Writing Club (IC)

Seira
Occult Room

Seira resisted the urge to sigh. That's exactly what a struggling club needed. Unmotivated club members who were the rejects of other clubs. She was beginning to notice a few common threads with the foreign legion at this point. What did that make her?

Wait. Slipped in? Did he just walk into the club and sit down!? Surely he applied for it and got accepted. Right? He's not just a dude who's just in the writing club now. That would require massive oversight or sheer negligence!

She thought of Jing.

Ah...

'A general must put the past away and plan the future.'

Which was another way of telling herself to save having a brain aneurysm over this.

"Oh." Hantu rubbed her hands together at Reece's admittance.. "Could have asked about here. We would have accepted you if you wanted something new cause this..." Hantu coughed, before putting on a cheesy horror voice from a 80's slasher. "IS HORRFYINGLY NEW~~~"

Turning around in clear embarrassment, Hantu coughed again. "Stupid Brad and his marketing ideas. I'm putting a hex on him later."

An thought occuring to Seira, she spoke out. "If I may ask, where are the rest of your members. This room..." She stared into the oppressive void. "Seems...quiet."

Hantu shrugged gently, "All new members must adventure into the Neithare and capture a spirit to harness the dark energy."
Seira nodded once. "The Neithare."
"You want to know mor-"
"I think we'll be fine."

A moment of silence rested rather easily.

"Oh I get to ask a question now."
Hantu pipoed up

"..C-Correct."

With a wide smile, Hantu turned to Reece. "Do you want to hex the baseball head? Nothing harsh of course, but I find It's quite theraputic for the hexer. Dark Karmic judgement and all that."

@Luma
 
Art Club
Much to Ayase's dissapointment, Ement remained rather casual about the whole thing. Though every other artist was staring so intensly at their current work that it looked like they might set it on fire. Looking to Pierre, she chuckled. "Children do create quite the mess don't they." Nibbling on her cigarette, she pointed to the door.

"Now get out."

Whatever delaying or comment they wanted to slot in was cut short. As they found themselves on the wrong side of the Art Club's doors.

Holding a large painting and one of them covered in green pain. They glanced to eachother. Should they just go back then was the question they shared.

Well, Damian was also wondering if this place had spare clothes.



Having made herself to her office. Which was almost entirely covered in pictures of naked woman looking at peaches for some reason. Ement began taking her red-stained clothes off. This took quite a while with the amount of scarves and braclets she had on her. "Oh, how easy it is to bait that fool. Is that what's left of the writing club now? It's warm zee heart Pieree! It warms zee heart! It will be no trouble to put them down for good. Ah, But to think she and Eyase, heh, hehe, hohoohoo~~" It was known only to the cosmos that Ement spent a suprising amount of her time laughing completely naked.

It was, despite her claims. Not a 'french' thing.

@RedArmyShogun @Karyra[/hr]
 
Damian James
Art Club Clubroom

The chaos was amazing. Wow, these guys sure were deprived of colors that weren't in a can. Damian even had to admire the fact that he'd managed to get the prissy 'French' girl's shoes.

Almost made faceplanting into the green puddle worth it.

A few subtle -not that subtle- shakes later, the painting was presented and Damian was no longer dripping green. He smiled as he was complimented on his new coloring. The jabs were hurtful, but these people were jerks anyway. And some color would do them so good, anyway. Maybe they'd pass out from more paint fumes. Thankfully, Ayase was definitely helping in that cause. Red globs went everywhere.

"Watch out, Ayase. You'll be caught... red handed."

He suppressed a snicker.

As they were... politely escorted out, Damian was glad that Ayase had the painting well in hand.

"Ah, we should head back now. The paint will stain, but I don't mind. I just don't wanna drip everywhere quite yet. And I'm sure that painting will be news. Uh... can we leave out that I provoked the Art Club though? I don't want look like a troublemaker..."

He was failing spectacularly at this, as he was no doubt now going to get some odd nickname. Like 'Green' or something. He just wanted to sit down and write, all this other stuff was so... Still, those art club guys were snots.

