Anatase /hisrol/ El Club de Rol

El Club de Rol

Rolero Rhodolite-3a6d4e No.10375 es
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"Have you heard of the Absolute Role-Playing Club for Metaverse Transcendence, Fantastic Escapism, and the Preservation of the Sacred Art of Limitless Multiversal Simulation?!"

"Halt there, you poor soul wandering the halls of this concrete prison! Don't take another step, because fate has placed you before the only chance of your miserable and boring student life. Look at me closely, I am Kinoko Ichinose, the undisputed, magnanimous, and hyperactive president of the club that will save your sanity before I graduate and this place turns into a desert of zombies who only study for exams. I have dedicated my best years to the noble cause of reality simulation, and I don't intend to let the flame of role-playing die out in this high school. I am offering you the key to escape reality, a golden ticket to become what you've always wanted to be: a barbarian with giant axes, a cyber-punk detective with alcoholism problems, or a mystical creature with a monster harem. Everything is possible here and no genre is forbidden!"

"Our mission is absolute and knows no rest. We meet absolutely every day in the abandoned classroom behind the gym to plan our next conquests, draw maps of worlds that would make geographers cry, and debate the physical laws of magic. And you think the fun ends when the Friday bell rings? Not at all! On weekends, the action moves to my sacred temple, my humble home, where sessions extend until dawn amidst mountains of questionable snacks, pure caffeine, and an absolute lack of sleep. We role-play under the sheets, we role-play with flashlights if the power goes out, and if necessary, we stay awake for forty-eight hours straight to decide the fate of an imaginary empire. It's a glorious addiction, a marvelous obsession, and I guarantee that once you enter my territory, your brain will never be the same again."
"So stop looking at the ground shyly and accept your destiny. I don't care if you're a loner, a jock with an identity crisis, or an antisocial nerd; before my dice, all men and women are equal. I need fresh meat, moldable minds, and accomplices willing to lose their dignity with me in pursuit of the grand narrative. If you're afraid you won't measure up, forget about it, because I myself will take care of molding your wildest fantasies. The only thing separating your boring routine from an eternity of glory and madness is putting your dirty little fingers on this pen and filling out this beautiful admission form that I designed specifically to filter out the boring ones. Do it now, time is running out and my patience is as short as a gyaru's skirt on a summer day!"

"Fill out this simple form, please! And you'll be one of us! Muahahahaha!"

>Name and/or nickname:
"If you have a boring name, invent an epic nickname right now. If you don't, I'll christen you 'Crazy Underpants' and you'll have to live with it for the entire campaign."

>Exact age:
"I want to know the years, months, and if possible, the minutes. It's to calculate how much vital energy you have left before society consumes you completely."

>School grade:
"If you're a freshman, excellent, you're moldable material. If you're in my year, hurry up, we have little time left to sow chaos before they kick us out of here."

>Gender or Sex:
"Male, female, genderfluid elf, combat helicopter, or bodiless cosmic deity. I don't care what you have between your legs or in your mind, as long as you know how to hold a pencil and a twenty-sided die."

>Birthday:
"Crucial! I need to know your zodiac sign to predict if your dice rolls are going to be garbage or if the stars will align with my whims."

>Nationality:
"Are you a domestic Japanese product from Osaka, an exotic foreigner, or an illegal alien without intergalactic papers? I don't care where you come from, as long as your accent serves to add flavor and drama to your characters' voices during campaigns."
>Roleplaying experience:
"Are you a battle-scarred veteran of text-based combat or a complete virgin who's never touched a rulebook? Don't worry, I love to teach... and dominate."

>Favorite setting:
"Medieval dark fantasy, spaceships with nudist aliens, or psychological horror where we all die? Pick your poison, we play it ALL here."

>Favorite setting:
"Medieval dark fantasy, spaceships with nudist aliens, or psychological horror where we all die? Pick your poison, we play it ALL here."

>Dice type:
"If you don't have a favorite die, you don't have a soul. The twenty-sided one is king, but the four-sided one is good for stepping on barefoot and experiencing true pain."

>Character archetype:
"Do you like to charge headfirst into the fray, hide in the shadows like a coward, or cast weird spells from the back while laughing maniacally?"

>Current relationship status:
"Be honest. I don't want you bringing your boyfriend or girlfriend to a roleplaying session to make out in the corner, it completely breaks the vibe, you know? The only romance allowed is with the plot."

>Fetish or vice:
"We all have a secret, unconfessable obsession. Tell me yours; if it's weird and twisted enough, I'll give you bonus inspiration points."

>Favorite dinosaur:
"The ultimate test of maturity. If you say Triceratops, I know you're a reliable guy. If you say Velociraptor, you're probably a danger to the club."

>Ideal historical era:
"If you had a time machine, where would you go to cause a disaster? I'd go to ancient Rome to teach them what a real roleplaying game is."

>Snacks for roleplaying:
"What are you bringing to the weekend sessions at my place? You better not bring vegetables; we survive on fat, sugar, and preservatives here."

>Biggest absurd fear:
"I need to know what you're afraid of so I can use it against you when the campaign's script requires your character to have a mental breakdown. It's for art!"

>Weirdest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
"I've seen people eat cereal with water or toast with mayonnaise at 4 a.m. at my place during a TTRPG marathon. I need to gauge your food survival level to know if you'll withstand my lockdown weekends."

>Your favorite Pokémon:
"And you better not come at me with Charizard, or I'll kick you out for being basic. If you say Vaporeon, I'll be watching you very closely with a restraining order... we already know that internet meme, you degenerate."

>Your definitive anime opening:
"The song you'd play in your head while running with toast in your mouth because you're late for the club. If it's Evangelion's, you're in automatically; if it's from a cheesy romance anime, I'll make you wash my figure collection."

>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
"Is the Earth flat? Are teachers space lizards? Is the school principal actually a robot programmed by the government? Tell me your biggest madness; we'll use it here to create a mystery TTRPG campaign."

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
"Be honest, don't tell me you'd 'explore the city.' We all know perfectly well what the first thing you'd do in front of the mirror for the first three hours would be. You can't fool me!"

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
"That opinion that would get you beaten up on any internet forum. Drop it here. I want to see if you have the guts to defend a lost cause or if you're just a coward who follows the crowd."

>If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?:
"And don't tell me a bed because you're lazy. If you're a closet, it's because you hide too many dirty secrets; if you're a table, it's because you like people to put their things on you... and that sounds suspiciously suggestive."

>Rate your current mental health from 1 to 10:
"If you say 10, you're lying or you're a robot. If you say 1, perfect! You're the kind of emotional wreck I need to play a tragic villain hyperrealistically. Welcome aboard!"

"..."

"If you don't want to write all that... Just fill in the basics... Heh..."
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10376 pt
I keep gloom
Rolero Black Opal-c20b85 No.10377 es
I love the smell of a bocho in the morning
I'm saving a spot
Roleron Clinozoisite-149ec5 No.10378 es
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>>10377
>Name and/or nickname:
"Ujuju, it seems the winds and tides have not carried to your ears the story and tales of the great Maximun the Brave, the Alpha and Omega of worlds within worlds that play with the reality and perception of frivolous human minds...."

"Chemelier Verdun Takahara. That was my grandfather's name, the surname is from my parents. My cousins call me Chim"

>Exact age:
"That obsession with irrelevant details will only end up making your stories and worlds fall into an ouroboros of implosive canonicity, but since you ask, 17 years, 8 months, 21 days, 5 hours, and 3 minutes at the moment of filling out this form"

>School grade:
"Of your year, miss feminine, the last where the great legends of roleplaying dwell."

>Gender or Sex:
"A male of great stature and master of fiction like myself does not need to clarify details like those"

>Birthday:
"I was born during the solstice of the brightest summer, from there my mortal body inherited its elevated power for fictional manipulation and creation. June 21st"

>Nationality:
https://youtu.be/HbDRvWFRiBw"Sniff NOOOO, I AM A DIRTY HAFU WITH LATIN BLOOD, THAT STAIN WILL NEVER LEAVE MY LIFE, I AM VERY SORRY TO ALL THE KAMI'S, I FAILED GREAT HIROHITO, WAHHHH"

>Roleplaying experience:
"Pfff, are you incapable of detecting the aura of a veteran roleplayer just by looking at me? I've been doing this since I started faking my age on the internet"

>Favorite setting:
"I am a simple man, nothing warms my heart more than a good classic medieval high fantasy with a good comedic dose. Although a Steampunk story is not bad from time to time either"

>Dice type:
"The enormous possibilities offered by the D100"

>Character archetype:
"The Paladin always at the front, the one who attacks and protects, the defender of his own and what is just"

>Current relationship status:
"I'm lonelier than a stray dog with a broken leg"

>Fetish or vice:
"Can you blame a man for thinking a woman wearing a skirt made of used condoms is sexy? I'm only human"

>Favorite dinosaur:
https://youtu.be/KY5ArW3Ncfo"I couldn't blame a femoid for not knowing this specimen of Pervatsaurus, just another proof of the crudeness in the natural world that we humans are capable of handling"

>Ideal historical era:
"Old London in the 1900s, do you have any idea of the role-playing inspiration that could be drawn?, Jack the Ripper, Spring-heeled Jack, the cursed wolves, Arthur Conan Doyle, I'm drooling just thinking about it...ehhh~"

>Food for roleplaying:
"I'm a decent pig, not a hog, I always bring at least a soda and a good pack of chips, chips aren't the same if you don't accompany them with Doritos"

>Greatest absurd fear:
"Mannequins with facial features, they give off bad vibes"

>Rarest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
"Reheated bread with cheese and a piece of banana"

>Your favorite Pokémon:
"Infernape, nothing beats its inspiration from the great monkey king Sun Wukong"

>Your definitive anime opening:
https://youtu.be/Oq9RWFVQaBs"Obviously we're talking about the opening of the Sato brothers' masterpiece, HighSchoolOfTheDead, the song of the same name for its stellar animated adaptation, the single sung by Kisida Kyodan & THE Akebosi Rockets, although I'm not referring to the original from 2010, but to the version sung in 2021, you can really see the evolution of the band and singer, it's uufff magnificent"

>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
"The Yankee government has always wanted to hide the existence of the race of red-haired giants and their underground cave systems that connect to the hollow earth"

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
"I'd open an OnlyFans, I'm a pig but not stupid"

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
"Ryukishi07 is overrated"

>If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?:
"I'd be the recliner my uncle left me after he was shot in Tijuana, it's very comfortable and holds up to 150 kilos"

>Rating of your current mental health from 1 to 10:
"5.55555555, because in life, the middle ground is necessary, you need a little insanity to be healthy and not be too healthy because otherwise you'd be a dirty Normie"
Rolero Malaia-1506c9 No.10379 es
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>Name and/or nickname:
My name is Ri Sōteki. I've been called Li, Lee, Yi, or Asakura, I don't mind.

>Exact age:
17 years, 6 months, 14 days. My mother said I was born on a rainy night but I don't know the exact time.

>School grade:
Second year.

>Gender or Sex:
Male.

>Birthday:
01/01.

>Nationality:
My mother came from Korea but I was born in Japan. I'm afraid I don't have an accent, as far as I know.

>Roleplaying experience:
I participated in an Anima campaign that lasted two full turns, other than that I've only occasionally read manuals.

>Favorite setting:
Science fiction and horror interest me, as long as they involve investigation.

>Dice type:
6-sided dice.

>Character style:
I'm not a fan of conflict, but if it's unavoidable I'd prefer to support my colleagues from the shadows or the back ranks.

>Current relationship status:
I want to die. I confused it with emotional state and I don't have a correction pen so I can only cross it out, sorry. Single.

>Fetish or vice:
I wouldn't call it a vice or fetish, but I've felt a particular attraction to the traditional clothing of priestesses. I'd say it's a cultural interest.

>Favorite dinosaur:
Nanotyrannus. It resembles a Tyrannosaurus, with the difference of being smaller and more aggressive. It was the true king of the dinosaurs, a short king.

>Ideal historical era:
Some era close to the industrial revolution, I'd like to experience the inventions of those times.

>Food for roleplaying:
If tea isn't an appropriate drink we could share the candy my mother buys, I don't have a very sweet palate.

>Biggest absurd fear:
Oppenheimer's speech scared me when I was younger. Those kinds of recordings still make me uncomfortable, if that counts as absurd.

>Rarest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
I once found a blooming potato and felt curious enough to try its petals, I was rewarded in the same way as the cat, although I don't know how many deaths I experienced that day.

>Your favorite Pokémon:
The Bagon evolutionary line. The story of the monster who wished his whole life he could fly and only got his wings after 50 levels of training is inspiring. Dragons are majestic beasts.

>Your definitive anime opening:
I don't see myself running with or without a slice of bread in my mouth, but I imagine walking calmly to school listening to the opening of Serial Experiments Lain would be the most ideal way to start the day.

>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
I like the theory that we are all brains in a vat full of nutrients and that everything we perceive is the product of electrical signals we receive from the machine we are connected to. It's a more plausible interpretation of the matrix.

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
I would experiment with my body as much as possible. If I only have one day to understand the phenomenon, I have to take advantage of it and investigate thoroughly. Carpe Diem.

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
Any scientist or professional in any field has the right to abandon their work for any personal or professional reason, regardless of how it affects the advancement of humanity or whatever they are working on. Those responsible for the progress from which the world benefits are people too, and if they value their own lives as individuals, they have the right to reclaim them even if it affects the rest of the world that wants to force them to work to squeeze the last drop of profit from their efforts.

>If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?:
I would be a mirror, if it counts as furniture. Although I don't like looking at myself in the mirror, the reflective properties of surfaces interest me. If a mirror doesn't count as furniture... I would be a piece of furniture with a mirror attached.

