[physical education 101]

[sevenhorrorsmods]

Who: transfer students
When: July 1̷̝̤̳̙̫̭̻̝͓̄̇̾̀̕͝9̸̙̱̹͍̮̈́́̀̅͛̐̔̋ 20
Where: the. . . gymnasium?
What: an ice breaker
Warnings: moderate physical injury (not debilitating), psychological horror (absolutely debilitating)

[The school is empty. The school is quiet. The only sound that cuts through the silence is the soft ticking of the hallway clocks that mark the passing of each second.]

[. . .]

[At least. . . until a stiff breeze whips through the classrooms, scattering dirty papers and jerking the curtains aside. The clock strikes 6:00 a.m.]

[The school bell chimes.]

[ Team rooms | Endgame | Rewards ]

Comments

[faultlieswith]

[ Ishmael doesn't "stumble in" so much as she wakes up from being a sorry, bloody heap on the floor. She sits up and starts starts frantically grabbing at her throat and limbs to try and pull off something that's no longer there.

Despite their attempts at making one last stand, they didn't stand a chance. The... thing... tore into them without a hesitation and as if they were no obstacle at all. The battle was lost before it even begun.

And yet, here she is. Alive. Not mended like it would have been if Dante had turned the clock. But alive.

For some reason, that feels like adding insult to injury. Frustrated and not knowing what else to do, she lets out an angry scream. ]

[eonsadrift]

[ He wakes up somewhere nearby, casting a glance at her while she screams. ]

...so much for not letting them get to us.

[faultlieswith]

[ Look, she's having a moment. ]

Yeah, so much for that.

[ Their barrier might have well been paper mache. ]

How did that not kill us?

[eonsadrift]

...I don't know. I don't even fully remember how we got here.

[faultlieswith]

Same. I'm grateful, but I'm also confused.

[ She shifts her weight a bit and winces. ]

Least they could have done was healed up the damage.

[eonsadrift]

They have to make sure we're still suffering adequately, I suppose...

Are you able to walk?

[rugpull]

Me too.

[a bit bloody himself and very cranky, ears flat]

[faultlieswith]

[ Oh hey, new face. ]

I didn't realize there were multiple rooms of us.

[ That sucks. ]

Didn't find the key either, huh?

[rugpull]

Nope.

Apparently one class did but now I resent their success.

[faultlieswith]

Really? Assholes.

[ She resents it too! ]

At least we're not dead. Somehow.

[rugpull]

...did ya have a message on yer chalkboard? And a notebook?

[inexorableiron]

[Big man slipping on his own blood to get upright, then slipping over fast on his knees for better traction. Knee run!]

Lady dude! Shit!

[At least she is conscious... Hamn rocks back on his heels]

No way was there a fuckin' key, dudes.

[faultlieswith]

W-watch it!

[ It'd be stupid to survive all that just to break something slipping in his own blood. Luckily, he adjusts tactics and manages to knee-run over. ]

There probably wasn't. We were played from the start.

[inexorableiron]

I got it, I can hold me up. Don't fuckin' worry about me, I'll be fine. Not the first time I got all cut up to hell.

[Lopsided grin]

Yeah. And plenty of other dudes too, lookin' at things.

[faultlieswith]

Same here. Doesn't make it a pleasant experience.

[ She looks around, taking in the suddenly larger crowd dressed in different colors. ]

I guess it was too much to hope that it was just us, huh?

[inexorableiron]

Yeah. Tch. Six other colors, so way too many fucking dudes trapped in this whatever this place is.

[isdf]

[Drawn to the scream, Yuma walks on over. His track suit has some tears, but probably most notable to Ishmael is the "keeper of the keys" gold star sticker.]

Do you require treatment?

[faultlieswith]

What? Oh, yeah, probably.

[ She looks him up and down, eyes resting on the sticker. ]

Does that mean you had it the whole time and we were never going to find it?

[ If that's the case, it's on sight. ]

[isdf]

[He glances aside—there's nothing here they can use from a cursory look—when he turns back at the odd question. Following her line of sight to the sticker, it clicks.]

Ah, you must be referring to the key. We found ours underneath the podium; however, if there was another, we did not manage to locate it.

[faultlieswith]

[ The tension in her visibly releases. ]

I see.

[ Lucky bastards. ]

We didn't get that far before that monster broke in and wrecked us.

[isdf]

What was it like?

[Then he gets another good look at her and decides that they can multitask.]

If you are actively bleeding, let us treat your wounds as we talk.

[ordimame]

[sometime after he has been tended to, his bleeding wrists and ankles bandaged with torn strips of fabric]

Uuuuh huh. . . I bet that feels cathartic!

[faultlieswith]

It does.

[ Harumph. ]

But it doesn't actually help with anything. Least of all figuring out how the hell we're still alive.

[ordimame]

. . . so it got you too, huh?

[a bit wry, but not unkindly so. empathetic. understanding]

[faultlieswith]

... yeah.

[ Ishmael will gladly accept wry empathy. ]

We tried to mount a defense, but it tore right through it all. I imagine it was similar for you.