Realistic or Modern dimension || hopping

[boyguro]

-- coming soon

rp | cs | setting | rules | ic | ooc​

 

[boyguro]

-- info

june 3rd 2017 | tampa, florida | weather 31° C / 87° F

-- plot

june third. you wake up. you go to school. you have groggy eyes and a sore throat. your science teacher surprises you with a pop quiz. the questions are hard, it seems as though everyone has failed. did we even learn any of this? the day is long. the cafeteria decides to try serving tuna fish for the first time. the entire school stinks of it, god. you get your quiz back at the end of the day. 30%. shit. on the way home a pair of kids accidentally hit your leg with a basketball. it leaves a small bruise. ouch. you go home. you go to sleep. the next day you wake up, and you have a pop quiz again. the questions look eerily familiar. your school lunch lady reannounces their new dish. didn't they say the same thing yesterday? on your way home, you see the kids again, only this time you avoid the ball.

what if you lived the same day, over and over? what if you were the only one to notice? or at least, so you thought.

it's your fourth time reliving the day. you show up to school, you sit down in first period science, and you wait. you practically have the day memorized by now. you take the quiz yet again for the fourth time, the answers are fresh in your mind. after class, your teacher calls you and eight miscellaneous others over. you all passed the quiz with 100 percent. the teacher suspects you're all helping each other cheat, however improbable due to random affiliations, and so he subjects you all to detention as the test is seemingly impossible to get a perfect a+ on. four-thirty sharp.

so. who's going to speak up first?

-- objectives & guidelines

⌲ the day will start at 7:30, in first period. timeskips will be posted ic.
⌲ your physics teacher's name is mr. strickland. he is a bitter, 47 year old man with a full head of curly grey hair, narrow green eyes and round glasses. he is often seen sporting white nike shoes that have faded into grey over ten years and cheap walmart t-shirts. he hates children and spends his free time at the dollar store.
⌲ your first post can start with them arriving, going to, or already at school (or coming in late, if you please). the only requirement is that your character(s) must take the quiz.
⌲ you must show up at the cafeteria at 12:25 where they will once again announce their "new" dish for the fourth time. whether your characters sit together or not is up to you.
⌲ you must be in room b14 on the second floor for detention at 4:30 pm.
⌲ anything from that point forward is in your hands. the basketball in the plot is just an example, you can make up your own things that have happened.
⌲ all characters must leave detention together and exchange numbers.
⌲ at some point, lowe will be brought into discussion whether by conversation or text. further conversation will begin in ep. 2.
⌲ final posts will be finished off with an introduction to their home life. this can be brief or long, however you like, we need only a small insight on their life behind closed doors.

⌲ please, do not move too quickly. we have all the time in the world. let this progress slowly and realistically. no one is going to jump right into time travel and alternate universes on the first day. the same goes for character relationships. take it slow.

-- end of first episode.

 

[slim]

STATS.-

location:
mood:
tags:

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

Devin woke up as soon as the piercing noise of her alarm clock invaded her ears. She didn't slam it down like usual, but instead laid there as the alarm continued it's onslaught. It continued for a few more seconds before making a weird sound and going dead. Exactly what it had done for the past couple of days.

Devin got out of bed and opened the cabinet of her nightstand to fish out a cough drop for her throat that was also something she woke up with every morning. She changed her outfit this time even though the pair of shorts and a tanktop that were lying over her chair beckoned to her like they did yesterday. She needed something different. She pulled on some sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt before heading into the kitchen to grab breakfast. Her brother had left her breakfast on the counter like he always did before he left for work, and Devin went through the contents. Gatorade, hot cheetos, a sandwich, and mandarin oranges in a container. Nothing new here. She put her lunch into her bookbag before getting greek yogurt from the fridge and heading out.

Devin must have lost it and was in some mental ward being treated or something because this wasn't normal. The same puddle from days ago was still on the sidewalk even though it hadn't rained. The date on her phone said it was the 3rd of June but days had passed. The bruise from some kid smacking her with a basketball was gone as well. Devin soon grew worried and found herself nearly running to Jun-Kym's house. She needed someone to talk to and she knew Jun-Kym wouldn't call her crazy to her face.


Jun-Kym poked at his vegetable omelet with his fork absentmindedly. The only things he had to eat were eggs and spinach even though yesterday he went shopping after school. Everything but what he had the previous morning was in his kitchen. He had even bought some kimchi that was now gone. His first thought was that someone broke into his house since he lived alone and didn't have roommates to worry about eating his food. But why would someone break into a poor immigrant kid's house just to steal kimchi and rice? It didn't help that they twenty dollar bill he used to buy the groceries always appeared back into his crumpled pair of jeans that laid on the ground in his room.

