It's not even 8:00 . . Rika yawns and then nods. "Yeah. Long day." We're coming to a stop now. A lot of the other students are in class already, but there's still some huddled around lockers or talking outside of classrooms. There's probably another minute or so before class begins. "Homeroom 213 or 217?"
Oh. Wait. I remember Momma talking about that now. "217," I reply. She points me to a room down the hallway.
"Okay. You'll have homeroom with Fukunaga. She's weird, but you're weird too, so she'll probably like you. Ask her to look up your schedule for you." I nod. Okay. This is all reasonable.
I start to thank Rika and she's already halfway gone to her classroom. I call out "thank you!" after her, and she flashes me a thumbs up in resp--No. Nope. That's not a thumbs up. She had a little trouble, but I can now clearly tell that's a Crip symbol. And this girl was calling me weird?
I hurry over to Room 217, and as I step in, I hear the school bell starting to ring again. Great! I'm not completely late. There aren't many open chairs in here. If I hadn't gotten here so late, I probably could've sat by that super tall girl, but with all my delay it looks like I'm going to be sitting in the front. I grab a seat in the front as soon as I can, turning an awkward red as I realize everyone's eyes are on me.
A minute passes, and I realize there's no teacher in the room yet. Some people in the back are starting to talk quietly. I glance around. I'm sitting between a girl on my right and a guy on my left. The girl has just over shoulder-length viridian green hair and is tapping away at her cellphone. I . . I've never met someone who green hair has suited as much as it suited her, honestly. It looked almost natural on her. Her eyebrows, too, they had this green tinge to them. I looked away before it could be considered staring and took note of the boy on my left.
He instantly reminded me of Gale a few years ago. He had that chubby-fit look to him and that aimless stare in his eyes, had his chin resting on his palm like he was some sort of Greek philosopher and smelled vague enough that it was off putting. Donald Trump could walk in front of him and I doubt he'd notice. I sighed and slumped a little bit in my chair. Okay. Homeroom. High school. I had, in the excitement and the rush of getting here, forgotten how mind numbingly boring this place was.
The next two or three minutes dragged on in front of me. I glanced behind me and saw a messy bob of black hair sleeping on the desk behind me. Further in the back, tall-girl was talking with an athletic-looking girl sitting next to her. Wait. The girl sitting next to tall-girl had a black eye. I really wish I knew what there names were. Black-eye-girl must be the girl who was playing tennis earlier. Probably . . or maybe there's just more violence here then there was back home. I shivered. That's a scary thought. Ever since the election, it had gotten . . bad . . down where I lived. Part of the reason why Momma agreed to move overseas. Well, that and the whole Dad thing. Mostly the Dad thing, I guess.
Oh. I guess--now was basically freetime, at least until the teacher got here. I slid my phone out of my pocket. Lilly's probably worried sick. I've barely texted her at all these past few days because of how anxious school has been getting me. I should . .
[ ] Snapchat her. Our friendship may be strained, but our streak numbers will not be!
[ ] Send her a text.
-[ ] Write in text. Limit 80 characters.
[ ] Wait for a better time. Class could start at any minute, after all.
[X] Keep the slow pace. It's important to enjoy the little things in life.
[X] Follow after Bloods-girl!
=======================
As much as I wanted to be caught by the Headmistress looking clueless on the first day of school, and believe me I do, I'd rather . . anything else in the world, really. I catch sight of a bun flopping and hurry on after it, and as luck would have it I manage to merge back into the crowd and blend back in. No lectures today.
I catch up with her and she turns, glancing at me. Then she shrugs and turns back to walking, letting me fall into step next to her. Alright. Progress. At least I looked like I knew where I was going now. Which I probably should have . . figured out already. But. That's the past.
"My name Rika. Great pleasure to know you." I blink and turn over to the brunette. Rika. I turn over to Rika. Broken as it is, hearing her speak in English is refreshing. She's looking at me expectantly, and now a little worriedly, and ohgosh I'm just staring and haven't responded yet--
"Hi! Hi. Hi, Rika." I stammer. Stammering is not a good look. Okay. Breathe, Nell. My tone softens. My words lengthen. Calmness. I reply in Japanese. "It's nice to meet you, Rika." Her eyes are doing that thing where they start to squint, but don't quite squint yet, and it's all the worse for it and ohgosh what did I forget to say this time--"Oh! Oh. My name's Nellie, but my friends call me Nell. Call me Nell. Sorry. Long day."
