Hisakawa
Hisakawa was confused, mostly, though that didn’t really stop him from just sort of rolling with the circumstances. Being lectured by a mechanical bear wasn’t exactly his idea of a normal day, but he was mostly happy to be able to learn what was going on. Once he could get home, or at least to school, he could reevaluate everything and get back on task.
Though that didn’t mean he didn’t have concerns. What the hell was this guy talking about, not knowing where they were? And what the hell did he mean by wiping memories!? How much had been erased? What did he forget? Oh god, what if he forgot something really important? He was already forgetful enough without god damn memory loss thrown in!
But even then, this could be managed. This meeting is about getting out of here, right? He didn’t like not being able to fully remember anything, but he could figure out what was lost once he got out of here. He’ll probably just head right home. Leaving was clearly already way too much for him, and it hadn’t even been… well, who the hell knows how long. It didn’t matter. He just had to stay calm and do what the bear told him.
That changed completely once he heard the word “kill”.
This had to be some sort of joke, right? He couldn’t leave unless he killed somebody? That’s ridiculous! He can’t kill somebody! That’s insane! He needed to get out of here as soon as possible, but there was no way he could kill somebody to do that.
Hisakawa began to feel some sort of panic begin to settle in, his brain going into overdrive. Obviously, he had to get out. He couldn’t handle himself on his own, certainly not in circumstances like this. He had to get back home. He had to call—no, he lost his phone. God damn it, leave it to him to mess up something as simple as keeping a damn phone on him. There was no way everything would be okay if he just sat here and accepted the circumstances, but what the hell could he do about it? He supposed he could try to escape, at least, but he wasn’t too sure about his chances of success. Should he even try to escape? What the hell was the right thing to do here!?
Hisakawa desperately grasped onto the edge of the seat he sat in, his breathing becoming more laborious. Could he really do that? Kill somebody? He had to get home, or at least get in contact with the outside world again. But would he really be willing to kill someone for it? Hisakawa forced his head into his hands, as if blocking everything would stop the situation—it all seemed hopeless.
How the hell does this even happen? In what realm of reality is this a thing that happens!?
He shouldn’t have left. He should have stayed home. Home was safe. Home was gentle. Home was forgiving. He had been here for less than an hour and already everything was going insane.
No. He can’t do this now. He absolutely had to focus. This was a genuine dangerous situation. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to be calm and think clearly through everything—he was well aware of how skittish he could be—but if he can’t focus, he immediately condones himself to failure.
Upon having the PDA placed in his hands, he fiddled with the device, his shaking hands and unfocused eyes having a hard time navigating. Reading through the rules did nothing to relax him, nor did reading through any of the profiles. He looked over the people in the group, and it suddenly seemed to him that nobody here was trustworthy. Perhaps that was judgemental of him, but knowing that anyone around him right now would be justified in killing him certainly did nothing to calm his breathing. The purple haired man from before—Yamagata Ando, apparently—had lied about who he was before this whole killing game thing had even been brought up. The shit-eating grin made a lot more sense now. He probably should have picked up on that…
As he was mulling on this, a platinum-haired women approached the front, speaking to the group as a whole.
She was hostile, definitely standoffish, and, admittedly, her tone caused Hisakawa’s stomach to twist from anxiety. But she offered up a plan—sticking together in groups. It was at least a sense of direction, and it made sense enough to him, at any rate, though as Yamagata spoke out against her, he felt like an idiot for agreeing. You would think he’d really know better by this point. As Yamagata continued to talk, Hisakawa double checked to verify what he was saying. Sure enough, Alice was an assassin.
This was getting too much to process. He needed some sort of guidance, and he tried to find somebody he could rely on. Not far from him was Suzuki, and seeing as the guy so far had not lied to him and hasn’t made any sort of aggressive action, he turned over to him
“So, um-” He paused, suddenly reconsidering. Wasn’t it kind of manipulative for him to do this? But he already had Suzuki’s attention, and he didn’t want to waste his time. So, he went for it anyway, “What do you think about all of this?”
Damian
Damian, for most of the meeting, had his eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face. This whole thing was just kind of garbage, really. There weren’t many people around him, and from the one person he had talked to thus far, they didn’t seem to be a great crowd.
He didn’t really get what the bear was going on about in terms of not knowing where they were, which was a total lie, and a waste of time if we wasn’t even going to give any real answers. The memory loss was a bit more concerning, though, especially considering it was, apparently, a lot of memories. Well, at the very least, he wasn’t alone in that. For now, he was much more concerned about getting out. He didn’t come to Hope’s Peak to get kidnapped, after all.
“All you have to do is kill somebody!”
Now that… That was concerning. Damian certainly didn’t want to be here anymore, but was murder really the only way out of here? Damian wasn’t entirely sure he believed it—perhaps it was a cruel joke or a strange test the school had set for them. That’d be totally awful, but it’d be a hundred times better than this.
Damian started looking through the rules—all very well set out for a murder based game, certainly. He noticed a section on the students, and started flipping through the profiles—he was going to have to work with these people if he wanted to get out in a way that didn’t involve murder, after all. Well, that or learn how to get very comfortable with them.
He wasn’t exactly enthused with the crowd he found himself with, though. Not everyone seemed unpleasant—there were a few who didn’t immediately strike him as being a pain. Some people with more or less harmless demeanors and talents, at least from what he can gather at a glance and whatever he found on their profile. Some of the others even seemed a little childlike, which concerned him a bit, though when he looked up and saw one of these said individuals glaring around the amphitheater with pure malice in her eyes, he figured he probably wouldn’t need to worry that much. Another individual of note was this “Alice Parker” woman. Then again, it’s kind of hard not to take note of a woman who is literally the best there is at killing people in a killing game. He would absolutely have to keep his eye on her.
Another individual he noticed was Davis Gallo—which wasn’t hard, considering the man seemed to be begging to be payed attention to. God, who the hell does he think he is? Where the hell does he think he is? Is he really so insecure he’s gotta make a mockery of an actual killing game? And seriously? The worst reality TV show he’s ever been on? Damian rolled his eyes—he was sure Davis’ spotlight on Chopped was absolutely glamourous. He ended up not saying anything in response, however. Usually guys like him were way more trouble than they were worth.
Speaking of more trouble than they were worth, the woman from before, who he now knew was named Snow Iclyn, decided to show up and give a bunch of orders, but he had no intention of following her plan. If she wanted people to help her, she should probably not be such a stone-cold asshole all the time. Or, at least, he sure wasn’t going to take orders from someone like that.
He overheard some purple-haired man started slagging on Snow, and then brought up the matter of Alice and her talent as an assassin. Damian took note of him—he seemed on top of his shit, even if a bit gruff about it.
He looked back at the weird stuffed bear running all of this—Monokuma, if he remembered correctly. Whoever he was, he was definitely not to be trusted. Damian nodded to himself. The best course of action would be to get rid of him. He was clearly dangerous. And to do that, he needed information.
“So, Monokuma, what exactly are you? And what is all this for, anyway?”