>Rating of your current mental health from 1 to 10:
3.
Rolero Turquoise-17c950 No.10381 es
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>>10375
What a delicious head
>Name and/or nickname
Jhon Miller "JM".
>Exact age
Calm down, calm down, you're asking for minutes, seriously? Well, 16 years and 7 months, ask chatgpt for the rest.
>School grade
First year.
>Gender or sex
Are you offering me sex?
>Birthday
January second.
>Nationality
You said you didn't care.
>Role-playing experience
Do you mean trendy role-playing games like Undertale? They're called RPGs, not role-playing, but yes, months ago.
>Favorite setting
Most people like dark and disturbing RPGs, and I do too, although I don't know many haven't tried them.
>Dice type:
I've seen coins in Fear and Hunger, but dice? I don't know, a six-sided die, maybe?
>Character style:
The simple ones where you just equip armor and give them a weapon and that's it, I get enormously lazy thinking about magic strategies.
>Current relationship status:
I asked a beautiful girl out, she told me her parents punished her and she can't, and several have told me the same thing, is something wrong with the world or is it just me and my terrible luck?
>Fetish or vice:
Do you want me to get canceled?
>Favorite dinosaur:
Don't mess with my beloved velociraptors!
>Ideal historical era:
The nostalgia of the 80s, I've read too many comments about that era, and yes, very nostalgic.
>Food for role-playing
I don't usually eat while playing, but I could bring pizza or fries, if my mom lets me.
>Greatest absurd fear:
Those disgusting little ladybugs, I have a fit every time I see them, I don't want to imagine them on my back while they tickle me and inject me with poison or something, I'm being sincere right now.
>Rarest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
I don't really know how to cook either. A can of expired tuna, it was either eat that or starve to death for running away from home one night as punishment.
>Your favorite Pokémon:
Everyone likes Pikachu.
>Your definitive anime opening:
The Evangelion opening, it always shows up in my YouTube recommendations, I should watch the anime.
>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
Everyone has something against Jews, but they forget that we are all being controlled by vaccines!
>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
Does it need to be written?
>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
For some reason everyone has a trauma with personal development and blah blah blah, that doesn't help at all, I started believing that since I saw a video related to loquendo with 200 views by pure chance a while ago.
>If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?:
A chair, feeling the butts of beautiful women on me, ufff.
>Rating from 1 to 10 for your current mental health:
Three? It's just that depression wants to get me again.
Rolero Tulite-2cd290 No.10382 es
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>Name and/or nickname:
Crazy Underwear will be, I have no problem being called that.

>Exact age:
27. Yes, you heard right, 27 years old.

>School grade:
None, I don't attend this school. I'm just here as part of my routine of educating young minds.

>Gender or Sex:
Everyone is free to find that out whenever they want.

>Birthday:
October 4, 1995

>Nationality:
My last fake passport says I'm from Lithuania

>Roleplaying experience:
Every day I play the role of a new person, is that enough?

>Favorite setting:
Urban context, with or without powers. Nothing beats the possibilities offered by the concrete jungle.

>Dice type:
In real life, the king of dice will always be a d6

>Character style:
The mysterious and presumptuous idiot

>Current relationship status:
I am married to my fantasies

>Fetish or vice:
Well, do you know a series called Fate Kaleid Prisma Illya? I know what you're thinking, and no, it's not what you think. It's much worse!
I have never seen an episode of said series and... doing so would be impossible given what I'm about to tell you, but... There is a certain character, her name is Miyu Edelfelt. Well, the thing is this, every time I see an image of Miyu I can't help but think about eating her. No, I don't mean in a sexual sense. I mean eating her in the most literal sense of the word! No other character has ever caused me a sensation like this, but Miyu...
How to put it... Her flesh looks so soft, like veal, the kind that melts in your mouth at the first bite. That's what you'd think at first, but a closer look would make you notice that there's a certain firmness that isn't apparent at first glance. Yes, it's not a meat that turns into mush when you put it in your mouth. No, no, it has just the right firmness to maintain its shape for the right amount of time for you to enjoy it.
The taste... I can only imagine, but a good part of taste comes mainly from our sense of smell. Usually, one wouldn't eat something that smells bad. With Miyu, that's not the case, that pale, white, and pristine skin makes it more than clear that she's a clean girl. No matter the context in which you bite her, she will always smell good...
Besides that, she's also relatively athletic. Why does that matter? Well, the other important part of meat's flavor comes from sweat. Thanks to it, salt levels in the meat can increase naturally. As a Japanese person, she sweats very little, leaving her flavor at a perfect level to taste as is or spice to taste.
I could continue my explanation, but if I did I'd end up dehydrated from salivating so much.

>Favorite dinosaur:
Therizinosaurids, those claws of theirs look great

>Ideal historical era:
The present

>Food for roleplaying:
If you have money I can buy you alcohol

>Greatest absurd fear:
Hmm... Teeth, they make me uncomfortable when they're too prominent. Especially if they're non-human teeth on something non-human.

>Rarest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
HA! Cooking, and you call yourself lazy? If you knew what laziness was, you'd know the pleasure of frozen, raw chicken nuggets.

>Your favorite Pokémon:
Heracross, I guess.

>Your ultimate anime opening:
Chaos! Chaos! I wanna chaos!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J249s8irHlc
>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
All good conspiracy theories were proven real since your, you know what, event.

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
Get scared, look at my body, and see if anyone else experienced the same thing

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
Companies should belong to themselves. All this selling out to shareholders is idiocy that causes them to end up self-destructing to please idiots who don't even understand what the company does.

>If you were a piece of furniture, which would you be and why?:
I don't have a particular preference for any.

>Rating of your current mental health from 1 to 10:
Between 6 and 2 depending on the day.
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10383 es
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>>10382
>>10381
What a tremendous field of turnips the Roleplaying Club will be, we need female strength, damn it!!! Or they'll end up doing sword fights and not Dungeons & Dragons... I'll start responding shortly kek
Rolero Almandine-5f9c94 No.10384 es
>>10383
It's realistic.
Rolero Native Gold-d22657 No.10385 es
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>>10375
>Name and/or nickname:
Tremble, heroes and villains, because I, Bibi, have arrived to control this dark and terrible world, in the name of my father, the dark general of the 7 worlds.

>Exact age
16 years, 9 months, 29 days.

>School grade:
I'm in 2nd grade, my parents say I'm so smart they moved me up a year.

>Gender or Sex:
Jujuju, does this dark general have to show her great attributes? WELL NO, it will remain a secret.

>Birthday
02/29, Incredible right?

>Nationality:
I come from the distant lands of planet 55, but commoners like you call it "Kyoto"

>Role-playing experience:
I have no experience at all, in fact, I got here by feeling a great, incredible amount of mana here.

>Favorite setting
Cyberpunk Magic, after all, I come from a multiversal magical empire.

>Dice type:
I only know the 20-sided one, I'm a larper.

>Character style:
No, I prefer to see people smile with my incredible magic, after all, I have the power of magic within me.

>Current relationship status:
My father has promised me to someone from dimension 455A, but I haven't met them yet fufufu, do you think I'm a chad for already being with someone in the future?

>Fetish or vice:
JUJUJU, obviously I like to dominate and crush my enemies with total dominance, they are all my pets in the game of life, after all, this planet belongs to me.

>Favorite dinosaur
The carnotaurus obviously.

>Ideal historical era:
You are tremendously based Kinoko, I would like to go to Macedonia, surely they would worship me there fufufu.

>Food for role-playing
Pepperoni pizza, the classic, the ideal, the others disgust me, especially if they have meat or mushrooms, you put them on and I'll kill you with a knife.

>Biggest absurd fear:
That everyone starts laughing at me after I do something I really appreciate or like... Wait, did you say absurd? I'm afraid of chinchillas, I hate them, they are my natural enemy.

>Rarest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook:
Powdered milk...

>Your favorite Pokémon:
Ditto hehehe.

>Your definitive anime opening:
Listen to it yourself https://youtu.be/l5S0JhqULAU?si=Ew1iI6zGAd2b_e2E
>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
The English never left the United States and control the world, it's obviously like that, since we put the English in power.

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
I could do... You know... That...

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
Sacrificing yourself for others is very cool.

>If you were a piece of furniture, which one would you be and why?:
I would like to be one of those old people's chairs that recline, because I liked to rock in them.

>Rating of your current mental health from 1 to 10:
3.1415926
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10386 pt
>>10375
I keep a spot
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10387 es
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>>10384
Sadly realistic!!!!

>>10378
>The golden, dusty light of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows of the second-year classroom. It was the end of the school day at Kamome High School, a building that, despite its attempts at modernization, always smelled of old chalk, hallway disinfectant, and the thousands of students who had passed through it. The hum of the final bell of the day still echoed faintly in the air, like a collective sigh of relief.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>Professor Sato, a man with slumped shoulders who seemed to have been born in his worn gray suit, closed his attendance book with a sharp snap. It was the sound everyone had been waiting for.

Teacher Sato: That's all for today. Don't forget to review the Meiji Era for next week's exam. You are dismissed.

>He mumbled, without much conviction, as he quickly gathered his things and left through the door, disappearing like a ghost into the already noisy hallway.

>Instantly, the classroom came alive. The uncomfortable silence of the class was replaced by the clatter of chairs scraping against the linoleum, the zipping of backpacks, and a symphony of teenage voices discussing afternoon plans, video games, school romances, and pending assignments. Groups of friends formed around desks, some laughing, others complaining about history class.

>Chemelier Verdun Takahara was sitting in his usual spot, a quiet corner where his imposing figure didn't draw too much attention. The sun streaming through the window hit his face, but he didn't seem bothered. His thick fingers idly toyed with a keychain hanging from his backpack. Perhaps he was mentally reviewing character sheets for the new campaign, or simply enjoying the brief peace before his next destination. There was no rush.... Suddenly, a forceful sound interrupted the noisy atmosphere of the classroom and cut short whatever Chemelier Verdun Takahara was doing at that precise moment. A SLAM of two palms landing on the surface of his desk.
>SLAM!

>The first thing he saw was a huge smile, so wide it seemed to stretch the face of the person in front of him. Then, the blinding glare of the sun bouncing off the round, exaggeratedly thick lenses, almost like bottle bottoms.

>Kinoko Ichinose. The very president of the "Absolute Role-Playing Club..." (the list of adjectives was always long and pompous, but everyone knew her simply as President Kinoko). She had dark green hair, a bit messy and with a suspicious shine that screamed "second day without washing my hair," framing an energetic and always smiling face. She wore her uniform somewhat carelessly; her blouse was half undone and her pants looked like they urgently needed ironing. Furthermore, she carried a fanny pack, bum bag, pouch, waist bag, or whatever the hell you call it in your country, where she kept a thousand and one things that were of real use to her. But what drew the most attention wasn't her attire, but her presence. She was a force of nature.

Kinoko: Takahara-dono!

>Her voice was strangely high-pitched and full of energy, a contrast to the general murmur of the classroom. Her gaze shone intensely through the lenses, almost as if she could see beyond reality.

Kinoko: At last, the bell of freedom has rung! Are you prepared, oh, noble warrior of the dice, for your first official session with the new recruits of the Absolute Role-Playing Club for Metaverse Transcendence, Fantastic Escapism, and the Preservation of the Sacred Art of Unlimited Multiversal Simulation?

>She leaned even further over Takahara's desk, her face inches from his, an invasion of his personal space that Kinoko didn't seem to mind. You could smell the caffeine from the energy drink can she had probably just finished, mixed with the scent of dust and a lack of bathing that was accentuated by the afternoon heat. A smell that, for a role-player accustomed to conventions or marathon sessions in enclosed spaces, was almost familiar, a kind of fragrance of "geek authenticity."
Kinoko: It fills me with infinite joy to see a veteran of your caliber has joined our noble crusade. Your vast experience in the realms of imagination and hyperrealistic simulations will be a beacon of light amidst the darkness of the newcomers. I'm almost tempted to immediately appoint you my Vice President of Multiversal Affairs! Of course, that's only if some cute girl or fresh first-year cutie shows up whom we can manipulate—I mean, guide!—with our rolery wisdom. If not, well, you'll just stay as my right hand, my faithful advisor in this glorious vice.

>She straightened up slightly, letting out a quick, nervous laugh.

Kinoko: And speaking of first-years... oh, how I wish I'd recruited more! I just love freshmen. They're so fresh, so pure, so... malleable. Not that there's any particular reason, of course not! But well, since we're their senpais, we always have some silly excuse we can use to make them believe us. That it's for their character development, that it's to help them feel the true essence of roleplaying, that it's some initiation test... anything! Let's be honest, Takahara-dono, we could grope their tits and tell them it's to calibrate the damage of an imaginary arrow, and they'd probably believe us! It's a vice, a wonderful obsession, muahahahaha!

>Kinoko let out an exaggerated, loud cackle, a shrill sound that cut through the classroom conversation like an axe. This wasn't a subtle or restrained laugh; it was an explosion of uninhibited, eccentric joy.

>Instantly, the noise in the classroom halted for a second. Takahara's classmates turned toward the scene. Their reactions varied, but none were kind. Some looked at her with pure discomfort, as if witnessing a mental traffic accident. Others made faces of disgust, quickly looking away to avoid having to witness the president's lack of hygiene. A few stared at her with absolute contempt, whispering cruel remarks under their breath. "It's that crazy woman," "I wonder when she'll finally graduate," "Hasn't anyone told her she stinks?"—their voices, though low, were clearly audible.
>Kinoko, however, seemed completely immune to the stares. She didn't even blink at the awkward silence she had caused. Her attention was entirely fixed on Takahara, a smug smile still on her face.

Kinoko: Well then, Takahara-dono, time waits for no one, and my patience is as short as a gyaru's skirt on a summer day... I like that line—HA! I'm heading ahead to the abandoned classroom behind the gym to get things ready. I have to make sure the welcome is epic enough for the new recruits to feel the true power of our club! I don't want people seeing us walking together, you know? My reputation's already bad enough without folks thinking we're a thing. Can you imagine? I'd never date a fatty—would ruin my image as an attractive yet antisocial freak! Anyway, see you there! Don't be late!

