#aod2 open

It wasn't like she hadn't been expecting this at some point or another. The Hope's Peak mutual killing had resulted in the exorcism of too many ridiculously dark secrets to count, and the Archive mutual killing's counterpart motive had just resulted in...embarrassment for the most part. But still, secrets had to be revealed by external sources to cause conflict, because it was boring when people pulled them out by themselves, right? It was the first rule of storytelling, and sure to cause so many interpersonal snafus later. She was so ready to dig deep into everyone's backstories, you had no idea.

In all honesty Nagisa's had caught her off-guard--but then again, you could never totally trust the talent-hiders, could you? So she'd made a mental note to track him down at some point, but could only assume that so many people were getting on his case right now, and that not much would be revealed beyond Aku-chan's intervention (just vague enough to make it apparent that lies were being told) anyway. What she really needed to do right now was get to the people that hadn't had anything revealed yet--because who knew what kind of awful secrets people had, and who knew what kind of people had absolutely nothing to hide? The only thing that could help make that distinction was the fear game. Maybe that said something about her more than anybody else.

Still, radiantly unconcerned like she was the most open person in the world, she decided to hunker down in the kitchen, the most public place she could think of, in the interim between secrets, just waiting for someone else to come in...and occasionally talking to herself.

[---]

The islands were always quiet after a trial, as he was beginning to notice. Most people were too horrified by the events that had just transpired and didn't really want to be socialising. So when walking around outside in the aftermath, the only disturbances were the waves.

Jin was not one of those stunned into seclusion by the trial. He was out and about, until he realised the bridges were open. A quick check of his map, and, oh yes. The owners of this place were surely on his side. He had to check out the concert hall, there was no way he couldn't.

He returned to his room only momentarily to grab his shamisen, and then headed over to island number three. And the concert hall was a beauty to behold. Why, it reminded him of the theatres back home, the ones he had gotten his start in.

He bustled about the stage, finding a microphone here, and a cushion there. He was in the process of making sure his instrument was in tune when some other curious inmate entered the scene.

"Here for a concert?" he asked with a grin, even as he idly strummed the three strings and made sure they all sounded right. Without waiting for, or really expecting an answer, he twirled the pick in his fingers and then started the first notes.

[♫♫♫]

He closed his eyes as he played, a picture of serene concentration, and looked to be very much at peace. As he played he did not seem to be the self-absorbed jerk he usually was, but rather an artist truly in tune with his work.

There was actually something really comforting about knowing the natural progression of things. Nervous exploration, socialization, group games (with a sensation like missing a step on the stairs Ameya recalled that Chinatsu had been on her team, and now they were just down to two, it was almost funny), motive, murder, trial, execution, new place, over and over again, with no chance of breaking order, that just wasn't how things were done. Maybe if someone ended up killing before the motive got put out she'd end up with a heart attack, but as of now, she just rolled over the timeline over and over in her head as she stepped off the bridge and into the newest area.

Plenty of things she bypassed with just a cursory glance--she actually stuck her tongue out at the baseball diamond as she passed it, and clutched her borrowed (repossessed, stolen, unlikely ever to be returned) jacket closer when she skittered past the ice rink. The town hall wasn't interesting enough to immediately catch her attention, and the overgrown building probably required a more lithe explorer. She almost stopped off at the mysterious cave, but decided she'd go back once she was able to drag somebody else along...you know, for safety reasons. Even though that only seemed to exacerbate safety problems, because who ever got physically hurt and laid down for the count when they were traveling by themselves? That just wasn't interesting. 

By the time she got to the store, her still-bare feet were sore and she was tired of walking, so she shrugged theatrically and made her way inside without another word. 

This might be the quietest she's ever been in public. By the time a crowd has gathered she's kneeling down next to the body with the dog beside her (she still can't for the life of her remember its name), wearing an oddly blank look. Sure, she knew someone else would die, but being part of the body discovery train is something she could live without. 

[♫♫♫]

Everyone was thoroughly drenched. It was just the natural state of being on this island these days. And after three days of rain, Aku-chan's threats of flood were showing. Everyone was sloshing through ankle-deep water to get to their destinations - at least the water hadn't gotten inside yet.

Jin Suzumiyatake had a few solutions. The first was the tall geta he owned. Yep, six-inch bottoms on those things, and though they forced him to move a little slower, his feet just cleared the water mark. He'd be safe for another day or two.

