bed of roses

“Glock twenty-two. Most popular handgun for American law enforcement, favoured even higher than the nineteen due to its allowance of .40 calibre, nine millimetre ammo. Heavier, longer, with more weight in the chamber and with a harder kickback. What’s your poison, gun girl?”

Kozue didn’t even look at the other girl in the shooting range with her as she spoke, eyes instead turned downwards towards the table where she’d pulled apart her gun of choice into infinitely small components. Each spring, screw, and trigger was set out neatly before her, the cold cylinder of the barrel held reverently and delicately in her fingers. Finding the obstacle course had cheered her up enough – no more running in the halls for her. This was a bit more like home! – but a shooting range filled her with a fevered sort of nostalgia. Already, she could feel her adrenaline pumping and her breathing slowing.

For the first time ever, this underwater prison felt comforting.

Favoring the trickshooter with a small grin – she’d been smiling more than she had the whole time with recent room openings – Kozue nudged the controls on the range up to top speed so that the silhouette targets fairly flew. She’d come to this room expecting just to practice, but competition had conveniently reared its head when she’d run into Suki (that was her name, right? Suki?) and all but dragged her new companion into the range. An impromptu shooting competition was just what she needed now.

A shooting range, was the only comfort she had here. And Kozue ruined that comfort. Her eye scanned over the array of pistols and rifles, her hand brushing against them all until she lifted up a pistol. Suki felt a chill down her back and a grin stretched across her face. A very confident grin. She set the pistol down, picking another one up. She repeated this process until she found one that felt right to her and turned to face Kozue.

Kozue, who was smiling at her.

She felt a little on edge as she faced her, seeing the targets fly around. “..S..stakes.” That was the only thing she had said so far, her voice strong for how shaky it was. “..For stakes. A..and.. I won’t go e..easy on you either.” She went to load her gun full of those rubber bullets she spotted earlier. It wasn’t real, which relieved her, but she hoped for something more perhaps. 

Aiichiro squinted at her. Ishibashi. Took him a moment to recall, even though they’d all been stuck together so long. She was bleeding quite visibly. Aiichiro flexed his hand, felt the sting of the broken skin. But that was nothing like what was going on with Suki’s arms. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Or if he wanted to know.

He also pulled a face as she stammered her way through that meaningless little interaction. He’d thought she’d looked tough back on their first day here, but she was jumpy and afraid. But who could really blame her? It made him pity her, almost.

Either way, he jammed his fork down into his supper, picking at it. His mouth had felt dry and everything tasted like sawdust, ever since he’d had to watch that boy die right in front of him.

“If ya got somewhere better to be,” he said, not with malice or anything, just a worn-out statement, “Then go be there.” A pause. “And put somethin’ on your arms. Like, salve or somethin’. You’re gonna catch an infection.”

He’d had his fair share of cuts, the kinds that oozed when he moved. Grazes from turning too hard on his bike. Memories of dipping too low, clipping the pavement, thrown from the bike- he shook his head. Point was, he knew, or thought he knew, injuries like that, and Suki was clearly not taking care of them.

Why was he squinting at her. Sure, she backed up a little and looked at him with a surprised look on her face, but she didn’t know why he was squinting at her. Great, she must have put on her weird arm belts too tight, because she felt blood leak a little from the bandage. She slowly put her hand up to rub at her shoulder and avoided all eye contact with Aiichiro.

After making a face at her, he stabbed his poor food without a single word to her and she felt sweat gather at her forehead. He sounded awfully tired though, when he responded to her. She felt bad for interrupting whatever he was doing, he probably wanted to be alone. 

“Uh- hrk--” Her voice cracked and she coughed into her fist again. “W..well I mean I..” She turned over to glance at the kitchen again. “I..I apologize for interrupting your.. uh..” Suki looked down at the food on his place, he was picking at it either. “..Your meal..?” Good enough, Suki.

But something stopped her from turning away and getting the hell out of there. She paused, and frowned. “S..salve..?” Aiichiro probably knew cuts better than her, she only knew how to patch up certain wounds. 

[♬♬♬]

With the trial over and done with a number of days ago, things had more or less settled down to a usual rhythm. Except it was a usual rhythm that no longer included Michi or Tyler. Aiichiro hadn’t know them well, hardly at all, but there were always just around, and now they weren’t. 

