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Yui Kazuma


Location: 1B Homeroom, Eirei Academy, Shibuya, Tokyo Prefecture

Yui was bored.

That was usually the case as of late, much as he disliked it. A boring day was his most hated enemy, though not one that could generally be physically fought, unfortunately enough. The worst part was that he had no one else to blame but himself. Choosing to drop out of the Sports Festival because of a miscalculation he made was something that was remarkably out of character for him, and yet here he was. Well, at least the event hadn’t been too boring, despite his lack of involvement.

The battle section was a bit of a disappointment, though.

Fortunately, he wasn’t one to sulk over spilt milk. The festival was entertaining overall, even as just a spectator. Sigh.

Yui cracked his neck as he mulled over his current situation. ‘That’ move was still a bit too much for his body to handle at the moment, and he wasn’t foolish enough to rush such a delicate process. Patience was a virtue, after all—and that would’ve also been a terrible way to die. It was a regrettable situation truly, but an ultimately unavoidable one. Next time, he’d have to make sure not to do a test run on the same day he had an important event to attend.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if that was why he had been assigned to 1-B, but that couldn’t have been the case, considering the winner of the Sports Festival was there too. It must have been based on some other unknown metric, or perhaps, nothing at all. That would be a fun time.

Throw a bunch of misfits together, and what do you get? Entertaining chaos. Especially when superpowers were thrown into the mix.

Or, it might turn out to be a dull affair.

He shuddered theatrically at the thought.

Regardless, as long as they didn’t cross the line too far on either side, he could deal. Less so with the latter, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Glancing at his watch, Yui decided he’d wasted enough time before going to his classroom. There was only so late he was willing to be. Putting it off any further would be no–

Suddenly, and rather startlingly, Yui’s thoughts were interrupted by a succession of bangs, loud enough that he could hear them—barely—even through his headphones. His ears would have probably been ringing if he hadn’t already been blasting Korn in them for the past half hour. That was almost definitely going to make him go deaf one of these days, but not today.

It was still enough reason to remove his headphones and let them rest on his shoulders as he paused outside the classroom door. Those were rather familiar sounds, and not just because he was used to hearing gunshots almost daily—he hadn’t been back in that neighbourhood for months at this point. No, it was a more recent familiarity, and somewhat odd taking into account the current environs. Did someone get whacked at Eirei?

Well, it's not like standing around was going to answer anything.

Yui stepped into the classroom, his mismatched eyes surveying the frazzled looks of his classmates and the hole in the ceiling for a moment before alighting on the second year at the front of the class.

“.... I missed all the fun, didn’t I?”
Sylva

??? — Ruined Inn(?) Cellar



Sylva merely inclined his head to acknowledge the hammer-wielding woman and the little blonde elf’s descent into the cellar.

As his eyes wandered around the rest of the cellar, he caught sight of something a bit odd; a lantern and a leather-bound book that seemed to be a journal of sorts. They weren’t things most people would usually consider storing in a cellar that held only food and alcohol. A more in-depth inspection revealed a few more details. The book looked worn but it wasn’t a recent thing, and the lantern had long since burnt out. It seemed someone had been trying to keep a record of events—someone who had been down in the cellar for some time.

.... That crumbled zombie upstairs was the most likely suspect. Well, it was.

Morbid thoughts aside, the journal might contain useful information, so it was a start. It wasn’t like anyone else was going to be reading it now. Carefully, Sylva made his way over to the area where the book and lantern were kept, picking up the journal and ignoring the lighting implement. There wasn’t much light in the cellar, and the lantern had already exhausted its use, but strangely enough, it didn’t seem to hinder him very much, if at all. Yet another thing to figure out later. With that in mind, he began flipping through the pages of the journal.

The first few entries were nothing special, mostly mundane accounts of the life of an innkeeper’s son, but it was when he reached the 13th entry that things became odd.

Something's not quite right. Call it instinct, but there've been less travelling merchants hawking their wares here these days. The streets feel emptier than usual, but...