>With a swift motion, Kinoko slapped Takahara hard on the back, a blow that made him lurch forward in his seat. Then, she turned around and left the classroom, walking slowly but firmly toward the door, her backpack—covered in patches of forgotten anime and RPG dice—swaying rhythmically with each step, vanishing into the hallway as quickly as she had appeared.

>Takahara remained alone at his desk, the sensation of Kinoko's slap still lingering on his back. The classroom filled with noise again, but now the whispers were directed at him, and he could clearly hear them:

—You saw who Takahara was talking to, right?
—Yeah, the crazy president of the roleplay club... Gross.
—They say she smells like cats and video games all day.
—Poor Takahara, he's weird enough already without hanging out with her.
—Bet she recruited him to buy her food. Did you see how big he is?

>The whispers weren't kind, nor subtle. They were cruel and direct, loaded with the merciless judgment of teenagers who didn't understand what it meant to be different. But Takahara was used to it, so it was time to pack your things and leave. The abandoned roleplay club room awaited, and the real adventure was about to begin.
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>>10379
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>The metallic screech of the Kamome High School bell echoed through the hallways, marking the long-awaited end of the school day. In the second-year classroom, the atmosphere shifted instantly; the monotonous murmur of the substitute teacher was replaced by the dragging of chairs, the crackle of backpacks zipping shut, and the bustle of dozens of teenagers eager to savor the freedom of the afternoon. Some students bolted as if the building were on fire; others gathered in circles, laughing, planning trips to arcades, or gossiping about the week's latest rumors.

>To an outside observer, it was a peaceful, routine afternoon, the start of a calm transition into leisure. However, that illusion of peace shattered in a millisecond when a booming, hoarse voice, thick with primitive malice, tore through the classroom air, instantly silencing the laughter of the students still lingering in the room.

Gonda: Hey, pee-face! Where the hell do you think you're going, piece of trash?!

>The shout came from the back door of the classroom. The speaker was a specimen that seemed to have jumped straight out of a pamphlet on extreme juvenile delinquency. His name was Ryūji Gonda, a massive bully with messy brown hair that crowned his skull like a dry bush. Gonda's face was decorated with the marks of his own stupidity: poorly healed scars crossing his eyebrow and bandages, remnants of street fights he clearly hadn't won due to his intellect. With heavy steps that made the floor vibrate, Gonda pushed his way through the empty desks, pointing directly at Ri Sōteki with an index finger that looked like a poorly cooked sausage.

>Before the air could return to the lungs of those present, Gonda's huge, calloused hand clamped violently around Ri Sōteki's shirt collar. With no effort at all, using only the brute strength of his right arm, the giant lifted the boy off the ground as if he were an old ragdoll, forcing him to hang suspended in the air with his feet dangling just centimeters above the tiles.

>Accompanying the colossus, slipping through the shadows with the silent grace of a venomous snake, appeared his boss. This guy was the perfect antithesis of brute force: a thin guy with slumped shoulders but an extremely intimidating presence. His name was Shūji Hanaya. His dark hair was styled upward in a pompadour, highlighting a streak of dyed neon blonde right in the center. He had amber eyes, slanted and mocking, adorned with a long gold earring dangling from his left ear. The most striking thing about his appearance, besides his unhinged smile that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, was the kanji tattoo carved in black ink on the back of his left hand. Hanaya interlaced his fingers just beneath his chin, watching the scene with sadistic delight, visibly enjoying the tension and vulnerability of his prey.
>Gonda brought his clenched fist, the size of a teacup, to within a few millimeters of Ri's nose. As he spoke, saliva splattered from his mouth with no regard for hygiene, filling the air with a foul stench of cheap fast food.

Gonda: Just look at you... you still have that damn zombie face from three days without sleep. What's wrong, shorty? Are your legs shaking? You're so scrawny I'm afraid I'll break you before I even have real fun. You disgust me, seriously. One gust of wind and you'd fly off to the lost-and-found.

>Hanaya let out a stifled, high-pitched giggle, devoid of any trace of human empathy. He took a step forward, balancing on his heels, and waved one of his tattooed hands through the air, mimicking the flight of a mosquito.

Hanaya: Come on, Gonda, don't be so rough with our dear potential client. We need to have manners for business, don't you think? Let's see... I suppose you've had enough time to think about the wonderful offer we proposed to you yesterday. You know, the incredible opportunity to 'help us' distribute our special product around the school. There are too many depressed idiots in this prison who would do anything for a quick escape ticket, and you have the perfect face of someone who goes unnoticed.

>The skinny bully leaned in even closer, invading Ri's personal space with mathematical coldness.

Hanaya: We want an answer by first thing tomorrow morning. And let me clarify the situation so you don't use that serious little head of yours to draw the wrong conclusions. You only have two paths. The first: you refuse, and you officially become Gonda's personal punching bag for the next few months; he's a simple guy, gets bored quickly, so he'll have to get creative with you. The second: you decide not to cooperate but also don't want us to break your teeth, which makes you our private bank. You'll have to bring us a fixed sum of yen every day as a 'circulation tax' for the mere privilege of continuing to breathe Kamome's air. If you're even one yen short one day... well, we'll consider that you've decided to rescind your right to life. Was I clear enough, or do you need Gonda to translate it for you in punches?

>Hanaya let out a machiavellian laugh that echoed off the walls of the empty classroom. The silent panic in the air was almost palpable, an asphyxiating atmosphere where time seemed to have frozen for Ri Sōteki. However, fate had prepared a highly unexpected interruption.
>The dry, rhythmic sound of high heels striking the hallway floor announced an imminent arrival. The classroom door swung wide open with a firm slam. At the threshold appeared a young woman of imposing stature, her pale blue eyes gleaming with a mix of annoyance and absolute authority. Her hair, a striking bright pink, hung straight down her back and shoulders, framing a face with fine but severe features. She wore a dark brown formal office suit, perfectly tailored, highlighting her imposing presence. She was the second-year homeroom teacher of Ri's class, a foreign woman from Uruguay named Natalia Cannobio.

Natalia: Well, what do my eyes see... Did this classroom turn into a wrestling gym and nobody told me? Let the kid go right now before I use these notes to rewrite both your faces.

>Professor Natalia's voice carried a particular accent, a blend of a subtly adapted Rioplatense cadence into Japanese, yet loaded with an ironclad firmness that allowed no argument. She crossed her arms beneath her bust, narrowing her eyes toward the delinquents.

>Gonda blinked, intimidated by the teacher's cold gaze, and his grip slackened immediately. He roughly released Ri's shirt, letting the boy regain his footing abruptly. Hanaya, for his part, wiped half his sadistic smile away, shoving his hands into his pants pockets with feigned innocence, though his yellow eyes flashed with frustration.

Hanaya: Professor Natalia... what a surprise to see you here at this hour. We were just... having a friendly chat about our classmate's academic future. You know how we care about student welfare.

Natalia: Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of England, my love. Don't lie to my face, Hanaya, I know perfectly well the kind of 'welfare' you two handle. Get out of here. Both of you. If I see you two near this classroom harassing your classmates again, I swear by my homeland that the suspension you'll get will make your parents wish they never had you. Move it!

>Gonda growled through his teeth, rubbing the back of his neck, while Hanaya turned around with a sigh of annoyance. Before crossing the door, the boy with the blonde streak paused for a moment, turning his head slightly to fix Ri with a final look loaded with dark promises. With a quick gesture of his tattooed hand, he mimed cutting his own throat, a silent reminder that the deadline expired the next day. Immediately after, both bullies disappeared down the hallway, grudgingly.

>Professor Natalia sighed deeply, tilting her head as she watched the delinquents walk away. Once silence returned to the classroom, she slowly walked toward Ri. Without warning, she raised the gradebook she was holding and gave the boy a sharp, light tap on the crown of his head. It wasn't a blow meant to hurt, but firm enough to wake him up.
Natalia: Come on, Sōteki... Care to explain why you let people treat you like a floor rag? Where did your pride go? You just stand there like a pole waiting to get beaten to a pulp. Honestly, I support education by beating in cases like this; sometimes a good right hook in time teaches more than a hundred textbooks, I'm telling you from personal experience.

>The teacher leaned against one of the front desks, sighing again with an expression of accumulated exhaustion. Her blue eyes seemed to lose some of their professional severity, revealing a more personal side.

Natalia: I know firsthand what it's like to be a foreigner in this blessed country. Ever since they decided to apply that damn self-isolation because of that divine war a few years back, Japan has become unbearable for gaijins and hafus. They look at us like we have the plague, or worse, like we're invaders about to drop a bomb on Hiroshima... Again. But the solution isn't to bow your head and let idiots like Gonda walk all over you. You gotta toughen your skin, kid.

>She crossed her arms once more, drawing a small, crooked smile that combined genuine warmth with a rather acidic sense of humor.

Natalia: Anyway... take care of yourself, okay? I'll be keeping a close eye on you to make sure you don't get into bad trouble or end up doing shady business with those two brain-deads. I know deep down you're a good kid. Although, of course, judging by your current grades... let's just say the future doesn't look like you'll be the next Nobel Prize winner. But hey, if you try a little bit, at least I hope you'll become a decent salaryman, the kind who falls asleep on the train after working fifteen hours straight. That would be a resounding success by my teaching standards, don't you think?"

>The teacher let out a small mocking laugh at her own cruel joke. Then, her face regained a more relaxed tone and she gestured with her head toward the classroom exit.

Natalia: Go on, pack your stuff and get out of here to your club already. By the way... I heard somewhere that you finally joined a school club. Although, let me tell you, I don't understand how you let yourself be dragged into that martyrdom of the roleplay club. Are you insane? Be very careful with that girl, Kinoko Ichinose. She's completely nuts, living in another dimension. I'm giving you a woman's advice: if you're the most effeminate guy or have the softest features in the group, never leave her alone with you under any circumstances. That crazy woman is capable of using you as her personal doll and dressing you in maid or schoolgirl outfits before you can even spell the word 'dignity'."

>The afternoon was falling quickly, and the mysterious abandoned classroom behind the gymnasium, home to Ichinose's most deranged fantasies, awaited him.
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>>10381
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>The shrill and relentless sound of the Kamome High School bell echoed through the hallways, officially marking the end of another torturous school day. For the first-year students, that sound was not just a physical release from the classroom drowsiness, but a psychological frontier. The teacher of the day packed his notes with the same apathy he had used to lecture, turned around, and crossed the door threshold without looking back, leaving the group plunged into an instant chaos of opening backpacks, dragging chairs, and the explosion of cross-talk. In the air floated a very particular mix of hormones, exhaustion, and that strange discomfort of belonging to the lowest rung of the school hierarchy. The first-graders still carried the stigma of being the "newbies," the novices who looked at the hallways with a mix of awe and shyness, desperately trying to fit into a social jungle they had not yet fully mastered. While some shot out in noisy groups toward the lockers, others regrouped inside the classroom, forming small islands of complicity and whispering about what they would do with the rest of their free afternoon.

>Jhon Miller observed everything from his seat, experiencing that dense and heavy end-of-class atmosphere. Suddenly, the heaviness of the air was broken when a familiar silhouette crossed the classroom entrance with a firm step and overwhelming confidence. It was Takeshi Smirnov, Jhon's best friend, the only and unconditional companion who had never left him hanging since the hazy days of middle school. Takeshi exuded a rough but extremely magnetic masculinity; he was a tall boy with a defined jaw and a challenging gaze, wearing a black cap turned backward that had become his personal trademark. His presence radiated the confidence of someone who knows they own the place, but that afternoon he was not coming alone. Clinging to his side, almost merging with his body, advanced his girlfriend, a girl named Mei. She possessed a mane of such deep dark blue it seemed to absorb the classroom light, adorned with a smile overflowing with almost angelic kindness. However, what truly froze the gazes and dominated the visual space was her exuberant anatomy. Mei displayed truly colossal front attributes, two enormous and imposing masses that defied the seams of the high school white uniform and that, without exaggeration, possessed a volume superior to Miller's own head.
>The girl walked clinging tightly to Takeshi's arm, seeking a physical contact so intimate and desperate that it betrayed a complex deeply rooted in her personal history. Mei never mentioned her father's surname; she only introduced herself as "Mei L." The reason was an open secret: that surname revealed a foreign origin, from England, linked to an absent father whom she detested with all her might. That obvious emotional lack, those "daddy issues" the size of a cathedral, pushed her to seek constant refuge and validation in Takeshi's manly chest, staying glued to him as if she feared the world would swallow her if she let go for even a second.

>Takeshi Smirnov stopped in front of Jhon's desk, letting out a raspy laugh while shaking his head in annoyance.

Takeshi: Holy shit, JM! Chemistry class was absolute complete garbage. I swear by the most sacred thing that not even if I shit, or even if I were to be reborn, I'm going to learn that damn periodic table. What the fuck do I need to know the molecular weight of strontium for if the only thing I plan to synthesize in my life is cold beer on weekends?

Mei: Oh, Takeshi, you're so stupid!

>The blue-haired girl let out a melodious giggle, narrowing her eyes with tenderness as her gigantic breasts bounced slightly against the boy's arm due to the spasm of laughter. Immediately after, she subtly rose onto her tiptoes to plant a loud and affectionate kiss on his cheek. Takeshi, however, was so utterly used to receiving those constant displays of affection and adoration that he didn't even flinch; he continued staring fixedly at Jhon, adjusting his cap with one hand while adopting a much more serious and confidential tone of voice.

