[ If he thinks too hard about the other world thing, he'll get a headache.
He'll stick to leaning back with an irritable look on his features, tugging at the edge of his beanie. ]
Like anything going wrong around here is a surprise... [ Sorry, Rosemary. But also, why. ] And inane shit shouldn't be what you're doing when you're...in whatever kinda situation this is. Taking a break's fine, but you could at least take it seriously.
Well, you're correct that this place tends to be hardly much of a surprise when it comes to much going wrong.
[ Smashcut to all of their recent disasters happening en masse, it's totally fine. ]
I'd have to agree, in the end, however. While the assortment into classes was quite a novel idea [ saying this as a teacher ], we really could have done without the haunted house.
I can't say I'm the type to be inclined towards icebreakers in general, but...perhaps in the future a better approach can be put in place.
Anaxagoras is striding out onto the beach, where the sun has risen up on high, casting its light down below.
He is not aware that there is something else amiss - that someone else is experiencing just the same phenomenon. He turns, to see the shadows creep.
Their visions are combined in a strange place, twisted by two Arcana - the Moon and the Hanged Man. Branches begin to climb up in shadow, beginnings of the distorted dream taking place...and as for Shinjiro's...? ]
[ Shinjiro is unfortunate, to pass by. The beach brings memories he'd rather not dwell on, the sight of it making his chest hurt.
The heat is downplayed by the way everything seems to blur, a numbness settling that makes his heart race despite it all. Then he blinks, and—
Things change.
The shadows are the least of his concern; the trees above hang low and block out the sky, although it can't block the way everything is tinged in a sickly green hue. There's water, now, but not warm and inviting like that of the beach; it's dark, glasslike, undisturbed and dotted with rotting red algae blooms. On the mirror-like surface, a green moon faintly distorts, as if it's sunken to the bottom and disturbed the silt.
There are red puddles around them, now. Cloying and sticky. Shinjiro, for what it's worth, manages to keep himself upright despite the way something like doubt and dread sinks into his stomach and twists.
He stares at the water, and the water stares back. He's fine. This is fine. ]
[ Nature ensues outwards, the reflection within the water showing the forest that has begun to pulse and grow outwards from the sky, the branches darkened with stagnancy, proliferating this subconscious world without hesitation.
They don't tremble, suspended in air as they blot out the sky with their presence. Ropes extend from nowhere, at first like vines, though it is clear they are more akin to nooses.
Dark symbols also reflected like the moon. Anaxagoras stares down into the watery depths and feels further away from where he is.
Barely aware of what he's doing, he takes a smaller branch that has extended outwards, tears it from it was, and tosses it almost thoughtlessly across the water, disturbing its reflected imagery. ]
[ There’s something achingly fitting about the long, twisting roots, nooses hanging low invitingly. They seem so close and yet so far, hanging above the water where something trembles beneath its surface.
There are masks, stuck in the muck. Differing colors and shapes. The red puddles blot them with stains, ones that shine eerily in the barely-there ghoulish glow that slips through the choking forest above.
The snap is loud, as is the sound it makes when it splashes into the water, moon scattering in the ripples. ]
…You think that’s gonna make it go away?
[ There is something exhausted in Shinjiro’s tone, gaze sliding from the brackish water to Anaxa himself.
Somewhere, something howls. The water trembles. You can hear the faint sound of grinding gears, clockwork ticking that stutters in time. ]
[ Anaxagoras' thoughts on their appearance are none so pleasant, their premonitions resting deeply in his soul like the eerie viridian color of that misbegotten moon positioned in the water's reflection at their feet.
The masks that hang in the twisted waters are also a dark omen - and his gaze lingers on them, before the the image of the celestial body had been temporarily disturbed. ]
No. I suppose something within myself simply wanted to take some sort of action.
The impulse is not borne of much careful thought, I'm afraid.
[ Anaxagoras passes Shinjiro a rueful smile. But, he isn't filled with turmoil, looking up in the sky, trying to figure out the source of that howl. For a moment within the reflection of the water, at the exact time as that clockwork ticks after a minute or two, there is a flicker of a distant land. It appears in ruins, but the disturbed waters leave it away as they still ripple. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anaxagoreia) wrote2025-11-13 07:04 am
week 1, wednesday
...You as well?
[ He looks on over, spotting Shinjiro. ]
no subject
He frowns, before looking at the bar and then back. ]
I ain't old enough to drink. [ Not something you'd expect someone like him to care about, but?? ] I'm just gettin' far away from that shitshow.
no subject
You're not?