.... That was ominous. The innkeeper’s son had thought the same, which made Sylva wonder how things had gotten this bad. It didn’t seem to have happened all at once, everything pointed to it being a gradual change. Filing that question away for later, he continued reading.

The next relevant entry wasn’t much better than the previous ones.

All the adventurers have left; our only guests now are the knights. One of them told us to pack our bags and go, but Dad wouldn't have it. Started going on about how his dad and granddad had run the place, and that giving it up wouldn't ever happen.

So, the innkeeper had been too stubborn to evacuate when things started getting worse, and his son stayed with him. Sylva could sympathise with that. His parents were stubborn at the best of times, too set in their ways to see any perspective other than their own.

He didn’t regret many things, but.... some things could have been better.

All hell has broken loose. Whatever's outside is killing anyone and everyone that it so much as catches a whiff of. I saw it through the window last night, but just barely. Dad was being dragged away by it as he tried to open the door. I can't take this much longer.

That entry was just depressing. Sylva’s lips dipped downwards as he read. The young man had all but watched his father die at the hands of something he couldn’t even describe, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. A picture of events had started forming in his head, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Not one bit.

That knight who told us to leave—she came back. I let her inside, but I saw how much blood was dripping down her body. She thanked me for giving her a peaceful place to die, but...

Reading that gave Sylva pause and his eyes shone with vague understanding. If—and it was still an if for now—these undead were anything like the ones he knew of, then, in his attempt to help, the innkeeper’s son may have very well doomed himself. Then again, considering the knight had seemingly died while she was still human, that might not have been the case. He simply didn’t know enough to come to any conclusions yet.

The next page he flipped to was blank, save for what seemed to be a few faint scribbles on the paper.

Sylva closed the journal with a heavy sigh. Well, that was about as bad as he expected. From the first floor, he heard Sora pose a question and his eyes drifted to the steps leading out of the cellar. How he would have hoped for it to have been a simple yes.

“Yes, and no.” Sylva replied, his eyes darting back to the leather book he held.

Something had definitely caused the town to become deserted, he just didn’t know what it could have been. The writer of the journal had seen it, but he hadn’t been able to provide any descriptions. There was a more pressing issue, though. Whether or not the being responsible for the undead had done this intentionally, one thing seemed clear to him.

It was probably still here.

@VitaVitaAR@RolePlayerRoxas@SilverPaw@PKMNB0Y
Sylva

??? — Ruined Inn(?)



Sylva stared at the flame for a moment, contemplating. The little elf wasn't wrong. Fighting undead with fire was only effective if it could drop them before they did any damage, and given the fact that the ones outside were wearing armour, he didn't fancy the odds of that happening. Now, if only he knew how to turn it off. He tried shaking it, but it only moved with his hand, barely even losing any size.

He paused to think about it for a moment. There was nothing in his status window that gave him any idea of how to stop using his skill, but it couldn’t be that difficult could it? He was level one, after all.

Well, it wasn’t like he could just walk around with a fire floating in his palm, then he’d just be a walking fire hazard. He had to try something. Sylva sighed, closing his hand and watching as the flame vanished. It was lucky that worked, otherwise he would’ve ended up just burning himself instead of accomplishing anything useful. Note to self; he had to test these runes somewhere that wouldn’t burn down super easily. Just another addition to his growing list of things to do.

Before Sylva could think more about it, the little elf did the same as him, calling out her status before going to tell the other two. With a light shrug, he followed her as she made her way to where the hammer-wilding girl had gone. When she suddenly started sprinting, Sylva only had to increase his speed a little to match her on the way to the kitchen and–

He heard it before he saw it.

A shambling, emaciated corpse with a knife in one hand, and nought but empty sockets where its eyes should have been.

For a moment, Sylva was still. Apprehension crept down his spine as he stared at the undead. It hit him in that moment. This was a real zombie, the living dead in the flesh, at least what little was left of it. It was disgusting, revolting....

.... fascinating.

