week 4

[biteys]

WEEK FOUR

road trip!

As the doctor mentioned, the next leg of your trip is quite long, so walking isn't advised; hopefully, you've all secured alternative methods of travel between the abandoned cars and the wild pack of horses you found last week.

These cars are long abandoned, and most of them still have things like CDs and magazines in the gloveboxes and trunks - so at least you’ll have some entertainment for the trip! Conveniently, music you can find comes from the year 2024 and earlier, because in the Turnout universe, CDs were still widely a thing in modern times because I said so.

Be aware that there are not enough cars and horsies for everyone to go solo; you’ll need to group up and decide who’s driving! And, more notably...

Your drive won't be entirely peaceful! There are bound to be some zombies littering the street, which characters will need to clear in order to keep going. Whether that's through running them over, sniping them with your newfound long-range gun skills, or doing it the old fashioned way by hopping out of the car and beating them to a pulp, they've gotta move! Be careful not to let the horseys get bit.

respite

Whether or not you were suspicious of whatever the “SAFE” marked on the map was supposed to mean, when you come to the coordinates that are marked, you’ll be in front of a door that opens down into the earth — it's a bunker. The entrance is slightly hidden by foliage, seemingly intentionally so.

Inside, it’s obvious this place is not like the places you’ve been traveling to thus far. It’s clean, well stocked, and nicely furnished. Judging by the pictures on the wall, it’s a safe house that’s been used many times by Dr. Bei and her five associates. So, it was built by a bunch of super nerds surviving the apocalypse, meaning that it's pretty well fortified and self sufficient. It seems like the Doctor must have been here at least a few weeks ago, judging by the dust levels and quality of the food.

That means there’s clean running (and hot!) water, as well as a freezer that’s stocked up with some raw meat, vegetables, and a rare ice cream treat. Also in the kitchen are some seasonings and other staples: flour, rice, etc. There are cooking utensils too, of course! Characters well versed in cooking may just be able to throw together a nice feast for everyone.

There’s also, you know. Alcohol. Not a ton of mixers, though!

It seems like the nerds had simple things for means of entertainment: there are some party and card games hidden away in drawers — think pictionary, uno and twister, or other such party games. Of course, only your imagination is holding you back: while you have a safe place to rest, it might be easier to let loose and have fun.

The six rooms in the bunker all have one bed and a connected bathroom - each one is identical but decorated with sparse things, like stray trinkets or a picture frame. Only Dr. Bei's really has anything different about it, because in it, there's still a working computer.

Characters will be able to open basic programs like wordpad, MS paint, or iTunes for music purposes. Like everyone who had iTunes, she has U2 songs on there. There's still no internet, but there are some saved messages from her and another colleague using an alternative connection method.

While exploring, characters can discover a chat log between ♛, which appears to be Dr. Bei's display name, and ♝, another user.

Aside from the beds in the six rooms, there are also sofas and armchairs to rest on.

oops all memshare

While within the safe house, your bracelets will start acting strange. It might have to do with being underground, or perhaps just the highly advanced technology at work down here, but at inopportune times, you’ll find your mind linking with other party members’, especially when initiating physical contact.

When connected to another survivor, you may exchange memories, which may come with 1) the physical sensations you felt at the time, 2) the emotions you felt at the time, or 3) the thoughts you had at that time. Players can be creative with this mechanic and have the memshares be like watching a movie, or physically acted out — whichever is your preference. There’s no prerequisite on the type of memory that might accidentally spill over, and characters may share multiple memories with one person.

According to the map's schedule, you have some time to rest your weary feet from the long ride… you’re not scheduled to leave for two or three days. It seems the Doctor might want you to fill up and face the second half of the trip with your most well rested selves. So, why not relax while you can? What’s the worst that could happen???

code

Comments

[venomnom]

[After hitching a ride on the Zombie Crusher 500 with Ninety-Nine at the wheel and exiting the vehicle as necessary to kick some zombies aside, Reiju freshens up at the bunker. As usual, what scrapes she might have sustained during the scuffles in which she's taken part healed not long after the fact, leaving behind unblemished skin. Now she finds herself in the middle of the kitchen, where she stares at the counter, arms folded, with a ruminative look about her.

Eventually she pours herself a glass of something lightly alcoholic and sits with one long leg crossed over the other on an armchair. While she keeps to herself, she flashes a polite smile once someone else settles down in the lounge.]

Have you stocked up? If we're on track, we should be about halfway there.

kitchen!

[insinnerate]

[They had so much fun(?) in the Zombie Crusher 500! The car's a little worse for the wear, and she doubts it'll be able to go much further, but when Ninety-Nine approaches Reiju in the kitchen, she seems very much the same. This must be her indomitable toughness in action. Seeing the evidence of her imperviousness to injury and quick healing piques her curiosity and teases up her hunter's instincts: It's a fascination, willingly or unwillingly.

But Reiju is also acting...weird. Ninety-Nine sets some water bottles on the counter after pulling them from her (now very grimy) S*nrio bag, her head cocked to the side as if she listening for whatever's got her looking so defensive and contemplative.] What's the problem?

[irreversal]

[ When Reiju freshens up, she really means freshen up - she looks good as new, like the day they all arrived here, or at least that's what Shoko thinks. She's done a bit of freshening up, herself, opting to lounge around in some baggier clothes as she strolls into the room with a cold can of beer. ]

Ah, it's Reiju-san. You look this place look like it's a fancy bar or something, ahaha.

[rifare]

[ With fresh ingredients on hand, Leon probably should cook something as someone with at least some skills in the kitchen. Instead after a little deliberation himself, he follows suit with what Reiju did, moving to get a glass and a bottle of a wine...

Before sliding the glass to the back of the counter and just taking the whole goddamn bottle of wine with him to the lounge.

Fuck it. They're in the middle of the apocalypse, and he already had to struggle enough as it was to uncork the bottle with only one non-busted up arm. He's going to messily indulge instead of pretending to be classy as he slumps down onto a slightly less comfortable looking chair.

Mafia bosses have to maintain an air of class and powerful dignity, but he threw away his affiliation with his famiglia awhile back. He's just a guy now, and he can take a very depressing looking drink straight from the bottle if he wants.

He will make a face though, his tastes still refined enough that he's apparently not impressed with this particular vintage. ]

Not yet. We should eat the perishables while we're here though, and save everything we can travel with for when we're back on the road.

crying as i drag my corpse over here, kitchen

[hydrotherapy]

[ Here Reiju is, standing silently in the kitchen as she stares at the counter. And here Sigewinne is, ambling into the kitchen with the intent of preparing dinner (as best she can with her short arms and legs).

