#Unfortunately she had to go to duel academy and watch people die

[femmeroi]

I bet Asuka has the capability to be silly like Fubuki, unfortunately we only see her during the worst moments in her life

[mahouproject-one]

At The Edge Of Repeating Times From Long Ago | Miyu | ATTN: All, but especially Byakko + Mi-ke

[ CW: Self-harm implication ] [ tl;dr of her infodump at the end of the post ]

Just because the votes had been finalized (for better or worse) didn’t mean that anyone’s pain had been alleviated. The wounds were still raw, and even for the one case they were able to vote correctly on, there was no closure to be found. At the end of the day, there were empty bedrooms and lost futures, and no amount of justification would fix it.

Miyu still felt indignant when Itona dug in against Kris. Maybe it was because this came immediately after a mistrial that was, no matter how one cut, primarily Miyu’s fault. If she hadn’t pushed too far, if she hadn’t stood back when she saw the momentum build… If she hadn’t done the exact damn mistakes that got Mi-ke killed.

“I’m not going to defend what happened to Shiba-san. But if you’re going to blame only one person for Miwa-chan’s death, it’s me you want. If I had survived the third trial, Miwa-chan would have died in my place. We didn’t know it at the time, obviously, but Otohiko taunted us about it afterwards. And then she took them anyway because I convinced myself that Ueno had killed again. That’s on me. A lot of people paid for our mistakes: Them, and Hasekura-san, and whoever is about to die now.

But it’s me. I’m the one who keeps stirring the pot, expecting something different to happen this time. I’m the one who uses people for information or selfish wishes. I’m the one who dragged people into my own terrible ideas. I’ve already accepted that this is all I’ll ever be.”

(Had she really? For a second, there was a look of anguish on her face. Miyu, for all her cold words, still wanted something better than this. But she constantly fought with herself, telling herself that it was too dangerous to hope. And today had proven just that. Miyu would act out the motions and recite the speeches, but she didn’t know if she could let herself hope for something better.)

(Joon wondered how other ghosts came to terms with their deaths. Miyu’s answer: She hadn’t. Every time she found some sort of closure or purpose to her existence, something happened to set all the progress back. And every time, Miyu found herself returning to the day Hope’s Peak Academy told her about the plea deal, and all she could think about was breaking herself physically and mentally just to feel like maybe she had some control over her own existence.)

(The second passed, and Miyu returned to her bravado. Presumptuous, she was, to act as if she was the one in charge of everyone’s failures. Was that part of her need for control, too?)

“…I have to gather my thoughts, please. Give me a few minutes.”

Those few minutes ended up stretching on a lot longer than they needed to: First, a small side-discussion with Outa, because she needed people to understand that her apologies weren’t just platitudes. She truly did have regrets. And if they really were approaching the end… she needed everyone she had wronged these past months to know that she did feel that remorse. Maybe not for everything. Maybe not for every cruel word. But certainly for a lot of them.

By the time Miyu realized that the confrontation between Reiko and Takako had devolved into a slapfight and then a beatdown, it was once again too late to stop the momentum. Besides, the only objects she had on her that would be tangible to both her and the living were the tulle scraps (too delicate) and the potion bottles (too important). All she could do was stare in horror – exhausted and numb, but still some spark of horror – at the severity of Reiko’s wounds. Sure, Takako had taken a few hard hits too, but at least she had already looked like a mess.

That disgusting feeling of not feeling in control of anything, of wanting to torch the whole world just to feel like she had control, welled up in her chest. Miyu tapped one potion bottle against the other, the clinking noise ringing clear.

“Enough. Enough. I know this is not over. I know someone will die for this. I know that nothing will ever fix that and that nothing will ever feel more cathartic than kicking Imai’s ass. But we do not have time for this.

I’m not asking you to have faith in me. Everyone here who has ever believed in me has been betrayed by me in some way. What I’m asking you to have faith in is the memories of what I’ve witnessed the past few weeks. Half of you know what I’m going to say already. Half need to be caught up.”

Miyu took a few careful moments to clear everything off of her pensieve and onto the floor, leaving behind only the swirl of memories and the cluster of gold chrysanthemums. Standing straight in front of her pensieve, she drew out her wand, trying to call everyone’s attention to her.

“Before we get into that, I’d like to make sure we all know the names and status of this school’s founders, and their relatives. Just so we all know who’s who.”