Takeshi: Listen well, brother. I heard you're thinking about joining that bullshit role-playing club. Don't go to that shit, I'm telling you seriously and for your own good. Haven't you heard the rumors floating around about the president, that one Kinoko Ichinose? The nasty tongues in the second-floor hallways say that girl is fucking crazy. Last month they found her locked inside an abandoned locker at seven at night, completely in the dark, hugging a Kamasutra, screaming that the janitor was a cave troll who wanted to steal her power gems. She's completely nuts, JM, she's a dangerous freak who's going to give you the creeps.

Mei: It's totally true, Jhon-kun... A friend who's on the discipline committee told me that girl smells weird, like rancid fried food and confinement, and that sometimes she starts whispering dirty things to the dice when she thinks no one is watching. How disgusting, she's a hopeless weirdo.
Takeshi: See? We're confirming it for you. Forget those freaks and come with us instead. Today's plan is fucking awesome: we're heading straight to the cinema to see that Backrooms movie they just released, and after we're gonna stuff ourselves with food at the Chinese buffet on the corner until they have to carry us out.

>Jhon didn't even have time to process the invitation. At that exact moment, Mei leaned in towards Takeshi's ear, breaking the distance to whisper something in his low voice. Miller couldn't hear a single word of what the blue-haired girl was saying to his friend, but his field of vision was inevitably hijacked by the proximity of her attributes. Due to Mei's ragged breathing and murmurs, those two immense and colossal masses trembled subtly but rhythmically, rising and falling with a hypnotic heaviness that revealed the young woman's absolute lack of shame.

>Takeshi Smirnov's eyes popped wide open upon hearing the whisper, and a smile loaded with absolute and malicious perversion formed on his lips. Without the slightest hint of shame or chivalry, Takeshi lowered his right hand with speed and planted his entire palm on his girlfriend's ass, giving her a firm, shameless, and possessive squeeze. Mei, far from being offended or pulling away, let out a small, stifled moan that echoed softly in the classroom, arching her back as her gigantic breasts shook violently again upon contact. Takeshi let out a dirty laugh and looked at Jhon with complicity loaded with mockery.

Takeshi: You know what, Miller? Thinking about it... better cancel the cinema thing. Forget what I told you. Go to your little idiots' club or just head straight home to jerk off properly, because the two of us are going to the
>Mei's farewell had been delivered in a falsely sweet little voice, but as she turned to follow Takeshi, she made sure to cast a fleeting, disdainful glance at Jhon—a gesture loaded with a thinly veiled disgust that Miller picked up on perfectly. The moment they crossed the threshold into the lounge, the girl began muttering complaints, criticizing Jhon's presence or attitude, but Takeshi didn't let her finish. The boy grabbed her firmly by the nape, slammed her against the hallway wall, and shut her up with a deep, wet French kiss, all while his hands climbed back up to massage and squeeze with shameless audacity the enormous tits of the blue-haired girl, visible to anyone passing by. That public display wasn't just a show of affection; it was an obscene exhibition, a subtle and cruel way of rubbing in Jhon's face that they were a real couple and that he, in contrast, had absolutely no one in this entire world.

>The scene inside the classroom only made things worse for the blonde. It seemed as if the entire universe had conspired that afternoon to rub his absolute, pathetic singlehood in his face. The first-year classroom had turned into a hormonal battlefield where surviving couples were busy making out or whispering to each other with that cloying, sickly-sweet sentimentality typical of high school sweethearts. In one corner, two guys were hugging while sharing a single earphone; near the window, a pair of girls giggled quietly while one drew the other's lips with excessive closeness.

>Even if Jhon shifted his gaze toward the darkest corner in the back, the dose of reality was crushing. There she was—the girl who had rejected him so brutally just a week ago. Back then, she had given him the pathetic excuse that her parents were extremely strict, that they'd scold her if she got distracted, and that she had absolutely no permission to have a boyfriend or go out with guys because of her grades. Yet, there she was now, backed up against the cleaning locker next to a skinny second-year guy. They weren't making out, but the way she stared at him fixedly, with dilated pupils, accelerated breathing, and a devotion almost carnal, made it clear she wanted to suck him right there, regardless of the place or the witnesses. The lie was exposed in the most painful way possible.

>Jhon Miller, feeling the dead weight of his utter lack of luck with women. The murmur of wet kisses, the conspiratorial giggles, and the brushing of foreign uniforms filled the space. Only two very clear paths remained before him: walk with his head down toward the abandoned classroom behind the gym to surrender his dignity to the hyperactive and dangerous Kinoko Ichinose in her Absolute Role-Playing Club, or return to the solitude of his room to stare at the ceiling and confirm that, in real life, his destiny was to be a spectator to everyone else's happiness.
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>>10382
>The shrill echo of Kamome High School's bell reverberated through the concrete hallways, marking the end of yet another monotonous school day.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>Amid this youthful chaos strode the 27-year-old teacher whom the entire faculty, with a mix of pity and silent disdain, simply referred to as "the fat guy." The accumulated heat from the classroom and the weight of his own body made every step toward the staff room feel like penance. Students passed by his side instinctively sidestepping him, as if he were an inanimate obstacle on the map of their daily routine.

>As he pushed open the heavy wooden door to the staff room, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The outside noise was buried beneath a thick silence, broken only by the dripping of the coffee machine and the rustling of exam papers that a few lingering teachers lazily corrected. The air in here smelled of cheap coffee, old paper, and the subtle bitterness of administrative fatigue. Most desks were empty, but at the back, near the windows overlooking the backyard, two peculiar figures could be seen engaged in a hushed conversation.

>The first was Katsuro Tanaka, a man barely reaching 1.59 meters tall. With messy hair, thick-rimmed glasses accentuating his perpetually wide eyes, and a grayish suit that looked two sizes too big, Tanaka nervously clutched his blue tie while gesturing frantically. Beside him, standing in almost comical contrast, loomed Sia Baya, an imposing teacher originally from the Central African Republic. Sia was exceptionally tall, with exotic beauty and extremely generous physical attributes. Her short, platinum-white hair and thin-rimmed round glasses radiated a blend of elegance and military severity—a comprehensible armor for someone who had fled the horrors of war in her homeland.

>Noticing the fat teacher's entrance, Tanaka halted his speech mid-sentence and raised a bony hand, waving it through the air with somewhat forced enthusiasm, beckoning him closer. A stupid, complacent smile spread across his face—the kind he often wore to hide his eternal cowardice.

Tanaka: Ah, colleague! Come in, come in, don't just stand there like an old piece of furniture.

Sia: Good afternoon.

Tanaka: We were discussing Professor Baya's absolutely revolutionary theory. She claims, with all the scientific reason in the world, that the only real way to combat our great nation's demographic collapse is by pouring stimulating hormones directly into the school's drinking water system. Imagine it! Japan's birth rate will be saved thanks to Kamome High School! It's a flawless, perfect plan!
Sia: Anyway. How was your class today, Professor? I hope your students showed more interest in your subject than you do in your personal hygiene.

>Teacher Baya delivered those words with such icy, pristine politeness that it was impossible to tell whether it was a cruel mockery or a genuine expression of social concern.

Sia: Will you tell him yourself, Tanaka-san, or must I proceed with the direct disciplinary warning protocol?

Tanaka: Oh! Uh... well, I... of course! Yes, naturally, I'll handle delivering the message with the proper... pedagogical delicacy. Heh, heh...

>The little teacher scratched the back of his neck with obvious discomfort, letting out a nervous chuckle as his bulging eyes darted from side to side, avoiding direct eye contact with the fat professor. He adjusted his glasses with a trembling finger and began spinning slowly in place, searching for words that wouldn't sound offensive.

Tanaka: You see... my esteemed and... robust colleague. In academic life, just as in the physical laws governing our universe, there are certain molecular proximity limits that must be respected to prevent particle collisions. What I'm trying to say is that... educators of our caliber, especially those who possess a certain... let's say, advanced maturity and respectable body volume, must maintain a prudent, almost astronomical distance from the younger celestial bodies among our students. Specifically those students whose physical characteristics... have not yet completed their standard biological development cycle—

Sia: Enough, Tanaka. Your rambling is as useless as your history lessons.

>The African teacher stepped forward, crossing her imposing arms over her ample chest. Her shadow seemed to completely engulf the frightened Tanaka, and her stern gaze locked directly onto the fat professor's pupils with the force of a military verdict.

Sia: I'll be direct because I don't have time to dress up depravity. You've been formally reported for inappropriate behavior three times this week. I don't care what twisted fantasies cloud your mind or what kind of sick fetishes you indulge in the privacy of your home, but you must stop immediately. Second-year student Sazayama swears she saw you in the locker rooms nibbling on her freshly worn gym uniform. Yes, you heard correctly: nibbling on sweaty clothes.
Tanaka: Certainly unhygienic behavior, not to mention morally questionable!

Sia: Silence, Tanaka. The point is that the faculty board and I have already buried that report under a mountain of paperwork so it never reaches the principal's ears or the ministry's. We're not doing this out of sympathy for you, but because this institution depends on government funding and we can't afford a sex-related scandal. We've already had enough trouble covering up last month's third-year student suicide to keep Kamome's reputation clean—let alone have the press now digging into the unchecked lust of a twenty-seven-year-old teacher who looks fifty. I'm asking you in the most formal way possible: restrain yourself.

>Before the tension in the corner of the room could dissolve, the heavy entrance door burst open with a sharp crash that made the metal lockers vibrate. The air in the room instantly grew dense.

>Through the doorway stepped a colossal silhouette that blocked out the light from the hallway. It was Genzuro Kuragane, principal of Kamome High School. A man nearing two meters tall, with absurdly developed musculature that made the seams of his dark gray formal suit look ready to burst with every movement of his shoulders. His face, carved with deep, grotesque scars from past battles—evoking more the image of a yakuza boss than an educator—wore a permanent sneer. With slow, heavy steps that made the wooden floorboards tremble beneath his Italian shoes, the principal advanced into the room, casting a gigantic shadow that engulfed the three teachers.

Kuragane: "Would someone care to explain what kind of henhouse you're running here? I can hear your squawking from my office. I hope you're not wasting the institution's time with pointless conspiracies."

>Tanaka, upon seeing Kuragane's imposing figure, immediately shrank his shoulders, lowering his head in obvious terror as his knees began to visibly tremble. Sia, in contrast, maintained her composure with enviable coldness, adjusting her glasses with a slow, deliberate motion of her hand.

Sia: Not at all, Director Kuragane. I was merely explaining to this teacher here the proper methodology for reprimanding students suspected of spying in the girls' changing rooms. A simple exchange of internal disciplinary techniques.
Kuragane let out a harsh, gruff snort, completely ignoring the African teacher's explanation. His eyes, cold and piercing behind his thin reading glasses, locked directly onto the sloppy, obese figure of the fat teacher. He approached the coffee machine table with deliberate slowness, pouring himself a cup of black coffee without breaking eye contact with his subordinate. The clinking of the spoon against porcelain echoed like a death knell in the silent room.

Kuragane: I see. Though I seriously doubt our... 'distinguished' colleague here is the most suitable person to teach morality or discipline. Just look at yourself. You're pathetic. It's a miracle the buttons on your shirt are still holding under the tremendous pressure of your own personal sloth. Sometimes I wonder how the education system allows individuals with such a complete lack of self-respect to be in charge of shaping the minds of the future. You're the living embodiment of failure, a loser who can't even maintain the basic dignity of an adult.
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>>10385
>The monotonous and unbearable screech of chalk against the green blackboard of Kamome High School finally pronounced the sentence of liberation for the souls trapped in the second-year classroom. The wall clock, which seemed to advance at the speed of a snail with rheumatism, struck three in the afternoon. An electronic and shrill buzz cut through the hallways: the end-of-class bell.

>The classroom instantly turned into a boiling cauldron of murmurs, muffled laughter, and the dragging of heavy wooden desks against the worn linoleum floor. Some students, eager to savor the freedom of the Osaka twilight, threw their notebooks into their backpacks with a nearly poetic disorder, while loudly planning their visits to arcade halls or mandatory stops for a bowl of ramen. Others, calmer, gathered in the corners to gossip about mock exams or the latest absurd social media trend.

>Right next to Bibi's desk was the corner of her only and faithful confidante in that inhospitable school ecosystem. A small silhouette, noticeably shorter than the girl in the witch hat, remained seated with a posture that screamed accumulated exhaustion. It was a girl of undeniable aristocratic refinement. Her hair, a deep royal blue falling in two perfectly groomed pigtails, was adorned with subtle strands of a much lighter blue that framed a pale face and reddish eyes that dripped with profound apathy for the outside world.

>Her name was Hotaru, though in school records her surname appeared simply with a solitary and enigmatic letter: L. Hotaru L. A secret known to all that the young woman preferred to bury seven feet deep; that foreign surname belonged to her father, an English noble of golden birth and obscene wealth who had left her behind as the fruit of an illegitimate relationship. For Hotaru, being a "bastard" in the twenty-first century was not a title of nobility, but a mark of contempt she preferred to hide to have absolutely nothing to do with the man who was never there.

>At that moment, Hotaru held a small cardboard pear juice container in her hands, sipping through the plastic straw with a dull noise that revealed the drink was in its last drops. After a prolonged and dense silence, where only the annoying vacuum of the carton being sucked could be heard, the blue-haired girl lowered the container, sighed with a weariness that seemed to take years off her life, and fixed her reddish gaze on the girl dressed like a medieval fantasy witch.
Hotaru: I can't believe it. Honestly... I'm still trying to process how it's physically possible that you dragged me into this. A role-playing club? Seriously? I feel my IQ drop three points every second I think about that chick. Kinoko Ichinose is completely unhinged. The other day I saw her running around the backyard screaming that she'd detected a space-time anomaly near the gym lockers. The student council's gossip mill says she's a first-class pervert, and well, the wildest rumors claim she's a lesbian... although, honestly, I think she's pansexual. And no, I don't mean that in the sense that she'd be capable of proposing marriage to a damn meronpan.

>The blue-haired girl shifted her gaze toward the classroom ceiling.