Opening the cellar seemed like a less-than-great idea, even if there wasn't a zombie causing a ruckus down there. And judging by the scratching noises he'd been hearing for a while now, that wasn't the case. They had no way of knowing if there was anything worthwhile in there either so it was a risk that probably warranted more caution than was taken. Not that it really mattered now. What’s done was done.

And, there goes Sora, stabbing the zombie in the back of the neck.

That begged the question; was stabbing a corpse enough to–

No. No, it wasn’t.

But the blonde with the hammer crushing its head to dust seemed to do the trick though, causing it to crumble like a puppet with its strings cut.... after being hit by a war hammer. All’s well that ends well.

Not that the little elf didn’t seem to think so with the way she went off about Sora’s recklessness.

Technically speaking, all undead were magic in a way and even if they weren’t, they were still dead, so why would stabbing have any effect on it? But it wasn’t as if she had any better idea about the nature of this world than the rest of them. Still, she didn’t seem too bad, just a bit “passionate” in her style of talking.

More importantly, the cellar was now free to explore, and that was exactly what he did, leaving the others behind for Sora to do whatever he was doing with the corpse.

Inside the cellar was, well, exactly what he expected the inside of a cellar to look like. It wasn’t incredibly large or anything but it was packed nearly to the brim with shelves filled with food and barrels of alcohol. Whoever owned the place seemed to have been well prepared for emergencies.

Sylva tried not to think about who the zombie down there might have been.

“I guess it was a good idea to clear the place out,” he muttered to himself, then raised his voice to be heard by the others, “Hey, come take a look down here.”

Even as he said that he took stock of everything in the cellar. The foodstuffs were dried, which meant they had been preserved, but with no way of knowing exactly how long they had been down there, Sylva hesitated to try his luck—not that he had many other options. The alcohol, on the other hand, was likely fine as long as they hadn’t been opened before. It wasn’t a certain thing, but it was better than nothing.

After all, they weren’t going anywhere for a while.

@SilverPaw @RolePlayerRoxas @VitaVitaAR @PKMNB0Y
Sylva

??? — Ruined Inn(?)



Sora was speaking to the little elf as if she were a child—which to be fair, she might well have been. It would be the only thing that made any semblance of sense in this place. He wasn't a–

"Firstly---Do I seriously look like a child to you?!"

Yes. Sylva wanted to say. Wisely, though, he kept his mouth shut on the matter. It wouldn't be the best idea to aggravate the mid–uh, vertically challenged girl any further. Judging by her strong reaction, this was all very new to her, in more ways than one. He probably would have reacted in a similar fashion if he'd ended up looking like a completely different person after waking up from dying. Now that the thought crossed his mind, he realised he had never actually gotten to take a look at his face yet. Everything felt normal as far as he could tell, except for the obvious abnormalities, but he couldn't be sure of anything yet. He needed to find a mirror or something.

Anyway.... if it wasn't clear before, it was now. Everyone here had been on the plane when it went down. That was one question answered for now, at least. Now, all he had to do was find the answers for the other hundred or so he had in mind. Most people would find such a task daunting, if not impossible, but Sylva only saw it as a challenge. And he never backed down from a challenge, no matter how difficult it seemed. Every puzzle had a solution. All it needed was a little observation and a lot of patience.

While Sylva was lost in his thoughts once again, Sora had walked off to the room he originally came from for some reason. Soon after that, Sylva heard a loud crash that seemed to come from outside. Did he just throw something out of a window? Why would he do that, though?

His unasked questions were quickly answered when he heard the shambling creatures outside moving towards the sound of glass breaking. Ah, so they were attracted to loud sounds. Good to know. That also explained why they were trying to break into the inn so badly in the first place, what with the shouting from before. Moving carefully and quietly would be the way to go here. They had no way of knowing how many of those things were out there, and he didn't have much confidence in the building lasting forever.

The little elf girl was the next to leave, though only for a short moment before coming back with a large, black staff taller than she was. He didn't understand the point of that. Why use a weapon that was bigger than you were? With her size, a weapon of that length would be more of a hindrance than anything else. Then again, her clothing suggested that wasn't quite what it was supposed to be used for.