With a flick of her wrist, she pulled up the first of many images. The scene showed five people in total, one of them presiding over two pairs engaging in a dancing duel, just like the dance the class had shared so, so long ago in better times. Most of the figures were immediately recognizable as those who had given their lives to protect the students in the first (not-)trial: The warrior in red and the scholar in black, bound obi-to-obi. However, the mystic in blue was paired off with someone few of them had seen before, although his swishing cat tail was adorned with a familiar cuff…

“Ake, founder of Suzaku. Mikage, founder of Genbu. Haru, founder of Seiryuu. Haru is especially notable at this time, as it seems they’ve been restored to their adult form. In fact, the Seiryuu pensieve has vanished entirely and was replaced with a door, though I haven’t had the time to examine further. Haru themself isn’t at full power and is missing key memories, including that of their defeat here. Mikage and Ake, meanwhile, are still young children as far as I know. More of their essence needs to be retrieved from the labyrinths.

You may notice that Ushiro, the person we assumed was Byakko’s founder, isn’t present. Her titles and duties are passed down the family line. The person dancing with Haru is Ueda, first of the Byakko name. Ushiro has inherited his obligations to the castle, though she is unfortunately even further behind and is still a tiger cub.

The four of them were a blended family, adopted out of circumstances in their early lives. The person who cared for them all, the person who was proud to be their mother…”

The viewpoint suddenly shifted to the woman in intricate formal attire as she observed their fumbling dances. Her face glowed with joy, laughter, and love.

“…is Otohiko, who introduced herself to us as Ouryuu.”

Miyu dispelled the image, allowing for several moments to breathe as the words sunk in.

“I do not know what happened to shatter their family. All I know is that it somehow ended in Otohiko’s death, and her complete erasure from all historical records. Her magic seeped into the barren island that we call Minami-Iwō-Jima, and this school is built entirely upon her corpse. Metaphorically speaking.”

…Hopefully.

“Now that we know their names, let us get into the more pressing matter of the identity of Otohiko’s little one. The mastermind that sold us all out. When us students… pass, we become one of Otohiko’s wards. Clan Ouryuu. She’s set up a dormitory within the central Labyrinth that’s accessible only to her clan – with the implication that the unpleasant tribulations involving our keys are a punishment to intruders.

More importantly, while in her dormitory, she will personally answer any questions if we ask her. She won’t blatantly answer many topics, but she seems willing to give hints, so long as we’re polite. It’s through this that I’ve been asking her about the strange sights in the crossroads. You know the ones.”

And Miyu began to fling one image after another into the air. Most were located at the crossroads – and for many of her classmates, it was the first time they had ever directly observed the pensieve at the center of the room, pluming with pure gold smoke. This was the pensieve that only dead students were able to see and interact with.

More importantly, though, were the cat-like entities swarming the crossroads.

In some memories, Miyu only caught a fleeting glimpse of gold-colored eyes piercing through the darkness before blinking away. In others, the floor and walls of the crossroads were covered in blobby, feline-esque shadows that congregated around the center pensieve. One odd memory took place in an imperial palace with ivory marble walls, as Miyu watched the cat shadows converge upon a particular door.

…It was a bit overwhelming to see so many moving images at once.

“According to Otohiko, these shadows are side effects of dark magic running amok. She implied that the mastermind has little to no control over this. And they are connected. In fact, the shadows are taking the shape of something that is drawn to her little one.”

Y’know, like, nya?

But here came the difficult part to say. Miyu waited even longer to continue, taking deep breaths. Even now, even with the thin silver lining she had pulled from today’s shitstorm, it was still difficult to talk about. Because it meant that she had doubted the people she loved the most. And perhaps still doubted.

“…Understand that I’m saying this as a biased person, with my own loved ones I’ve sworn to protect. Understand that everyone on this list is someone’s loved one. No one is happy about this.

But if we take into account that I was the last person to pass before the cut-off mark on whether the mastermind was still alive or not, it leaves four major suspects. Clove Rosenburg. Shino Shirashi. Shizuka Matsuoka. Miwa.”

(She knew their last name, of course, but they had specifically asked her not to ever use it.)

“There is a possibility that it could be someone not on this list. Other people here have been associated with cats in one-off contexts, like sleepover conversations or labyrinths. Or, if you interpret Otohiko’s remarks differently, the cats represent a loved one of the mastermind, and we should instead look at the suspects’ partners and not the primary suspects themselves.

But I think that’s over-complicating it. Things get bad when we over-complicate our theories. We’ve proven it time and time again. Unless I see solid evidence pointing to someone else, I’ve focused on these four.

Well, three. I and a few others have found some interesting information regarding the mastermind having motive-related privileges we don’t. Maybe others can say it better than I can.”