Hotaru: But I guess there's no turning back now. If I don't go with you to that damn club, you'll be all alone in this hellhole called Kamome High. And I'm not letting you become social lunch for these idiots. Someone has to be the voice of reason, or at least the one with a supply of painkillers when we get migraines from listening to that hyperactive president's screaming.

>However, the fragile bubble of tranquility between the two friends didn't last long before exploding in the most crude and unpleasant way possible. Just a few meters from their desks, right near the exit door, stood two of the most popular and loud girls in the class, belonging to the boisterous gyaru subculture of the high school. Their shrill, piercing laughter cut through the air like dull knives.

>The first of them, Reika, was a girl with brown hair tied up in a flashy high bun. Beside her, Chiyo, a gyaru with notably tanned skin and platinum blonde hair in two short pigtails, winked at the front camera of her phone while flashing a peace sign with her fingers adorned with kilometer-long pink nails. They were live-streaming to their TikTok account and had absolutely no intention of being discreet. In fact, the smartphone camera lens was shamelessly pointed directly at Bibi and Hotaru's desk.

Reika: Oh no, guys, look at this! Kamome's fauna is super exotic today! We've got the village witch ready to cast an eternal virginity spell with her ridiculous little hat. Like, does she really think she's at an anime convention? It's so childish, it gives me death-by-cringe.

Chiyo: Wait, wait, Reika, don't forget the mini-pet she has next to her! The bitch! Look at her, guys, she's so flat she looks like a Showa-era ironing board. Are you sure she eats anything besides that rancid pear juice? She looks like she's got bad bulimia, all malnourished and ugly. She smells like dampness from here... I bet her foreign dad abandoned her in this country because he was ashamed to have such a deformed and head-deformed daughter! Did you know she cuts her arms because no one loves her?!

>The destructive comments and the laughter from their live-stream chat seemed to feed the egos of the two gyarus, who continued mocking without any mercy.
>Hotaru, hearing the poisonous words that struck directly at her deepest insecurities, froze completely. Her reddish eyes flew wide open, losing the little brightness they had left. A wave of humiliation dyed her cheeks a pale red, not of anger, but of pure shame and pain. Desperately trying to act as if she hadn't heard the cruel mockery from social media, the small blue-haired girl clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white.

>As she tried to hastily adjust her backpack to flee the situation, the abrupt movement caused the loose sleeves of her white jacket to slide back slightly, revealing for a fraction of a second the skin of her wrists. There, on the pale epidermis, were drawn multiple horizontal marks, reddish lines and poorly healed scars that betrayed a silent and private torment. Realizing her slip-up, Hotaru yanked the sleeves of her uniform with desperate speed, covering the cut marks while a drop of cold sweat ran down her temple.

Hotaru: Let's go... please, Bibi. We should head to the club room now. It makes no sense to stay here, serving as free entertainment for the circus of those two idiots...

>The voice of the blue-haired girl, usually sarcastic and cutting, broke noticeably as she spoke the last words. Her shoulders trembled slightly and her eyes grew moist, forcing herself to blink rapidly to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow down her cheeks. The weight of her socio-emotional problems, a burden Bibi knew all too well due to the closeness they had built, seemed to crush her at that very moment under the mocking gaze of the digital spectators. Hotaru grabbed her belongings chaotically, clutching her bag as if it were a protective shield, waiting for her friend to finish getting ready to run away from that calvary.

>It was at that moment of maximum tension when an elegant and authoritative shadow physically interposed itself between the two vulnerable students and the mocking gyarus.

>Miss Natalia Cannobio, the teacher of Uruguayan origin, stood in the middle of the classroom with her arms crossed over her impeccable dark brown suit, which contrasted with her long, straight hair of a striking pastel pink tone. Her light blue eyes, usually serious but understanding, sparkled with a mix of professional annoyance and absolute determination.

Natalia: Alright, girls. It seems the class schedule has already ended, which means the time to use the facilities for your ridiculous internet shows has also expired. If you don't turn off that phone right this second and clear out of the classroom, I swear on my grandmother that I will spend half of my salary this month to hire a bot farm from Eastern Europe to massively report your TikTok accounts for systematic harassment until they take them down forever.
>The gyarus paled in unison. The threat of losing their profiles was equivalent to a social death sentence. Without uttering a single word of rebuttal, Reika tucked the phone into her pocket with trembling hands while Chiyo let out a suppressed squeal of indignation. Both grabbed their designer backpacks and hurried out of the classroom, their heels clicking rapidly down the outer hallway until their presence vanished completely.

>Professor Natalia sighed deeply but quickly recomposed her professional posture and turned toward the two girls remaining in the classroom. Her gaze softened as she observed Hotaru's state of nervousness.

Natalia: Well... you can go now, girls. Do it very carefully, please. The truth is, this school is falling apart more and more when it comes to respect and empathy, but... what can we do? It's the only institution in all of Osaka that allows gaijins to work and study decently without putting so many bureaucratic hurdles in our way. I just ask you to endure one more year, okay?

>The teacher offered a nostalgic and somewhat tired smile, arranging the last corrected exams into her leather briefcase before giving them one last look of sincere support.

Natalia: Anyway, don't let people like that ruin your afternoon. Remember that if you ever have a really serious problem or need to talk to someone who isn't a stiff teacher, you can come find me in the teachers' room with total confidence. My door is always open to you. Have a good afternoon.

>The teacher gave a slight bow of her head before turning around and continuing to organize her desk, signaling that they were free to leave and that the path to the club room was finally cleared of bullying.

>Hotaru, for her part, immediately adopted a defensive and distant attitude. She crossed her arms, averted her gaze toward the classroom window, and began humming an inaudible melody, shamelessly feigning madness as if Teacher Natalia's words had not been directed at her in the slightest. Her immense difficulty in opening up to others forced her to don that mask of cold indifference, protecting herself from the outside world in the only way she knew how.

>The hallway leading to the abandoned classroom behind Kamome High School's gymnasium awaited them. A path covered in dry leaves, with the afternoon sun tinting the walls an almost mystical orange, where the Absolute Roleplay Club for Metaverse Transcendence waited to give them an escape route from all their realities.
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Kamome Preparatory School: "Your home away from home, your refuge for education."
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>>10387
>Takahara

>There he was, a behemoth of remarkable size for the Japanese standard, but we weren't talking about some average 15-year-old high school student from a 90s anime or manga. Instead of being a tower of muscles the size of a bear, Takahara was a tower of fat, a huge cylinder of dense adipose tissue more akin to a Gigantopithecus, almost a perfect sphere thanks to his stellar 1.80m height despite his somewhat hunched posture, all thanks to his foreign genes that in some alternate reality would have made him a wrestler who could have given Rey Mysterio a run for his money. Instead, he was a 135kg wall who knew all the Pokémon by heart.
>After class ended, he took a moment to take off his glasses and clean them with his limited edition Tokyo Mew Mew handkerchief, which he had won at an auction after spending his entire summer job savings from last year.
>He remained adjacent yet nonchalant to the school commotion around him, keeping to his own internal temple of imagination and fiction.
>After finishing cleaning his glasses, he went through his backpack, checking if he should add a new pin or a new keychain to his already vast collection of pure quality moe series adorning his school uniform, until the sudden appearance of a certain XX-chromosome individual.
>The shake of his desk, which was also partially buried in his wide belly, caused the vibrational wave to spread across his belly like ripples in a calm pond after throwing a rock to disturb said peace.

First of all, good afternoon, miss.

>He was already aware of Ichinose's reputation despite having come to this school relatively recently; however, he had kept feeling the waters and gathering info until he could deliver the verdict. Indeed, this foid was one of his own. That's why he signed up for the club.

Asking a man if he's ready is like asking a dog if he's going to poop in the garden or a Lich if he's going to make a phylactery before dying.

>He stood up, the small chair for his wide and greasy posterior getting stuck between the two hills adorning the exit of his digestive system, forcing him to shake it off to make it fall.
In other words, yes, I'm ready, Kinono-san, or Ms. President, as you prefer.

>They invade her personal space, which finally triggers her greasy fat-guy attitude from spending too much time grinding gachas; he started sweating like a pig, could even say he was sweating lard given how fat he was, his smell of chips and fries clashing with Kinono's caffeine stench, creating a swirl of geeky odor that threatened to collapse in on itself and fracture this fragile, normie-ridden reality.

I see, hehe.

>He did the anime move of making his glasses shine; since he went nearsighted from too much computer time, he'd always been happy to use them for these kinds of gestures.

If that's the case, I'd be more than happy to be a direct collaborator in steering this little ship we call 'Club'; we can't let the newbies pick up bad habits. And I see you speak my language... hehe, even if I'm an unconditional 2D lover, I have no qualms about observing some 3D GL action up close if you get my drift, Kinoko-san. Maybe we could tell them they need to, um, act out a scene on their own to see the true connection and intimacy of their characters.

>As we said, they were on the same frequency of autistic roleplay.

>Takahara was actively ignorant of the obvious oppressive and judgmental aura of the others toward his new dice partner; he was a victim too, but it didn't matter—he was cringe, yet free from the moral chains of normies who can't enjoy life without multiple masks of irony layered on top.

He took the comment without offense, my friend; you're not really my type either, so keep going, we'll meet at the agreed-upon gathering spot.

>The blow to his back also rippled through his soft fat, making him shake himself to adjust while he put on his backpack and tightened the straps.

>All these normies feared his elevated power level and didn't even dare to confront him directly; what illusions, sheep without will.

Today will be a fantabulous day, yum.

>He walked toward the indicated abandoned classroom, his enormous mass accompanying him with every step through this institution.
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10394 es
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>>10386 >>10375
>Name and/or nickname:
Uh... "Rolero" is fine.
>Exact age:
15 years, 7 months, and 26 days approximately... I didn't count the minutes, are they necessary for the form?
>School grade:
First year.
>Gender or Sex:
Combat Helicopter.
>Birthday:
November 19, 2010, not my sign.
>Nationality:
Russian-Japanese very cliché. My family is of Russian origin. My grandparents arrived in Japan during the 80s and since then the whole family has lived here.
>Roleplay experience:
I've only roleplayed on anonymous internet forums (lying about my age), the kind that are text-only. I really have almost no, or directly zero, experience with real and normal roleplay. I've never played a tabletop campaign.
>Favorite setting:
I like roles set in the Victorian Era, "Current" but psychological/horror, or some dark fantasy, though currently that's very burned out. But in general I like roles, all settings (except those based on existing things, like anime and that)... Oh, and I also like those Empress and noble roles, though I've never roleplayed any.
>Dice type:
My favorite die is the 1d9, I always carry one with me. 1d9 = 6
>Character style:
I like making characters that are totally contrary to what is expected in the plot's power level. Or directly characters that are too simple, without spark. Like for example, if everyone makes an all-powerful hero with a thousand victories, I make a peasant with a shovel. It's a good way to narratively justify my bad dice rolls, and it's fun.
>Current relationship status:
I didn't understand this part, how do I feel? Normal. "Civil status"? Single. If the question was something else, sorry.
>Fetish or vice:
"Fetish"? I like kisses and those cheesy things... I don't know if that counts as a fetish. . "Vice"? I like creating roleplay systems, worlds, and those things, but I never use them, it's just for the love of the game.
>Favorite dinosaur:
The Dilophosaurus... or the Suchomimus? I'm more of a Carboniferous type.
>Ideal historical era:
Late Paleolithic or Chalcolithic.
>Food for roleplaying:
Homemade sandwiches or sweet buns.
>Biggest absurd fear:
When I was little I was terrified of a toy cake, which was like an animatronic. Currently I don't know, maybe answering a rhetorical question as if it were literal and no one correcting me for several months.
>The weirdest thing you've eaten just out of pure laziness to cook:
Cold white rice with soy sauce and tuna, straight from the pot.
>Your favorite Pokémon:
Forretress.
>Your definitive anime opening:
I don't usually listen to any anime openings; I skip them directly.
>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
The CIA invents exaggerated conspiracies to create a smokescreen, so that the gentiles ignore the real ones.
>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
I'd go to the forest.
>If you were a piece of furniture, which one would you be and why?:
A metal filing cabinet. It protects important information, takes up little space, and normally no one notices it until they need something.
>Rate your current mental health from 1 to 10:
I need clarification before answering. Does 10 mean "very good mental health" or "very severe mental health problems"? The scale completely changes the result.

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
Most people think a technology is better when it requires less human effort. When a computer understands the user, when an operating system adapts to their habits, when an AI anticipates what they want before they ask, when an interface eliminates any friction between person and machine.

Well, I think that's huge stupidity.

The modern obsession with making technology easier, personalized, and accessible is destroying what made technology an expression of humanity. The difficulty, the discipline, and the direct connection between the creator's mind and the work created. Thanks to the normalization of technology in the market, made for the cattle of the masses, it has generated a confusion between comfort and perfection. An operating system full of layers, assistants, automatic configurations, and abstractions seems more advanced than a simple one. An AI with billions of "if" parameters seems more impressive than a small program written with transparent logic. But complexity isn't always intelligence. It's just accumulated slop, fat in the arteries, like endless lines of "if" in programming, when they only hinder like tangled wiring. Often, complexity is simply an accumulation of layers created to hide a lack of understanding.
"An idiot admires complexity, a genius admires simplicity."

The true masterpiece is not the one that does everything for you. It is the one that reveals a fundamental truth through the minimum possible number of elements. The purest technology is not the one that removes the human from the process. It is the one that forces the human to be present. That is why something seemingly limited can be infinitely deeper than something seemingly powerful. A small chess program (Atari 2600 Chess) can have more soul than a modern AI capable of writing novels, creating images, and answering any question. Not because it is technically superior, but because behind that small creation there is a human mind facing the world directly. Every decision, every line, every limitation represents the creator's intent.

The machine does not try to replace the human. It is an extension of the human soul.