That reminded him....

"I'll go make sure things are secure then. Guess you're on babysitting duty!" Bianca flashed Sylva a grin and thumbs-up, before heading down to assess things. Sora had already gone ahead to check things out, allowing them to cover more ground quickly. She focused mainly on the doors and windows, making sure they were secure. Or at least weren't about to collapse from the pressure of so many undead creatures vying for entry.

Sylva blinked, ".... Babysitting?"

Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd been left with a task no one else wanted to do. Still, that term was a bit....

He didn't get to finish his thought before Sora shouted something about Molotovs. Well, so much for staying quiet. The red-haired elf reappeared in the hall some seconds later, asking if any of them knew how to start a fire. That was easy enough as long as he had the materials for it, which given they were in a wooden building, was pretty likely.

"I can, but...." There was still a nagging feeling in the back of Sylva's head, and until he got rid of whatever was bothering him, it wouldn't go away. It was a new feeling, but he'd been putting it off for a while now. It was time to rectify that.

"There's something I need to check first," Sylva's voice was hesitant, but not because he was unsure. It was something a bit more complex than that. Something he should have addressed some time ago.

"Status."

Sylva wasn't 100% certain that it would work, but something about the situation made him want to try it regardless. And yet, there it was, staring him right in the face, blue glow and all. It didn't seem to fit in one bit compared to everything else around him. Everything about it was unnatural, in a way he couldn't quite describe. His eyes swept over every part of the "screen", taking in the descriptions and the–his gaze paused briefly on the race section. Dragonborn? Well, that certainly explained a lot of things. He also took a glance at his stats—they weren't anything too special, considering he was just level one—but none of that stood out to him as much as the final skill section did.

Rune Magic? Was that.... what he thought it was?

Would this even work? All logical indications pointed towards the fact that he was going crazy. And yet, there was a thrill in his body that he'd never felt before. Logic was useful in its own way, but sometimes you just had to take a leap of faith. With that simple thought in mind, Sylva brought his arm up to his chest and closed his eyes, concentrating. He breathed a soft sigh and let his eyes open once more, all his hesitation gone. Letting his newfound instincts guide him, his fingers traced a symbol in mid-air. Unbidden, the name left his lips.

"Ignis."

A modest flame appeared above his hand, flickering slightly, and Sylva smirked.

Groovy.

@VitaVitaAR @RolePlayerRoxas @SilverPaw @PKMNB0Y
Sylva

??? — Ruined Inn(?)



What was that scream?

Sylva's attention was broken from his thoughts when he heard the sound of footsteps. Turning around, he watched as a red-haired elf—that certainly wasn't something he saw every day—approached him. Before he could say anything, a stream of questions started flying from the elf's mouth and Sylva tilted his head in surprise. The sudden questions didn't bother him much. He could relate to that curiosity.

"Not a costume, but I'm not so sure about the flying part. I mean, my wings feel pretty strong, so I think I probably can. Now that you mention it...." Sylva trailed off, getting lost in his thoughts for a moment. Could he fly? Oddly enough, the thought hadn't crossed his mind yet, probably because he was a bit preoccupied with being an actual dragon person. It hadn't all quite sunken in yet. He had to test that out somehow. Preferably somewhere that wasn't inside of a rickety old building. Sylva mentally made a note to try out flying sometime soon, after he got a better grasp on the current situation.

"Don't worry about it. I had about the same reaction when I woke up," Sylva shrugged off Sora's apology with a grin, "Pleasure to meet you, Sora."

When Sora started mentioning how he remembered dying, Sylva frowned. Yeah, that sounded pretty familiar. He remembered boarding the plane, and everything that came after that. But that now begged the question; was everyone on the plane somehow sent here, or were they the only ones? He had no way of knowing the answer, but that didn't stop him from wondering; quite the opposite. He felt that familiar itch to learn more growing; to solve the mystery he found himself embroiled in. It was exciting, but he squashed his eagerness for now. First, he had to find his bearings. Speculating further would be useless until he knew what to do next.