Or maybe Miyu just feels sore from all the talking. Her voice does sound incredibly hoarse. Her stance relaxes, and Miyu takes a moment to just rest. What she wouldn’t give to be able to drink water right now. She’d have her chance later, when she could run away from her problems, but she was needed right now.

TL;DR VERSION

The names of major figures in the school’s history are as follows: Haru (Seiryruu), Ake (Suzaku), Ushiro (Byakko), Mikage (Genbu), and Otohiko (Ouryuu).

Ushiro is a descendant of Ueda, who may be the true Byakko founder.

Otohiko adopted Haru, Ake, Ueda, and Mikage as her children. The event that led to their current hostility is still unclear.

The magic on the island is Otohiko’s magic, a remnant after her death.

The Seiryuu pensieve no longer exists and is replaced by a door.

Otohiko claims dead students as part of Clan Ouryuu, provides them a dormitory, and is more willing to interact with them.

Cat-like shadows have been appearing in the labyrinth crossroads. They seem to have a connection to the mastermind.

Miyu admits that this evidence suggests four prime suspects – Clove, Kris, Shino, and Mi-ke – but apparently has more details to say about them. Other suspects are still possible.

[mechagalaxy]

Legio Patria Nostre: The Legion is our Fatherland

Legio Patria Nostre: The Legion is our Fatherland

I was born Takedo Ita, son of Hitari Ita.  I graduated from Sun-Zhang Academy and took command of my first mecha ten years ago.  For all that time I have served the Emperor proudly, and without blemish.  That time is over.

I was on the run.  I had been an NCO in the Mejian Shogunate.  I had won medals for standing strong when the pirates struck Edo, decorated again for the siege of Vorloth in the civil war, and a third time, but that one I don’t talk about.  The last was to shut me up, and cover up the atrocities by the Iron Princes pet mercenaries.   Whatever.  I had been a loyal sun of the Empire, but now I was on the run.

The pirates are the bane of our existence, they make trade between the worlds expensive, travel between them dangerous, but the worst problem with the pirates is that they are the claws you see, not the beast itself.  The beast itself isn’t found on the outworlds, isn’t found on a moon full of Snavurm, or a fog covered world of cannibals.   No, the beast is found in the boardrooms, in the Noble Houses, in the very Ministries of our glorious Empire, the patchwork Cogwork, and the haughty and corrupt Illyrian Hegemony.  The beast has always been inside, and those who rule us let it in.

I was deputy to the Ordinance officer of the 7th Division Dai-Nana Shidan.  We were the heaviest regular force division in the Imperial Army, and held the border with the Prince of Flowers breakaway state.  As we are so close to a former internal enemy, we do not trust our intelligence to be uncorrupted, and they feel the same about us, so everyone watches everyone else, and no one shares all they know.

It was fear that our arms were being diverted by agents of the Prince of Flowers that led me to risk going against orders and placing our own tracking devices on the specialized shielded containers used to move key engine boosters, cockpit equipment, and chassis assemblies.  Too much of what was in the budget as procured for us, never made it to our ranks.  If we had all the weapons and equipment purchased in our name, we could challenge the AFF, and drink sake from their cherished silver skulls, but no such weight of niode has ever been possessed by regular force units, even elite ones like my own.

We had been able to track the beacons, as they only kindle after two gate passages.  Rather than simply showing a return to us with our parts, fully half of my beacons were showing lit in Ragesh III, a nothing little agricultural colony over in Illyrian space.  I ordered my alert platoon to armour up, and, at the head of my Magnus squadron, in my cherished Boreas, I set out to take back our stolen goods, and expose the traitors.

What followed has been reported otherwise, but here is the truth.  Gun camera pictures back me up.  My squadron hit the pirates, and were able to shatter their initial line with ease.  We recovered the carriers and were in the middle of interrogating the pirates when the head pirate burst out laughing.  When I told them that I knew about their support for the Prince of Flowers, she laughed so hard my first three punches were insufficient to stop her.  Finally she spat blood in my face, and told me it was the wrong Prince I named, and that I had no idea what I was messing with.

The Iron Guard came charging in, the Prince of Iron’s own bodyguard Regiment had sent a squadron. I hailed them with the news that I had recovered our goods, and had prisoners to interrogate, ones that were making claims about the Iron Prince that were insulting and obviously spurious.