Modern technology, on the other hand, is increasingly focused on separating us from creation. We no longer want to understand the tools, we just want to consume results. We no longer want to build, we just want to select options. We no longer want to master a machine, we just want the machine to know us. And when a technology begins to know you better than you know the technology, something is lost. Personalization seems like freedom, but often it is a more sophisticated form of imprisonment. A system that adapts completely to you stops challenging you. An environment that never contradicts you stops teaching you. A machine designed to avoid any frustration ends up avoiding any growth as well.

Humanity always advanced by facing the difficult. The musician who masters an instrument does not do so because the instrument adapts to them. The artist does not improve because the painting completes their ideas automatically. The programmer does not learn because a tool removes all their problems. Difficulty is the space where transformation occurs. Eliminating all difficulty is eliminating the path. That is why I consider the current direction of technology, especially with increasingly intuitive interfaces and intelligent systems that try to anticipate every need, to be a kind of decay disguised as progress.
The internet also represents this contradiction. It seems to have connected the world, yet at the same time created a humanity permanently distracted, dependent on systems that decide what we see, what we think, and what we desire. Infinite information does not necessarily produce wisdom. Sometimes it only produces infinite noise. Technology should be a tool to elevate human consciousness, not a way to anesthetize it. That is why there is a huge difference between a machine created as a reflection of the human mind and a machine generated to replace the human mind. The first is art, the second is dependency.

The highest technology should not be that where the human disappears behind layers of automation, but rather that where extreme simplicity reveals the infinite complexity of the one who created it. A simple computer, a clear architecture, a pure language, a small but perfectly understood program. Because when everything is simplified for us, we stop asking how the world works. And a humanity that stops asking how the world works ends up losing the capacity to create a new one. That is why the true pinnacle of technology is not building machines that think for us. It is building tools so pure that they allow our own mind, our creativity, and our essence to express themselves without intermediaries.

And thus the way to express a connection between the mind, creation, and something superior to us. True technology does not separate us from the divine; when it is born from simplicity, intention, and deep understanding, it can become a mirror where the soul recognizes the creator.
.....
..
Sorry, I wrote too much.
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>>10394
>The metallic screech of the Kamome High School bell echoed through the hallways with a dull vibration that seemed to shake the dust accumulated in the corners of the first-year classroom. It was a dry sound, devoid of any joy, marking the end of another day of academic torture. Without losing a single second, the teacher in charge of the last session stacked his folders with mechanical movements, shoved his chalk into his pocket with an apathy bordering on the pathological, and crossed the threshold of the back door without deigning to look back even once, as if the mere act of breathing the same air as his students took years off his life. Immediately, the classroom turned into a small chaotic ecosystem. The murmur of conversations began to rise; some students stretched lazily over their desks, others stuffed their notebooks in a hurry while planning to go to the karaoke at the station or debating which convenience store had the best steamed buns this season. It was the natural flow of youth, a river of laughter, shared secrets, and mundane plans.

>However, amidst that ordinary bustle, there existed an absolute void. In a secluded corner, near the windows overlooking the inner hallway, the silver-haired girl. For the rest of the class, she simply did not exist. It was not a matter of shyness or active exclusion; it was something much deeper and terrifying: total invisibility. Students passed by her side as if walking through fog. In fact, a group of girls between the desks talking noisily about a TV show; one of them, stepping back to laugh at a joke, planted her heavy shoe directly on the foot of the young woman with white hair. The girl didn't even look down, didn't apologize, and didn't realize she had made contact with a human being. She continued on her way as if she had stepped on a slightly loose tile. In this school ecosystem, the silver-haired student occupied no rung; she was neither prey nor predator, but an invisible anomaly that the rest of the world ignored so as not to break the illusion of their own reality.

>The air in the classroom, thick with the afternoon heat, began to transform. A nauseating and damp smell, a repulsive mixture of stagnant water, cheap disinfectant, and dirty slang that hadn't been rinsed for weeks, began to seep in through the open window overlooking the hallway. The source of that stench did not take long to materialize. Turning his gaze slightly toward the glass, one could see a wide and deformed silhouette. It was the high school janitor, a man whose name was Katsuro Mura. Katsuro was not a tall man, but his immense and flabby body gave him an overwhelming presence that seemed to occupy the entire space of the window frame. His head, almost completely bald except for a few greasy strands of dark hair that sprouted in a disordered way on the crown, shone under the fluorescent light. His face was a nightmare of disproportionate features: sagging cheeks covered in cold sweat and a semi-open mouth revealing a neglected and yellowish dentition, from which a constant thread of saliva dripped, moistening the corners of his lips.
>At that moment, he held in his chubby hands with blackened nails a copy of the novel "Diary of a Mad Old Man" by Jun'ichiro Tanizaki. Unlike the rest of the school, the janitor's eyes did not ignore the presence of the silver-haired girl. On the contrary, his dilated pupils were fixed on her with a sickening intensity. The man lowered the book, revealing his wet, trembling smile, and stuck his head out through the window frame, invading the classroom space with his fetid breath.

Katsuro: Good afternoon, pretty-chan... What a blessing to find you here all alone. You know, I've been watching you from the outside courtyard... and let me tell you, you look especially beautiful today. Your hair shines like silver under this afternoon sun, and that scent... oh yes, it has a wonderful aroma, like fresh flowers just cut. It's a shame that no one in this filthy classroom has the eyes to appreciate a pure jewel like you.

>The janitor's voice was a pasty, sibilant whisper that provoked an inevitable sensation of revulsion in the pit of the stomach. The fat man leaned in even more, pressing his enormous belly against the window sill, almost squeezing into the classroom in an attempt to shorten the physical distance.

Katsuro: I know everything about you, my little flower. I know that no one in this classroom speaks to you, I know that in this school they treat you like a ghost... And I would dare to say that things aren't much different in your own home, right? No one listens to you, no one takes care of you, no one notices if you laugh or cry. But I do. I see your worth. That's why I've come to make you a very serious proposal, an invitation to save you from this misery. I've saved a lot of money over the years of my service in this damned place... Let's escape together. Let's get far away from here. I would love for you to be my wife, my most intimate confidante... and my little obedient slave. In return, I will give you a wonderful life. We will travel all over the world, I will buy you beautiful dresses, and I will give you all the attention those fools have denied you.

>Katsuro's tone, which had pretended to be a romantic and desperate invitation, suddenly took on a gloomy and icy shade.
Katsuro: Although, of course... you can always say no. But let me warn you, my sweet girl. The principal of this high school is my childhood friend. I've covered up an untold number of unpleasant scandals involving students and committee funds... and in return, he always covers up mine. If you decide to reject my generous offer and cause a scene, no one will believe you. Moreover, think carefully... you are invisible here. If one day you decide not to come home, if you suddenly disappear off the map... no one would miss you, no one would ask difficult questions. You could end up in a mass grave, or perhaps... perhaps you could spend the rest of your days in the ventilation system of my own basement, serving as my private toy without the outside world ever suspecting your whereabouts. So, what do you say?

>The aura emanating from Katsuro was dense, suffocating, and charged with a nightmare-like malevolence that seemed to freeze the air around the girl's desk. However, before the janitor could stretch one of his sweaty hands into the classroom, a thick, grayish cloud of cigarette smoke was blown forcefully directly onto his face. Katsuro began to cough violently, waving his arms in the air to disperse the nicotine fog as his lecherous expression transformed into a grimace of deep anger. When he lifted his gaze with furrowed brows, he found himself facing the silhouette of a teacher who had approached without making the slightest sound.

>It was Hidetoshi Ishii. Ishii wore an impeccable dark suit that contrasted with his lanky yet imposing posture. His straight black hair was partially tied up in a small, neat bun at the back of his head, with a few strands falling over his forehead. His blue eyes, dull and devoid of any trace of warmth, watched the scene with absolute indifference. He held a lit cigarette between his thin fingers, from which rose a constant thread of smoke.

Katsuro: Cough, cough! Damn it! You know perfectly well that smoking inside school facilities is strictly prohibited, Hidetoshi-sensei! I could report you to the board right now!

>Ishii took another slow drag from his cigarette, looking at the janitor with the same gaze one uses to examine a bothersome insect before crushing it.

Ishii: It's also prohibited to harass students and beat fat bastards until they're unconscious in the hallway, Mura. And believe me, I care exactly the same amount about breaking both rules this evening. So shut your mouth if you don't want me to put out this cigarette on your disgusting bald head.
>Katsuro clicked his tongue in obvious frustration, stepping back out of the window, though his fists clenched with suppressed rage.

Ishii: Besides, I came looking for you for a specific reason. Someone in the third-floor men's bathroom had a severe diarrhea attack an hour ago... and they seemed quite artistic about it, using their own waste to paint shit crosses all over the walls. I suggest you go show off your brush skills right now. Move it.

>The janitor let out a huff of indignation, shot a sideways glance at the silver-haired girl with a silent promise of vengeance carved into his bulging eyes, then turned on his heel, dragging his heavy steps down the hallway while leaving behind a trail of complaints and the lingering smell of dampness.

>The teacher remained standing by the doorframe, taking one last drag from his cigarette before letting the ash fall to the classroom floor. At no point did he look directly at the silver-haired student; he kept his eyes fixed on the empty window, as if speaking to the wall or the very air of the room.

Ishii: You should head home now. Or wherever you go after class. I was able to contain that human waste this time because I happened to cross his path, but I won't be here to save your neck next time. I'm serious. Principal Kuragane has always covered for the worst scum of this high school, so keep your eyes wide open. If you can't get friends to watch your back, at least go to a store and buy a sharp cutter or some pepper spray to defend yourself. And please... do me a favor and don't think about suicide. I'm not saying this for your well-being; I care very little about your personal life. It's just that I hate with my whole soul the bureaucratic paperwork. Last week, a teacher jumped off the roof due to systematic harassment by a group of third-year students, and I had to spend three full days dealing with reports, the police, and the damn bureaucracy of her death. It was a hell of a headache. So, if things get tough, it's much simpler to kill whoever tries to hurt you before you decide to kill yourself. Have a good afternoon.

>Without adding a single more word, Ishii turned and walked away with a firm, silent stride, letting the remaining smoke from his cigarette slowly dissipate into the air of the now-empty classroom.

>The invitation from the eccentric Kinoko Ichinose still stood. It was time to make a decision: stay in the cold invisibility of the ordinary classrooms, or cross the courtyard toward the abandoned room behind the gym to claim a place in the only corner of the school where the rules of boring reality no longer held any power.
Rolero Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10397 es
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>>10375
-I see this poster, it doesn't cost anything to fill out the form to see if there's a spot-
>Name and/or nickname:
Rena, my parents call me Daughter, but if I have to invent a name, let it be Witch of the whole
>Exact age:
14 years, 3 months, 5 days, 10 hours and 30 minutes, I don't count the seconds because they'll pass one time I finish writing this
>School grade:
technically second year
>Gender or Sex
I'm a girl
>Birthday:
December 25
>Nationality:
My mother is Japanese and my father is a Latino YouTuber who travels a lot, for security I can't say his nationality and who he is, but currently I have Japanese nationality if that matters
>Roleplay experience:
0 experience, I suffer from autism and after moving I was left without friends, classes started and I need to socialize on my psychiatrist's recommendation or I could suffer a depressive attack again
>Favorite setting:
a mix of everything, like in Adventure Time
>Dice type:
is it okay if I say blue?
>Current relationship status:
curious to know if filling out this form will be worth it or not
>Fetish or vice:
eating sweets count?
>Favorite dinosaur:
do fictional ones count? Does a dragon count as a dinosaur?
>Ideal historical era:
first rule of time travel, no time travel, although the second rule is that the first rule doesn't matter, so living adventures like Dr. Who not in any era wouldn't be bad
>Food to roleplay:
I can bring Latin sweets
>Most absurd fear:
I guess it would be being useless in life and that leading me to suicide, or waking up in Mexico
>The strangest thing you've eaten just out of laziness to cook:
a milanesa sandwich with dulce de leche, it tasted good
>Favorite Pokémon:
Celebi, Lucario and Cinderace, I would have named Charizard as my favorite dinosaur, because dragon isn't, that's why I asked before
>Definitive anime opening:
Watashi ga Motenai no wa Dou Kangaetemo Omaera ga Warui
>Favorite conspiracy theory:
none, everything is possible
>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
after checking my penis I would take photos to keep them saved in case I magically turn back into myself, if not, I would get nervous, or in that case, nervous, because if it were a paranormal and rare event, but I would try to calm down and accept that now that would be my life and that I suffered an unconsented transformation, would that make me part of the trans community? I already have autism, I wouldn't like to be marginalized more socially
>Most destructive unpopular opinion:
I can't think of anything, if I say something like that it would be in the moment
>If you were a piece of furniture, which one would you be and why?:
a fan, to cool off, although I would have to move, I guess an air conditioner would be better, but do they count as furniture? Does a window count as furniture?
>Rating from 1 to 10 on your current mental health:
according to my psychiatrist I am fit for society and capable of keeping myself well, although if I have depression and autism, I guess that takes points off, if 10 is perfect, I give -3 for autism, and since depression is something stronger I give a -5, that leaves me with 2, I don't reach the 1 of perfection you seek, but I hope it counts
>"If you don't want to write all that... Just fill out the basics... Je..."
I already filled it all out, I hope I get in, if not, possibly in a few months I'll cause a shooting if I don't get friends, and I'll remember their faces for refusing to have social interaction, so they would be the first....it's a joke -says with no visible expression on her face-
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10398 es
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>>10397
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>The shrill, piercing ring of the bell echoed through every corner of Kamome High School, announcing with its usual listlessness the end of the school day. For the vast majority of students, that sound meant freedom, the start of an afternoon of video games, chats in the cafeteria, or the return to the warmth of their homes. However, for Rena, the world had shrunk to a claustrophobic, damp, and deeply unpleasant space. The setting of her current calvary was not a classroom bathed in the sunset's light, but the third-floor boys' bathroom, a place that seemed to have been abandoned by the cleaning service for decades. To worsen the already nauseating atmosphere, some extremely idle student with a severe digestive problem had decided to imprint their "art" on the wall tiles, drawing crude crosses with fecal matter that emitted an unbearable stench. But that grotesque detail was the least of Rena's problems at that precise moment.