Long day? It's not even 8:00 . . Rika yawns and then nods. "Yeah. Long day." We're coming to a stop now. A lot of the other students are in class already, but there's still some huddled around lockers or talking outside of classrooms. There's probably another minute or so before class begins. "Homeroom 213 or 217?"
Oh. Wait. I remember Momma talking about that now. "217," I reply. She points me to a room down the hallway.
"Okay. You'll have homeroom with Fukunaga. She's weird, but you're weird too, so she'll probably like you. Ask her to look up your schedule for you." I nod. Okay. This is all reasonable.
I start to thank Rika and she's already halfway gone to her classroom. I call out "thank you!" after her, and she flashes me a thumbs up in resp--No. Nope. That's not a thumbs up. She had a little trouble, but I can now clearly tell that's a Crip symbol. And this girl was calling me weird?
I hurry over to Room 217, and as I step in, I hear the school bell starting to ring again. Great! I'm not completely late. There aren't many open chairs in here. If I hadn't gotten here so late, I probably could've sat by that super tall girl, but with all my delay it looks like I'm going to be sitting in the front. I grab a seat in the front as soon as I can, turning an awkward red as I realize everyone's eyes are on me.
A minute passes, and I realize there's no teacher in the room yet. Some people in the back are starting to talk quietly. I glance around. I'm sitting between a girl on my right and a guy on my left. The girl has just over shoulder-length viridian green hair and is tapping away at her cellphone. I . . I've never met someone who green hair has suited as much as it suited her, honestly. It looked almost natural on her. Her eyebrows, too, they had this green tinge to them. I looked away before it could be considered staring and took note of the boy on my left.
He instantly reminded me of Gale a few years ago. He had that chubby-fit look to him and that aimless stare in his eyes, had his chin resting on his palm like he was some sort of Greek philosopher and smelled vague enough that it was off putting. Donald Trump could walk in front of him and I doubt he'd notice. I sighed and slumped a little bit in my chair. Okay. Homeroom. High school. I had, in the excitement and the rush of getting here, forgotten how mind numbingly boring this place was.
The next two or three minutes dragged on in front of me. I glanced behind me and saw a messy bob of black hair sleeping on the desk behind me. Further in the back, tall-girl was talking with an athletic-looking girl sitting next to her. Wait. The girl sitting next to tall-girl had a black eye. I really wish I knew what there names were. Black-eye-girl must be the girl who was playing tennis earlier. Probably . . or maybe there's just more violence here then there was back home. I shivered. That's a scary thought. Ever since the election, it had gotten . . bad . . down where I lived. Part of the reason why Momma agreed to move overseas. Well, that and the whole Dad thing. Mostly the Dad thing, I guess.
Oh. I guess--now was basically freetime, at least until the teacher got here. I slid my phone out of my pocket. Lilly's probably worried sick. I've barely texted her at all these past few days because of how anxious school has been getting me. I should . .
[ ] Snapchat her. Our friendship may be strained, but our streak numbers will not be!
[ ] Send her a text.
-[ ] Write in text. Limit 80 characters.
[ ] Wait for a better time. Class could start at any minute, after all.
. . .
Finally, I hear something other than the voices of the girls in the back. Heels on stone. Miss Fukunaga, or at least, who I assumed was Miss Fukunaga, was standing in the door. A short woman with two long blonde braids, a peppy smile and a blue handkerchief around her neck, she entered with a wave and a call. "Ah! A good morn and a good morning to all of you, my wonderful class of 2018! Wait-- what's that!"
With an exaggerated and dramatic step, she moves forward into the classroom, sniffing the air. "Ah! It is only the smell of success, coming forth from all of you!" Then, she shields her eyes and darts behind her desk.
"Oh, but what is that! What shines so bright that I dare not look forth?" Dramatic pause. "Oh! It is but the bright light of your future, pouring forth upon me!" She removes her hand from her eyes and oh my god those are sunglasses--
She is in front of me. "Oh, but who is this! A star, but not the star of the Rising Sun! Come forward, western star, and sparkle for class to see." Her hand is reaching out to me. The worried look on my face tells her all she needs to know, and she pulls back.
