ϙᴜᴇᴇɴ ﹙ AUTOPLAY ﹚

Misunderstanding is not the basis of conflict. Even if one were to understand the motive behind a person’s actions it would not end fighting, it would not create peace. No, understanding must be paired with connection. If people were connected, they would not only understand but they would also feel. To feel the pain of another, to feel their emotions, would that not hinder us from harming one another?

We found the Kizna System f a s c i n a t i n g! The original group behind the system had gone so far to try and find the basis of human connection only to stop short. So, we picked it up, dusted it off, and improved the system, the project. After a few test runs, we built our own city, Tomoshi, and started to select participants from all sorts of times and worlds. And here you are.

About;

Open Group

OC-friendly MFRP

Based on Kiznaiver anime but no knowledge required!

“Domestic” Setting

Optional Chat RPs

Connection System

Reward System

Original Powers & Weapons {Earn back via the Reward System!}

Cute Mascot {Gomorins}

Now open! Accepting applications & Reserves!

     { Home // Premise // Rules // Masterlist // Forms }

@nicawlette

It struck him that he hadn’t taken a bite of chocolate for some time now. Most would assume it was simply an obsession with the sweet, but in all actuality, it had been an inexplicable impulse. For so long, the only food he could taste had been chocolate. Had it been anything else, he would have been sure that he would obsessively eat it as well; it wasn’t because of his enjoyment of its taste, it was more of a reminder that he could still taste. That he hadn’t fully lost it.

It struck him that he was getting sick of it. Something about it was becoming unappealing, every time he unwrapped a bar. He would just stare at it, his mouth twisting into a grimace and his stomach turning. He’d thrown it away. There it stayed in the bin, and he could smell the expired foods.

Something was amiss. Manolo’s mouth bit his fingertips. His head hurt like a warehouse. So many things crammed inside with no room to spare. Ever since arriving here, ever since meeting that person… His mind was slowly piecing together puzzles long since scattered and forgotten. The young man in the facility, the woman lifted up and cold, the girl calling back to him.

Last night he dreamed of himself sitting in a clearing, the charred remains of a stump beside him. A shadow of hands that covered his eyes were slowly moving away their fingers, glimpses of light filtering through. His head hurt, and everything was blinding.

Jekyll was losing to Hyde, and Hyde was whispering sweet, indecipherable things to him. A soft prayer as he dug the knife in his back deeper, pulling away the blindfold and throwing the rope. The denying Jekyll in the clearing wanted to turn back to the figure hiding. The figure was nothing but a weeping man, crying out apologies.

He also wanted to face her once more, this time without his eyes wide closed. The fifth day would end, and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Crawling a cracked and broken path back, it had taken too long, right? He only laughed at his own walk; straight, staggered. Now he’d run.

Here I am… Not quite dying. My body left to rot in a hollow tree…

“…Yesterday, I thought I could taste the milk in my coffee. The scent was picking up, at least. Today… today, I found out myself savoring the vanilla ice cream I bought on a whim… I…” His head turned to the side, a headache and the scar near his left eye burned. Still, he turned back and smiled softly.

“I haven’t… I haven’t experienced anything like that in years, you know? To think I can taste other things again, I thought I was losing my mind. Maybe it’s the opposite, though. Maybe…” Another sideways glance, and his quiet pause was shattered by a shaky grin and a laugh.

“I sound stupid… What I mean is… Things are coming back to me. Memories, everything.” He lifted a palm to his chest, touching close to his heart, beating slowly and unassuming. “This doesn’t belong to me. I took it from him… My name, too,” a scratch of his cheek, “Uh, you wouldn’t know what I mean…”

“I’ll get to the heart of it now, Nicolette.” He mouthed nothing. Death had been quite an experience for the undying man. Yet his own resolve kept him from backing down. “I know I’m not Manolo Murolo now. I kinda… had a bit of a breakdown and leveled a third of a forest a while back, but… Well, I think that cleared my head enough! Haha… I’m not him, and I know who I was then. Who I am now is foggy, but… I remember. I can say it clearly now. I’m not Manolo Murolo.” An uneasy smile. A timid, nervous smile, filled with trepidation that echoed years since passed.

With MANOLO. With MERCY.

She had never truly known either of them, although one claimed to love her and the other was like FAMILY. Pathetic, wasn’t it? She was the fool then and she was a fool now. With her own two hands she’d let the boy she called her BROTHER die, too WEAK ( too USELESS ) to save him. Would it be the same? Would Manolo — or whoever this was, be lost because of her shortcomings? Although his love felt like a LIE ( a JOKE ), part of her yearned for it, requited or otherwise. To be loved by someone else, despite all flaws... was that not something everyone dreamed about? How he could love her without knowing her, she had always wondered, but she supposed it made sense now.

Or, at least it was SUPPOSED to.