"Although, I figure that if I got covered in paint, I should have knocked over some more paint cans. If they're so secure in their funds, surely a few knocked over paint cans could be easy to replace? But... we really shouldn't make them more mad. They might make our room like theirs. That'd be completely awful."


@RedArmyShogun @Rithas
 
Ayase Matsuhima
Watching the interplay, it all wasn't for nothing, she had learned a bit by the art club, and while she had a funny feeling about the whole situation it should be possible to utterly decimate the art club..which was not something she wanted to do strangely enough. Though she did feel sorry for them, it was littlie more than a sweat shop ran by a French midget who was likely insane..well midget might be stretching it.

Looking at Damian, Ayase gives a bit of a shrug with her customary smile. "Well, I couldn't let them just walk all over you like that could I? Plus I was investigating in my own way.. Unless we have to get rid of them we should avoid that club. Nothing in there was normal.. rich coming from me I'pose. Still.. Ah well let's get back, I'm curious what's under this tarp, but I doubt we're gonna like it. Either way I think we utterly failed at making friends at this club."

With her smile dipping a little, he still didn't understand, in the eyes of the school, being a trouble maker was better than being in last. "Nah, let's just get out of here, wasting more of their paint and that stuff an' we'll likely have someone breathing down out necks. Important to file that away though, curious what they are sell'n and to who.."

With no further objective to handle and a sense of curiosity in regards to the painting, Ayase was half tempted to open it then and there, but if it were requested.. Knocking on the club door a few minutes later, Ayase calls out. "Sleepy head, you awake or your assistant here? got a painting for yah, likely make enemies, but if you didn't commission it, I'm leaving it in the hall."

It was a fair enough middle ground, surely he would remember having order a painting or not. Part of her was also curious if the rest of the membership had met with such epic failure as well, provided they weren't back here first at any rate.

@Karyra @Rithas
 
Reece Howell
[Occult Club Room]

"Me in the occult club...? Eeehhhhhhhh... not really my thing." Reece tried his best to make it seem like he’d given it at least some thought.

As mention of spirit realms occurred on the side, Reece glanced towards what he assumed was a window behind the many layers of curtains and fabric. It was surprisingly easy to picture a bunch of crazy Hantus running around pretending something like a parking garage was a spirit realm. The silly thought made him smirk.

"Huh, what? A hex? How do you even do something like tha— uhh... I mean no thanks," he caught himself. "Wouldn’t mind a luck charm or something like that though. Not that I need it, but hey: it can’t hurt, right?"

...or could it? There was no telling with this club.

@Rithas
 
Jing
WRITING ROOM

As Ayase called out from the hallway. She could hear some murmurings and scuffling inside the room. The phrase 'Why aren't there any mansized windows here' was definitely used. Before she could think anything more of it. The door swung open.

A young man stood there, adorned in clothing that immediately brought to mind a son forced to wear his father's suit. A few pencils filled the breast pocket of his white work shirt. As he was looking down, the orange flatcap he was wearing blocked most of his face from being view at the moment. Not that it mattered, Ayase knew who he was anyway.

Dull brown eyes peeked from underneath the cap as Esaya, The Head of the Journalism club raised his head slightly. Peering exclusively at the gap between the duo. "Excuse me..." He took a step to make his breakaway. But halted as he noticed the now drying stain covering the front of Damian. His brows furrowing slightly, Esaya seemed to instinctively reach for something in his back pocket. But stopped himself, simply asking "Art club?". Ayase saw him shoot an all too familar concerned look at her. Sighing gently, The Journalist walked away from the duo without saying another word.

"Oh you're back."
Whatever there was to be said. Their attention was brought back to the Writing's very own club head. Leaning back on a chair with impressive lethargicness. "And a painting nontheless. You've must have made great friends with the Art Club." He looked off into the distance. "And here I thought they were just going to insult you. Maybe Ement just hates me." Jing tapped his chin, before shrugging. "Oh well."

It finally dawned on the Club Head that Damian's clothes were in a rather green state. He waved an arm in the general direction of the storage. Which for the writing club room was simply where desks were not being used. "There's, uh, a spare shirt in that dusty cupboard. Looks your size. Think it says something about 'Realistic Fiction is for real writers' or something. I dunno...that's box been there for a few years." And none of Jing's details were wrong, much to Damian's dismay.