Some people would have been left with grief or fear after the trial, but what Aiichiro felt was anger. He was angry at Tyler for stooping so low as to commit murder. He was angry at that robot for twisting their arms so hard as to make one of their own commit murder in the first place. He was angry at those among their number who had had the audacity to jeer Tyler and act so flippantly about his sacrifice. And he was angry a himself, for he felt that, somehow, somehow, he should have been able to stop this.

Aiichiro was a leader. He protected his gang, looked out for them. He knew how to keep the ones worth keeping in line, and how to weed out the ones who would bring the enterprise to ruin. He knew how to keep them safe. And he had failed. He should have done something.

But, all the same, he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Isamu was safe. The student council was safe. The Bleeding Hearts were safe. He was grateful for that. But they were safe because Tyler and Michi had died in their place and he hated himself for it.

He had just finished yet another round of beating the shit out of yet another punching bag. He’d managed to tear the bag, and tear his knuckles. He’d changed his wrappings yet again. And then he’d showered, and then meticulously combed and gelled his hair, because for fuck’s sake, everything was going wrong, and he deserved some goddamn level of decency and routine in this hell.

And so, Aiichiro Koibuchi found himself in the dining hall, working his way through a post-workout meal, too tired to feel angry. He just felt numb, Spent. He didn’t even care that someone was approaching him.

Except she was somehow doing the exact opposite. She already reopened most of her wounds in swimming. When she got dressed, sometimes she would put on her belts too tight and the blood would seep through the bandage layers. Eventually, she got tired of being extra careful to not strain herself and she wanted her arms to heal quicker. 

Though, she couldn’t do much but wait around and wait for them to heal over time. She didn’t find herself to be an impatient person, but these were getting in the way of several things. One of these things was her usual workout routine in the morning. She recalled one of the contestants on Arms Arena was talking about this special shake that some effect on your body, she was weirdly ease dropping in the conversation, so all she heard was ‘heal’ and ‘body’. 

It must do something to heal her arms, right? So, after running around the dome, she decided to change and then go into the kitchen area to make said shake.

When Suki walked into the dining hall, she didn’t seem to see Aiichiro at first, because she jumped a little when she heard his voice. 

This was one of the many times she hated seeing out of one eye only, because she slowly and very awkwardly, turned to face him. 

“..Oh.” She coughed into her fist, she had no idea who he was, but she did see him around. “Uh..” She glanced over at the place she wanted to be.

um

snorts very very loudly

12 ocs, six a day

from a dorky rp group i love very much <3

Actual size here:

Xiao stood tensely by the wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed out of habit. Not wearing a jacket felt weird. He didn’t have any other choice though, seeing as the rest of his kind of casual clothes were going to get washed. He’s never going out wearing this again. His lips pressed into a thin line as he listened to her explanation, then a hand reached up to scratch his neck.

“… Where. Do you put the detergent. And the softener. How do you turn it on anyway. What button does that. Apparently I shouldn’t mix clothes or something. I don’t really have colourful clothes.”

Why couldn’t she just do all this for him? Where was the actual assistance he asked for? Outside of sports, music, and cooking, Xiao was basically useless.

So she is going to literally instruct him step by step, hands on bitch.

“Oh, you--” She wandered off to get said detergent and softener and came back to where Xiao was. “Y..you should probably separate your c..colors and whites then..” She stared at Xiao for a while and stuck out a hand to motion for him to come over. 

hi. do you guys like pencil sketches of cute ocs switching clothes beause thats a good past time

Luckily, it was Suki who had walked in. Just Suki. Oh, only joking. He didn’t want any weird looks and, with a jacket like that, she can’t make fun of him. Xiao, however, did give her a not-so-subtle glance over. How predictably hypocritical of him.

“No, I don’t need help. I’d like some assistance.”

That’s the same thing but alright, just listen to him.

“Wandering into the laundry room. That’s weird. Not that I particularly care. Whatever. Just. Follow me.”

Xiao strode over to his previous location, where he set down his laundry basket, then placed his hand on a washing machine’s lid, giving it a good thump.