>The cold, yellowish porcelain of a toilet was the only thing Rena could see up close, feeling how her face was submerged again and again in the stagnant water. Fortunately, the water did not contain fresh urine, but the grime accumulated at the bottom of the drain and the smell of cheap disinfectant mixed with ammonia were enough to make anyone gag. At the same time, a series of dry, constant impacts resonated on the sides of her body. A group of girls, dressed in school uniforms but with an attitude that reeked of juvenile delinquency, were kicking her with considerable force. They weren't looking to break her ribs or leave marks that would require immediate hospitalization; their goal was much more petty and refined: they wanted to inflict the maximum physical pain and the deepest humiliation possible. These delinquents had meticulously planned the attack, taking advantage of the precise moment when the duty teacher left in a hurry to relieve his bladder. In that vacuum of authority, they dragged Rena to this forgotten corner of the building, where they had already been having fun at her expense for quite some time, amidst laughter, spit, and derogatory comments.

>The leader of the group, a girl with a sadistic gaze who was firmly holding Rena's hair to control her movements, began to shake her violently, visibly frustrated by her victim's lack of reaction.

Delinquent 1: Hey! Are you not listening to me, you piece of idiot?! React for once! I hate that stupid expressionless face you make, it looks like you're dead inside! Cry! Beg! I want you to get on your knees and beg me to stop, you retarded bitch!
>The other delinquents surrounding the scene couldn't stop laughing, taking turns hurling hurtful insults while continuing to kick Rena's thighs and abdomen with sadistic glee. The reason for so much hatred was absurdly simple and cruel.

>Just as a new round of insults was about to begin, the screech of the metal bathroom door interrupted the violent atmosphere. A gigantic silhouette was silhouetted against the hallway light, casting a colossal shadow that covered almost the entire filthy floor. Looking up, the delinquents encountered an imposing sight: it was a girl of monstrous stature, easily reaching two meters tall. She wore extremely baggy clothes that, far from hiding her physique, gave her a rough, stocky appearance reminiscent of an elite American football player. Her shoulders were incredibly wide, and she wore a sports cap pulled down to her eyebrows that accentuated her masculine look. However, upon closer inspection of her face under the visor, some delicate and feminine features could be seen, accompanied by an involuntary blush that betrayed deep shame. Her name was Katsumi Rokuhara, a second-year student who shared hallways with them and was impossible to ignore in any classroom because her size rivaled that of an industrial refrigerator.

>The leader of the delinquents, annoyed by the interruption and trying to maintain her dominant posture despite the abyssal size difference, momentarily let go of Rena's hair and stepped forward, crossing her arms with a defiant expression.

Delinquent 1: "What the fuck do you want here?! Don't you know how to knock, freak?!"

>Katsumi visibly flinched at the shout. Despite her body worthy of a war deity, her attitude was that of a scared puppy. She timidly pressed her index fingers together, moving them nervously from side to side while slightly tilting her hips and fixing her gaze on the damp floor, completely avoiding eye contact with the aggressors.

Katsumi: "I-I... I'm sorry for interrupting. I just... came to talk to Rena..."

>The delinquents looked at each other, bewildered by the extreme shyness of such a giant. With a mix of amusement and contempt, they completely let go of Rena, allowing her body to rest momentarily against the cold bathroom floor, and proceeded to surround Katsumi like hungry hyenas.

Delinquent 2: "Well, well. So the class giant came to play the hero? Are you going to try to rescue your autistic little friend?"
Katsumi: N-No! Not at all! Please, don't misunderstand me! S-If you want, you can just continue with your business... honestly, I have no intention of interfering. It's just... well, classes are already over for today. And... we're both in the same club. I just wanted to go with her to the club room... because I'm so incredibly embarrassed to go alone...

>Katsumi's voice trembled with a mix of fear, extreme shyness, and immense social pressure. It was almost a comedic scene: an imposing human wall two meters tall shaking in terror before three delinquents who barely reached her chest. The gang leader let out a disdainful snort and spat loudly onto the bathroom tiles. After a few seconds of tense silence, where only the heavy breathing of those present and the constant dripping of a broken pipe could be heard, the delinquent glanced at her wristwatch with obvious urgency.

Delinquent 1: You got lucky this time, freak. The boss wants to see us at the park right after school and we're already running late for the meeting. But don't worry, this isn't over.

>Before leaving, the leader shot one last look of disgust at Rena and, as a cowardly farewell gesture, delivered a hard kick to her side that echoed through the damp bathroom space. The delinquents walked past Katsumi, shoving her slightly with their shoulders as they exited, though the giant barely moved a millimeter due to her massive body. The bathroom was finally plunged into a sepulchral silence, interrupted only by the distant murmurs of students leaving the school building.

>Katsumi remained completely motionless for several seconds, paralyzed by residual fear, until she finally made sure the delinquents had completely left. With slow, clumsy steps, she approached the toilet where Rena lay, crouching down slightly to be at her level, though she still looked gigantic even in that position.

Katsumi: A-Are you okay, Rena? I'm so sorry... I truly regret not doing anything to help you, but I'm terrified of people who scream... Hey, would you like to go to the roleplay club together? It's just... I'm really too ashamed to show up there alone. Besides... I'm absolutely terrified of President Kinoko...

>Katsumi paused briefly, looking around warily, as if fearing that the club president herself might materialize out of thin air through the bathroom pipes.

Katsumi: It's just... there's a terrible rumor going around in my class about her. They say that last year, during the school festival, she ran out of budget for the club and decided to sell homemade love potions that were actually water mixed with horse growth hormones she stole from the equestrian club. And when the teachers caught her, she tried to convince them that it was all part of a live role-playing game where she was playing a corrupt level-twenty alchemist... She's absolutely insane! Oh, and to top it all off, I only joined this club because... well...
>The giantess sighed bitterly, letting her shoulders slump into a posture of total defeat as an expression of profound sadness crossed her face.

Katsumi: They kicked me out of the baseball club... I had problems with their president... He tried to vio... L-Like whatever....

>Before Katsumi could continue pitying her own fate, the heavy bathroom door burst open with a metallic crash that echoed throughout the place. A man in a wrinkled janitor's uniform and an expression of pure madness on his face made his triumphant entrance. He held a worn-out mop in one hand and a bucket of soapy water in the other. Upon observing the state of the bathroom, the water marks on the floor, and the grotesque crosses of fecal matter painted on the walls, his eyes opened so wide they seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, revealing red, pulsating veins of pure fury. His face looked like that of a serial killer ripped from a low-budget horror movie.

Janitor: What kind of satanic monstrosities have you been doing here?! Which of you two demon spawn is responsible for this artistic desecration?! Get out of my sight right now if you don't want me to force you to clean every single one of these damn crosses with the tip of your tongue! Get out of my bathroom!

>The janitor's scream was so powerful that the bathroom windows seemed to vibrate. Katsumi jumped in fright, letting out a high-pitched shriek that contrasted ridiculously with her imposing physique. Without a second thought, seized by absolute panic at the janitor's deranged gaze, she desperately looked at Rena.

Katsumi: A-Ah! Rena, please, get up quickly and let's get out of here before he murders us! I'll wait for you in the hallway!

>Without waiting for an answer and demonstrating cowardice proportional to her gigantic size, Katsumi turned around and ran out of the bathroom in a hurry, leaving behind the echo of her heavy, hurried footsteps and completely abandoning Rena to her fate on the floor. Now, the silence of the bathroom was once again interrupted only by the janitor's heavy breathing, who continued to glare at the scene with his psychotic eyes, waiting for the last obstacle in his precious bathroom to leave once and for all so he could begin his cleaning nightmare. The Absolute Roleplay Club for Metaverse Transcendence, Fantastic Escapism, and Preservation of the Sacred Art of Limitless Multiversal Simulation was waiting somewhere behind the gym, and the afternoon had barely begun for Rena.
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10399 es
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>Name and/or nickname
Seika, Ijuuin Seika. No nicknames, try to pronounce my name correctly. You can call me 'Seika-sama' if it makes you feel better.

>Exact age
17 years, 5 months. I won't bother with days and minutes.

>School year
Last year.

>Gender or Sex
Female, yes.

>Birthday
February 14th.

>Nationality
Japanese. My family has been here for generations, in case the question had a hidden meaning.

>Roleplaying experience
None official.

A long time ago I read a couple of manuals for two roleplaying systems. The first had a node tree, point distribution, and variable costs for each skill. I read it enough to understand that certain affinities had a higher entry curve than others, but better long-term return. And that most new players tended to ignore that path because the early spells weren't visually impressive. That kind of thing.

The second was completely narrative. Extensive lore, many classes, built on dimensional events that are poorly understood. I read some subclasses before deciding which character to make, which was excessive in retrospect, because its GM clearly didn't know the repercussions of all of them and didn't care beyond making fantasies he had in his head come true to supposedly form a good story that wasn't even entirely linear. So I don't know if it counts as real experience, I guess it depends on how you define experience.

>Favorite setting
Elite academy with interpersonal drama.

Roleplaying games that try to simulate romance, specifically. Not for the stories themselves, which vary greatly in quality, but for the relationship-building mechanics as a system. The way emotional intimacy is standardized into numerical variables and branching paths is a more sophisticated narrative design exercise than most admit. For tabletop RPGs I'd prefer something with more real consequences, but the question was favorite.

>Dice type
The d20. It's the standard, right?

>Character archetype
The leader. I prefer something with authority that doesn't depend on being at the forefront.

>Current relationship status
Single. Unattached. Whatever applies. No further comments.

>Fetish or vice
I practice something known as self-esteem. If that's what you're asking.

>Favorite dinosaur
Yoshi. He's super cute, green, and takes you everywhere without complaining. Or that purple one who sings with kids, Barnaby.

>Ideal historical period
Versailles under Louis XIV.

>Food for roleplaying
Almond latte. Decaffeinated, vanilla, exact temperature. Non-negotiable. The last time someone ate french fries near me in an enclosed space, it took me three days to get the smell out of my hair. I don't plan on repeating it without legal assistance.
>Absurd greatest fear
Someone reading my search history...

>Rarest thing you've eaten out of pure laziness to cook
A hard-boiled egg.

It was late, no one was home, I opened the fridge and made the most regrettable decision of my burgeoning youth. I searched online if it could be microwaved because boiling water seemed like an unnecessarily long process. The results said yes with certain precautions. I ignored the precautions. After forty seconds the egg exploded with a violence I did not expect from something so small, tiny, and insignificant. The microwave door was splattered on the inside in a way I can only describe as artistic... I spent the next twenty-five minutes cleaning every surface with paper towels while the smell expanded to such a degree that it affected my common sense and morality. I tried again correctly. Water, pot, twelve minutes of waiting standing in front of the stove watching the water boil because I could lose control of the situation again. When it was finally ready I ate it directly standing up, without salt, without a plate, at eleven forty at night, staring at the wall. It wasn't by choice, I didn't have enough emotional energy to dirty a plate after all of that. I don't talk about this normally.

>Your favorite Pokémon
Pikachu, obviously.

>Your definitive anime opening
A Little Pain. Olivia Lufkin, from Trapnest

>Your favorite conspiracy theory
Obviously the 5G one, which is one hundred percent real and verified. My holistic masseuse confirmed it for me after aligning my chakras a couple of days ago. There is a secret government organization that uses those antennas to emit low-frequency vibrations that destroy natural collagen and generate fluid retention.

>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?
Immediate panic. Hyperventilation, tunnel vision, foaming at the mouth as I process what is happening. After 20 minutes, I would recover because I am professional. And after realizing that my self-care routine was ruined, fear, despair, and desolation. Foam again. At some point around noon, emotionally stabilized or not, I would try to flirt just to see if it works differently from this side. For research.

>Your most destructive unpopular opinion
Everyone always agrees with me, so all my opinions are popular.

>If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?
A chair.

A nice chair.

>Rating from 1 to 10 your current mental health
10. My therapist says my superiority complex isn't a problem if I'm actually superior to others. Ohohoho!
Rolero Turquoise-17c950 No.10400 es
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>>10389
>JM

>The worst part of betrayal is that it always comes from a friend, one of those countless phrases Jhon saw in TikTok and YouTube Shorts videos, which, by the way, were his daily bread... lasting all day long.
>If you had to compare it, it was like showing a starving African child, whose eyes would shine like suns harassing the delicacy, a chocolate cake decorated with a couple of strawberries, whose sizes would be so colossal as to be considered real strawberries, all just to have them extinguished upon noticing how that delicacy is eaten right in their face, leaving the scraps scattered on the floor, adorned with the saliva of the one who deluded the poor soul.

("Fuck.")

>The window of his vision was more than closed, while, on the other hand, his forehead was roughly caressing the desk. His hands seemed like a reflection of the couples, together and kissing each other, a coincidence Jhon was unaware of.

("And all because of that damn form.")

>Any conclusion reached in less than a minute and without much reasoning is valid. Whether it's Mei's fault. Whether it's Takeshi's fault. Whether it's the school's fault itself. Everyone was guilty in his wretched life.

"Tch"

>The obscene act of his hands stopped, the couple separated so one of them could make a trip to hold a third, somewhat different member, one long, firm, and hard. The gossipy eyes lit up to watch it with suspicion, while the other hand, as usual, started touching this familiar one, beginning from a button on the side.
>123123123, home screen, apps, Clash Royale.

("Fuck.")