Naturally, since the kitchen is a place For Food, the question she directs towards Reiji is About Food. ]

Were you planning on making dinner, Reiju?

memshares on request!! just hmu

[insinnerate]

ia. road trip - the preparation;

[She assumed that people wouldn't want to be locked in a moving hunk of metal with her, so it's a surprise that Ninety-Nine seems have secured a few passengers who are ready to get into one of the (barely) repaired cars with her. There's no way she can get next to a horse, so this is for the best.

Anyone who isn't signed up for Zombie Crusher 500 might get caught by Ninety-Nine before they leave. She might have a jar of water or an extra gun from the dilapidated western town to hand out; the guns might need some fiddling before they work, she she can only do so much.]

I'll try to clear the way. Don't stop unless you have to. [And, still assuming that most of the people have nothing still to say to her or are still suspicious, she will turn to leave just like that.]

ib. road trip - the zombie crusher 500;
(seats available! pipe up in plotting channel if you want to ride along! feel free to to do group car threads here, too)

[Ninety-Nine drives like someone who can drive, who understands the workings of a vehicle and how to make it bend to her will...but not someone who received any particular education in doing so. Like most things she does, it's rough around the edges. Needless to say, this ride is equally rough. The good news? She doesn't care about the center console, so you can fight over the music or the air conditioning with other passengers as much as you want.

That is... until the first pack of zombies that can't be circumnavigated is encountered. She idles for a moment, then cuts the engine so the noise won't alert them.] I can go through, but they'll follow. [We need backup fire.]

iia. respite - the misteak;

[There's food. In the house. A lot of food. Everyone has been struggling with meager supplies, and Ninety-Nine's power burns off more energy than she can reasonably take in with what they have stored.

That's how she ends up trying to cook some of the meat from the freezer, despite having struggled with every cooking lesson she's ever received. It's possible to encounter her with the following: a hunk of red meat, on the stove, on a very high heat. No seasonings. Nothing to help the sear. Possibly also no pan, if you've caught her before she put one on and is instead hanging the fileted portion over the burner like it's a campfire.

Help.]

iib. respite - the left behind;

[Hopefully after she's been helped with having a nice, real meal, Ninety-Nine might be found prowling around the house, investigating what Dr. Bei and her fellows left behind. She pokes at the computer and the games with curious interest, but it's the pictures that get her first actual comment.]

There were more of them. [She doesn't say anything else, but some of her questions are in her voice. Did they separate? Why? Was Dr. Bei the last alive? If they left this place with so much left intact, were things much better then?]

iii. obligatory wildcard;

[Teach Ninety-Nine to play Twister! Make her a drink! Feed her! Just slap me with a comfy safehouse memshare while people are chilling and drinking! Whatever, hit me up.]

iib

[bicth]

[ Hella's cheeks are flush with drink, but only slightly — now that she's had her fill, she's returned to lingering close to Ninety-Nine's side, content to follow her along while they explore. Of all the things here, she expected her to take interest in the pictures of the other scientists the least. ]

Fat lot of good that did them.

[ Hella says, bluntly and a little too loudly, as she rubs at one of her eyes. Her head feels heavy. With a bit of incredulity, like she can't believe it: ]

I mean, they had this awesome place and still couldn't figure things out?

iia

[titlecard]

[ He needs to talk to Ninety-Nine at some point. He knows he needs to talk to Ninety-Nine at some point. Even if Hella hadn't impressed the point on him, he knows. The timing just... hasn't... come up. Hasn't been right. Yeah, that's what it is.

When Mark sees her in the kitchen he almost Homer Simpsons his way back into the metaphorical bushes, but. No. Maybe this is an opening, nice and natural.

So he enters the kitchen, nice and natural. Clears his throat, nice and natural, so she knows someone else is there. And goes rooting through the cupboards, until... ]

Aha. [ Triumphantly holds up a pan. Then holds it out to her. ] You... might want this?

[ Is this okay?? Is he portraying Remorse and Hopeful Friendship right now. ]

iib... mem pwease

[irreversal]

[ Shoko, admittedly, has given Ninety-Nine somewhat of a wide berth after what happened with the teens from the encampment last week. She'd been preoccupied with other matters within the group (😏?)(no) but now that they're in this bunker, there hopefully shouldn't be any external cause for anyone to inflict violence. Or so she hopes. Kotoha and Mark are worrying her, but so are Suzuha and Ninety-Nine, for entirely different reasons...

Regardless, she's making rounds to account for everyone; a force of habit, from being the only somewhat sane student amidst a bunch of teenaged boys with supernatural powers tasked with keeping their world in balance. Then when she finds Ninety-Nine poking at Dr. Bei's computer, she can't help but want to join in, and if she's allowed, she'll peer over Ninety-Nine's shoulder at the screen. ]

Nine-saaaaan. [ this is much easier than Ninety-Nine-san, ] Did you find anything interesting in there? Dr. Bei's secret blog, maybe~?

iia

[rifare]

[ Their last encounter wasn't exactly... ideal, even if it was Hella that Leon tangled with, he'd been quick to get in Ninety-Nine's way alongside Mark. He's been giving the woman a fairly wide berth since then as well, but in a little bunker like this there's only so far you can get from someone.

And besides, this woman is about to massacre the hell out of that steak. As whatever the foodie equivalent of a pedant is, Leon clicks his tongue in agitation as he reaches his one good hand to at least grab some pepper off the spice rack, followed immediately by the salt.

It's a little late into the process for them, but maybe it can still be saved. ]

Do you hate enjoying your food?

ib, i need to experience the zombie crusher 500

[hydrotherapy]

[ So this is what a car is like. In some ways, it's similar to the aquabus line back in Fontaine - a method of travel self-contained to one vehicle, able to fit in several passengers, and with the ability to peruse the outside view while riding. In other ways.....

Well.

Sigewinne's perched in the middle seat, legs danging off the edge and the seatbelt threatening to slice across her chin at any moment now, and every time the car thunks over a bump - whether it be a pothole in the ground or a zombie body - she flinches a little. ]

Is this usually how fast a car is supposed to go?

[ Ninety-Nine...you good???? ]

[kototama]

a. the before

[Kotoha is... here! She's here, tied up, gagged, and probably sitting someplace comfy because I doubt this group would've just dumped her onto the floor even though it would've been funny.

Just lemme know if you want a memory or come say your farewells. It's pretty obvious that things are not going well and just getting worse; she has fits where she's clearly not herself, even if she is, at least for now, kept from harming anyone.

In very rare moments, you might even catch her huddled in on herself, crying.]

b. the deed - closed to gojo and soujuurou

[In the end, Kotoha knows that she has to take matters into her own hands.