"Ah! No, no, my mistake. I should not seperate you all from your peers. For today, you are not where you came from! You are not your family," she makes eye-contact with someone in the back, "nor are you your techno-whatsits! You are not your height, nor your wounds, nor your past mistakes or even your greatest failures. Today, and everyday here in our great school, you are all my beautiful pupils, and you are all welcome to come forward to partake from the bountiful bosom of knowledge." She's sitting on her table now, pushing her sunglasses off of her eyes and into her blonde hair. She winks at me. At the class, maybe? Hopefully not just at me.
"My name is Hana Fukunaga, and it is truly wonderful to meet all of you today. I won't make you come forward and do icebreakers like your teachers of the past might, but I would deeply and truly love to come to know each and one of you students. At your own pace, please come forward to introduce yourself to me so that I can mark you down for roll call. I trust that you can all come forward as volunteers in an orderly fashion, but if you can't, well. ."
Suddenly, the kindness on her face was gone. The lights in the room seemed to go dark. She smiled at us all with bloodstained teeth and I could see the white rings beneath her eyes.
". . well . . then that's okay too!" The room was back to normal. I shuddered. Being that this was the first day of school and a homeroom, and that it didn't look like miss Fukunaga was going to be doing any major introduction, it looked like I had some free time available for me. I could try to introduce to someone else in the room, I could text Lilly or Gale . . at some point, I'd need to go forward and talk with Fukunaga about my schedule too.
What do I do . . ?
==============
Choose up to four options for this one, preferably in order of how you want to do them. Unless you choose to talk with her earlier, you'll talk with Miss Fukunaga as the class ends.
[ ] Introduce myself to . . .
-[ ] Tall-girl
-[ ] Black-eye-girl
-[ ] Gale's clone
-[ ] The girl on my right
-[ ] Miss Fukunaga
-[ ] Write-in
[ ] Text someone
-[ ] Gale
-[ ] Lilly
-[ ] Momma
-[ ] Write-in. Another friend from home, maybe?
[ ] Take a nap. This counts as all of your options.
[ ] Write-in. Ask about your write-in and I'll say how many of the four options it counts as.
=======
Unsure of how well this one came out. Some of the characters are meant to be over-the-top, but I might have overdone it a little bit. As always, thanks for reading! : )
edit: NPC lists updated also!
With an exaggerated and dramatic step, she moves forward into the classroom, sniffing the air. "Ah! It is only the smell of success, coming forth from all of you!" Then, she shields her eyes and darts behind her desk.
"Oh, but what is that! What shines so bright that I dare not look forth?" Dramatic pause. "Oh! It is but the bright light of your future, pouring forth upon me!" She removes her hand from her eyes and oh my god those are sunglasses--
She is in front of me. "Oh, but who is this! A star, but not the star of the Rising Sun! Come forward, western star, and sparkle for class to see." Her hand is reaching out to me. The worried look on my face tells her all she needs to know, and she pulls back.
"Ah! No, no, my mistake. I should not seperate you all from your peers. For today, you are not where you came from! You are not your family," she makes eye-contact with someone in the back, "nor are you your techno-whatsits! You are not your height, nor your wounds, nor your past mistakes or even your greatest failures. Today, and everyday here in our great school, you are all my beautiful pupils, and you are all welcome to come forward to partake from the bountiful bosom of knowledge." She's sitting on her table now, pushing her sunglasses off of her eyes and into her blonde hair. She winks at me. At the class, maybe? Hopefully not just at me.
"My name is Hana Fukunaga, and it is truly wonderful to meet all of you today. I won't make you come forward and do icebreakers like your teachers of the past might, but I would deeply and truly love to come to know each and one of you students. At your own pace, please come forward to introduce yourself to me so that I can mark you down for roll call. I trust that you can all come forward as volunteers in an orderly fashion, but if you can't, well. ."
Suddenly, the kindness on her face was gone. The lights in the room seemed to go dark. She smiled at us all with bloodstained teeth and I could see the white rings beneath her eyes.
". . well . . then that's okay too!" The room was back to normal. I shuddered. Being that this was the first day of school and a homeroom, and that it didn't look like miss Fukunaga was going to be doing any major introduction, it looked like I had some free time available for me. I could try to introduce to someone else in the room, I could text Lilly or Gale . . at some point, I'd need to go forward and talk with Fukunaga about my schedule too.
What do I do . . ?
==============
Choose up to four options for this one, preferably in order of how you want to do them. Unless you choose to talk with her earlier, you'll talk with Miss Fukunaga as the class ends.
[ ] Introduce myself to . . .