[ He supposes different worlds might have different ages for that sort of thing... but, that being said - ]
It was quite a mess, yes. Full of nonsense, though I can't be really surprised.
At the same time, it would've been for the better if it weren't.
no subject
[ He'd say he's still in highschool, but it's hard to claim when you haven't really shown up more than a handful of days for 2 years.... ]
Not even the nonsense. [ It's not the egregious part. ] Doin' a haunted house right after two people died...that shit's just poor taste.
no subject
[ Anaxagoras can't imagine waiting until he was 20, simply because his world does not work that way. ]
...I admit, I gave it a pass because it seemed like the exact kind of inane thing people do in ridiculous situations.
However, as to be expected, it went wrong.
[ He seems to be thinking for a moment, though, frowning, eyebrows furrowing... ]
no subject
[ If he thinks too hard about the other world thing, he'll get a headache.
He'll stick to leaning back with an irritable look on his features, tugging at the edge of his beanie. ]
Like anything going wrong around here is a surprise... [ Sorry, Rosemary. But also, why. ] And inane shit shouldn't be what you're doing when you're...in whatever kinda situation this is. Taking a break's fine, but you could at least take it seriously.
no subject
Well, you're correct that this place tends to be hardly much of a surprise when it comes to much going wrong.
[ Smashcut to all of their recent disasters happening en masse, it's totally fine. ]
I'd have to agree, in the end, however. While the assortment into classes was quite a novel idea [ saying this as a teacher ], we really could have done without the haunted house.
I can't say I'm the type to be inclined towards icebreakers in general, but...perhaps in the future a better approach can be put in place.
week 3, monday
The cold has all but melted away.
Anaxagoras is striding out onto the beach, where the sun has risen up on high, casting its light down below.
He is not aware that there is something else amiss - that someone else is experiencing just the same phenomenon. He turns, to see the shadows creep.
Their visions are combined in a strange place, twisted by two Arcana - the Moon and the Hanged Man. Branches begin to climb up in shadow, beginnings of the distorted dream taking place...and as for Shinjiro's...? ]
no subject
The heat is downplayed by the way everything seems to blur, a numbness settling that makes his heart race despite it all. Then he blinks, and—
Things change.
The shadows are the least of his concern; the trees above hang low and block out the sky, although it can't block the way everything is tinged in a sickly green hue. There's water, now, but not warm and inviting like that of the beach; it's dark, glasslike, undisturbed and dotted with rotting red algae blooms. On the mirror-like surface, a green moon faintly distorts, as if it's sunken to the bottom and disturbed the silt.
There are red puddles around them, now. Cloying and sticky. Shinjiro, for what it's worth, manages to keep himself upright despite the way something like doubt and dread sinks into his stomach and twists.
He stares at the water, and the water stares back. He's fine. This is fine. ]
no subject
They don't tremble, suspended in air as they blot out the sky with their presence. Ropes extend from nowhere, at first like vines, though it is clear they are more akin to nooses.
Dark symbols also reflected like the moon. Anaxagoras stares down into the watery depths and feels further away from where he is.
Barely aware of what he's doing, he takes a smaller branch that has extended outwards, tears it from it was, and tosses it almost thoughtlessly across the water, disturbing its reflected imagery. ]
no subject
There are masks, stuck in the muck. Differing colors and shapes. The red puddles blot them with stains, ones that shine eerily in the barely-there ghoulish glow that slips through the choking forest above.
The snap is loud, as is the sound it makes when it splashes into the water, moon scattering in the ripples. ]
…You think that’s gonna make it go away?
[ There is something exhausted in Shinjiro’s tone, gaze sliding from the brackish water to Anaxa himself.
Somewhere, something howls. The water trembles. You can hear the faint sound of grinding gears, clockwork ticking that stutters in time. ]
no subject
The masks that hang in the twisted waters are also a dark omen - and his gaze lingers on them, before the the image of the celestial body had been temporarily disturbed. ]
No. I suppose something within myself simply wanted to take some sort of action.
The impulse is not borne of much careful thought, I'm afraid.
[ Anaxagoras passes Shinjiro a rueful smile. But, he isn't filled with turmoil, looking up in the sky, trying to figure out the source of that howl. For a moment within the reflection of the water, at the exact time as that clockwork ticks after a minute or two, there is a flicker of a distant land. It appears in ruins, but the disturbed waters leave it away as they still ripple. ]
Do those masks mean anything to you?