It all felt weird and was making Jun-Kym antsy and uncertain. He hadn't mentioned it to Devin, but he felt like she was feeling something weird was going on as well. He had texted her about it but the messages always had the little exclamation mark which meant it hadn't sent. He then tried to text a simple "hey." It went through, but he checked his phone the next day and it was gone even though he didn't delete it. These weird events made Jun-Kym feel like he was on the precipice of something dangerous.


Devin raced up the steps to Jun-Kym's house and was about to knock the door but it swung open as soon as her hand got close to the door. He already had his backpack slung over his shoulder and looked as tired as Devin was. Jun-Kym walked out and locked the door without a word and the two headed towards school. They didn't say much since neither of them really wanted to mention the weird events even though they really wanted to get it out. They were both in their imagination as they walked until they both halted abruptly at the front of a yellow house, and the gate where they would've been in front of if they hadn't stopped swung open extremely fast. A buff guy gave them the stink eye before slamming the gate open and storming off to his car. That was the fourth time this had happened, and the guy had done the same actions and was wearing the same thing.

They both headed off to school and seemed even quieter due to further confusion on what was going on. They were the first two in the classroom and sat at the frontmost seats in the class. Kids filed in and Devin waved enthusiastically to those she knew while Jun-Kym did his usual brooding thing where he looked completely uninterested in anything but really was. If he got tattoos he could really pull the brooding thing off in all honesty.

Everyone settled down after the bell rang and Mr. Strickland soon came in and set down his lunch and things on the desk. He was wearing his usual fit that always was a target of Devin's jokes at lunch.

"Nice ensemble today Mr. Strickland. I love your shirt today." Devin said, the words stale as usual since it was the fourth time she had said it. The same kids laughed as the days before and Mr. Strickland's eye's narrowed until they were nearly nonexistent.

"We'll see how peppy you'll be after this quiz," Mr. Strickland said with a snarl, and Devin smiled warmly at him. They were all passed similar quizzes from the days before which they both pretty much flew through and leaned back in their chairs when they were done. Mr. Strickland gave them an evil look from the top of the book he was reading. The weirdness that was going on was pretty troubling but was worth it to ace Mr. Strickland's quiz.

STATS.-

location:
mood:
tags:

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

 

[boyguro]

​

-- filthy.

The room was stuffy. Kostya woke to the same text message at exactly 7:01 AM he'd received four days prior, and every day after that, from Colin, who he'd so generously depicted on his contact list as "not my father", contrary to the majority of people's assumptions to which he never failed to snap back at with hostility on his tongue.

[7:04 AM - not my father]: Don't forget to pick up a carton of milk on your way back. Cash is on the kitchen table.
[7:05 AM - kostya]: k

Thus, Kostya staggered out of bed, a great patch of uncombed hair sticking out from the side of his head, a reek of body odor hovering over the room despite having showered last night, and the night before that, and the one before that. He pulled on the same faded out beer propaganda shirt and smelly jeans he had laying on his desk chair, even though he'd put them away in his closet for the past three evenings, the first pair of shoes coming to sight which he had no doubt were the same as the preceding days and slumped downstairs into the kitchen where, once again, a pile of dollar bills and loose coins lay on the counter top. Grumbling irritatedly, convinced that the entire world was playing some practical joke on him, he once again pocketed the money, however this time with no intent to purchase a gallon of milk for the fourth time. Maybe a soda instead.

The sniveling and cautious whispers of his fellow peers and variant younger students crowded around the school bus stop was nothing new, a good two to three feet depending on how irritated he seemed that day of space between him and his peers. Suffice to say, the antic of it all was more than enough to aggravate him, and the usual circle of empty around him was much larger than usual. Seven sixteen AM, the bus would arrive in exactly forty-eight seconds, and the routine nuisance that was Dillon Cormick would further his morning distress in about three, two, one-

"Hey champ, you scaring all the sophomores?" Dillon belched, accompanied by the slap of a hand on the back of his neck. Kostya gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled before raising his arm and tugging Dillon's hand down forcefully, issuing him a tight-lipped smile.

"Just doing my job," he grinned, letting go of his wrist and readjuting his backpack. Twenty-one seconds. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

"Aah, someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin'?" Dillon continued, laughing half-heartedly and poking his head over the sidewalk to spot the oncoming yellow blob rounding over the street corner. The floor.