-[ ] Tall-girl
-[ ] Black-eye-girl
-[ ] Gale's clone
-[ ] The girl on my right
-[ ] Miss Fukunaga
-[ ] Write-in
[ ] Text someone
-[ ] Gale
-[ ] Lilly
-[ ] Momma
-[ ] Write-in. Another friend from home, maybe?
[ ] Take a nap. This counts as all of your options.
[ ] Write-in. Ask about your write-in and I'll say how many of the four options it counts as.
=======
Unsure of how well this one came out. Some of the characters are meant to be over-the-top, but I might have overdone it a little bit. As always, thanks for reading! : )
edit: NPC lists updated also!
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- Location
- St. Petersburg
That depends. How normal is it for a 17 years old girl to tell one gang sign from the other?
[x] Snapchat her. Our friendship may be strained, but our streak numbers will not be!
[x] Introduce myself to . . .
-[x] Gale's clone
[x] Text someone
-[x] Gale
Does he know he has a long-lost brother?
[x] Introduce myself to . . .
-[x] Tall-girl
Last edited:
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
You know, you're entirely right.
Although, really, once you've seen them once or twice, it's hard to forget what they look like. Nell might also have a reason to know the difference that may or may not become relevant later on.Relevant question from crosspost on spacebattles, posting here as well.Sword_in_time said:
Around a month, and she's learned Japanese beforehand. Nell has conversational fluency, but it helps if she's able to see the speaker's face / she sometimes has to ask people to slow down.
Last edited:
- Location
- Somewhere
[x] Snapchat her. Our friendship may be strained, but our streak numbers will not be!
[x] Introduce myself to . . .
-[x] Miss Fukunaga
-[x] Tall-girl
-[x] Black-eye-girl
-[x] Gale's clone
[x] Introduce myself to . . .
-[x] Miss Fukunaga
-[x] Tall-girl
-[x] Black-eye-girl
-[x] Gale's clone
Opening -- 0.03
- Location
- the point is of no return and you have reached it!
Winning votes:
> Snapchat (x4)
> Tall girl (x5)
> Black-eye girl (x4)
> Gale's clone (x4)
> Girl on my right (x3)
==================
I pull my phone out, prop it up in front of me and take a quick selfie. A few flicks through the filters later, I've found one for the town. Sure, it was in Japanese and Lilly wouldn't be able to read it, but . . that's fine, right? She'll get the picture. I send it to her and Gale then put my phone away.
It doesn't look like anyone around me really cared that I was on my phone, though for a second I thought I saw the girl next to me take her eyes off of her phone to look at me and mine. But, seeing how she's practically glued to hers again, that was probably just a trick of the light.
I yawn and slouch a little bit more in my chair. Well. Back to waiting. . .
> Snapchat (x4)
> Tall girl (x5)
> Black-eye girl (x4)
> Gale's clone (x4)
> Girl on my right (x3)
==================
I pull my phone out, prop it up in front of me and take a quick selfie. A few flicks through the filters later, I've found one for the town. Sure, it was in Japanese and Lilly wouldn't be able to read it, but . . that's fine, right? She'll get the picture. I send it to her and Gale then put my phone away.
It doesn't look like anyone around me really cared that I was on my phone, though for a second I thought I saw the girl next to me take her eyes off of her phone to look at me and mine. But, seeing how she's practically glued to hers again, that was probably just a trick of the light.
I yawn and slouch a little bit more in my chair. Well. Back to waiting. . .
==
With Miss Fukunaga finished and taking a seat at her desk rather than on her desk, I glance around the room again. A lot more students have their phones out now. A few have taken out some books and are starting to read those. In the back of the room, black-eye-girl has pulled out a tennis ball and is spinning it between her fingers. Okay. Well, I guess that settles that.
Deciding that I should really go and introduce myself to some people in the room, I head to the back corner of the room where tall-girl and black-eye were sitting. The two of them stop as I approach, and for a moment I stop to, before blushing a little before continuing over towards them. Tall-girl leans back, while black-eye pops the tennis ball back into her bag.