@RedArmyShogun @Karyra
 
Jemima Foster
Rap Club Room
Suddenly, the lights went out.

"What?" Jemima asked. There was one light, shining on the other side other side of the room. Jemima blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to darkness. With such little source of light, she could only make out the mass of moving bodies pushing each other in the darkness. At least she knew the arm slung over her shoulder and the person holding the other side were Mirai and Beatrix respectively.

She heard Maskie call out to them, his campy voice fading the further away he got.

"Okay, might as well follow Mr. A** M****," she said, leading the others after Maskie.

Interactions: Beatrix @Wolfsbane706, Mirai @twinkletide
Mentions: Maskie @Rithas
 
Ayase Matsuhima
Upon reaching the room, Ayase could hear a voice she knew a bit too well. Before she could say anything however the source of it immediately comes out of the door, while her smile could be said to be unnatural at the best of times, if not most of the time, in this case it seemed even more so. Like watching an angry mother with a psychotic streak Ayase's smile becomes even more fixed. Pressed highly with a narrowed stare of her eyes, she seemed rather calm.

"Oh, hello there Esaya! Doing well I see!"

She says in passing, keeping her eyes pinned to him the whole time, one could hear teeth clenching when she took note of his own stare, at least till he vanished down the hall, likely into some other class.

"Oh dear, I really should stop doing that."

"Oh no, I'm pretty sure they hate us. I'm equally sure it would be easy to turn that club and it's members into the beginning of one of those vidya's, ah Odyssey? Yah know with the Monkeys going all ape shit crazy praying to the Monolith."

Taking note of the rest of what Jing had said, one manner of his wording had alerted her. "...a Painting nonetheless? Wait a minute there, she said you had requested this as a commission." Setting the painting down, she had was suspicious of this from the start. "Eh, Damia-er never mind." She says as the President sends him to get a change of clothes. "Well then, do we open it to see what insults it has, or if it's an IED, or do I just throw it away in the trash?"

@Karyra @Rithas
 
Seira
OCCULT ROOM

"It can't hurt? Then I suppose you don't want a blood totem. That's fine, their out of fashion lately." Hantu waved a hand in the air with the confidence that obviously they should have all known that. "But If you wish for a nasib ward. Then, I can produce that. Since we're friends." Hantu pulled her hood over her eyes in what felt almost like slowmotion. "It will be better then that knife."

With that she stepped back into the darkness, till she disappeared in to the curtains.

Seira and Reece avoided looking at each other as they heard various clangs and clunks. A few screeches of metal, the sound of water flowing and a....horse neighing? Shortly followed by a bang that caused the curtains to waft and a perfume of...Reece could only describe it to himself as the feeling of dealing with a power outage and your suddeny disconnection to the world by making up a game with that random tennisball you have in your room. And then you start having loads of fun with the game. That by the time the power comes back you kinda dont want to end the game. But then you wonder if it was so much fun only because there was literally nothing else to do.

Into a smell.

"Pineapple?"
Seira mumbled under her breath.

"Here!" The Occultist reappeared. Again with the hand grabbing. Bringing up Reece's palm to her eyes, she squinted slightly. "Perhaps my earlier seeing was shrouded. There is potential for terrible...."

"I think we've spent enough time out." Seira commented, looking at a ol' fashioned pocket watch she had produced from somewhere within that jumper. "Jing will forget to start the second workshop if we don't get back. Thank you for your hostipality.....Ms.Perempuan. But we must go." Seira made her way to the door. Tilting her head to signal Reece to do so as well.

"Waitwait, take the ward." Placing it on Reece's hand. The 'Ward' was a flat medal medallion shaped as a baseball bat. It was small enough to snugly fit within Reece's palm. On it, the letters C.I.N.T.A were inscribed in glowing red. What a snazzy effect.

"Be careful of the demons in your dreams now." Hantu called as she waved them goodbye.

The spirits waved too.