Her condition is deteriorating, and the only way she's able to keep everyone safe is by being tied up and gagged. She's already dead weight for everyone as it is, but there are flashes, longer and longer, where she's no longer herself.

Flashes where she thinks... she might be turning back into that person she was when she first Fell, when she hurt so many people. She can't be that person again. She doesn't want to be a mindless, shambling, stumbling zombie of a human being.

It takes her most of the week to finally come to terms with it. It's so, so difficult, and there are so many loose ends to tie up before she can.

But ultimately, she tries to catch Gojo's eyes across the room. He'll get it. He'll understand, right? So... she'll start there.]

can i have a memshare before kotoha bites it (🥁) PLEASE

[bicth]

[ It's a good thing other people than Hella were in charge of setting up Kotoha, because Hella certainly would have been against tying her up like this... she has a unique sense of what's safe for everyone, perhaps because of her own sturdiness. The fact remains that Hella doesn't like to see any one of her friends in such a state, no matter the reason. Her base instincts tell her she should be breaking Kotoha free...

Whether or not Kotoha is giving involuntary tremors and fits, Hella approaches her with no fear. If she can't free her, then the least she can do is spend time with her, and show her that none of this changes how she feels. Wherever Kotoha's currently sitting all tied up, Hella sits next to her, being careful not to jostle her or press up against her too much. ]

Hey. [ She hums, conversationally, pulling out some trinkets from her pockets and setting them aside: it's some paper and pencils, a deck of cards, as well as some of the nifty trinkets she stole from inside the other rooms. ] I thought you might be getting bored over here... so I brought some cool stuff.

[ She tries to meet Kotoha's eyes, hoping she can glean some kind of sign that it's okay for her to stay from her gaze alone. ]

b.... u_u

[unliminal]

[ He'll understand.

And yet, he doesn't want to understand. In a twisted sense, he was fortunate that his zombie bite had been somewhere that was able to be amputated, and grisly and life-altering as it was. Since Kotoha was infected, he's asked himself that very question: if he had been bitten like where was, somewhere the infection couldn't be cleanly cut away, what would he have done? What would he want?

...What-if's aren't a game he likes to play, but he knows, he knows he would not have accepted the possibility of turning, because if he did, he would have killed all of them. He would have killed Shoko. It would have been a big, fat game-over, any hope of a cure gone. So, that would leave him with one alternative.

Well. It's not hard to imagine that Kotoha is facing that very ultimatum now. Choose her own death, or risk turning into a mindless creature with immense power at her disposal. And yet, Gojo can't help but hope she'll continue to delay that choice, that she'll turn slow, that they can get her to the cure before it's too late, but it's swiftly becoming apparent that that won't happen. That they are running out of time. Kotoha is running out of time.

And just as before, he can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

Even so, when she catches his gaze, a beat of apprehension strikes in his chest, and he crosses over to her, reaching to tug away her gag with far more gentleness than is typical of him. ]

What's up? You hungry? Heh, I'll make you some lunch, but you'll have to ask suuuuper nice.

[ Maybe not the right question to ask a budding zombie but his nerves that buzz just beneath his skin get the better of him. ]

a. memshare? we can gamble on the vibes idk

[parttimesoldier]

[Despite what should be a huge wave of relief now that they’re hunkered down in a place that actually seems secure, Suzuha can’t quite get herself to relax, not fully. Food, shelter, and a zombie-free environment go a long way, sure, but…

But, well. It’s hard to miss how quickly Kotoha’s been unraveling over the past few days. They’re going to have a zombie in their midst here before long, whether they like it or not.

She’s trying to put on a brave face about the whole thing, because the last thing Kotoha probably needs is anyone panicking around her when she’s trying to hold it together through this. It has to be on her mind as much as it is the rest of the team’s—the calculations of how quickly she’s succumbing to this illness vs how much traveling they still have ahead of them. The answer doesn't seem favorable.

When she goes to check in on her, maybe gauge what sort of appetite she may have for whatever big meal some of the others are whipping up in the kitchen, she’s only half-expecting that she might be somewhat lucid. What she finds instead is her curled up—asleep, she thinks at first, but then—

Oh. She’s crying.

Whether privacy is a concern for her in this moment or not, Suzuha can’t help but quietly limp her way over to sit next her her, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her back. Kotoha had been there for her weeks ago at the mall when things had gone bad and she’d been scared out of her mind; the least Suzuha can do is return the favor.]

a

[empression]

[ It's true, Haru has made several journeys to ensure that Kotoha is comfortably settled and has things like pillows and all of this is terrible, actually? Kotoha is suffering and she knows it, and they all know it, and there's nothing they can do for her while her condition worsens.

So Haru just visits when she can, sitting down beside her and catching her up on everything.

Such as now, or so she thinks, but...

... ]

Kotoha-chan...?

[ Is she crying...? ]

a... i will take a memshare if you are so inclined

[titlecard]

[ It's worrying — terrifying — that she's doing so much worse than he is. Mark can't help but stare sometimes, because even though he thinks he knows why she's succumbing so much faster, it's not like that makes it any better. Or easier. Or doesn't leave him needing to subtly stay away every now and then.

But it also isn't like he can stay away from Kotoha forever. Besides, what's the worst that could happen if he spends some time with her? They're already... the two of them...

Mark comes to sit down beside her. Let out a shaky breath. He does not want to accept reality, even though he's been off-and-on struggling with his own. So... maybe he can just not accept reality for a little while longer.

He leans against her, lightly, playfully nudging her with his elbow. ]

You know, when I think about it, this still might be easier than graduating high school.

[ It's like he knows it's a stupid thing to say as soon as he says it, that what she's facing right now is better than going to classes, being with your friends, but... high school, right? Ha ha ha. ]

a.......

[302]

[ if he's being honest, he really doesn't even want to look at her the way she is now - it's too sad. The feeling that he should be rescuing her from those bonds is strong, instinctual, but he knows he can't obey it. She's losing the battle. And, unlike with Eileen, there's nothing he can even try to do to help her. No holy candles, no one left to blame.

Even though he doesn't want to, he ends up coming to see her, anyway, halfway between his nerves demanding he check and make sure the worst hasn't happened yet and his mind telling him she probably doesn't want to be alone. It's not like he knows her particularly well, but -- that's never stopped him from seeing someone's last moments before. Receiver of wisdom. ]

... Hey... are you awake?

i'll get uhhh an a with a side of mem please

[irreversal]

[ It's obvious, so obvious, and especially so in the ways that Shoko hadn't been expecting to notice. Perhaps hadn't wanted to notice, for all that she's aware that it's dangerous, to get so attached. But more often than not, there's a silence around the group that Kotoha's voice should have filled. A brightness to their days that instead has been tied up and gagged.