"Hi," I start, smiling at the two of them. Black-eye is bored. Tall-girl is giving me a chance, but she's bored too. Just introducing myself probably won't work. "I, uhm, saw the buttons on your bag! The ones in English. Pretty cool!" Okay. Bad start. They're still looking at me like I'm an alien. Which is okay. Aliens are interesting at least. They haven't decided I'm not worth acknowledging yet. "And, uh, I just wanted to introduce myself. Since I thought, well, you speak English, Americans speak English, I'm American, I speak English--"
"Stop." Tall-girl cuts me off and narrows her eyes. "I'm going to give you some free advice, just this one time, because I can tell you need it. It's in your best interest that you forget you ever lived in that shit-hole of a country and start licking the boots of some real people. Find yourself some idiots to suck Japanese culture off of until you're passable as some weird shut in." She was going to keep going, but black-eye girl cuts her off.
"Kaida . . a little easy with the newgirl, alright? It's not her fault-" Her interjection, too, is cut off. Tall-girl's face twists into a snarl.
"Not her fault? I don't care if it's not her fault. It's not the Hitler Youth's fault that Hitler's in office, doesn't make them better people for following along with it." She pulls a hand up to her hair and flicks it back behind her head. "But yeah. Americana. You'd better take my advice. Stop with this American-nonsense. I'm not the only one here who knows people that've died from your leader's idiocies." It's clear that Kaida is censoring herself to some level now. If black-eye hadn't interjected, she probably would've actually went off on me. I shudder a little bit.
Kaida is looking away now, and I move away from the table quickly, trying to hold in all of my emotions. I don't know what I did to deserve any of that . . there's a hand on my shoulder.
Black-eye is looking at me, with a frown on her lips. She opens her mouth to say something, then instead hands me a piece of paper. Her phone number is scribbled on the paper. I look at her again and she's trying to force a smile. "I'm sorry," she mouths, then heads back to her seat next to Kaida.
I crumple the piece of paper and pocket it, going to sit down at the front of the class again. Fuck . . today had been going so well, to. All the color was surely gone from my face. Anyone who saw me might mistake me for a banshee, might mistake my voice for a cry or deathknell. Why did she have to say those things? Today had been a good day. But now, sitting here, when I had just wanted to introduce myself and come into this new world . .
I just wish I could leave. Go home. Call Lilly. Cry . . anything that wasn't here. Anything not this. Why was this affecting me so much? She was mean, but people have said worse things to me before and it hasn't hurt this much. I didn't know her. I didn't agree to let her decide my emotions. I didn't agree to let her tear me down like this.
I close my eyes to hold in tears and sniffle. I rub my knuckles against my nose. I wish I was wearing a coat so that I could slink inside of it and be safe from what was going on around me. I wish I was home. I wish I was dead. Anything that meant that I wasn't here. My breathing is a little choked. I'm going to make a scene soon if I don't get this under control. I just . . I . .
"Kojii." The voice pulls me out of my stupor.
I look to its source on my left. Gale's clown is offering me his right hand, while his left hand pushes some of his scruff and bangs away from his eyes. He tries to smile at me, and although the expression is a little creepy, I'll take it. I grab his hand and go to shake it, but he squeezes instead and then lets my hand go. Confused, I start to pull my hand back.
Kojii is staring at me now and not really saying anything. I can tell he's deep in thought. After a moment, I start to speak--"Hi. Um. Nellie, but most people call me Nell."
As I speak, he speaks. His accent is awful, but his attempt at English at all is applaudable. "Wazzup!" Okay, maybe not applaudable . .
He throws his chin back and gives me his largest, goofiest grin. Then he throws in a peace sign for good measure. I wipe my eyes and try to smile back, but . . all his attempt at English did was remind me of the tall-girl--Kaida--and her words. His grin goes back into a frown.
"Oh . . erm, it's a reference to this old American movie. You might not have heard of it, I guess, it's more of a niche film but the artistry in it is on point. The next generations will probably venerate it as a classic of American horror." He's starting to talk too fast now. I'm trying to keep up, to focus on something other than Kaida's words. "It really does a good job of briding the gaps between genres. The way that the Mr. Wayans effortlessly creates a classic is admirable. When I'm older, I want to be a director too. That's why I'm head of the film club here on campus. Which you'll join, right?"
He doesn't give me time to respond. "It's faaascinating. We watch classic like Mr. Wayans all the time. Oh! I should tell you the name of the movie, right? That'd help. I'm sure you'll remember it when you hear the title. It is definitely one of the archetypal American horror stories that really sets the stage for every future work. Honestly, most horror films of the 21st century are best understood as derivatives of Wayans' genius. I'm rambling, aren't I?"
