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.

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.]

[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.]

[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! )

[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? ]

[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! ]

[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 🫡 ]

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. ]

[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."