It's a familiar ache, for her, but it's also one that she's resigned to feeling for the rest of her life.

And so one of the times that Kotoha seems upset, or perhaps doesn't feel entirely herself, Shoko is there, sitting with her, and lifting a hand to draw her hand over Kotoha's hair in slow, gentle, soothing strokes. ]

[bicth]

I. kitchen

[ Did you come to the kitchen to get something, only to have the realization that someone has been standing there forever, taking up space?? Well, that's because Hella has been squinting hard as fuck at the back of a microwave dinner for like, ten minutes, refusing to ask for help from anyone. There are also a lot of other random things she pulled out of the freezer while she was at it, like frozen hamburger patties and popsicles, as if she was just haphazardly picking out whatever looked good, but her focus right now is fully on her frozen block of lasagna. Or, rather, struggling and failing to read what the package of lasagna says. ]

Heat until... heated.... thorough?

[ But then, she can feel your gaze near the kitchen, and she suddenly hugs the (very cold) package to her chest, face turning beet red with embarrassment. ]

What are you looking at!? I'm just — ! Trying to eat like anyone else!

II. underage drinking 😏 (unless)

Heh, and we don't even have to pay.... serves that stupid asshole right.

[ She humphs as she picks the cap off a bottle of beer, looking very pleased with herself to crack open a cold one . ]

Aren't you having any?

[ They say drinking can make you forget, right...? She doesn't want to think about the tonal dissonance of some of the things going on in this "safehouse," Kotoha's deterioration chief among them. ]

III. memory grab bag

( these prompts are if you'd rather just hop right into memshare! otherwise, you can just tell me you'd like memshare in another thread and i can hit you up with one of these or a unique one there. just lmk!! )

a. the experiments at parma (cw: torture)

[ In this memory, a younger Hella is strapped down to a what looks to be a hospital bed in a dark laboratory — all the scientists standing around the table are in white coats and dark masks. They talk amongst each other as if she isn't there, giving out orders to ensure the experiment is timed, and to record the rate and speed of recovery.

From there, the process starts. There's a strange metal instrument, almost like a brand, that's glowing red from heat — and it's quickly pressed into the bare skin of her inner wrist, audibly searing the flesh there. At first, Hella only breathes out a wheeze, but as the brand is kept there and burns her to the bone, she starts to yell through clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes tight. No tear ever sheds from her eyes, but her face is pale and drenched in sweat from the pain, as if there were many of these similar "experiments" prior to the memory's beginning.

The scientists continue to chat as they burn her over and over again, sometimes in the sme place, and sometimes on other parts of her body. Yet not a single mark lasts for long, otherworldly regeneration reversing the damage of each burn in record time. The burnt sinew and skin visibly knits back together as if urged along by a supernatural force.

Judging by the litany of tools for various types of harm near the scientists' trays — pliers, needles, blades, hammers... there's no end to this in near sight. ]

b. execution (cw: blood)

[ The first noticeable thing when you link minds with Hella is the smell of gasoline. The next noticeable scent after that? Blood.

The source of it is Hella: she's laying on the pavement next to an overturned car, a knife deep in her gut, and blood smeared all over her face and dress. It's obvious she's been beaten quite badly, bones surely shattered and several chunks of flesh torn open. Standing over her is a maniacal Ninety-Nine, who's crimson eyes show no signs of rationality.

The authorities try to intervene to no avail; bullets are useless on Ninety-Nine, and each time Hella clings to her to hold her back, she's eventually beaten down again, dangerously close to slipping out of consciousness.

But she never stops telling everyone else to go away — that I can handle this. I can make Ninety-Nine control herself... she's determined to bring her back from the brink, even if she has to get beaten to hell and back to do it.

The memory ends abruptly and brutally when Ninety-Nine swings a metal rod at her, knocking her out cold. ]

c. first meeting

[ i'll show mercy to myself and just link this one, it's ninety-nine and hella's first meeting ]

IV. wildcard

( anything else goes here.... i'll be tagging around too so just hit me up if you want smth diff and we miss each other! )

II

[parttimesoldier]

Normally I’d say drinking while in the middle of a mission sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but…

[But really, this whole time have they had anything but? They’ve been through the wringer, are still dealing with ticking time-bombs (she’s trying very hard not to think for long about Kotoha and subsequently Mark, who might not have gotten as bad as her so quickly, but still hasn’t gotten any better), and they still have weeks to go. This is probably the most secure reprieve they’re going to have during this whole thing.

So she sighs, leaning forward to hold an expectant hand out as she nods toward the collection of bottles gathered at the other end of the table.]

I guess it can’t make things any worse. Pass one over.

[unliminal]

a. road trip from hell

[ Whoever has the misfortune of getting stuck on a car ride with Gojo better hope that he's driving, because if left as a passenger, there will be no end to his whining and "are you there yets". Despite the fact that he...hasn't actually learned to drive. It's fine! He picks it up quickly, making a point to sling what remains of his amputated arm over the back of the seat as he reclines and drives one handed. Because that's all he can do...

...Yeah, even this is still a yawn fest. ]

Wahhh...I'm boooored! Tell me a story, or else I'll fall asleep at the wheel.

[ It better be a good story, too!! Later, assuming he did not, in fact, fall asleep at the wheel and winds up as a passenger instead, he may at certain intervals reach over and yank the steering wheel to jostle the whole car. ]

Hehe. There was a zombie!

[ Was there actually a zombie?! You decide... ]

b. rest & relaxation(?)

[ Much as he might want to keep pressing on until they reach the end of their journey, even he is feeling the extent of his limits, and his body demands real rest, even if his mind insists otherwise. Continues to insist otherwise, even as he takes the best shower of his fucking life and passes out in one of the beds for a solid 12 hours.

His long sleep hasn't completely recharged him, however; instead, it leaves him with a dull ache behind eyelids, the kind of mental overload that isn't uncommon with his Six Eyes, but is usually mitigated by use of his sunglasses. That's not always the case, however, and maybe he should just be glad he got stuck in migraine hell while somewhere safe, but —

He sure as hell isn't glad for this.

He'll find whatever dark corner of the bunker he can, as far away from the noise from the others as possible, but if someone should take up the dubious task of seeking him out to check on him, they'll find him reclining with his head tipped back, a cool washrag over his brow with his fingers pinched over the bridge of his nose. ]

Ehh. The least you could do is bring me some ice cream.

[ He knows it's in the freezer but he hasn't been feeling well enough to have any. :( ]

c. obligatory memshare prompt

[ At some point after recovering from migraine hell, Gojo scrounges up something to eat in the kitchen, and in so doing, he finds some tea leaves and a kettle. Some tea sounds nice on his still-settling stomach, so he brews up a pot on the stove, and out of utter habit prepares two cups, before he even realizes he's done so.