"Floor, actually," Kostya responded mockingly as the bus came to a halt, the sealed doors squealing uncomfortably as they opened. Kostya looked over to Dillon and stretched his hand out. "Ladies first." Dillon scoffed nervously, wanting to fire back sarcastically though very hesitant to do so, mounting the stairs and setting on one of the back rows, Kostya following behind, slumping two rows in front of him. Kostya shrunk back into his seat, squeezing his eyes shut for just another minutes rest as the bus picked up speed down the road. Eleven seconds. He already knew what was going to happen, he already knew no matter how harshly he willed it away it would happen, he'd already tried everything he could the last three times. Distracting the driver, asking him to stop, making a ruckus, delaying it. It didn't matter. It always happened. Four seconds. Maybe he was losing his damn mind, he sure as hell hoped so, it'd make more sense than any of this, maybe he was living in a neverending dream like some Inception shit. None of the options did him much justice, but he wasn't about to go see another shrink and he definitely hadn't been tripping, not for the past few weeks. Christ, nothing made any sense. Not that it ever did, not with him. But this was just-

Thump. Kostya didn't shiver this time, already desensitized to it. A few people stood from their seats to clamor, out of the corner of his eye Kostya saw the driver flinch, slow down for a second and then push his foot back down on the pedal. After a few minutes the exclaims and proclaims quieted down to the usual dull chitter-chatter of superficial teenagers and Kostya let his forehead hit the window, staring down at the road. Another Monday.

-

The eternally miserable pot.belly that was Mr. Strickland slammed a stack of papers down on his front desk. "Mr. Molotov," he declared annoyingly. Kostya smiled, slowly shutting the door behind him and stepping into the classroom, immediately scouring the room, fully aware of everyone's eyes on him. 7:34 AM.

"Mr. Strickland," Kostya replied, saluting him with two fingers. Glancing over the desks for somewhere to sit, Kostya's eyes immediately shot towards a blob of white and a head full of wild hair accompanying it. Devin. Kostya stopped in his tracks, eyeballing her from head to toe. No. It wasn't possible. He trudged to a shrimp-looking kid sitting next to her, nodding his head at him in a you better get up before I make you manner, throwing his bag down on the floor and leaning over as soon as he scrambled.

"Your clothes are different."

-- stats.

speed: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▰▰▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

-- misc.

-- location: classroom
-- mood: suspicious
-- tags: slim

​

 

[soggychips]

lilo arabella godfrey.

speed // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
strength // ■ ■ ■ □ □ □
dexterity // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
stamina // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
durability // ■ ■ ■ □ □ □

Lilo rolled over in her bed to face the clock on her bed-side table exactly one minute before it rang. She lay there with bloodshot eyes and a pounding headache, waiting for the alarm to go off. 6:00 AM. Beep beep beep. She quickly reached to shut it off, rolled over onto her back, and stared straight up at the ceiling. She had realized her days were repeating yesterday, on the third repetition of the days. Lilo had been trying to do everything to go out of her way to change the day, but there was no change. She even unplugged her alarm in the middle of the night, yet somehow it still managed to ring exactly at 6:00 AM. These repetitions were seriously messing with her head. "3... 2... 1..." She muttered groggily under her breath. "Li', get'cha ass outta bed- what you waitin' for, room service? Cuz' you ain't getting shit," Her uncle yelled in a harsh tone as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom wearing the same exact things as the past three days. Dark wash jeans with a hole in the pocket, white ankle-length socks, a pair of white off-brand sneakers stained with dirt, a ratty old band t-shirt that was so old you could barely see the brand, and a black baseball cap. Usually she would have had a witty comeback and he would tell her to stop being a smartass and to watch who she's talking to before she gets her head smacked, but she was completely out of it today. She lay there motionless, continuing to stare upwards as she counted each bump of the popcorn textured ceiling. She decided that she would continue to do this for the rest of the day and see what happened; to test the repetition. After about ten minutes, her curiosity gave in and her back was uncomfortable. "Fuck it." She muttered. Lilo sat up on the side of her bed slowly, entered the unusually cold hallway (which she had each of the three mornings prior), and took a left into the bathroom to get ready for school.

