daybreakacademy | When You Made Wishes: start! (player plot)

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When You Made Wishes: start! (player plot)

Imagine Wist's surprise when April rolled around and their plan for a great prank was foiled on account of all those students just...leaving??? Truly, they have become the April fool... It's what they wanted, of course -- for the pitiful humans to find freedom -- and sure there are some stragglers around, but...in the end, they decide to take the win and enjoy a short break of their own. Good thing, too, or they might have pulled out all their hair in frustration when Spring Break comes to an end and the swarm of students and faculty willingly return to their prison.

While settling back into the academy and resigning themselves to a routine, the people of Daybreak will be soothed by a gentle tune rising up from the forest. It isn't a song they've heard before, and yet, somehow...it's nostalgic, isn't it? The soft notes of the pan flute stir up something in their hearts, tugging at old memories and drawing forth a feeling of dissatisfaction and longing out from under them. Let the song lull them into taking a moment to withdraw from the hustle and bustle -- hey, turns out they sort of need it. Maybe they're coming down with a cold, or just some quick little bug...
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>> user M3G4M4G1CH4XX posted on April 6th, 2019:
Why did you come back? You don't have to live like this.

Weren't things better back then? Try to remember what it used to be like.
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The odd message from an iris account that doesn't exist isn't up for long before the spell kicks into the next phase. However they manifest and from when differs from person to person, but those affected will all have the bizarre experience of watching some ghost of themselves from their past be born from their soul's memory. Don't think there are those that can escape this fate just by returning at a later time, either -- Wist can keep up this panpipe nonsense all day, every day if they have to. If that what it takes to get their point across...

Good luck trying to comprehend whatever point that may be, because now Daybreak is the new home to a bunch of familiar-looking rugrats and has to contend with whatever complications they may bring along with them.
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[For more information on this plot, please see this ooc infopost!]

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Breathe in through the mouth, out through the nose.

[Should slowly help to heal that stitch. Normally he'd pick the bat up, but since apparently he's going to be a dangerous crime lord now, he thinks better of it.]

We'll get you some water or some shit in a sec, but you remember how I said being a little shit isn't the reason why we're here, right? But there is still a reason.

[He follows the advice, content to stay on the floor for now.]

What is it?

It sounds dumb as fuck, so I'm just gonna show you instead.

[Because "magic is real" and "we're special" are so stupid, especially coming from someone like him. At least lifting his shirt to expose his stomach was mostly just weird... Anyway, say hi to the dead stick figure in a checkerboard field, both of which are going from an inky black that don't match a years-old tattoo to a vibrant mix of blues and yellows.]

[He tenses at seeing the tattoo, but...it doesn't quite look like the Yakuza ink he's seen in movies. Then again, movies exaggerate things, right? And a teenager is more likely to get something non-traditional...

That thought process goes out the window as soon as he sees the tattoo change color. His eyes go wide and he leans forward, blinking a few times to make sure he's seeing things right.]

H-how the fuck did you do that?!

I'm fucking awesome is how.

[It might just be a dumb party trick when it comes to important things like saving the world, but even a dumb party trick is rad as hell when it comes to showing kids magic. It's almost the best kind of trick for that! He lets the colors swirl, blot, fade completely, then come back with their original strong black and drops his shirt again.]

Turns out the world is a way fucking weirder place than anyone ever tells you, growing up. Well, Mama made it clear to me, but that's because she gets visions and stuff. [And...picked him up from a massacre site caused by vampires, but that's not important right now.] Kinda hard to keep that under wraps, living together. Anyway, welcome to weirdo school for extraordinary weirdos that do cool shit.

Holy shit.

[He keeps staring, transfixed by the changing colors. Once the tattoo is covered again, he looks up at Mav's face...then back down at the ground.]

But I can't do any shit like that. The only eks...eku...weird thing about me is that I use the wrong hand.

[Psht. Mav waves that nonsense off.]

You've been hearing too many people who got rotting shit in their heads instead of brains, there isn't a "wrong" hand, no one needs to be blamed for you being born, just fucking forget all that.

[Not that it could ever be so easy... Still, maybe if he's brash and confident, the kid will believe him, and start to feel better, bit by bit. That would be worth it. He plops himself down onto the ground next to the boy, extending his legs out to wiggle his feet back and forth horizontally with feigned carelessness.]

But trust me, kiddo, you're gonna to see yourself do something real fucking weird. Give it time. It's your first day!

[What could be weirder than meeting an older version of yourself, after all?]

Isn't the one most people use called the 'right' hand in English? And everyone I see on TV or in video games that's left handed are bad guys.

[He really wants to lean over and flick the side of this kid's head... Maybe later.]

Know who else are always bad guys, or nothing but jokes? Black people. Fat people. Queer people. People like my Mama, who saved my fucking life and raised me. Hell, there's some fucking soulless ginger stereotype, too. You really wanna base your worldview on what someone else says, instead of fucking thinking for yourself? Maybe you're dumber than I thought.

I'm not letting them make me be right handed! But...they still treat me like shit.

[He pulls his left sleeve back to show a bruise the rough size and shape of an adult's hand.]

And...my mom killed herself because of me. That's why I think I shouldn't have been born.

[It's not entirely a surprise, given everything, but he still feels his stomach drop out and make room for anger. Ugh, who gives a fuck, he's gonna have a cigarette, he needs it. This Akechi's old enough to be exposed to dumb self-destructive shit like that anyway. Getting one out and lit and taking a slow drag, it takes him a while to get back to speaking.]