...Dammit. This is just cringy and embarrassing, so he waves down anyone nearby, picking up the extra cup of tea and holding it out to them. ]

Oi. Drink this. I made it for youuuuu~

[ He sure didn't, but you wouldn't disappoint a one-armed tummy ache survivor, would you? ]

c

[venomnom]

Did you? How kind of you.

[Reiju has the feeling that he didn't, especially since she just dropped in, but far be it from her to turn the offer down and give him a reason to get worked up after all he's endured so far. She steps forward to accept the tea, smiling wider once her fingers graze the cup.]

Thank you.

[empression]

a. ROADTRIP

[ Haru would rather go with the horses, honestly, she's quite fond of them--but Haru also knows how to drive, so she's hopped behind the wheel this time and hopefully you're a bit of a thrill seeker because something seems to Seize Her the instant she wraps her fingers around the steering wheel.

Something... quite unlike her usual sweet-tempered personality.

Which is why I hope you're holding onto something (or each other) for dear life as she floors it, when she slams into a zombie and you see them soar majestically into the air--

She perhaps also has the need for speed. ]


b. FOOD PREP

[ Well! She can cook, at least! Perhaps not as skilled as her friend back home, but he's not here now, so Haru is at least working in the kitchen in a way that is nowhere near as terrifying as her driving, hair pulled back in a little ponytail. She seems to be happy just... well. Doing something simple. The smells coming from the kitchen should be tantalizing!

If she spots you, she smiles. ]

If you'd like, I wouldn't mind having a taste-tester.


c. TOWEL

[ Listen, sometimes you have been going through it and doing your best to hold it together and then you take a hot shower and that is the most normal you've felt in a hot second and you kind of start to feel like you're having a meltdown.

Because Haru has not really cried yet, despite wanting to Multiple Times thus far, and perhaps you're just randomly walking into one of the bedrooms or actively looking for her, but there's just a figure seated in the corner with a towel draped over her still damp hair. Her features are obscured, but she looks like she's fighting to not just huddle up entirely, breathing shaky. ]

d. WILDCARD

[ Anything! If you'd like a memshare while cooking or dealing with Haru's inner towel turmoil, just let me know! ]

c! and i will take a memory, of course

[insinnerate]

[Ok but even if I picked the towel meltdown, I hope we can say they raced cars and mowed down zombies together and also that Haru fed her at some point. Just the full Haru experience.

Ninety-Nine might not be the best person to find anyone who needs emotional support and comfort, but she is well-equipped to find missing party members or ones who are acting differently from normal. She's taken note of their footsteps and the pattern of their breaths, and it helps her see the dark shape slumped in the bedroom for what it is.

Hesitating in the bedroom doorway - what if she makes it worse? What if the girl flinches away - Ninety-Nine waits silently a moment, then walks in to squat down on her heels at Haru's side.]

You're not well... I could hear it in your breath. Are you feeling sick? Did you get injured? [Give that she can't sense the metallic sting of blood in the air, she probably already knows the answer, at least in part.]

[mediator]

[ ooc: because my time is a little tight, I'm splitting my toplevel into reg open prompts and memshare. the latter will go up first and I'll work on the former later tonight 🫡 ]

memshares!!

[mediator]

[ ooc: following jams' idea on this, grab whichever one you want your character to see and let's skip to the part where it gets seen. i'm ok with exchanging memories too if you'd like. and if you prefer something a little more lighthearted than these then you can let me know via pm or in the discord and i can whip up a "soujuurou slice of life" moment for you. the second and third have endgame witch on the holy night spoilers. ]

i. exiled

every day of the boy's life was the same. he wakes up at the crack of dawn, at the same time the other dozen boys and girls on the compound do. they eat breakfast, go to hunt for food, learn to fight, eat their dinner, and then sleep. all the children lived for that one single day, and then moved onto the next. as such, no one ever looked forward to the end of the month, nor the week and not even tomorrow. when every day is the same, there is no expectation that the next will be any different.

then one day, at the end of the sixteenth autumn he's lived through, he noticed someone in his group was missing and went to go look for them. after following tracks carefully concealed, the boy found that person's corpse at the bottom of the cliff. but none of the others were concerned when he told them what happened. it was simply an event of the day and nothing more. the next day came, and then the next, and life moved on.

but not for him.

"You must leave," decreed the elder.

the boy's reaction is muted, surprise flickering in his eyes but nowhere else. "Why? Have I done something wrong?"

the elder chuckled. "You have begun to question your purpose here - am I wrong?"

the boy's face went blank with realization, eyes only on the elder sitting across from him in a private wood cabin. it was true: without even knowing when it started, he began to wonder what tomorrow would bring. in a world where everything was the same each day, the boy wished for something new.

"This is a grave sin. It means you no longer belong here," the elder explained, expression wry and voice bemused. "We will bring you down the mountain and give you a new identity to live with. Do not speak of this to the others, or they will be forced to leave as well."

that was harsh, but fair. for all the years he has lived here, they have never exchanged beyond what was necessary. he knows the smell of the animals and the berries he should eat by sight better than he knows any of them. it would be wrong to pass his sin down. the decision has been made for him - exiled from the perfect world he has only ever known. so why isn't he upset?

"......Soujuurou Shizuku. That is the name you will be granted. Commit to your heart as though it were branded. We will take you down the mountain tonight after dark."

he nods, accepting his fate.

ii. grendel and beowulf

"Glad to see you still have some fight in you, Aozaki"

upon the clearing at the top of the hill, five actors play their role. the heroines, a sharp blue eyed brunette (aoko aozaki) and her doll faced companion dressed in black (alice kuonji), have been struck down by their enemies. drenched in their own blood, stitched wounds reopened, they lay immobilized on the precipice between life and death. their enemies, the red mage in green (miss touko) and a golden haired child (he doesn't know who this is) in an expensive white coat, look upon them knowing their victory is but a stone's throw away.

and then there's him: soujuurou shizuki, only a man among goliaths with power that should solely exist in human imagination. when aozaki tries to ask what he's doing here, it's barely above a murmur, her body is failing rapidly. he explains, without a hint of fear, that he's here to step in.

the golden boy laughs with vicious glee at his next meal. soujuurou doesn't even look at him.

"Something reeks... it's like rotten meat," soujuurou sighs, voice dismayed with disgust and full of contempt. "This is why I hate dogs."

what happens next could only be a story from myth itself. the boy transforms in a fiery gale, growing larger and larger with golden fur taking over every inch of his pale skin. in but a moment, the boy is now in his true form: beowulf, the noble werewolf, the infallible beast.