On her way out of the door, Lilo checked the time on her phone. Despite having stalled this morning for ten minutes, she still managed to be outside at 6:28 AM, just like the past three days. As she began to mount her bike she quickly backed up and repositioned herself. The past three mornings she had cut her ankle on a sharp piece of metal sticking out from her bike, but instinctually avoided it this time around. She headed out on her bike towards school. As she biked down the bike lane on the side of the road, she noticed a jet black motorcycle stopped at a red light to the right of her. "Fuck, I miss my bike," She had this same thought while passing the same motorcycle over the past three days. Lilo shook her head with a confused expression plastered across her face, but quickly shook the confusion. She knew if she thought about it too much she'd go crazy, and just decided to wait this day out.

Lilo reached the campus at 7:24, same as the last few days; what a shocker. She locked her bike on the same spot of the same stand, ran past the same blonde-haired girl almost bumping into her, walked down the main hallway past the same people at the same lockers, overhearing the same conversations. As she walked down that hallway, she felt (and looked) completely dazed. Due to her loss of attention, she stumbled over the same orange backpack covered in the same pins. One tie-dye, one alien, one of a star, and one with a cluster of red and pick hearts on a black background. "Sorry." Lilo said in an apathetic tone with the same dazed expression as her eyes met a stereotypical artistic tumblr girl with wide-brimmed amber glasses and a black bob cut.

She made it to class at exactly 7:31, and of course, you guessed it, the same time as every day. She looked around for the seat she always sat in. That seat was the only constant that didn't make her question her sanity because she sat there every day anyway. But today there was a short, skinny, shrimpy-looking kid in her seat- probably a freshman. He was glancing over at Kostya with a fearful look in his eyes, like an abandoned puppy. Lilo stood at the front of the door frowning at Kostya and Devin. Devin was wearing different clothes than the past few days, and Kostya was sitting next to her talking, which defied the constants of the past three days. Still locked in her dazed head, Lilo didn't realize Mr. Strickland repeating her name until the 7th time, to where he practically had to scream her name. "Lilo Godfrey!" He stood up from his seat and called out loudly, obviously very agitated. She blinked a few times and they stared at each other for a moment. "God- are you braindead? Take a seat." He shook his head as he sat back down, keeping an eye on her as she made her way to the seat directly behind Devin. Lilo stared at her- and not in the usual "damn she's hot" kind of way, but more of a "what the fuck is going on how come the past three days have been repeating themselves and all of a sudden you showed up to school and broke the repetition what is this who am i am i dead is this hell or purgatory im scared" kind of way- y'know?

location // home, classroom
outfit // here

boyguro slim

 

[p y u]

Saffron Maynard

stats-

speed // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
strength // ■ □ □ □ □ □
dexterity // ■ ■ ■ ■ □ □
stamina // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
durability // ■ ■ ■ □ □ □

misc.-

location: Home ---> Mr. Strickland's room
mood: Uneasy
tags: N/A

It had been another sleepless night for Saffron, for he had a hypothesis: the world was, in fact, ending. Well, maybe not ending per se, but something was really, really wrong. His ocean blue eyes scanned the clock on his desk as it flashed a strangely daunting number; 6:45. It looked smug in its position on the smooth face of the alarm, haunting, a foreshadowment of how the day would play out. He knew it all by now, the black ¾ shirt he supposedly wore the day before would be sitting on the chair beside him when he rolled over in a minute, even though he had put it in the laundry basket last night after dinner. The cup noodles he had eaten the morning before would be on the counter, and the mailman would give him an uncomfortable sort of half-smile as he pushed various letters into the P.O. box of the Saf’s apartment complex. It was awful. He felt sick. However, his innate sense of justice outweighed his ability to miss even a single day of school, so he begrudgingly rolled out of bed, cursing his incredible work ethic.

Saf skipped breakfast this time, settling for the largest, strongest cup of coffee he could make in the time given, as he had stupidly sat in the shower for a good half an hour before mustering the courage to face the day. He usually could fit his morning existential crisis into a fifteen-minute window, but he figured since the day would hold no deviation from the last three, it wouldn’t matter by tomorrow. He began ambling to school at exactly the same time as all the other days-- it didn’t seem to matter how much time he had spent getting ready, as soon as he was out that door, the exact same birds chirped, the same clouds shielded the rising sun in a pinkish haze, his skin would prickle at the exact same breeze that flitted by-- it was beautiful agony. He hated it.

Arriving at school was nothing special, and almost seemed normal if everyone hadn’t been wearing the same outfits for four days in a fucking row; but Saf supposed by those standards he blended in perfectly, seeing as he also did and said the exact same things this past week. He was afraid that by not abiding by those ‘rules’, he would rip the whole space-time continuum or something. He hadn’t worked out the details, it was just a likely hypothesis in his own mind.