They were the same, but they were also as different as two people could be. Mercutio had been gentle and kind — the opposite of her. She hadn’t deserved him or the admiration he held for her. Manolo, on the other hand, was full of mysterious smiles and lies that covered up any possibility of seeing his true self. He was the most similar of the two to her, and yet she could not find a KINDRED SPIRIT within him. She couldn’t relate. She didn’t know him like he knew her, and she didn’t love him either ( not the him he was NOW, at least ). His yearning was familiar, and perhaps that’s what made it so hard to return.

She’d felt that love from someone once before. Someone long dead.

What was she supposed to say? She wished he’d tell her, or give her some hints, at least. If he was hoping to explain things to her, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Nicolette could guess what he was getting at, but fear and a desire for BLISSFUL IGNORANCE stopped her form really admitting it to herself. She wanted to tell him to just come out and say it, but as her mouth opened, no words came out. This went on for a while, lips parting before pressing themselves together into a thin line of clear discomfort. Manolo’s — Mercy’s... this STRANGER’S struggle was painful to watch, the message even harder to stomach. How was one expected to react, being told that two people they’d known were one and the same?

     ❝ Don’t — ❞ she breathed, tone wavering, ❝ Don’t say his name... ❞

Perhaps she was in the wrong for that, because apparently the name BELONGED to him in some fucked up way, but she could stand to hear it less than she could stand to say it — so, not at all. She wished for nothing more than to leave that time behind her, but here he was, digging it up without a hint of remorse. Or maybe he did feel guilt, but she was too wrapped up in her own grief to see him as anything more than the villain. If they were both VICTIMS, if they were both HURTING, who was to blame? Mouring was so much easier when there was someone to hate, but she supposed nothing about this was fair to either of them.

     ❝ I don’t know what you expect from me... if you want me to... to call         you by that name — I won’t. I CAN’T. He’s... that boy is... GONE. ❞

GONE because she could find it in herself to say DEAD out loud, just as she could not accept that she was also deceased. Funny how powerful sorrow could be.

“The answer was meiosis. One germ cell splitting twice; in women, this results in only one living egg. P-M-A-T was, of course, prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase—the four steps of mitosis and, obviously, of meiosis as well.” Ed was trying not to gloat, but it was difficult. “Processes two inside of you. Prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase, followed by prophase II, metaphase II, anaphase II, and telophase II. Inside of you referring to you, as a woman, meaning oogenesis.”

     ❝ Ah, looks like you got me. How DISAPPOINTING. Science was never         my strong suit anyways. ❞

Not that she particularly excelled at MOST academic subjects, but she liked to think herself relatively above average considering the circumstances in which hindered any possibility of a stable education in her younger years. For the roadblocks that had plagued the majority of her childhood, she was better equipped than she probably should’ve been, but then again, that just proved the almost admirable ability most humans held to persist in the face of ADVERSITY. Still, even Nicolette was capable of admitting when she was faced with someone smarter than her ( USUALLY ). To directly oppose him in his element would be akin to inviting HUMILIATION — something she had no intentions of doing.

It was as close to the truth as anything else he’d told her.

Two hands cupped her cheeks, wiping away the trails tears had left there and tipping her chin upwards in substitute for pride. Although his voice had the same resonance, there was a softer note about it as he hushed her apologies. “AWW, IT’S ALRIGHT, KIDDO! I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO BE AN EXPERT OVERNIGHT. IT’S LIKE I TOLD YOU, WE HAVE LOTS OF TIME TO TEACH YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW FOR WHEN THE BIG DAY COMES.”

“HEY, DO YOU WANT TO SEE A MAGIC TRICK? I’LL MAKE THOSE GUYS DISAPPEAR!” The retreating backs of the other children were not entirely out of sight, unfortunately for them, as one by one each disappeared with a ‘pop’ and was replaced with a little top hat that produced a bunny. Despite the fact that all other animals were frozen in the bubble of his influence that bridged dreaming and waking, these ones wandered freely through it, scattering in whatever direction their instincts led them.

Before long, she felt hands taking hold of her face, flushed cheeks cradled gently in awaiting palms. She watched Bill with wide eyes, hanging onto his every word with the utmost FOCUS. He often spoke of this ‘BIG DAY’ though she knew not what it meant. That seemed to be intentional on his part, as Bill never gave her a clear answer when she asked, and she never pressed it. Against her better judgement she trusted him, and so she assumed that he would explain things to her when the time was right. he always did.

What happened next captured her full attention, and Nicolette watched the display of Bill’s powers with AWE and ADMIRATION. With just a simple flick of the wrist, her cruel attackers were gone, replaced with small beasts that anyone but her would’ve found horrifying. It was the stuff of nightmares, but she’d been under Bill’s influence long enough now that she saw it as nothing less than WONDERFUL. Misery was quickly replaced with joy as her arms were filled with a bundled of soft, purring fur, sobs turned into delighted laughter.

     ❝ He likes me! His name is... Bill! I love Bill! ❞ There was a pause as her train of thought shifted.