The second was the lacquered parasol he owned. No, it wasn't ideal for rain, but it was better than nothing, and at least it kept the water off of his upper body.

Rain, though. Jin liked the rain. He didn't particularly enjoy being out in the rain, but he liked the concept of it. Dark days spent cozy by a fire while the rain battered the windows. Stormy nights, cold outside, but heated in bed with-

Whoa now. But anyway, rainstorms were great - until he had to be out in them. Once he was forced to get rained on he was less happy. 

He waded his way to the cafeteria, in no rush at all, and spun his parasol to shake the water off, not even bother to look if there was anyone who would receive that water unexpectedly. He folded that up, took off the sandals and left them by the door, and entered the cafeteria proper.

There was no way to get around this: Ameya was sailing across the island on an upturned table.

If water damage didn't count as defacement to Aku-chan, it certainly wouldn't be pertinent to her! Already the sea level had risen enough so that she couldn't see her feet if she tries to walk anywhere, and splashing around like some kind of crazy person wasn't her deal--that was only for when the land and the sea where very separate things. Maybe by the time the floodwaters receded--because they would, eventually, someone would die rather than the entire student body reenacting Castaway--there wouldn't be a lot of underfoot island left, but she didn't worry about that too much either. Right now she was traveling in style.

The rain was still coming down in buckets, but if she stretched a really big towel over the top of the table and tied it by the corners to the upturned legs, that kept the worst of it off. It almost felt like a luxury cruise liner, in comparison to everything else that was happening. Even better, if she stretched out on her stomach and didn't wiggle too much, the surface of it didn't dip below the water, keeping her almost entirely dry--it was one of those big circular tables, a lot easier to balance. Who needed umbrellas when you had innovation. Her paddle was a really cool driftwood stick she'd picked up at the shore before the shitty storm stuff had started, and as long as she maneuvered somewhere she could still see buildings rather than drifting off into open ocean, she was pretty much set.

The reflection in the mirror can't be him. She stares, sad brown eyes tracing the cuts and scratches that now line her face. It'd been all he and Katsumi could do to get them to stop bleeding last night. After staying with the beauty queen for a while, not saying much of anything but grateful for the company and gentle physical contact, she'd returned to her room and curled up underneath the covers, not even trying to change out of the clothes he'd found out he was stuck with for the next week. Th-that was okay... It was just clothing, even if her own were torn and bloodstained. He would be okay...

And now, she stands in front of the mirror in his and Rinta's room, scrutinizing herself. With his glasses on, at first, but then without. She squints unhappily, staring down the injured model in the mirror.

This... can't be him. That's not her.

"You're... not Mori..."

he says aloud to his reflection, before pausing. But... that's what she's seeing in the mirror, right? So it must be him. His frown deepens, pulling at the cuts on her face, and she whimpers. 

He's still feeling frazzled from yesterday, and though parts of it are hazy, she remembers everything, even if he wishes she didn't. He closes her eyes.

"Mori wants to go home..."

he whispers, before a sudden, loud knocking jars her eyes open, and he stands frozen, gaze almost boring through the door.

"Wh-who's... there...?"

she asks tentatively as he slides the cracked glasses back onto her face. He waits for an answer before anything else; she's still incredibly wary, and even now he finds herself hunkering down as if in defense.

Though his smile was still stupidly plastered on his face, he was hoping that he didn't run into anyone as he beelined for his room. Thankfully, he didn't, and thankfully he didn't run into Rumi at their ruumie either. The moment he stepped into the room, he slowly laid down on the floor, arms out, staring at the ceiling. That was not a good experience. No one had a good experience. He reached up and felt for his shades, making sure they were still there. His Anime Protagonist shades, the pair he only wore when he was nervous. He didn't notice at this point, but he was still sort of shaking. His smile faded, and he stayed quiet for a couple minutes, a wonderful time for reflection. 

He took a deep breath in and out, and he hopped back to his feet, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. The rain didn't really bug him, he was used to running through it. Maybe it'd calm him down a little. The moment he opened the door of his room to step out, his smile returned, and he hummed to himself as he stepped outside.

He managed to shake off his shaking feeling as much as he could, and he decided that maybe popping up to say hello to someone would make him feel better. At least, it'd make him distracted enough not to think about things too much.