Listen kid, I ain't a mom and I never will be, but I've had two of 'em. Two real moms, not just women who've taken care of me, and definitely not some asshole like who done that to you. I don't remember much about the first one, but...I know she gave up her life for me.

[Ugh. It's weird to talk about this, especially when he knows that if this Akechi were the real Akechi, neither one of them would be sharing. It wasn't how things worked, with real people.

Kids, though... Kids are weird, honest anomalies that needed more hope in their lives so that maybe they wouldn't grow up to be shitty like everyone else.]

For me, not because of me, 'cuz moms don't do shit like that. It's people who make kids think that shit and don't treat 'em any good that are the real "because".

They treat me like this because I'm a bastard child. I was never wanted, so I'm the reason my father threw my mom away. And just me being born made her life go to shit, so that's why she died. That's...how bastards always get treated.

[It's a damn miracle Akechi manages to bottle all this anger and distress up inside when he gets older. Maybe he finally got a good guardian, or something. That'd be nice.]

Not gonna pretend I know shit about what that's like, I don't fucking know. It would be insulting as fuck to pretend otherwise. I do, for some reason, know Leonardo da Vinci was a bastard child, and even if people gave him shit for it, he didn't turn out so bad, did he? So fuck all that. Here, with me, at this school, that shit don't matter. It ain't right, never was, and it'd be hard finding someone who can defend that shit.

[...he hopes, anyway. he doesn't really want to beat up all his classmates.]

[About that...well, you'll have to ask the older version when he gets here. This one is currently looking at you as if he's trying to judge whether or not you're lying.]

People won't...treat me like I'm someone else's mess that got dumped on them? You're sure?

[Rude. Maverick is a little shit, but he's an honest little shit. Sometimes that's exactly what makes him a little shit.]

Someone fucking teleported you over here because they wanted you so bad, dumbass. But hey, if anyone dares, I'll hold 'em down while you kick their teeth in, how about that? ...I mean, unless you're doing stupid shit for no reason, like setting the stables on fire. That'd be fucked up. You deserve the problem label if you're doing that shit.

The animals in the stables didn't do anything, the only shit I set on fire belongs to assholes.

[He sounds...completely serious, too.]

But, if you promise I can kick the ass of anyone who acts like I'm a chore...

[yeah...yeah. why were their so many people an inch away from arson at this school...]

Amending it to undeservedly acts like you're a chore. Fuck authority, but not quite anarchy reigns. Still a fucking school here, kid.

[Excuse, he doesn't set any buildings on fire for another five years!]

I set their shit on fire because they treated me like shit. If they aren't assholes to me in the first place, I won't have to be a petty fucker to them back.

[Cue the older version of Akechi walking in...just in time to hear what his younger self is saying. Face, meet palm.]

...I take it he's already thoroughly ruined any point in bothering to censor myself right now?

[Rather than turn around, Maverick cranes his neck back and spouts another cloud of smoke before grinning. Hello!!]

Oh yeah, you're super fucked, dude. I like him! [He's so cute...and in for some brain breakage.] Well, here you go. You thought you couldn't do weird special shit, but check that out. Pauper, meet princess.

[He just. Pinches the bridge of his nose.]

Fuck...I've already been feeling exhausted today, and I get the feeling this is going to involve a lot of explanations...

[The child scoots back and lets his hand drift toward the bat at the newcomer's arrival, before freezing and staring.]

How many times am I going to have to say 'what the fuck' today?

Go for broke!

[SAY 'WHAT THE FUCK' AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT, KIDDO. HE SUPPORTS YOU!!

But also he's sliding himself over so he can kick the bat further out of reach.]

Trust me. [Not worth it. Oh, gosh, does he understand the instinct, but. no.] Anyway, I'm still thinking space-time shenanigans, unless you think this is why you feel so shitty.

It might be related. I've felt like shit ever since that music started, and a weird message went up on the network not long before you texted me.

[His bludgeon, noooo! He stands up, still wobbling a bit from exhaustion.]

This isn't some kind of weird-ass prank, is it? He's really...?

[Weird message? Hm... Maverick digs his phone out again. Oh yeah, look at that. Ominous, sort of...? More like somebody tried to be ominous but forgot what they set their username to. Whatever, he'd look into that more later, when he wasn't helping to keep a boy from killing his future self and vice versa...partly because that's when he will actually feel pretty awful himself. Not a lot the magic has to copy over, those first four or so years.]

I know, right? You dress super fucking lame when you get older.

I'm not trying to dress eye-catchingly. I'm trying to avoid being noticed by the fucking stalkers that call themselves my fans. And I haven't exactly had much time to change my wardrobe since I left Japan, either.

[At least he's not bothering with his gloves today? Though that might have to do with the fact that his nails are a good couple inches longer than normal.]

Fans? Why the hell would I end up with fans?

Fucking foodie pics really fucking helping you stay off the grid. You know, if you wanna borrow my shit, you just have to ask, I know you're taller but a lot of my shirts are a size up anyway. You could finally rep the bands y --

[WAIT WAIT WAIT, also sorry, bittykechi, but the fans are weird and he'd much rather talk about this thing]

Hey! [Finally Maverick pushes himself to his feet, balancing his cigarette between his lips as he leans in to inspect Akechi's nails. They're long! They're colorful! They're sparkly!!]

When You Made Wishes: start! (player plot)

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CW: Signs of child abuse, suicide mention

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