"Amazing," Soujuurou breathes, but not with awe - exasperation. "You really are a dog."

deathly silence overwhelms the clearing, the three women's ears burning and their expressions stunned with disbelief. is he an idiot? miss touko commands beowulf not to kill soujuurou, but her order falls on deaf ears. pride and dignity stripped away, the beast lunges for the kill.

beowulf swings his massive claw and soujuurou side-steps, betting his entire life on three paces of perfect timing. but not evade - to position himself in the spot he needs. with one mind, one breath, soujuurou counters with a punch powered by all his feeble human strength into the chest of the beast. his left arm explodes, the impact with a mythic beast destroying it instantly. then, as the beast begins to collapse, he whirls around to reach the monster's back and drive his right elbow - penetrating the exact spot his fist went into from the other side.

the werewolf falls, choking on his own blood, gasping for air. felled in three seconds. beowulf the great legend defeated by a mere mortal, his perfection denied on the conceptual level. and above him the mortal stands, expression dark and empty as if he were a statue.

iii. a chime

"I'm glad that went well."
"Don't you dare say you're happy we're alive or I'll be so pissed."

aoko aozaki, the blue eyed magus, glared as she sat up on the ground covered with her own blood, daring soujuurou to find a bright side to this. her school uniform is more crimson than beige now, clinging to her life by a thread as her body attempted to start rapid healing. soujuurou was somehow in even worse shape: his arms both broken, one of his legs damaged so badly it's a miracle he could still stand, internal organs ruptured, spine nearly collapsed. a bird with clipped wings, his body would never recover the way hers would.

what exactly went so well, she asks with an exasperated huff.

"Because I was finally able to keep my promise. You held up your end of the deal, but I hadn't delivered yet. That always bothered me. I'm so glad I got the chance to set things straight."

she was astonished in a way she didn't think she could muster up again after watching him defeat the werewolf that bested her in a single move.

"You're the one who taught me that promises are things you make to yourself, Aozaki. So as long as you keep your word, I need to keep mine," he sighs audibly, smile happy and tired. "What a weight off my shoulders."

sincere as ever and she could barely muster a proper response to the audacity of it. he was a complete mystery to her, as if the simplest problem was the hardest to find a solution to. all she can do is grumble back that she's the one who owes him now. soujuurou reaches out his right hand to her, ready to go back home together.

"You really are hopeless," she utters and reaches her hand to take his.

then a bell chimes, the air whips, and the girl's fondness instantly turns to horror.

"Sou... juurou..."

her quiet voice is the last thing he hears before his body is cut in two. everything goes dark, and he dies.

MEMSHARE PROMPTS 8)

[killboss]

[ tags into all y'alls toplevels but here's some memshare from el pupito ]

A. A DAISY IN THE DARK

[ The first thing you always notice is how dead her eyes are.

She's a slight thing, standing all silver-haired and bony-wristed, smile stretching the corners of her mouth like if she stops for a moment she'll stop forever. Hey, hey ajusshi, she warbles, raising her hands towards you all friendly-like. You know her. This is Daisy. She approaches on heels as the girls behind her call out for clients in front of the Virtuality Club, the star painted on her cheek twinkling in the buzzing neon light. I wasn't sure I'd see you here again. Low karma can be so embarrassing.

Here is Rengkok South. Coughing nobodies and Third Children litter the street, forming gangs for survival and looking up to bigger dogs than them to eke out some sort of existence when HEAVEN would never want them and HELL would never need them. You shrug at her, gesturing with empty hands and voicelessness — but, she gets it. You never needed to struggle to communicate in Rengkok. Most people knew how to fill in your blanks, your torn places, the gaps in your "you".

Hey, I get it. My family was so poor they had to give me away. And I wasn't even a Third Child. But it all worked out: fancy jobs, fancy people. I get to be arm candy for all kinds of important guys, even as she says it, you can see the fragmenting in her smile. The lies she's got to tell herself. She's got to enjoy her abysmal work, or the system will make her less than human. A nobody. Karmaless dregs, to be picked up and shipped off to use as biofuel for ANGELS.

She touches your metal wrist, and gestures inside. No matter, in the end. Alina awaits and you've got a mission: Find Brother. Rescue Brother.

B. A GLITCH IN THE GOAL

Your tread is heavy, booted, as you approach the crumbled form of a man that's mostly metal. A fat, flying-saucer of a transhumanist who can't even struggle his way free of his chariot because there's nothing left to him but his withered head, bulbous red-light eyes and creaking jaw straining as he pleads and begs. There's blood on the floor, fire and sparking rubble. Everywhere, machinery clunks and strains and gears catch and steam hisses as a great industrial engine pulses around flimsy catwalks and overturned transport crates.

In your head, a young woman crows victoriously. Black hair, popping her gum between her teeth: Okay, this is it. Help me hack his brain and we'll know where he sent YOUR BROTHER. The words burn like fuel in your body. A singular goal: rescue brother, rescue brother. Any time you stray, it hooks you back in. Any time you linger, you feel your limbs carry forward. Even now, you walk towards the TRAFFICKING and reach your metal hand for his head.

No! He cries, and it's not enough for you to hesitate: You're making a mistake. I was always loyal to the BOSS! Always!

Which strikes you, briefly. It's weird. Why is his loyalty to the BOSS even in question? This isn't about the BOSS of HEAVEN, this is about the BROTHER that was taken from you. Even as it richochets around your battered brain, you can still hear him slipping through your ringing auditory feed. It was them! Not me! It was their idea, you have to believe me! And SHE is quicker still, her voice cutting over his inside of you: Save it. He took your BROTHER and now he wants to weasel out of it. Put me in his head.

( The two things just,

don't compute. )

You obey. Driving your palm into the TRAFFICKING's head until he screams, arc lightning pouring off the connection between you as SHE deep-dives into his brain and comes up with an answer. Where your brother is. What's next. You grab the moaning TRAFFICKING's starboard rotor, and begin to drag his crying, broken, ancient body in your wake.

C. BODIES BODIES BODIES| CW SEXUAL EXPLOITATION & GENERAL MISERY

There's a heap of corpses. ( It's like the ones in the world. The zombies. ) ( The only difference is semantics: zombies, HOSTS. )

SHE is talking to you, while you look at them. About things you already understand about the world. Some HOSTS come to work for the Virtuality system voluntarily, even enthusiastically. Most of them have nothing else, or are conscripted into service. The Karmaless, the Third Children, the street people that are hunted down, sold, trafficked and used as cannon fodder to entertain sadistic sleepers who ride their bodies and pilot them like vehicles. Gladiatorial fights and bloodsport to the death to feel what it's like to die from the safety of your pod. Sexual acts nobody would dare risk doing with their own body, but god, you have to try once. Is it a better fate than being harvested for organs?