@Luma
 
Damian James
Art Club Clubroom

With that strange run-in with the Journalism Club head, Damian had to wonder what Ayase did to get kicked out. At least, Damian supposed she wouldn't be in the Writing Club if there wasn't a reason for that. However, he didn't write anything down, and he seemed like he was in a rush. No doubt because he had probably attempted to fling himself out a window or something.

Jing lazily pointed towards the storage, and even though Damian personally hated the shirt's message, it was still a little better than wearing the previous shirt, which by now was certainly stained. The new shirt was some kind of ugly yellow, and as he shook it out to free it from dust, Damian seriously considered just wearing the stained shirt.

After a moral debate within himself, Damian swapped to the dusty and yellow shirt.

"I say we look at it. If it looks even reasonably good, I'm sure it could probably make the room look less..." Damian waved his hand around the room. There really wasn't words for how shabby it looked. "It's not gonna make this room better, but better than just bare walls. We could even use it to cover cracks or holes in the wall. Just pick one of the bigger ones."

"I'm pretty sure it's not an ied..."


Then again, after their treatment from the Art club... it probably could be. Damian took a step back just to be sure. He justified that it was just to see the painting better, and held up a small thumbs up with a weak smile.

@RedArmyShogun @Rithas
 
Reece Howell
[Occult Club Room]

"Heh yeah, good friends," Reece repeated in an awkward tone that, while hinting at something, was a mystery even to him.

He took a deep whiff of the strange odur. There was actually something compelling about it that made him yearn for more. A whiff of mystery. On the flipside, it was also a bit concerning, considering ‘mystery’ would sum up his expectation of how drugs would smell. Now that his mind had gone there, it seemed to make enough sense that his mind couldn’t wander elsewhere.

Seira’s conversation was met with a snicker. It wasn’t clear why at first, until he murmured under his breath. ‘Hantu Penguin...’ His own humor was clearly 100x funnier in his own head, but he faithfully stuck with the stupid joke.

Holding the charm up, he took a closer look. What were the odds she’d have something so crazy specific, unless...? Uhh... Actually, he had no idea. Must be a crazy coincidence.

"Sure, I’ll watch out for ‘em. Cya, Pe— uhh— Hantu."

@Rithas
 
Mirai
RAP CLUB ROOM, AND SUBSEQUENTLY THE HALLWAY

Projected headline for tomorrow's issue of the school newspaper, courtesy of Mirai:

"RAP BATTLE GONE ESPIONAGE-ESQUE! LIGHTS GONE OUT IN THE AUDITORIUM! WRITING CLUB TURNED FIGHTING CLUB?! (PICTURES INCLUDED! EXCLUSIVE!!!)"
...or something like that. She, nor anyone else in the room, expected the lights to go out when they did; and frankly she thought the gesture (assuming it was the hand of some conspirator and not divine providence) was sort of pointless. In fact, it just made her fake injury more suspicious.

However questionable the decision may have been, however, it didn't hinder their escape any. With the help of the mysterious masked man they stepped out of the clubroom unimpeded, their ears ringing and their eyes assaulted by an awful amount of lightbulbs in the hallway. As soon as they had passed the threshold Mirai took her arms off of her companions' shoulders and stood up straight, stretching with a huge groan. "That was...fun," she said as she bounced in place on the heels of her sneakers. She stopped suddenly. "Wait, weren't we supposed to do something in ther—ah, screw it," she said. "A rap battle counts as a greeting, right?"1

"Anyways, we should probably be heading back. Thanks, Mr. Mask, for—wait. No." She pointed at him. "That? That, that's suspicious. You turned out those lights? Who are you? Some kinda superhero or something?" Her eyes glowed with excitement. Perhaps there was much more to this school than shitty management and an unconventional curriculum. Some real weird, interesting crap. She turned to her friends. "Whatcha guys think? Superhero? Chuuni? Place any amount of money on the latter—I will, that is."2

1It doesn't.
2In fact, this had the potential to be neither a joke or a bluff. Her parents had paid for her school and board, and planned to send a very small stipend in USD every month, to substitute for an allowance; she'd found the first installment in her pockets almost as soon as the plane landed. She also had about $25 of her own money. Okay, so maybe not any amount, but a pretty fair amount.

@Rithas @Wolfsbane706 @Yuuki_Tatsunohi