“How does this work. How do you turn it on. Do I just. Put all of my clothes in. I don’t usually wash my clothes myself, if you. Can’t tell.”

She was surprised to find Xiao in the laundry room, wearing that type of shirt too. She didn’t dislike it or anything-- it looked cute on him. Then again, Suki had a terrible sense for fashion. It wasn’t like she was going to make fun of him, who do you think she is Xiao. Huh. A bully.

Aren’t the words help and assistance basically the same things? Whatever, Xiao. Thank god Suki is nice enough to help him. “I..I just like walking around..k..kind off.” Smooth, Suki. She followed after him, and there he was taking his large ass steps and leaving her behind. Thank god he actually stopped somewhere so she didn’t struggle to follow after him again.

Mutual killing, schmutual killing. No one’s actually going to die here and if he had to be wrong, he’d die of boredom from the amount of talkative people here. There’s not even a gardener he could vent to, let alone a garden. Where can he stroll as he had angsty flashbacks or plotted murder? Nowhere. His life was ruined.

Without his line of always attending servants, that meant he had to do things himself, not that he had a problem with it. Making the bed was fine, cooking his own food, washing the dishes, cleaning up, doing the laundry… The last two were the least favourable chores and, coincidentally, they were all he had to do. Simple tasks that he messed up. Xiao just had to spill his glass of milk on himself. Why not do the rest of his laundry too?

There was one problem though. He’s never actually done the laundry before. By himself, that is. And he couldn’t just stand there forever, glaring at the clothes basket until it cleaned itself. Besides, he looked… pretty out of place.

“……..”

Hey, it was the only shirt he had that wasn’t stained with milk or smelt like ketchup. A gift from a… friend. He couldn’t help but feel offended when he received it two sizes too large. At least it was comfortable…

He wasn’t just going to admit he needed help. That’s not very cool. The singer ran a hand through his hair nervously, wondering how he should approach this. Upon hearing the door open, he immediately brisked up towards the person. Xiao left a strange pause before speaking.

Today she decided to wear that sweatshirt, because why the hell not. She usually had an outfit to go with it, the same regular eye patch, black shorts and knee high socks with brown lace up boots. It was hard to spend their days here in literally six rooms all the time, so instead of heading for another place, she decided to take a pit stop by the laundry room.

Which in all honesty-- a big mistake. The literal moment she opened the door and looked up, Xiao Jiang was right there.

There was a brief moment of silence as neither of them spoke and finally-- Xiao talked. Ah, how much of an anime boy is this guy.

He undid his ribbon slowly to fix it, combing his hand through his hair before retying the red ribbon. The jazz music was a bit comforting — Satoru had always been a fan of jazz, and right now, any noise was welcomed. Satoru hated the silence, and always had to be making some sort of conversation to fill it. He was just a social butterfly. 

It was a strange turn of events, actually. Coming to Hope’s Peak, only to find himself passed out somewhere under the ocean with a bunch of others. He just laughed. He wouldn’t think about it too hard, he decided. It would probably only make the splitting headache he had worse.

As he was standing, he sighed. Why exactly were they here? He supposed he wouldn’t know until he started asking around. Someone would know, someone would definitely know. With those reassuring words to himself, he turned around and oh-!

He almost bumped into someone, who was apologizing now. He smiled gently at the other, and laughed softly. It wasn’t a malicious laugh, no. It was a friendly and amiable laugh, definitely.

“Ahh, Oujo-sama, please don’t apologize, it is not your fault. We were bound to bump into each other…what with the magnetic force called fate drawing us together.”

She seemed uncomfortable, and that made Satoru frown. He definitely didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. After all, what the hell kind of host would he be if he did!?

“YOTSUYA.”

He said this, not meaning to put as much emphasis on the surname as possible, but he did anyway.

“Aha-ha, I mean, I’m Satoru YOTSUYA, and I couldn’t agree more — it IS very fancy to meet someone else here.”

Once again, he was smiling pleasantly. He suddenly kneeled, taking Suki’s hand. What was he doing now?

“Does Oujo-sama want to give me her name? I mean, I don’t mind calling someone as cute as her ‘Oujo-sama’, but maybe she’d prefer to hear me addressing her by her name?”