Groaning, one of the half-dressed bodies lurches for you. A headset bolted into their skull and hands wasted away to skeletal limits, jaw slack and sobbing. All they want is to die, now. You end them, one after another. All they can do is shamble and moan in pain, and as you carve your way through the lumbering hoard of forgotten souls, you find yourself picking at the jumpsuit you wear. The same one every other HOST wears and you think,

ȃ̴̢̼͕͈͕m̷̪̀̂ ̷̱̤̼̺̉͐̎̏̚ỉ̴̪̘̅ ̷̡̣̻̣͓̑͝b̴͈̠̫̓͗̈́͠ĕ̴̡͉ͅi̷̢̪̇̚ņ̷̠̗̖͊̓g̶̡̲̱̬̈́̍ ̶̞̫̎r̵̗̀́̊̈́͠i̶͉͇͙͎̓̀̀d̷̗͈̍̅d̵̩̼͇͚̏e̴͓͆͋͝n̴̫̋͗̍̚̕ ̶͕͍̗͆ẗ̵̥̳́͝o̴̪̼͆̒̚o̶̫̽͛ —

You think nothing at all. SHE says: Your BROTHER is close. And that's all there is to think about.

D. BROTHERS

You stand over a broad-shouldered corpse. A helm just like yours.

You didn't have a LITTLE BROTHER, you know now. It was a trick. Code in the brain, filtered perception, reality warped by a hack to make you pliant and lead you to massacre traitors and usurpers to HEAVEN's throne. The man dead before you is the BOSS, and you can still remember what he'd said to you — bolted to your chair, trapped and locked down physically and mentally: We've got so much in common. This arm, for example. I got it from you, after the accident.

And you knew what you were.

A biocompatible bucket of spare parts. A secret genebank for a wannabe immortal. And his weakness.

Because you had the same biological signature. And you could get to him on the throne, and SHE — SHE, your un-friend, installed the BIG BROTHER protocol into your brain and made you think you were slaughtering men in the way of a vulnerable child. When you, in the end, were the vulnerable child. You can't hear her anymore, but the last thing she said echoes in your awakening mind: If you survive this, meet me where heaven falls.

That's all you want now. For yourself. ]

D.

[rifare]

[ As a voiceless man, there hasn't been much in the way of conversation between Puppy and Leontuzzo. He seems willing enough to do the dirty work that needs to be done, and Leon can appreciate what he's seen of the man in action, but through what he presumes is no fault of his own, Puppy doesn't seem like the most engaging conversational partner.

So during the quiet moments Leon has been polite, but largely hasn't had much to say to the other man.

He'd been sitting quietly in the same room as Puppy even now, lost in his own thoughts until a sudden jolt and his thoughts were no longer his own for a moment. The moment flashes quickly, though the emotions, the thoughts that come with it linger even after Leontuzzo blinks himself back to the reality around them, and turns to look at Puppy.

It's like having a bucket of ice water dumped on top of you, shocking and enough to violently shake you into full alertness. More importantly, it's another little piece of the kind of twisted lives that his traveling companions lived before being brought to this world.

Kind of incredible in a way, so many people dragged into an end of world scenario, and what they came from really doesn't seem like it was any better. ]

I...

[ He starts, before clearing his throat, moving to sit up straighter. He hadn't been intending to pry, but it feels wrong to poke into someone's past without their knowledge. ]

Did you experience that as well?

[ Maybe not a reliving of his own memory, but certain he had to feel something, right? ]

[irreversal]

roadtrip

[ Shoko prefers to ride around on a moped at home, buuuut she can be convinced to take the wheel. She's probably better for it than someone like Gojo, spoiled rich brat that he is!!

Driver or passenger, regardless, Shoko absolutely needs the windows down - it's not like these cars still have working AC in them, anyway - so she can achieve such an aesthetic vibe of cool, pensive girl smoking with the windows down while driving through the desert.

When she's not busy with that vibe, she'll snap herself out of it, but she also absolutely needs jams (not to be confused with our mod). Whoever put this CD on doesn't matter, although John Denver isn't likely to be a purposeful Shoko pick. Still, when "Take Me Home, Country Roads" comes on and hits the chorus, Shoko sings along... kind of: ]

Concrete roads, everywhere, cutting the forests, burying valleys ♪
Western Tokyo, Mount Tama, my hometown is concrete roads ♪

respite

[ Shoko's not going to be of much use with cooking, and were the circumstances different, maybe she would have taken point on party games, maybe even gathered up the CDs from the car from some impromptu karaoke, but as it is...

While this is a better time than any for respite and relaxation, with two in their party surely, slowly succumbing to their infection, it's difficult - even for her - to keep a festive mood.

So instead, Shoko helps herself to - finally - the healthy stock of alcohol. There's nothing this girl won't drink, whether it's beer or liquor straight out of the bottle, though if she sees someone watching, she'll readily hold up her bottle with a big, albeit weary smile. ]

Wanna play a drinking game with me?

[ Later, much later, as it becomes increasingly and alarmingly clear that Kotoha won't hold out for much longer, Shoko seems... quieter, than she might normally be. Distant, and often wanders off to drink by herself in some quiet corner of the bunker.

Possibly even trying to leave the place entirely, to smoke outside. Perhaps not a great idea...? ]

memshare

[ Feel free to go straight into seeing any of these shokomems, or let me know if you'd like to work it into another thread! Alternatively, if you want me to go actually hog wild writing more jjk flashback arc fic bc Shoko isn't actually shown much that is also an option, just let me know on Discord! Any and all metatext is fair game for your character to know.. ]

a. "Don't let yourself turn out like those two!"

It's a rare occasion, for Shoko to be sent alongside Gojo and Geto on a mission. Maybe Yaga-sensei simply wanted his rowdy second-years out of his sparse hair for a little while, but Shoko wants to think that she's here to render any immediate assistance required by either of the two sorcerers they're here to find.

But, as she watches Gojo recklessly destroy an entire mansion, leaving in its wake a crater of debris, part of her wishes she'd stayed home, especially when he and Geto immediately rag on Utahime-senpai, going on about the weak and the strong as they often do. Idiots. They're always so loud. Did Gojo even consider that he might have gotten Utahime and Mei Mei killed by collapsing the entire house around them? He and Geto both, always so flashy all the time.

She butts in, blessedly, before Utahime totally loses it, waving her hand to catch the woman's attention.

"Utahime-senpai, are you okay? I was worried about you. We hadn't heard from you for two whole days."