The pirate heard me, and stopped laughing “Buddy, you just killed us all” I had time to figure out what she meant.  The Iron Guard closed not at the march, but in battle array.  Our first clue there was a problem was when they opened fire on us.  My mecha was frozen, unable to respond, then shut down. I watched my men get slaughtered, then the prisoners, then the freight handlers, then the precious cargo itself was melted down into slag.  

They came to open my cockpit and kill me, but I hit the cockpit ejection control, and the explosive release killed two of the team, my bullets took the stunned remaining three.  I got my machine back online and fled.

I came to join La Legion Entranger, the Foreign Legion.  A legion of Shogunate Exiles who make war for whoever will hire them.  The banner reads Legio Patria Nostre: The Legion is our Fatherland.  What a joke, I have no fatherland.

I finished their version of basic training, which was brutal, but a chance to forget for a while, and to learn about my new companions.  Scum, half of them on the run from something, more than half.  The rest were aimless drifters who needed to test themselves, or had just figured out they were too dangerous to be wandering around off someones leash. I don’t know where I fell at this point.

We finished our graduation, and were awarded a stupid hat, a white tailed Kepi.  I can’t stand the silly thing, they make you look like a lop eared rabbit.  The Legion is no homeland, just a place to hide until I can think about a way to finance running farther from the Shogunate.

I came to the enrolling officer, a dapper little Frenchman with a pencil mustache and a degree of facial scarring that let you know the over bred fop air concealed a dangerous and experienced killer.

“Ah yes, Legionnaire, I must ask, by what name will you be known.  What nom-de-guerre will you take?”

I growled at him “Takedo Ita!”

Sliding at data slate over to me, he showed a bounty on my head of two hundred niodes.  The average Legionnaire would cheerfully cut your throat for the cost of a beer. I began to shake.

The officer was still talking.

“My XO, you may know her as Lt Diana Virtue was born under a family that had too great a fondness for alcohol, and not enough for child care, and languished most of her life under the name Ima Hooker.  She had amassed a lot of rage from that name before shedding it. I must say, she really became a much more stable and balanced Legionnaire when she shed that name.  Myself, I once bore another name, and suffered a small matter of a duel over my sisters honour.  Unfortunately I won, less fortunately the father of the boy I killed would not let it lie until two more of the fools brothers were also dead, and that feud would follow me as long as I lived, so the Legion gave me the chance to be born again”  He tapped his name plate and twirled his mustache.

“I think the Prince of Iron has grown unfond of you, and yet you did not run to the Prince of Flowers.  I do not think you look at all like this fugitive murderer and traitor Takedo Ita.  No, I think you are Legionnaire Rusty Thorn.  Is that right Legionnaire?”

It finally sunk in.  The Legion would cut anyones throat for the price of a beer, but we would not harm a hair on one of our owns head, not for any Emperor, Minister or CEO.  Loyal to our own, if not a whole lot else.

“Yes sir!  Legionnaire Rusty Thorn, reporting for duty.”  I signed and thumbprinted my contract.  Stepped back and put on my white Kepi and snapped off a crisp salute.

“Legio Patria Nostre!”  I shouted

“Legio Patria Nostre!”  he replied.  “It really is boy, it really is”

I was born under another name, but I was reborn in my Clan, in the Foreign Legion.  I am one of a band of scum for hire, but we are a people unto ourselves, a warrior clan.  The Legion is my Fatherland, and I would die for it.  You, on the other hand, have to pay, half up front, if you want the right to send us to die.  Dirty deeds are not, actually, done dirt cheap.

John T Mainer 28840

[twruniversity-blog]

Accepted Nyo!Japan

Yo, yo! Welcome!

Get all your stuff in within the next three days, aiight?

OOC;

Name: Zip!

Age: 17

Pronouns: they/them Activity: 6~7

Contact: @eliizas.tumblr.com

Ships for Muse: If anyone wants to rp any ship, I’m open to mostly anything lol, just tell me before hurtling someone @ her~

Timezone: EST / GMT-5

Triggers/Sensitive Subjects: pedophillia, and any relationship that is built on / has a very wide age gap.

Any Concerns?: none whatsoever!

IC;

Character: Nyo Japan

Full Name / Preferred Name: Takahashi Sachiko, and she prefers to be addressed in eastern order until she says otherwise.

Age: 19

Birthday: April 29th

Gender: (Cis) Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Housing: Miromiro Hall- shared room

Pets: A probably over-fed rabbit named Dango, he’s fat and lazy and lives under her desk when she’s in class.