Besides, she probably couldn’t even move with how much her feet felt like it was glued to the floor. Suki glanced up at him to get a better look and quickly looked back over at the decorations on the wall. This was much worse than she thought-- they were someone much more attractive than she thought, like someone who belonged on a movie screen.

She was too busy worrying herself that she flinched when they touched her hand. Not only did he take her hand, he also bent down and keeled. A small squeak emitted from her mouth and she covered it up with her other hand. This was not good with her pounding headache, soon everything was going to overflow and she was going to completely shut down.

“Hmmpfft!” Instead of speaking, she just made another noise and covered her mouth again. She cleared her throat and looked away from where Satoru’s eyes were. “Ah..ha.aha..I’m...n..not much of an..oujo-sama..” She muttered, rubbing the back of her head. “I don’t think I’m very..c..cute either..er..” She closed her eyes before responding back to Satoru.

The girl who approaches him is… how to put it kindly… no, there is no putting it kindly. She’s a nervous wreck. Pale, wringing her hands, she’d almost ran right into him like a clueless skating waitress on an oil-covered floor. Her eyes averted, her hair a mess. Her everything a mess, really. Her nerves must’ve been shot to pieces. He has no patience for it though; this sort of shy fragile deer-like personality was cumbersome, too much navigating around difficult subjects and words for his tastes. Besides, people who couldn’t spit out what they were saying were a pain. He wrote out words, the least people could do was speak them out in a similar clear fashion.

“Pay attention to your surroundings, you bother people like this. And your constant murmuring is an annoyance. Stop it.” his eyes narrow. Each word is spat out with while not quite ‘venom’ with ferocity and a lack of mercy, each one hitting hard. Hopefully she stops the stuttering and spluttering soon. It’s hard to continue a conversation like this and he doesn’t even like conversations when they’re normal. Short. To the point. Without fuss, without small talk. Like all things in life should be, really. Well, on that front he was always left wishing for more though. People and their stupid preferences… it couldn’t be helped. It’d hopefully be easier for her to continue and maybe give him something to work with if he gave her his name so he made a point to do so. “Saga. I’m a calligrapher. That’s all you need to know.”

Benjiro folds his arms and glances around the area once more. It’s not like anything’s become clearer just because his eyesight has. No, the area still looks just as troublesome and as fragile as it ever did. Such a pointlessly extravagant structure. His eyes roll back to little miss nervy as he tries to get something out of her. Something of use, anyway.

If she tried to pay attention to her surroundings, she might make eye contact with people-- and if she did everything in her mind would overload and she would be even more of a ticking time bomb. A bomb waiting to explode in anxiety and nerves. She closed her eyes, taking in all of the ‘advice’ Benjiro had given her and looked up to not meet his eyes-- but rather his forehead instead. This was much easier, let’s just pretend he didn’t have an intense gaze on her.

“C..calligrapher.” She tried not to mutter, but this came out like a whisper. She moved her hand up to cover her mouth as she cleared her throat. “Saga-kun..” She made a mental note to remember who he was and shifted her hand back in the safe keeping's of her other arm.

“Me..?” She cleared her throat again, her voice still wasn’t coming out. Perhaps she was a little scared he would harshly scold her again, but she couldn’t exactly help it. “I’m S..suki Ishibashi, Gunslinger.” Suki went over to where she kept her gun and patted her leg-- to find the holster empty. She tried not to look alarmed as she did so, but she looked uncomfortable already so it just looked like she realized she left the oven on.  

ACE TRAINER SUKI would like to battle!

I chose some pokemon that I felt would fit Suki? Yeah!

Metagross - A very tough steel type that I can see Suki really liking because of like…the canon moves? It’s a very like…uh?? gun-ish pokemon, I feel.

Togekiss - OKAY but since Suki is usually uncomfy and Togekiss are usually really good for friendship/social situations, I can see someone giving Suki a Togekiss to help her ease into that kind of stuff..!!

Blastoise - GUNS!!! Suki’s starter pokemon, probably. 

Arcanine - Kind of like a big guard dog for Suki? She can definitely hold her own but Arcanine will totally help Suki out.

Altaria - I can see Suki enjoying an Altaria because very soft and floofy and they’re also very serene and nuturing.