surgicalprodigy: (☤ - I won't let you die..)
[personal profile] surgicalprodigy

So I guess they weren't kidding about coming back from the dead, huh?

..Phew..I'm glad everything's back to the way it was.

I'm really sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to die on you all like that.


How bad was it after I..yaknow..?


Mar. 3rd, 2013 01:32 pm
shelflife: (uh oh hes getting jesus involved)
[personal profile] shelflife
[ A familiar sort of voice can be heard singing softly, wavering and hiccuping every once in a while. ]

Happy biiiiirthday... to you... Hahahaheehee--ppy birthday... to yooouu...

Gehahehe... Happy birthday... to meeeee...!



...Hey! Heyyy, the least you could do is applaud! Do you know how hard I worked on that? Almost five minutes of time was put into that performance; the least you could do is make up for your piss poor baking skills! Eh, actually, I think piss would taste better than this awful cake!! I wouldn't know, but I think I know someone who would!

But-- Sigh. Can you believe the kinds of presents birthday girls receive these days? This doesn't even count as a consolation prize! I'm a teenage girl, dammit!! A healthy teenage girl! Healthy in mind and body and soul! Give me cake or death! Wait, I'll do with both, it's my birthday after all!

So it's a party!! Party at the hospital-slash-amusement park! Everyone's invited! Bring your own barfbag!!

[ The strange recording cuts off with a squish. ]
petabytes: (-Distraught)
[personal profile] petabytes
[ The video feed cuts in with a somewhat low-quality feed - with the mansion's power out, Chihiro had to resort to using the webcam on the outdated laptop she took with her to Wonderland. She's got some kind of pink fuzzy cloth wrapped around her mouth, which seems to help with the smog a little, but not as much as any proper equipment would. She removes it in short bursts to speak. ]

I-is anyone there? What's happening? Why is the mansion filled with this - *cough, hack* ...this... gas, or smog... I can barely breathe...

[ She had not been stockpiling any food at all. She doesn't even appear to be in her own room - she's somewhere in the halls, seeming to have ventured out to look for help. ]

...Dirk? Mr. Lorax? Souji-senpai? Alan? Shirogane-san? F..Fukawa-san? Is anyone out there? Is everyone all right?

W-what's happening?!
shelflife: (that was definitely not a deer)
[personal profile] shelflife
[ It's been weeks since anyone's heard from Touko Fukawa. She hasn't been seen, she hasn't spoken, she hasn't been out.

She can't trust this place. Everything about it is suspicious. All of the people in it are suspicious. But there's so many of them. If she wanted to defend herself, she would have to go all out.

And go all out she did.

The room generated for her by the mansion was not well suited for keeping people out (or even for being at all inhabitable, but that's beside the point), so she had to make some adjustments herself. Namely, by creating a defensive tactical barrier between herself and the rest of the building.

Behind her door, she's set a bunch of claymore mines, lying face up, legs still folded up, and safety pins still in. Unbeknownst to her, they are effectively useless like this. A half-broken wooden table has been overturned and its edges laced with barbed wire. It's not a very big table, though, so one could easily just walk around it. There is a single beartrap by the closet, just in case, which is actually activated, but it also has managed to singlehandedly block off the route to the bathroom.

The mirrors are broken -- though no one had ever warned Fukawa to do so -- and boarded up to match the window, which is in the same state. Some of the nails in the wooden boards seem to have some dark purple cloth caught in them.

And behind all this is Fukawa herself, sitting on what looks like an old and rotting wooden floor that creaks with every step, surrounded by empty bags of potato chips and water bottles (full of water on one side, and we're not talking about the other), fingers covered in bandages and armed with nothing but a hammer. There's some notebooks in the corner behind her, with pens neatly set on top, but they look completely untouched.

This probably explains the "MILITARY AREA - KEEP OUT" sign on her door, should anyone have wandered as far as room 524 on the sixth floor.
shelflife: (who knows. maybe an od)
[personal profile] shelflife
[ Though Fukawa has obviously turned the video on herself, she appears to be ignoring it as she stands in one place fidgeting for a few moments. Fidget, fidget. Looking everywhere but at the screen.

Just when you might think she's forgotten about the camera, she sort of glances at it once and then finally begins to talk.

I...I thought I got out somehow, but I was just singled out, wasn't I...? I'm so unpleasant to be around that even that sadistic parody of a headmaster took pity on everyone else... I'm not even significant enough to kill, am I? No, I just get tossed out of the window like garbage!

[ She's starting to get riled up, so she has takes a minute to calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. Deep breaths, but they're the kind that precede a panic attack rather than follow it. ]

I know I'm just a dark fog that only causes misery, but I'm already so tired of this... Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. I'll go home and disappear beneath the rug and everyone can eject me from their memories. I'll become a dust mite hidden away so I can't even offend your noses. Your days will look up from there, won't they? W...Without someone like me to cloud it up?

[ Her voice is low and mumbling, and she talks like she just wants to get it over with, which makes her starting to yell even more jarring. ]

You're thinking that already, aren't you!? I can feel your eyes screwing up just to look at me!!

Just stop looking then! Stop looking!

[ She continues yelling at whoever she thinks she's talking to. Dare to interrupt? ]


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