Rex finds himself bent over papers and enshrined by the sickly scent of ink. His pen has frozen above the next stroke. A bead of sweat pearls at his brow. The clothing is familiar but better preserved, no tatters or insidious rips, and even the wild hair has been tamed into two thick braids of a punishing weight. He has none of the muscle, none of the finesse, none of the nerves of a bona fide superhero. Pity. He could have used them.
He'll turn to face a monitor mounted on the ceiling, cozy next to the surveillance camera. The screen winks and suddenly, he's watching a stuffed bear lean cool in a highbacked chair, swishing wine in one paw like a Bond villain. It's split down the middle, half white and half black. All creep.
"A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like, the class trial will begin!"
His breath will quicken. The pen slips from his fingers. Again? Horror takes a cold hold and the sweat intensifies. His thumb is at the mercy of gnawing teeth. These people are animals. Appalling. How can they allow this to carry on? He's better off never associating with them again. If he locks the door and sits very quietly, maybe he'll get to skip the trial.
Still, should he see who it was? They're all strangers and potential assailants, and his disgust for them is certainly mutual, but there's a chance the victim is...
No. He can't allow that. Heart thudding, he leaps from his seat and scurries to the door. He peers through a thin slit first, making certain the coast is clear, then slithers into the hall.
It's a school, but it's an odd one for sure. As he dashes through the labyrinth and pries open doors, checking for signs of life (or perhaps not, in this case), he's being cast under harsh coloured filters. One hall glows red, another green, then blue and purple. Everywhere there should be window, there's only sheet metal and immovable bolts. And everywhere there should be people, there isn't.
By the time he catches the first squawks of life by the locker rooms, he doesn't even clock the gatling gun guarding the ladies' side. The door's already open and he's a girl to begin with, there'll be no punishment if he slips in now.
"...can't imagine a worse situation than dealing with a stupid murderer..."
And he freezes on the spot. All the air evaporates and sound turns to a blank buzz. "Aah...Aaah!"
That swollen-uddered sea cow is pointing right at him, but he barely notices. All the world has shrunk to a petite girl strung in the air. Blood streaks from her temple. Her arms are splayed and tied between metal poles, leaving her to dangle like a martyr on a cross. Someone's dipped their fingers in her wound and drawn kanji on the wall behind her, supersized for effect. BLOODLUST.
"No...Wh-why? Why?!" If possible, his vision shrinks further. Enhances and blackens at the edges. The body comes at him and splits five ways like a foul turn in a kaleidoscope. A scream rips out, the same question again at double the decibels, and gravity tugs him backwards—
And there's nothing.
But only for a teensy tiny moment. Just a blip in time. "...hear me? Hey, you gotta wake up!"
And he does. He blows off the floor, leaping straight to his feet. His tongue slops out of his mouth and his vision's still blurred, his arms hang loose and his hips list to one side, but the wooziness is fading fast. God, it's always such a pain to come to like this.
"Sorry about that. I was just so shocked, ya know? It happens, right? Was I the only one?" No one answers. They just gape at him like a bunch of brain-dead guppies. Sheesh guys, who died?
Oh! Oh WAIT!
"Whoa! Is that a dead body?! Hey! Are you dead?! Kyahahaha!"
The burnout with the half-assed scruff winces, muttering to the rest. "She musta hit her head real hard when she fainted..."
Ha. What a moron. His limbs may jerk and jolt and his posture may scream Big Screen Fiend, but his mind's as sharp as a tack! "The world has a front and a back, a top inning and a bottom, a sea of truth and web of lies!"
It's hardly his fault the rest of this clown car can't keep up.
The vision spikes. Then fades, like a dizzy spell washing away. Toko's hand has drawn free of his, and she's teetering on her feet.
The tears are streaking down her face. It's an old wound for Rex, but a fresh cut for her. Too fresh, and far too close to home. When she meets his eyes, this time she already knows his name.]