Again. There's no time for me to respond. "Okay. Okay. I'll get to the chase. This classic is from Scary Movie which is a must-see to understand the genres of slasher, horror and comedy flicks in America. I'm surprised a girl your age hasn't seen it yet, though I suppose you would've been born just after it originally came out. I guess I'm sort of a hipster for liking such an old movie. But it's truly a classic. If you haven't seen it sometime, I am definitely willing to lend you it. It is a God-given right to watch good films like that one."
I open my mouth to respond, but he's talking again. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'm forgetting to explain the scene. Right. Well. Ghostface, who is the bad guy, who is like a big dude in a black cloak with a ghost face, which I guess is why they call him Ghostface, it'd be, uh, confusing if they called him the Engineer or something. Oh! Right. The Engineer, is, uh, another amazing villian, from the Hellraiser franchise, which has so many movies and they're all so good. Which, I guess, I don't know why they call him the Engineer when he doesn't really do any engineering, something like the Puzzler might've been more in line with what he does as a character but anyway yeah so Ghostface is chasing this girl named Cindy,"
I can't follow him anymore. At all. He's talking too fast and his words are slurring a bit and I don't know what is going on. Something has sucked the soul out of me and left a stupid husk here today, unable to do anything right, unable to make any real friends, and I just wish it was over.
"Well, anyway, the scene that I'm referencing has Ghostface making a phone call to this black dude. And while they're on the phone call, making small chat and whatever, this other dude walks into the room and he just belts out WAZZUP! And it's, hey, it's really funny, and other people just start calling it out too, and then everybody's just calling out wazzup--"
Finally, someone interrupts him. "Kojii, nobody cares." The voice is from my right. I slide back in my chair so that Kojii and the girl can see each other. Hopefully they'll talk to each other and I can melt away.
"Hey--hey! Nellie cares! She loves American film, right, Nellie?" He's looking at me for approval now. I just wish I was anywhere other than here.
The girl on my right glances at me. "Don't let this kid pull you into his fantasy world. I might not know you very well, but I know that you don't want that." The look of concern on her face seems genuine.
I . . .
[ ] I side with Kojii. I can't keep up with everything he's saying, but it's definitely interesting to me.
[ ] I side with the other girl. If I'm going to let myself be bossed around, it's going to be by someone other than Kojii.
Deciding that I should really go and introduce myself to some people in the room, I head to the back corner of the room where tall-girl and black-eye were sitting. The two of them stop as I approach, and for a moment I stop to, before blushing a little before continuing over towards them. Tall-girl leans back, while black-eye pops the tennis ball back into her bag.
"Hi," I start, smiling at the two of them. Black-eye is bored. Tall-girl is giving me a chance, but she's bored too. Just introducing myself probably won't work. "I, uhm, saw the buttons on your bag! The ones in English. Pretty cool!" Okay. Bad start. They're still looking at me like I'm an alien. Which is okay. Aliens are interesting at least. They haven't decided I'm not worth acknowledging yet. "And, uh, I just wanted to introduce myself. Since I thought, well, you speak English, Americans speak English, I'm American, I speak English--"
"Stop." Tall-girl cuts me off and narrows her eyes. "I'm going to give you some free advice, just this one time, because I can tell you need it. It's in your best interest that you forget you ever lived in that shit-hole of a country and start licking the boots of some real people. Find yourself some idiots to suck Japanese culture off of until you're passable as some weird shut in." She was going to keep going, but black-eye girl cuts her off.
"Kaida . . a little easy with the newgirl, alright? It's not her fault-" Her interjection, too, is cut off. Tall-girl's face twists into a snarl.
"Not her fault? I don't care if it's not her fault. It's not the Hitler Youth's fault that Hitler's in office, doesn't make them better people for following along with it." She pulls a hand up to her hair and flicks it back behind her head. "But yeah. Americana. You'd better take my advice. Stop with this American-nonsense. I'm not the only one here who knows people that've died from your leader's idiocies." It's clear that Kaida is censoring herself to some level now. If black-eye hadn't interjected, she probably would've actually went off on me. I shudder a little bit.
Kaida is looking away now, and I move away from the table quickly, trying to hold in all of my emotions. I don't know what I did to deserve any of that . . there's a hand on my shoulder.
Black-eye is looking at me, with a frown on her lips. She opens her mouth to say something, then instead hands me a piece of paper. Her phone number is scribbled on the paper. I look at her again and she's trying to force a smile. "I'm sorry," she mouths, then heads back to her seat next to Kaida.