The traditionally-dressed sorcerer, overjoyed, races up the crumbling stairs to embrace her, practically squeezing the air out of Shoko's lungs.

"Shoookooo! Shoko! Don't let yourself turn out like those two!"

"Ahaha. I won't turn into trash like them."

"The path Utahime walked is falling apart!" Gojo calls out in that annoying, unrepentant, teasing tone of his.

"Shut up," is Geto's response, though it's clear that he's eating this up, too. They really are trash.

Shoko sees, now. She's here to keep everyone sane, though she can't help but feel like they've forgotten something important...

b. "I see you already saw Shoko." (cw: blood & injury)

Gojo and Geto had been away for a few days. A super important, super special mission, Shoko figured, given how tight-lipped Yaga-sensei had been about it, only slipping to tell her that it was Tengen-sama's request to send the two of them specifically. And far too dangerous for her to be sent along with them, naturally. Still, though... They sent the first-years to Okinawa as back-up, so why couldn't she go, then?

Well, whatever. She'll whine about it to them properly when they've all returned. Drag them out into the city with her, make them pay for everything, make them promise to go to the sea with her, the next time they have a break.

...But they won't have a break.

They were set to return today, and to Shoko, it had been a day like any other, full of solitary studying, until suddenly it wasn't. Until suddenly, an intruder appeared on campus, and suddenly a good portion of it was destroyed, old storied buildings torn apart in a vortex that could have only been Gojo's doing, and now...

...and now, these are the thoughts swirling through her mind at present while she heals a defeated Geto in the aftermath of his own battle. For such an opponent to exist who could cut down their two strongest sorcerers... what a monster he must be, she thinks. But it's all Shoko can do, to heal Geto. They'd found another woman - it had been far too late to save her - and Gojo and the Star Plasma Vessel are missing. This is all she can do, pouring her reverse cursed energy into the deep slashes across Geto's chest, sealling the wounds shut, regenerating his blood.

It's not long before Geto comes back to, and he wakes with a start: "Shoko— Satoru is dead."

c. The second-years are back. (cw: blood & body horror)

Summer is nearing its end, and Shoko Ieiri is well into her third year as a student at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (phew), otherwise known as Tokyo Jujutsu High. The memory sees her within a lab of sorts, all but surrounded by stacks of medical books and journals and papers, deep in her studies. Alone in her studies, because the higher-ups never sent her on dangerous missions unaccompanied, and the other students - her friends, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Haibara - are away more often than not, their plates full with the supernatural effects that frequent disasters have wrought upon the population's collective psyche.

But Shoko understands that her role is different from theirs, and so while they are away, she works tirelessly, studying. Healing sorcerers. Occasionally supporting other sorcerers. Studying. Trying to bolster her understanding of the human body so that she can better understand how sorcery interfaces with it. Studying.

There's a first-year, Ijichi, who stops in frequently to check on her, to ask if she'd like something to drink or eat or when the last time she'd returned to her dorm room to sleep was. He's worried about her, she knows, but she's worried about him, too. Will he be alright, working as a sorcerer?

It's not entirely up to her, however. Very little is. The sphere of Shoko's influence is limited, and she only sees her peers when they return from their missions.

If they return. A short call later, and Shoko is sprinting through the campus, until she arrives... at the school's morgue.

Nanami is there, his form weighed by utter exhaustion, a towel draped over his face, his breathing ragged as if to hold himself back. And Haibara... Haibara is dead before her, his body laid out beneath a blanket, where everything she sees tells her that only half of Haibara is here. But she lifts the blanket, all the same, pulling it off of his body, and Shokos feels... What does she feel?

That she needs to smoke. Desperately.

d. "Need a light?"

News travels fast in jujutsu society. Geto never came back from his mission in the countryside. There's no way, Shoko had thought. But they'd just lost Haibara, and what if...?

It's Yaga-sensei who tells her. Five days after Geto left for his mission, they've found the bodies of 112 of the village's residents. Killed by Geto's Cursed Spirit Manipulation - not by the cursed spirit he was sent to exorcise. His home has since been emptied, though evidence suggests he's killed his parents, too. A hundred and twelve people, and his parents. It doesn't make any sense.

"Need a light?" Geto appears in front of her, easygoing as ever, like he isn't a wanted man on the run. "Hey."

"It's the criminal," A bold move, for him to show up here. "Need something?"

"Just testing my luck, I guess."

With what? She hums thoughtfully, leaning in to light her cigarette on his lighter, as they have countless times by now. He always used to be there with a light for her. Her gaze flicks to his face; before leaving for his mission, he'd looked so exhausted, ran into the ground, gaunt... And now he looks happier, after massacring an entire village and his own family. It's horrible, Shoko thinks, but he's her friend, and for her own peace of mind, she needs to hear his answer for herself.

"I'll go ahead and ask... any chance those charges are false?"

"Nope. Unfortunately not."

She takes a drag of her cigarette. A long one, that burns in her throat, that numbs her nerves.

"I'll ask further, then: why?"

"I'm going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers."

Does he even hear himself right now? A world of only jujutsu sorcerers? Does he plan on killing every non-sorcerer there is? Ridiculous. What happened to her classmate? He always used to scold Gojo about losing sight of their cause. Took any chance to remind them all that jujutsu sorcery exists to protect the weak.

Shoko can't help but laugh, "I don't get it." It doesn't make any sense.

"I'm not a child. I'm not holding out hope that eveyrone will understand."

She had seen Geto growing distant, disillusioned, hopeless. She'd seen him, yes. She was there, too. But they're all part of this twisted world, that puts the burden of keeping peace and order on a select few. That demands and demands and demands, until there is nothing left to give but one's life. They all know this. They all understand this. Or so she thought. So why—

"Sulking over the idea that no one will understand you seems pretty childish to me, though." He's a wanted criminal - he killed so many people - and he's to be executed, but there's only one person she knows who's even capable of such a thing, and that's his best friend. Her fingers know how to dial him with practiced ease, and the phone only rings once, twice. "Ah, Gojo? I found Geto. In Shinjuku."

He asks her to stay with him - but this isn't their friend. This isn't a cry for help. It's far, far too late for that.

"No way. I don't want to get killed."

Respite

[rifare]

[ Leontuzzo is not usually the type to indulge excessively. He's a drinker in the sense that most of the people around him drink, but he maintains a healthy degree of moderation to his indulgences.

But even during his lowest moments of near scrapes with death, or the loss of those important to him, he was never emotionally alone (his own fault for maintaining walls when there are physically plenty of people around him) in the middle of an end of the world scenario.

So he considers for about half a second, one ear listing to the side for a moment. ]

What did you have in mind?