2/2, Danganrona spoilers, CW: death of a minor, if you match word count i'll murder you
Rex finds himself bent over papers and enshrined by the sickly scent of ink. His pen has frozen above the next stroke. A bead of sweat pearls at his brow. The clothing is familiar but better preserved, no tatters or insidious rips, and even the wild hair has been tamed into two thick braids of a punishing weight. He has none of the muscle, none of the finesse, none of the nerves of a bona fide superhero. Pity. He could have used them.
He'll turn to face a monitor mounted on the ceiling, cozy next to the surveillance camera. The screen winks and suddenly, he's watching a stuffed bear lean cool in a highbacked chair, swishing wine in one paw like a Bond villain. It's split down the middle, half white and half black. All creep.
"A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like, the class trial will begin!"
His breath will quicken. The pen slips from his fingers. Again? Horror takes a cold hold and the sweat intensifies. His thumb is at the mercy of gnawing teeth. These people are animals. Appalling. How can they allow this to carry on? He's better off never associating with them again. If he locks the door and sits very quietly, maybe he'll get to skip the trial.
Still, should he see who it was? They're all strangers and potential assailants, and his disgust for them is certainly mutual, but there's a chance the victim is...
No. He can't allow that. Heart thudding, he leaps from his seat and scurries to the door. He peers through a thin slit first, making certain the coast is clear, then slithers into the hall.
It's a school, but it's an odd one for sure. As he dashes through the labyrinth and pries open doors, checking for signs of life (or perhaps not, in this case), he's being cast under harsh coloured filters. One hall glows red, another green, then blue and purple. Everywhere there should be window, there's only sheet metal and immovable bolts. And everywhere there should be people, there isn't.
By the time he catches the first squawks of life by the locker rooms, he doesn't even clock the gatling gun guarding the ladies' side. The door's already open and he's a girl to begin with, there'll be no punishment if he slips in now.
"...can't imagine a worse situation than dealing with a stupid murderer..."
And he freezes on the spot. All the air evaporates and sound turns to a blank buzz. "Aah...Aaah!"
That swollen-uddered sea cow is pointing right at him, but he barely notices. All the world has shrunk to a petite girl strung in the air. Blood streaks from her temple. Her arms are splayed and tied between metal poles, leaving her to dangle like a martyr on a cross. Someone's dipped their fingers in her wound and drawn kanji on the wall behind her, supersized for effect. BLOODLUST.
"No...Wh-why? Why?!" If possible, his vision shrinks further. Enhances and blackens at the edges. The body comes at him and splits five ways like a foul turn in a kaleidoscope. A scream rips out, the same question again at double the decibels, and gravity tugs him backwards—
And there's nothing.
But only for a teensy tiny moment. Just a blip in time. "...hear me? Hey, you gotta wake up!"
And he does. He blows off the floor, leaping straight to his feet. His tongue slops out of his mouth and his vision's still blurred, his arms hang loose and his hips list to one side, but the wooziness is fading fast. God, it's always such a pain to come to like this.
"Sorry about that. I was just so shocked, ya know? It happens, right? Was I the only one?" No one answers. They just gape at him like a bunch of brain-dead guppies. Sheesh guys, who died?
Oh! Oh WAIT!
"Whoa! Is that a dead body?! Hey! Are you dead?! Kyahahaha!"
The burnout with the half-assed scruff winces, muttering to the rest. "She musta hit her head real hard when she fainted..."
Ha. What a moron. His limbs may jerk and jolt and his posture may scream Big Screen Fiend, but his mind's as sharp as a tack! "The world has a front and a back, a top inning and a bottom, a sea of truth and web of lies!"
It's hardly his fault the rest of this clown car can't keep up.
The vision spikes. Then fades, like a dizzy spell washing away. Toko's hand has drawn free of his, and she's teetering on her feet.
The tears are streaking down her face. It's an old wound for Rex, but a fresh cut for her. Too fresh, and far too close to home. When she meets his eyes, this time she already knows his name.]
You...R-Rex?
((Watch here: From 6:14:55-6:16:30))