By the time class had started, Saf was already nestled in the back of the class, gawking at the scene in front of him. Devin, dressed in a completely different outfit, and Lilo not paying attention as Mr. Strickland irritably repeated her name for the seventh time before practically squawking like a banshee. This didn’t sit well with Saf, for more than one reason. First, if something was to drastically change in this timeline, what would that mean for their past selves? Additionally, what would happen to time itself? Ripples could occur, overlaps, maybe even destruction… It seemed like a lot to worry about for a few little deviations, but time was like a domino effect. What if someone who had complimented Devin’s outfit before didn’t stop to say anything this time? What if that person, having not stopped to experience that exchange, could cruise through the day a few seconds ahead of usual? What if that person, crossing the street four seconds before they had yesterday, got hit by a car? That person being absent from the world will not be able to have a child they could have possibly had if they were alive, that child never becoming the person they were supposed to be, never having children of their own, starving the world of perhaps a whole generation of people. The weight of every possible decision weighed on Saf heavily, restricting his breath into nothing more than tiny wisps of air.

How could someone care about the welfare of humans so much? Saf isn’t sure himself, really. All he knows is that too much change is frightening, and the fact that things aren’t traveling at the rate they’re supposed to be makes him fearful of what’s to come, and rightfully so.

 

[nymphadora.]

dean connor vegas

they were high as fuck. again.

dean woke up to the sweet smell of weed flowing through the cramped apartment, burning through his nostrils and waking the young male up with ten minutes to spare before he had to run to the bus. he quickly dressed himself with a pair of jean and a grey shirt which he found on his clothes chair. you know the one, that one specific chair covered in clothes and shit you can't even tell that it's a chair? well that chair had dean's entire wardrobe which wasn't very much. dean slipped a pair of ruined converse sneakers over his large feet and raced out his bedroom with his bag bouncing on his back behind him.

dean stopped in his tracks as he noticed his little sister and his uncle relaxing on the dirty, brown velvet couch with joints resting in between their finger tips. the male rolled his eyes at the pair who were higher than jesus himself, it's been nearly four days since he's caught the pair of them smoking weed and using up their supply to sell to some wackos or pale emo chicks on the streets. he found it strange when he thought about it, rick loved money and weed, so why would they waste it all? dean didn't have time to question it though, the male grabbed a bruised apple and left the apartment in a hurry.

he didn't leave any time to walk and enjoy the view, dean ran as fast as he could. he kept his gaze focused on the bus stop while trying to eat around the bruised apple at the same time. as dean went to take about bite at his apple, a little kid smashed into his side. "what the fuck?" dean gasped as he watched his apple drop to the dirty floor. his heart broke into two as he watched his breakfast fall to the ground. dean flickered his gaze to the bus and the apple as he questioned his morals. was it too late to for his apple? before he could make a decision, he heard the bus driver yell out his name in rage. dean released a disappointed sigh as he stood up from the ground and headed to the bus with his head hanging low.

dean payed for his ticket in silence while the 90-something-year-old bus drive glared angrily at him. the male flickered a smile at the bus driver before he began his search for a seat. dean's eyes scanned for a free seat, preferably away from the freaks of the school. a small smile curled upon his lips when he noticed his friend jaroslawa sitting nearby a window. "yo," dean hummed as he sat down next to jaroslawa, "what's up jarslaw."

misc

location:
home > bus
mood:
tired
tags:
boyguro

stats

speed:
■ ■ ■ □ □ □
strength:
■ ■ □ □ □ □
dexterity:
■ ■ □ □ □ □
stamina:
■ ■ ■ □ □ □
durability:
■ ■ □ □ □ □

 

[boyguro]

-- stats.

J
speed: ▰▰▰▰▱▱
strength: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
durability: ▰▱▱▱▱▱

R
speed: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

-- misc.

J
-- location: classroom
-- mood: intrigued
-- tags: nymphadora. slim soggychips

R
-- location: classroom
-- mood: afraid
-- tags: nymphadora. slim soggychips

A familiar voice beckoned one half of the Dvorak Duo as Jaroslawa looked up from her piercing glare out the window, her eyes meeting with her partner in crime, Dean Vegas, who plopped down on the seat next to her, usually occupied by her puppy-like brother, however this morning, much like the last four she'd noticed, he'd decided to sit with his friend Elijah Nowak two rows behind her. No surprise to her, the company was expected and she greeted him with a wryly smile despite the nickname he'd so lovingly given her years back upon their first meeting. She'd never admit it, but it had started to grow on her. "Comrade," she responded, a sly undertone of sarcasm, though not coating her genuine like for him.