IC - In Depth;

Magical Branches: Water and Light

Ahurei (Unique Ability): Magical Calligraphy- Sachiko’s writing has always been influential, and when she writes it looks more like art than written word. Writing an emotion, such as “love”, can leave people feeling warm all over all day after they see it. When she puts the character for “tree” down on paper, people who read it feel a sudden urge to go out into nature. Currently, she’s working on how to convert this power into Latin letters and music.

Major/s: Poetry and Water

Minor/s: Composition

Type of Degree: Bachelors with Honours

Clubs: Dueling, Social Orchestra (Pianist), Debating, and Volleyball (she needs to cHILL)

Appearance: Sachiko does not, personally, believe that she needs to put a lot of effort into looking presentable, but she knows that they way people perceive her is very important. She keeps her hair trimmed neatly and well-maintained, tying it back behind her when she doesn’t have time to work with it. Light makeup is also necessary for day to day life, and aside from that, she gets exercise with volleyball and has a healthy diet that keeps her in decent shape.

She stands at a “modest” height of 150 centimeters, or 5’0’’, and can’t be bothered to make herself look taller. Sachiko is naturally demure looking, with a small frame, flat chest, and a small spattering of freckles on her nose. She uses this to her advantage almost everywhere she goes, taking over debates people got sloppy on, surprising her enemy in dueling club, and writing essays that are almost as tall as she is.

Her face is what really makes her stand out from her fellow students, however. Framed by inky black locks, she has a pleasant, heart-shaped face. Her hair is cut “sensibly” most of the time, and right now it’s shoulder length and in need of a trim. Even though her hair is lovely, though, Sachi’s eyes are what she always claims to be her best feature. Lovely and almond shaped, they’re the colour of freshly-brewed coffee and hold more knowledge than her brain ever could. Though she can play the part of the unassuming international student well enough, her eyes betray her. In class they’re sharper than anyone else’s, with those she loves they’re incredibly soft, and when studying they’re ravenous for knowledge. You can pass her off as just another young kid taking on more than she can chew at TWR, but not after looking into those eyes.

Headcanons:

Has crazy neat handwriting and once sold her notes in highschool for 1100 yen.

Can cook very well, but is too lazy to and survives off of ramen and coffee like any proper college student.

Develops romantic (and platonic!) crushes very easily and is a steadfast believer in love at first sight.

Needs glasses, but usually wears contacts because she hates how her wire-rims look.

Personality:

Sachiko is cool as a cucumber, unless literally anything doesn’t go according to plan. In school she’s a tiny devil, raising her hand to correct the teacher and debating PhDs until they cry. Seeing people- upperclassmen and lowerclassmen, it doesn’t matter- address her as “Takahashi” fearfully is nothing new in the hallways of TWR. But anywhere else she’s an easily flustered geek, who puts Pokemon stickers on her notebooks and always has paired socks.

Sachi has the unfortunate frame of mind that all failure is equal, and if she gets a question wrong on one test she beats herself over it for days. Even though she’s basically seen as ‘goals’ by every other student, her need to impress people and repeatedly prove her worth leads her to sleepless nights, caffeine binges, and permanent inkstains on all of her sleeves.

As the youngest child and baby of the family, she was always pressured into being pure, and innocent. While she doesn’t like being forced into that role, and considers herself neither of those things, the old habits die hard. She apologises easily, speaks softly, and lets herself be dragged into things she doesn’t want to do.

As for how she differs from Kiko, well, she takes longer to show people her drier, more insolent side and is much more hesitant to act out. But she does accept people as friends into her life faster than him, and is slightly more outgoing.

Strengths:

Intelligent- Sachiko has a brilliant mind, and isn’t at all prone to hide that fact. Though she isn’t a prodigy by any means, her dedication to her studies and natural ability got her farther than most people dream.

Level-headed- While it’s difficult to keep your head, especially during finals week, Sachiko tries her damndest and often succeeds. She has an excellent head for strategies and plans, schedules most things and is often punctual. This isn’t to say she doesn’t have emotions- she has a lot of them, she’s just better at shoving them to the side when she needs to get down to business.

Polite- Raised in a very high society, and also expected from birth to be unassuming and gentle, Sachiko learned manners before she could walk. It earns her points with professors, smiles from cashiers, and a great advantage when schmoozing up to people. Of course, if she knows you well enough or is just plain fed up, she won’t hesitate to be blunt.

Weaknesses:

Insecure- Sachiko was raised on the idea that she was destined to be a genius who preserves her family without fail. As her other siblings shot higher and higher, she was under more and more pressure to become something nearly impossible: perfect. All of that pressure got to her, to the point where she considers a ‘96’ a “bad grade” on a test, and is very self-deprecating when she messes up even slightly.

