GRAVEYARD

[dormheads]

graveyard

students in time out: 10

It's a little hard to wake up when the melody that drifts into your ears is so comforting that it'd be so much simpler to stay asleep. Maybe everything that you remember last - the cold seeping into your fingertips, the pain of injury, or the darkness creeping into your vision - will just be parts of a bad dream.

But it's not.

When you wake up, it's probably a little disorienting - you have to push off a blanket and rise from this nice comfortable mat on the floor. Seems like you were all curled up for nap time. Literally. The room that you're in has furniture meant for small humans, children as some might call them, and everything is soft and plush to the touch with rounded corners. Blocks with the alphabet etched onto them, coloring books and crayons, and even a rocking horse dot the room to really give it that childish charm. If you can think of a child-safe toy, it's probably in one of the baskets that line the shelves of the room!

Around the room they'll find baby monitors that broadcast the antics of the living. Hopefully that doesn't feel creepy.

There is a yard outside through the glass doors, but it currently seems to be locked - and the glass won't break no matter how hard you try. There's a large pink door that feels enormous, ten times as tall as you, on one side of the room, but there's no way through that either. At the very top, you might see a directory sign that says: TO ADMINISTRATION BUILDING.

Huh.

Well... for now, get comfortable. It looks like you might be here a while.

WEEK 3 UPDATES
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Comments

[battling]

[It's never too early to start learning about vore (no).]

Eh, it's just life up North.

[He's not even a little bit stressed out about it.]

[headmt]

[Sure, sure. Pointing at him.]

Rock.

[Gesturing to himself.]

Empty.

[battling]

Pretty sure your name was Mollymauk.

[Asshole knows names and avoids using them.]

[headmt]

[Sounds like kind of a stupid name, to be honest? He blinks.]

M.T.

[Sure, yeah.]

[battling]

...

[Oh wait.]

Initials?

[headmt]

[I hand u a a memory.

Afterwards, he's just sitting there sort of. Holding his head. Ouchie ouch.]

[battling]

[This is... A Lot. And a whole lot is missing here too. Like things are censored. Is that because Molly's freshly dead?

The corners of Bradley’s mouth lift. His smile, dangerous and yet innocent, has a childlike purity to it.

"When you say got strong, does that mean you weren’t strong from birth?" Akira asks.

Bradley reclines on the couch in his room, whiskey by his side. "I wasn’t weak, but I wasn’t strong either. There’s terrifying fellows all over the North, you see. I beat them down one by one, ate their stones, and became stronger. I take pride in the fact that my existence used to be that like that of a worm. Even though it sounds good to have never lost, that’s just flimsy. Whether you only ever lose, or only ever win, that’s the same as being enslaved. I’m a fugitive. I’ve torn down the cages of my own fate many times over. That’s why I like people who try and break free as well. Like the Southern tiny. It’s in his eyes. If he worked hard, I think he’d become a good bandit."

"I-I don’t think we’d want him to be a bandit....." The other man's voice wavers, worried but somehow inerested. He leans forward with a smile. "Thank you for today, Bradley. I’m glad to have heard so much. Can I just ask one last thing?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think I can become someone like that too? Someone who breaks free from the chains of fate."

Bradley cocks an eyebrow, laughing in amusement. Suddenly, he reaches out casually to grasp Akira's chin, giving it a light shake, before letting go.

"You don’t become, you go and be. Pre-determined fate? That’s bullshit! If you have the will to fight, no matter when, I’ll teach you how."]