I crumple the piece of paper and pocket it, going to sit down at the front of the class again. Fuck . . today had been going so well, to. All the color was surely gone from my face. Anyone who saw me might mistake me for a banshee, might mistake my voice for a cry or deathknell. Why did she have to say those things? Today had been a good day. But now, sitting here, when I had just wanted to introduce myself and come into this new world . .
I just wish I could leave. Go home. Call Lilly. Cry . . anything that wasn't here. Anything not this. Why was this affecting me so much? She was mean, but people have said worse things to me before and it hasn't hurt this much. I didn't know her. I didn't agree to let her decide my emotions. I didn't agree to let her tear me down like this.
I close my eyes to hold in tears and sniffle. I rub my knuckles against my nose. I wish I was wearing a coat so that I could slink inside of it and be safe from what was going on around me. I wish I was home. I wish I was dead. Anything that meant that I wasn't here. My breathing is a little choked. I'm going to make a scene soon if I don't get this under control. I just . . I . .
"Kojii." The voice pulls me out of my stupor.
I look to its source on my left. Gale's clown is offering me his right hand, while his left hand pushes some of his scruff and bangs away from his eyes. He tries to smile at me, and although the expression is a little creepy, I'll take it. I grab his hand and go to shake it, but he squeezes instead and then lets my hand go. Confused, I start to pull my hand back.
Kojii is staring at me now and not really saying anything. I can tell he's deep in thought. After a moment, I start to speak--"Hi. Um. Nellie, but most people call me Nell."
As I speak, he speaks. His accent is awful, but his attempt at English at all is applaudable. "Wazzup!" Okay, maybe not applaudable . .
He throws his chin back and gives me his largest, goofiest grin. Then he throws in a peace sign for good measure. I wipe my eyes and try to smile back, but . . all his attempt at English did was remind me of the tall-girl--Kaida--and her words. His grin goes back into a frown.
"Oh . . erm, it's a reference to this old American movie. You might not have heard of it, I guess, it's more of a niche film but the artistry in it is on point. The next generations will probably venerate it as a classic of American horror." He's starting to talk too fast now. I'm trying to keep up, to focus on something other than Kaida's words. "It really does a good job of briding the gaps between genres. The way that the Mr. Wayans effortlessly creates a classic is admirable. When I'm older, I want to be a director too. That's why I'm head of the film club here on campus. Which you'll join, right?"
He doesn't give me time to respond. "It's faaascinating. We watch classic like Mr. Wayans all the time. Oh! I should tell you the name of the movie, right? That'd help. I'm sure you'll remember it when you hear the title. It is definitely one of the archetypal American horror stories that really sets the stage for every future work. Honestly, most horror films of the 21st century are best understood as derivatives of Wayans' genius. I'm rambling, aren't I?"
Again. There's no time for me to respond. "Okay. Okay. I'll get to the chase. This classic is from Scary Movie which is a must-see to understand the genres of slasher, horror and comedy flicks in America. I'm surprised a girl your age hasn't seen it yet, though I suppose you would've been born just after it originally came out. I guess I'm sort of a hipster for liking such an old movie. But it's truly a classic. If you haven't seen it sometime, I am definitely willing to lend you it. It is a God-given right to watch good films like that one."
I open my mouth to respond, but he's talking again. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'm forgetting to explain the scene. Right. Well. Ghostface, who is the bad guy, who is like a big dude in a black cloak with a ghost face, which I guess is why they call him Ghostface, it'd be, uh, confusing if they called him the Engineer or something. Oh! Right. The Engineer, is, uh, another amazing villian, from the Hellraiser franchise, which has so many movies and they're all so good. Which, I guess, I don't know why they call him the Engineer when he doesn't really do any engineering, something like the Puzzler might've been more in line with what he does as a character but anyway yeah so Ghostface is chasing this girl named Cindy,"
I can't follow him anymore. At all. He's talking too fast and his words are slurring a bit and I don't know what is going on. Something has sucked the soul out of me and left a stupid husk here today, unable to do anything right, unable to make any real friends, and I just wish it was over.
"Well, anyway, the scene that I'm referencing has Ghostface making a phone call to this black dude. And while they're on the phone call, making small chat and whatever, this other dude walks into the room and he just belts out WAZZUP! And it's, hey, it's really funny, and other people just start calling it out too, and then everybody's just calling out wazzup--"
Finally, someone interrupts him. "Kojii, nobody cares." The voice is from my right. I slide back in my chair so that Kojii and the girl can see each other. Hopefully they'll talk to each other and I can melt away.