To the rest of Sora's inquiries, he could only shake his head, "I'm afraid I don't know any more than you do, sorry."

Before he could say anything else, a door creaked open and his gaze shifted towards it curiously. Hm. That was where the scream from earlier came from. He wondered who was in there. The door was open now, but there didn't seem to be anyone there. At first, Sylva was a bit confused, but then he heard a feminine voice talking to Sora and it clicked. His eyes dropped a bit lower and he finally saw her. A small blonde elf-girl dressed like some kind of anime wizard who.... didn't seem to be doing too well, if the way she was shaking was anything to go off of.

.... Whose child was that? Actually, scratch that. If there was one thing he knew about elves, it was that you couldn't tell how old they were just by looking at them. He assumed that was the case here too. Probably.

The question she asked, however, was another thing he didn't know the answer to. He remembered the plane going down; he remembered the screeching sound of metal crumpling; he remembered the screams; he remembered–

.... Nothing? That was odd. His memory was normally perfect, and yet all he could remember was blank, like static. Yet another question he had no answer for. This was starting to get ridiculous. The more he thought about the situation, the more questions arose. Questions without obvious answers; puzzles.

And puzzles were meant to be solved.

A loud bang interrupted his musing, and Sylva's eyes widened in surprise. It didn't stop with just one, though, as a second bang sounded. Then a third. Then a fourth.

That was.... concerning.

"Uh.... I'm not the only one hearing that, am I?"

Sylva didn't know which answer would be worse.


@VitaVitaAR @RolePlayerRoxas @SilverPaw @PKMNB0Y

Sylva

??? — Ruined Inn(?)



Sylva hadn't known what to expect when he opened his eyes. So, when he found himself staring up at an aged wooden ceiling in a room he shouldn't have been in, he took it in stride. His back, however, did not.

Gingerly, he sat up from the—incredibly—uncomfortable bed and stretched his stiff arms and w–

.... Wait.

With a jolt, Sylva sprang from the bed, twisting his head around to check his back, and the pair of pure white wings jutting from between his shoulders. That wasn't the only thing that caught his attention, though. He hadn't noticed it at first, but it was kind of difficult not to realise that the thing wrapped around his leg was a tail. A white-scaled, finned tail.... his tail. And his wings.

Sylva paused for a moment, and then a broad grin stretched across his face.

"I'm.... a dragon?" It was more a question than anything else. Not that he actually expected an answer from anyone.

He was alive too, but that wasn't as cool to think about.

Another thing he noticed was his clothes. He folded his wings together—there was no word he could use to describe how weird that felt—to give himself a slightly better view of his body. This definitely wasn't what he was wearing before. Did someone redress him or something? That was a curious thing to happen. He didn't mind it all that much, though, since his current attire was pretty cool, at least in his eyes. Certainly better than what he would've been wearing after a plane crash like that. It even had shoulder armour and a cape! A short one, but still.

Anyway.... now that he was mostly done examining himself, he decided to take a look at his surroundings. His room didn't seem to have much to it other than what he'd already seen so the outside it was.

Sylva moved over to the singular window and peered outside to see.... nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing, but it might as well have been. The city outside was empty or close to it, save for what seemed to be a few people(?) clad in metal armour who were limping around the streets for some reason—kind of like zombies now that he thought about it. He also noticed a few bones and rusted metal armaments lying about on the streets. Considering the state they were in, they had probably been there for a while. That was something he'd like to check out, but that would have to come later. First, he wanted to get out of this room and check out the rest of the building.

Also, he wondered if there were other people here.

With that in mind, Sylva flung open the door to the hall, stepping out of his room and immediately catching sight of a blonde girl clad in a white outfit and some armour. That was quick. Immediately, he went to greet her, but then he paused.

Wait. Did she even speak English?

Well, he supposed there was only one way to find out.

"Hey–"

Suddenly, someone screamed. Really loudly.

@RolePlayerRoxas @VitaVitaAR
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