Six seats behind the two troublemakers, Radovan laughed at the same photo of a duck Elijah had shown him for the past four Mondays. The repetition certainly frightened him, but the joke was still funny, and somehow managed to lighten up his mood just a little. He peered over the rows in front of him, noticing Dean sitting down next to his sister and waving at him as usual, though not receiving a response. He didn't see me, he thought to himself. Radovan knew Dean wouldn't wave back, nor would he take notice of him, and ironically enough that fact comforted him for the time being. If he'd turned around and shaken his hand at him, that'd mean something had changed, and then what?

He still hadn't told Jaro, and she hadn't done any differently. An hour prior, the two had awoken exactly three minutes and twenty two seconds apart, Jaroslawa being the first and going downstairs, making breakfast for Radovan, Aleksandr and herself, whilst Volodya remained upstairs in his room snoring away in a paradise of dreams about casinos and virgins. Neither of the twins could make up their mind whether he deserved the rest or not. He'd been leaving the house and coming back at inhumane times, always exhausted and ready to collapse on the sofa in front of the TV. Tired from what? They didn't know. And they didn't necessarily want to either.

"Jaro, pass the juice," Aleksandr had belched out during breakfast, a mouth stuffed with cereal. Radovan squeezed his eyes shut and just as he knew it would, the carton smashed onto the floor and spilled everywhere. Jaroslawa knew very well that this would happen, but she and her brother thought alike, and she was careful not to break symmetry with the past few days, even if it meant having to clean the kitchen floor every morning, for as long as this thing would last.

Minutes later, their classmate Kostya Molotov climbed the bus with a sea of other students before the bus rolled over a bump, not bothering to stop and check what it had been or if anything had been injured. Radovan cringed. Jaroslawa remained silent, then turned to Dean and nudged his shoulder, making sure he wasn't falling back asleep. "Not today, Vegas. You'll need your brains this morning," she commented. Dean stared back at her and neither said anything for a few moments before returning back to silence.

-

Perfectly timed, Jaroslawa and Dean strolled into the classroom a mere few minutes into the lesson just as Mr. Strickland begun his daily miserable rant at one of their students. Radovan, who'd already taken his seat in one of the middle rows before the start of class waved his hand in the air at them, motioning them to sit in the free seats on his right. They did as following and slipped into the open chairs, Jaroslawa taking out a few pens from her backpack and upon looking up and setting them on her desk she immediately picked up on the plain white shirt and sweatpants sat in front of her. That wasn't there yesterday. She peered over to her side to see who was sat there, guessing Devin as that had been the seating arrangement since the first Monday, her guess turning out to be correct. But how could that be? How could she look different? Was she aware? Was someone playing a joke on her and slipped up?

Evidently she wasn't the only one who had taken in the sudden change of attire, as Kostya scared a kid out of his desk next to her and leaned in over his shoulder, whispering something to her. Jaroslawa turned to Dean and nudged his leg with her pencil, nodding her head towards Devin and Kostya. "Does something look different to you?" she asked, not sure what to expect for an answer.

 

[slim]

STATS.-

location: classroom
mood: worried
tags: boyguro

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▰▰▱▱
strength: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▰▰▱▱
durability: ▰▱▱▱▱▱

Devin's face heated up a little bit as she felt eyes on her. The few minutes she spent filling in the correct bubbles on her test had distracted her but now she was fully aware. Devin huffed and pulled some strands of hair over her face and twiddled her thumbs until she heard the familiar deep voice that misery seemed to follow like a dog begging for scraps. Her thoughts were confirmed when she heard a squeak of a smaller kid as he collected his bookbag and scrambled to another chair.

"Your clothes are different."

Devin didn't acknowledge Kostya for a while and instead focused on her best friend looking like a deer caught in the headlights when she walked through the door and paused like an idiot. A loveable idiot.

"Yes Kostya, I changed my clothes. That's what people do when they're sick of the same boring drab." Devin said this line coolly before Lilo got out of her stunned state and found her way to the seat behind Devin and she gave Lilo a small smile. Devin's mind was spinning like a hamster wheel, however. Everyone else was still wearing the same outfit as they had done the past three days and then acted like she came in with her hair shaved off when she decided to wear something different than she had worn the past few days. What was happening?

