[a little ice breaker]

[sevenhorrorsmods]

Who: everyone!
When: throughout the week of August 10
Where: everywhere
What: a little mischief
Warnings: nada!

[On August 10th, everyone wakes up to find a series of red yarn strung across the entire school. They dangle from the hallway ceilings, from the classroom door frames, even across some of the trees and bleachers outside. The ones that hang within reach feel warm to the touch! They can be pulled down and removed with little consequence.]

[However, it is not the decorative threads you should be worried about. Throughout the week, any two characters who come in close proximity with each other (they do not have to touch!) may suddenly find themselves tied together with the exact same red thread. If you're lucky, it will only link you via your wrists. If you're unlucky, it might bind you via your ankles, or even wrap you both up back-to-back like a pair of captives. Hm! Concerning!!]

[Any time two characters are tied together, a playful voice echoes in their minds: Hehe. Share a secret. . .?]

[To be released, both characters must share a secret with each other! Something that the other one doesn't know! It should be something significant; the playful threads will not let you go unless it is. But the level of significance may vary from something light to something that is not, so ultimately it is player's choice as to what secrets count and which do not!]

[. . . anyway, for anyone who wants to avoid getting caught, the nurse's office and dorm rooms are completely clear! The threads are also fickle; it is possible for two characters to hang out without being tied up together, if you don't want to play with this effect. Otherwise, go forth and mingle with some optional forced bonding!!]

Comments

[brokenlance]

[Yes! Thank you! Someone understands!]

Very well.

But... a secret, you say? [His expression looks mixed about this. It seems there might be several things he's been playing close to his chest.]

[isdf]

[Reluctance is to be expected. Secrets are more meaningful when there are consequences to revealing them. As for him . . . ]

Yes. If you need some time to gather your thoughts, I can start us off: I am a man-made life form.

[brokenlance]

[hold up what]

You... speak as though you were fashioned like a sword or a lance. But you're clearly a man.

[isdf]

[Sentient weapons . . . ]

I was developed in a laboratory. I am human, but the nature of my birth is more like that of a weapon.

[brokenlance]

So when you spoke of your purpose...

[that. makes sense now.]

Then - you had no childhood at all?

[isdf]

[He blinks. That's not something he's ever been asked.]

No. I have been training to battle dragons ever since I gained awareness.

[brokenlance]

I see... I'm truly sorry to hear it.

If only there were a way to remedy such a loss... but not even the Goddess herself can turn back time.

[isdf]

It was the logical course of action. For what reason do you apologize?

[brokenlance]

Because even someone like myself can still look back on old memories that bring me joy. Without it... without all the people who showed me love, where would I find the strength to fight?

I pray at least that there are still things in your life that you cherish?

[isdf]

[He watches him for a moment, recognizing some familiarity in those words. This must be the fundamental difference between them.

At the question, he looses a mirthful breath.]

I have friends here. That is enough for me.

[brokenlance]

[There is a moment of silence as he contemplates that answer. His gaze is still tinted with sympathy, but also recognition of Mamoru's conviction.]

I see.

Then, if it is not too bold... I hope we can be friends as well, Mamoru.

[isdf]

[The look is lost on him, but his own gaze lingers, his lips parted in deliberation, before he smiles again. The people here are very kind.]

Yes, of course. Then . . . is there a particular gesture in your kingdom that serves as a sign of friendship?

[brokenlance]

[With a small laugh,]

It is not so formal a thing. Simply know that I hold you in great esteem, and I would jump to your aid if you needed it.

[isdf]

. . . The same applies to you.

[It was always a given that he would help, but now there's even more reason for him to be invested.]

Have you given thought to your secret?

[brokenlance]

Ah. Hm.

[His mouth thins, an expression of hesitation. He's self conscious.]

Only promise that you will not spread it around? Not that I think you cruel, but... well.

I can no longer taste anything.

[isdf]

[He nods. Secrets are secrets, though he simply blinks at what he hears.]

"No longer"? Does that mean it is a recent development?

[brokenlance]

Yes. Four years ago, I lost all sense of taste.

There's no wound on my tongue. My sense of smell is unaffected, and I can discern hot from cold, and the like.

But eating has become a bit of a chore, to say the least.

[isdf]

How strange.

[How does something like that happen?]

Does the lack of flavor bother you that much?

[brokenlance]

[His head hangs, ashamed]

There are times where I wish to sincerely compliment a dear friend's cooking, or share in one's delight when they introduce me to their favourite food. To share in a meal together is normally a joy.

I'm afraid I just lie instead, to spare their feelings... I could not bear disappointing them.

[isdf]

[Is such a thing joyful . . . ?]

Hmmmm . . . If the issue lies in lying, why not compliment what's true?

[brokenlance]

I do try my best! A rich aroma, or an interesting texture... all the same, I do not think it's what they want to hear. It feels false.

[isdf]

How can the truth feel false . . . ? Wouldn't it be simpler to ask what kind of feedback they want?

[brokenlance]

[He sighs...]

At its heart, the feedback they want is always the same. 'Did this meal make you happy?'

But no meal can.

[isdf]

["Did this meal make you happy?" Is that how it goes . . . ?]

So you fabricate a judgment . . . in order to make them happy.

[brokenlance]

It's shameful, but... yes.