Anxious- Social events with more than three people? Terrifying. A creative writing final she only prepared for two days in advance? The worst monster she could imagine. While she can usually put it off until the last minute and use it as a motivator, when it gets to her, her anxiety hits her hard.

Easily Flustered- Sachiko, of course, isn’t a stranger to the idea of close friends hugging, or holding hands. And she definitely knows that westerners are much more… open about things than she’s used to. That doesn’t stop her from going beet red when an arm is slung around her shoulders, or when she overhears someone “bragging” about their exploits.

Backstory:

Ever since she was able to walk, Sachiko has noticed that there were certain things expected of her. As the youngest child of an old, historic family in Japan’s magical community, she was already placed on a pedestal, shown off to anyone who would look and cooed at by utter strangers. From the moment she began to display magical abilities associated with Light and Water, expectations rose higher. She was the only one of the three Takahashi children to inherit their mother’s gift of White Magic, and while her sisters were both incredibly talented in their own fields, you can’t shake off the reputation associated with Light magic. Her sisters, both excelling in school yet already being overshadowed by a toddler, grew resentful of their younger sibling. With two prominent magical beings as your parents, you’re left alone a lot, and while her sisters would console each other during thunderstorms, Sachiko was left to hide under the blankets by herself.

And when the time came for a rather large thunderstorm to take away their parents at sea, Sachiko was left alone. Her older sisters, Tomiko and Yuuma, had both turned eighteen weeks prior, and neither wanted to take in Sachiko to live with them. She bounced from relative to family friend to tutor until age ten, when she was officially adopted by her mother’s sister. There, in that cold, empty, house Sachiko began to remember what it felt like to be shown off. Her aunt paraded her around like a showpony. She wore long, pastel robes in public, let her hair be grown out, let her aunt do the talking for her. There were days when she forgot her name wasn’t ‘the last master of the White Arts in the Takahashi lineage’, she heard it so often.

At home, though, life was different. Her aunt held her to ridiculous standards, watching from the corner of the room as she practiced the piano or edited an essay like an ominous cloud. Scolded her with harsh words when she was caught messing with the water in the koi pond or talking to old friends. Little by little, “distractions” mysteriously disappeared from her life; girls and boys at school stopped speaking to her, notebooks she wrote poetry in vanished, and forms for clubs were disposed of as soon as she stepped through the door. Sachiko’s free time was now spent doing homework, practicing magic, or playing piano. It was as if she had been blotted out by a drop of ink, forced into a period of isolation.

That is, until she turned fourteen, and her application to Te Wānanga Ruānuku Academy was accepted. Dressed in traditional clothes and armed with a cheap notebook she had bought at the airport, Sachiko was ready to go out into the world and make her family proud. Tomiko had gone to a good, local medical school, and Yuuma had gotten into the most prestigious water-based academy there was, but Sachiko was going to watch history happen. She had never left the tiny “erased” island in the middle of the Japanese Archipelago, and on her first day away she was going to be surrounded by people from across the world!

Which was, actually, the most terrifying thing she could think off.

As soon as she got through customs and was seated on the flight, people were staring. Staring at the young girl dressed even younger in old-fashioned clothes, staring at the girl with hair past her waist pinned back with combs from a tradition they had never seen before. It was harrowing- she was used to the stares, but not these kinds of stares, like she was a- a freak.

When she arrived at the Academy, the first thing she did was sign up for extra foreign culture classes.

The second thing she did was cut her hair, and even when she gets screamed at by her aunt, she never looks back.

Sample RP:

“Eh, what?” The student leader had probably meant to say something intelligible, but the only words Sachiko could catch were ‘quickly’, ‘well’, and what might have been her name. The rest was either half-yawned or mumbled below her hearing range. “Sir, with all due respect, I think you should get some rest before you pass out behind the debate room.” Which was, from personal experience, the most embarrassing place to pass out. And Mr. Student Leader looked dangerously close to sharing her fate.

The student leader turned to her, a surprisingly indignant look on his groggy face, before swaying backwards a little too far, and-

And there he went. The debate room was supposed to be used to assist many other clubs when the debate team wasn’t in session, but the “dream prophecy” sect of divination club wasn’t on that roster. Sigh. Was there really any other choice but to help him out?

Sachiko smirks as she begins to shake Mr. Student Leader awake so she can help walk him back to his dorm. If only oba-san could see her now, helping a sleeping man back to his room!