She started to feel kind of panicked and worried and felt sick, like she was having anxiety attacks she used to have more frequently when she was little. Mr. Strickland's presence solidified the thought that she wouldn't be able to be excused to go to the bathroom to calm herself down so Devin laid her head on her desk and tried breathing in for 8 seconds and exhaling for 8 seconds. Everything was fine, it was just one of the world's bloopers. Her nauseousness calmed down and she was able to sit back up and sweep the hair plastered to her face away. She still felt agitated and so hopped up from her desk and turned to the rest of the class.

"Does anyone have a comment on my outfit? Do you want the name of the store I got it from? Want to go on a fucki-" Devin was cut off by Mr. Strickland slamming a textbook on her desk which caused her to jump back like she was shocked.

"I don't know what's going on in your heads today but keep it up and you'll be in detention until you graduate. Now, sit down and shut up for all that's holy in the world. You kids are like parasitic, I swear." Devin slipped into her seat and didn't even glare at the old man heading to his desk and followed his advice. She laid her head on the side of her arm so her face was towards Kostya. She tilted her head towards Mr. Strickland and roll her eyes in exasperation.

STATS.-

location:
mood:
tags:

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

 

[boyguro]

​

-- filthy.

Kostya stared at Devin, the metal feet of his chair squeaking against the floor as he continued to lean forward, he narrowed his eyes and outstretched his hand forward to touch her shoulder, noticing her sudden clear agitation as she laid her head down on her desk, her chest heaving up and down slightly, but before he could reach her she snapped up from her desk and he staggered back into his seat. "Does anyone have a comment on my outfit? Do you want the name of the store I got it from? Want to go on a fucki-" Devin's outburst was interrupted by Mr. Strickland and his favorite gesture, slamming compressed dead trees on his beaten and bruised desk.

"I don't know what's going on in your heads today but keep it up and you'll be in detention until you graduate. Now, sit down and shut up for all that's holy in the world. You kids are like parasitic, I swear," he hissed angrily and Devin shrunk back into her chair. For a moment Kostya felt a small twinge of guilt but very quickly shook it off. Surely he hadn't been the only one staring, as noted by his not-so-friendly-accquaintance Lilo's expression when she walked into the room and the whispers he'd heard behind him. Did that mean he wasn't the only one who was aware? Or were they just fucking around with him?

The class quieted down and went back to continuing with the test which they had now a remaining of twenty-seven minutes for. Kostya had every question practically burned into the back of his brain by this point, so despite his thoughts buzzing with questions and anger he flew through the test in a mere fifteen minutes. A pang of irritation swelled up in his chest and he gritted his jaw, ripping off the corner of a page from his test and scribbling down on it. I don't know what you're doing, but it stops now. Meet me outside. He stood from his chair and tossed it onto her desk, covering it with his back as he walked towards Mr. Strickland's table, quiz in hand.

"I'm finished."

"Funny. Go back to your seat."

Kostya clenched his jaw and flung his test towards Mr. Strickland. "I said I'm finished. I'm leaving." With that, Kostya snatched his things and trampled out the door, busting it open with his shoulder and slamming it closed behind him. He dropped his stuff next to him and slumped down on the ground next to the classroom door, leaning his head back on the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. Christ, I fucking hate Mondays.

-- stats.

speed: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▰▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▱▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▰▰▰▱
durability: ▰▱▱▱▱▱

-- misc.

-- location: outside classroom
-- mood: annoyed
-- tags: slim

​

 

[p y u]

Saffron Maynard

stats-

speed // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
strength // ■ □ □ □ □ □
dexterity // ■ ■ ■ ■ □ □
stamina // ■ ■ □ □ □ □
durability // ■ ■ ■ □ □ □

misc.-

location: Mr. Strickland's room ---> Corridor
mood: Uneasy
tags: boyguro

Well this certainly deviated from the events of the past three days. Maybe things were going back to normal? That was certainly something to ponder.
"You can dwell on that later," Saf chided, annoyed with his wayward thoughts-- he had to make a plan of action, to figure out what was going on. He had never taken it upon himself to delve too far into processes of many complications, other than philosophical or moral processes; this seemed like a force to be reckoned with. However, as much as Saf shied away from the sorts of complexities that these days had hidden beneath them, his thirst for answers far outweighed the insecurities he had regarding the whole ordeal. There was so much to know.

"Finish the quiz. Then maybe you can talk to Kostya."
Saf could've kicked himself for such an idea-- Kostya wasn't the easiest person to get along with, not to mention he seemed pissed beyond comprehension. But, as was mentioned before, these times called for some durable gonads. Saf sighed, quickly scribbled in the answers to the rest of the quiz, and meekly stood up from his place. He was gonna get answers one way or another.