"Hey--hey! Nellie cares! She loves American film, right, Nellie?" He's looking at me for approval now. I just wish I was anywhere other than here.
The girl on my right glances at me. "Don't let this kid pull you into his fantasy world. I might not know you very well, but I know that you don't want that." The look of concern on her face seems genuine.
I . . .
[ ] I side with Kojii. I can't keep up with everything he's saying, but it's definitely interesting to me.
[ ] I side with the other girl. If I'm going to let myself be bossed around, it's going to be by someone other than Kojii.
====
Class is about to end. I carefully stand up, walking over from my desk to see Miss Fukunaga. She smiles at me.
"Ah, come forward my shining American star! Welcome, welcome to my class. How do you like the city?"
"It's okay." I don't give her much more than that as a response, still hurting from earlier in the period. She seems to notice something is up and frowns.
"Okay. Today's not your day, hun? That's quite alright. I've got you marked down for attendance. If you ever want to talk, just know that I'm here, okay?" Gone is her flair for the dramatic from earlier. On her face, I read genuine worry and curiosity.
"Schedule," I force out. "I never got my schedule today." She nods and quickly hands me a sheet of paper from her desk, laminated and with all of the room numbers highlighted. She gives me that kind smile of hers again. I feel a little bit better as I head back over to my seat.
Sitting down, I look over my schedule for a moment. My next two classes of the day are . .
Pick two. If you have a preferred order, please say so.
[ ] Literature. God, I'm not looking forward to a literature class in Japanese.
[ ] Biology. I should be able to do this. Momma says they're a year behind in the biology curriculum.
[ ] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
[ ] PhysEd. Well . . at least there's not much talking there, yeah?
[ ] World History. Oh no. Not this, please not this.
[ ] Home Economics. I was looking forward to this class. Learning how to cook might make me closer to Momma.
[ ] Write-in class.
"Ah, come forward my shining American star! Welcome, welcome to my class. How do you like the city?"
"It's okay." I don't give her much more than that as a response, still hurting from earlier in the period. She seems to notice something is up and frowns.
"Okay. Today's not your day, hun? That's quite alright. I've got you marked down for attendance. If you ever want to talk, just know that I'm here, okay?" Gone is her flair for the dramatic from earlier. On her face, I read genuine worry and curiosity.
"Schedule," I force out. "I never got my schedule today." She nods and quickly hands me a sheet of paper from her desk, laminated and with all of the room numbers highlighted. She gives me that kind smile of hers again. I feel a little bit better as I head back over to my seat.
Sitting down, I look over my schedule for a moment. My next two classes of the day are . .
Pick two. If you have a preferred order, please say so.
[ ] Literature. God, I'm not looking forward to a literature class in Japanese.
[ ] Biology. I should be able to do this. Momma says they're a year behind in the biology curriculum.
[ ] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
[ ] PhysEd. Well . . at least there's not much talking there, yeah?
[ ] World History. Oh no. Not this, please not this.
[ ] Home Economics. I was looking forward to this class. Learning how to cook might make me closer to Momma.
[ ] Write-in class.
=====
there's the update! I'm not great at dialogue, so pointers on how to improve dialogue and make people seem more human, while still keeping the exaggerations on their personality, would be appreciated. Will update the NPC profiles with the new information on Black-eye girl, Kaida and Kojii.
As always, if there's any questions about something, feel free to ask me. Thanks for reading! : )
As always, if there's any questions about something, feel free to ask me. Thanks for reading! : )
- Location
- Somewhere
[X] I side with the other girl. If I'm going to let myself be bossed around, it's going to be by someone other than Kojii.
[X] Biology. I should be able to do this. Momma says they're a year behind in the biology curriculum.
[X] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
[X] Biology. I should be able to do this. Momma says they're a year behind in the biology curriculum.
[X] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
- Location
- Portland
[X] I side with Kojii. I can't keep up with everything he's saying, but it's definitely interesting to me.
[X] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
[X] Home Economics. I was looking forward to this class. Learning how to cook might make me closer to Momma.
[X] Physics. Easy A. Hopefully the class itself is interesting, though.
[X] Home Economics. I was looking forward to this class. Learning how to cook might make me closer to Momma.