"I don't suppose you magically finished the quiz as well, Mr. Maynard."
What an asshole. Mr. Strickland was not a fan of Saf, purely because he was lacking in proper, formal education. Saf's thesis was enough to impress the school, but not enough for this soggy bastard.

"Indeed I have sir," Saf chortled, placing his paper on the desk.
"And I'm bursting, may I go to the bathroom?"

That earned a snigger from a few other classmates, as well as Mr. Strickland himself. He never actually gave proper permission, more so just waved Saf off like a pesky fly-- but that was more than enough for Saf to make a B-line for the door.

"I wonder how much stuff is getting fucked up right now," Saf grumbled under his breath as he exited the room, closing the door slowly behind him.

Oh dear. He hadn't thought this far.

Kostya sat on the ground looking exasperated as his head rested against the wall, Adam's apple bobbing prominently against his taught neck. Within that, the throat often used for torment, and on occasion, directed toward Saf.
The male's hands became clammy as he clenched them over and over again-- what was he waiting for?

"Uh," Saf began, feeling up his neck to grasp the hot skin that lay, the thrumming of his pulse pressing against his calloused fingertips in quick repetition.
Fuck. Fuckity fuckin' FUCK. This was not going to work. There needs to be a different approach, a less indirect way of asking if this experience, this nightmare, was indeed happening to someone else. Saf has never been known for his quick thinking, so his excuse was along the lines of this:

"I hear the use of Tardigrades' resistance to X-rays can be implemented into human DNA for the use of space travel,"
It was something he had read last week in some science magazine, the source of the majority of his knowledge-- but not a great conversation starter.

"I think it could be cool."

Oh god.

 

[slim]

STATS.-

location:hallway
mood: irritated, nervous
tags: p y u boyguro

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱

Devin sighed audibly when Kostya got up and left in a rush. The crumpled piece of paper he had left on her desk itched to be read but Devin stubbornly glared at it. She watched Safron follow Kostya out and snickers from his previous joke followed him out. The slam of the door made Devin jump a little since her mind was utterly confused and she breathed deeply. Her nerves were shot and she was trying to use a breathing technique her therapist told her about. Breath in for eight seconds. Hold for seven...exhale for eight seconds again. She repeated it three times before she felt her heartbeat resume it's normal pattern. She relaxed visibly and eyed the note again before picking it up and opening it up and smoothing the crinkles. Of course Kostya would write something that seemed like you were being charged of a crime.

Devin picked up her quiz and placed it on Mr. Strickland's desk and gave him a smile that he ignored as he stared at the small laptop screen before him.

"I need to go down to the nurse. " Devin said and Mr. Strickland looked up with his normal dull expression.

"Reason?"
"Mental health." Mr. Strickland snickered at that and Devin narrowed her eyes.

"You kids are so fragile these days. Whatever, just go. If you and that other brat are going to hookup at least don't do it on school grounds." Devin's face flushed angrily before exiting the room. She was caught off-guard by the two boys literally right outside the door and she halted.

Hell, she should just go to the nurse. This day..the days before it...her brain was going haywire. She didn't need Kostya'a tantrums right now either. She stared at the two with an unreadable expression before rolling her eyes before sitting in front of the two.

"Here I am. Spit out what you need to say."


Jun-Kym had been sitting quietly as the scene unfolded and didn't really know what to make out of it. Everyone seemed to be on edge and he could feel the tension. Devin looked like she was going to freak out and Kostya wasn't helping with his obnoxious behavior. What's new?
Thankfully, he left soon after with an angry expression but left a note on Devin's desk. Jun-kym wanted to rip up the note before Devin lifted up her head but instead turned back to his quiz. Saffron soon left as well and Jun-kym looked over to see Devin sliding out of her desk and to the front of the room. He thought Mr. Strickland wouldn't let three kids out of the classroom but it seemed the man had lost all care of anything and Devin marched out. Jun-kym got up and turned his paper in and returned to a seat next to the few kids remaining. He wanted to say something but fell short and just sat there. What could he say? He felt like the world was ending? He snorted and slumped in his seat.

STATS.-

location:
mood: confused
tags: boyguro soggychips nymphadora.

MISC.-

speed: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
strength: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
dexterity: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
stamina: ▰▰▱▱▱▱
durability: ▰▰▱▱▱▱