>From so much stress, Jhon no longer knew if it was his misery or if it was purely his fault that his phone data ran out.
>Throwing his gear onto the desk, the blonde reduced himself to just looking at the ceiling.

("Fuck them, they don't know, but at least I don't waste my life on women, instead I know about underrated games.")

>Declared the young man known for being a girl-needy. He stood up, took back his phone, and then, with hands in his pockets and his fake smile on his face pointing to the ground, he headed home.
>He crossed the hallways while, to forget everything, he wondered if his favorite YouTuber uploaded a video, or if the Discord server about RPGs had regained activity.

("...so a sister, huh?")

>After his last thought, Jhon Miller realized that, even if he was betrayed, he was given the useful data of the other girl, and on top of that, Mei's older sister. If she's in that roleplay club, RPGs according to the blonde, it means he can, for the first time, use his knowledge of the pure algorithm of his two main video platforms to then, somehow, conquer her.
>Touching his jaw, he even thinks if it's not necessary to make preparations, vaguely remembering something about sex in that form.

"Heh, Jhon Miller doesn't give up, things seem to be changing..."

>With his goal defined, it was just a matter of time until he reached the classroom behind the gym.
>In the end, filling out the form out of boredom bore fruit, though not in the best way. If not for the sister, the blonde would never have been interested in showing up at the club.

("Wait, do they even have computers there?")

>If it's a roleplay club, RPGs, they shouldn't see not one, but too many machines as if it were the computer lab, or maybe they'd just play on emulators from the phone.
>The more he questioned, the more complicated the idea became that an RPG game club even really existed, especially because of Kinoko Ichinose's fame.
>Nevertheless, Jhon couldn't cancel his plans halfway, it wasn't worth it.
Rolero Native Gold-d22657 No.10401 es
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>>10391
>Bibi

>Bibi was just eating some doritos and drinking a bit of peach juice, obviously her favorite that ran out so fast that she sighed heavily, to see her dear friend doubting her decisions.

“Hotaru, Hotaru, isn’t that exactly what we need in our lives? Action, adventure, the desire to live our incredible days that we have left in the academy, maybe even we can go to another planet that spatial-temporal anomaly.”

>She stands up and runs her hand over Hotaru’s shoulders in a confident hug and a big smile.

“We’ll have a good time, believe me, magic is the best thing that exists in this world.”

>She pulls out a deck of cards, always carries one with her to do tricks.

“Pick-“

>She quickly turns around upon hearing what those gyarus are saying, staying serious about what they say about herself simply lowering her eyes a bit and putting the cards away, but the moment they talk about Hotaru she jumps up with a massive angry face.

“What are you saying zo-“

>She was about to put her hand in her coat pocket, but hears her friend, which makes her stop momentarily, but seeing her friend on the verge of crying reignited the flame, she was about to do something stupid, but the foreigner stops her.

>She swallows, and lowers her gaze, stopping being so tense and then nodding.

“Yeah… Professor…”

>She grabs her hat and puts it on Hotaru’s head, if she wanted to cry a little she could use it to cover her face, after that she started fixing her things in her backpack.

“Hotaru-chan, for me you
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>>10399
>The shrill echo of Kamome High's bell reverberated through the concrete hallways like a long-awaited scream of liberation, abruptly marking the end of another monotonous class day on this sweltering afternoon. Immediately, the dense, heavy summer air filled with the chaotic bustle of hundreds of students, who, in a rush of laughter, stowed their notebooks, dragged metal chairs, and prepared to abandon the main building. The hallways, which until moments ago had looked deserted and silent, turned into a true human anthill where students from all grades converged in a tide of dark uniforms, raucous laughter, and floating murmurs.

>Amidst all this congestion, as if the universe itself had decided to place a divine spotlight on you, you stood out in a way almost insulting to the rest of mortals. Ijuuin Seika was walking. It was no secret that your very presence altered the pulse of the place. As you passed, gazes immediately diverted toward you, split between pure adoration and absolute disdain. For many first-year students, you were an unreachable deity, a magazine beauty who seemed not to belong to this earthly plane of exams and mundane homework. However, in the corners of the lockers and under the stairs, the poison of envy soon began to ooze out in the form of venomous whispers. You could hear with perfect clarity how some girls from your own grade twisted their faces as you passed, covering their mouths while spreading petty rumors about your supposed arrogance.

>You were, without a doubt, the mandatory topic of conversation throughout the high school, a polarizing figure who awakened both savage passions and silent resentments in every corner of the institute. But, despite all that white noise of whispers and indiscreet glances, there was a very specific sound you managed to isolate from the general bustle, a disturbing constant that had been accompanying you throughout your journey down that hallway which now seemed endless. It was the rhythmic and constant dragging of school shoes, thin and erratic steps that always remained at the same distance from you, clumsily mimicking among the crowd. You knew perfectly well to whom they belonged. You didn't need to turn around to recognize that scrawny silhouette sliding like a hungry shadow behind your back. Slowly, the human tide began to disperse toward the main exit, the hallways emptied with the speed of water draining through a sewer, and all that could be heard was the buzzing of cicadas in the trees outside.
>Only two people remained in that hallway: you and him. As you turned, your eyes met the lanky figure of Minato Nguyen, a third-year classmate. Minato wasn't ugly at all, but the alarming lack of muscle mass on his slumped shoulders and an evident neglect of personal hygiene ruined any potential. You felt a chill run down your spine remembering that this guy was the same disturbed kid who, during kindergarten years, enjoyed torturing small insects and lizards in the backyard without a shred of remorse. Puberty had only channeled that sickening, absolute obsession exclusively toward you. Minato lived and breathed to watch you; you knew he rummaged through your trash looking for any object you'd touched, kept folders full of blurry photos taken from street corners, and spent hours staring at you unblinkingly in the classroom, like a predator analyzing its prey. At that moment, Minato let out a deep, loud breath, a trembling gasp betraying a mix of contained excitement and psychotic nervousness, while an oddly calm, warmthless smile formed on his thin lips. He took a step toward you, closing the safety distance in a way that made you feel intense physical discomfort, fixing his dilated pupils on your face with an eerie intensity.

Minato: Seika... we're finally alone. The noise of everyone else is so annoying, you know? It interferes with the sound of your footsteps. I was thinking today is a perfect day for us. They opened a Carl's Jr. nearby, just a few blocks from high school. You should come with me. We can sit at the corner table where no one bothers us, and talk for hours. I want to watch how you eat, I want to see how your lips touch the bread and how you chew every bite. I've been planning this for so long, Seika. I've memorized the way you breathe when you're tired, and I know you'd love being with me in a closed place where the air smells only of the two of us.

>Minato took another step forward, extending a pale, trembling hand with long fingers toward your face, seeking to brush a lock of your blonde hair with a devotion bordering on the mystical. Before his fingers touched even a millimeter of your skin, a white-gloved hand appeared out of nowhere, gripping Minato's wrist with a firm, violent hold that stopped him dead in his tracks. Looking up, you found yourself face-to-face with the imposing, impeccable presence of Tadashi Yamato, a first-year student and prominent member of the high school's discipline committee. His face, with hard features and a furrowed brow, radiated an indignation that pretended to be heroic justice, but you knew too well the reality behind that facade. The Kamome discipline committee was nothing more than a nest of hypocrites with delusions of grandeur, a student version of The Seven from The Boys—corrupt types who cared nothing for the rules and only acted when the victim was a beautiful girl they wanted to impress or when they could exercise their sadism under the cover of their positions. Tadashi, despite his short stature, stepped between you and the stalker with his chest puffed out in pride, looking at Minato with absolute contempt while trying to subdue him through physical force.
Tadashi: Let go of student Ijuuin right now, scum! Your presence in this hallway violates the student conduct code, and your behavior qualifies as direct harassment. I won't allow you to keep bothering a lady in my presence.

>Tadashi applied more pressure to Minato's wrist, trying to force his arm back to make him kneel, expecting the thin third-year to yield immediately to his authority and basic self-defense training. However, Minato's reaction was completely different from what was expected. Instead of complaining or struggling in panic, the harasser let out a long, slow sigh, a cold exhalation that froze the hallway's atmosphere. His face showed not the slightest sign of pain or surprise; in fact, his calm smile widened in a creepy way, and his dark eyes locked onto the committee boy with absolute indifference, empty of any trace of humanity, immediately evoking the chilling, calculating presence of a pure sociopath like Anton Chigurh.

Minato: What a predictable nuisance...

>With inhuman speed that completely defied his skeletal and lanky appearance, Minato used Tadashi's own pushing force to execute a fluid, acrobatic move. Leaping cleanly forward, he passed his left leg over Tadashi's shoulder, trapping his neck in a fraction of a second while dropping his own weight onto the hallway floor. The move was so precise and sudden that it dragged the committee member straight onto the tiles. Before Tadashi could understand what was happening, Minato had already locked in a perfect submission hold on the ground, crossing his legs around the first-year's outstretched arm in impeccable jiu-jitsu, applying a brutal lever on his elbow joint. Tadashi was completely immobilized under Minato's body, his face pressed against the cold floor and his arm trapped in a hyperextended angle that threatened to tear his ligaments at any moment.
>The committee boy began to struggle desperately, his cheeks flushed red from exertion and humiliation, trying to free his limb with clumsy movements, but the physical strength Minato applied from his position was immense, far superior to what his slender build suggested. The hallway silence filled with Tadashi's muffled cries of pain, his teeth gritted with all his might, desperately trying not to let out a single scream of agony that would completely ruin what remained of his military pride before you. Minato, maintaining an unperturbed seriousness on his pale face, increased the pressure of the armlock with sadistic slowness, enjoying every millimeter of tension in his opponent's tendons, never taking his eyes off you for a single second. With terrifying calmness, the harasser shifted his attention from his victim for an instant to gift you a small, sweet smile that contrasted grotesquely with the violence of the act he was perpetrating.

Minato: Don't worry about this nuisance, my sweet Seika-chan. The committee's lapdogs are always so noisy and pretentious. You can leave peacefully if you wish; I'll take care of cleaning up this mess. I'll speak personally with the president of their committee to ensure none of these idiots interfere again in our beautiful and inevitable path toward true love. After all, my father is a very influential businessman who funds half the projects of this high school; the discipline committee knows perfectly well it doesn't suit them to bite the hand that feeds them. Go where you must, my golden queen. I'll be looking for you very soon, and the next time we meet, I'll ensure you finally feel my warmth... all my warmth over you.

>After uttering those words with a sickeningly sweet and chilling tone that made it clear he knew every one of your movements, Minato turned his gaze away from you and refocused on poor Tadashi. The situation was critical, and time was working against you. Returning home immediately was an absolute fantasy you couldn't afford; this maniac knew perfectly where you lived, the layout of your room, and even the exact hours you usually fell asleep, so returning alone to your home would mean handing yourself over directly to his territory. Before you lay only two possible paths for this moment: you could try to intervene actively to help the committee boy before Minato permanently broke his arm, risking unleashing the harasser's physical fury upon yourself, or you could turn around and run straight toward the abandoned classroom behind the gymnasium, the mysterious sanctuary of the Absolute Role Club where the eccentric Kinoko Ichinose awaited you with her wild fantasies of escapism and multiversal simulation as your only possible refuge against this real-life nightmare.
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10403 es
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OSAKA PREFECTURAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

Criminal Investigation Division – Kamome District Police Station

CRIMINAL CASE FILE NO.:** Osaka-2026-0984-IY

STATUS: CLOSED (By order of the Superior Headquarters)

---

I. VICTIM (DECEASED) DATA

Full Name: Inoue Yui (井上 結衣)
Age: 36 years old
Date of Birth: March 14, xxxx
Origin: Niigata Prefecture (Registered in Nagaoka City)
Current Residence: Kamome District, Osaka
Occupation: Japanese Literature Teacher – Kamome High School
Date of Death: May 12, xxx
Place of Death: Backyard of Kamome High School (area adjacent to the rooftop emergency exit)

---

II. DESCRIPTION OF EVENTS

On May 12, xxxx, at 06:15 hours, the janitor of Kamome High School reported finding the lifeless body of a woman on the pavement of the school's backyard. Upon arrival, Osaka Police units confirmed the body belonged to Teacher Inoue Yui.

The apparent cause of death was severe craniocerebral trauma and multiple internal injuries incompatible with life, caused by a free fall from an approximate height of 18 meters (rooftop of the main building, corresponding to the 3rd floor). On the edge of the rooftop, the victim's shoes were found perfectly arranged, a classic indicator of suicide in local police protocol.

---

III. INITIAL INVESTIGATION LINES (CLASSIFIED INFORMATION)

During the first 72 hours, investigators gathered testimonies from teachers, students, and digital records that revealed an extremely hostile reality surrounding the victim.

#### A. Systematic and Cruel Harassment by Third Parties (3rd Year High School Gang)

A group of four third-year students linked to local youth gangs (delinquents/thugs) was identified. The documented harassment in the victim's personal diaries and recovered mobile phone chats included:

-Extortion and blackmail: Students demanded exam approval under threat of physical assault outside the school grounds.
-Psychological torture and public humiliation: They violently sabotaged her classes (throwing dirty water at her, scratching her belongings with degrading insults, and destroying her teaching materials).
-Ruthless digital harassment: Creation of anonymous forums on social media where edited photos of the teacher were circulated, accompanied by hate messages, incitement to suicide, and explicit threats of physical and sexual violence if she reported them.

>Investigator's Note: The level of harassment was daily, relentless, and designed to destroy the victim's psyche. Teacher Inoue lived in a state of constant hypervigilance, panic, and emotional helplessness.
#### B. Link with the School Principal

External surveillance records and testimonies from neighbors near the campus indicated that Professor Inoue was repeatedly seen leaving the principal's office late at night in the company of the principal XXXXXXXXXXX.

- When informally questioned by colleagues weeks before her death, Inoue flatly denied any relationship with the principal. However, witnesses described her responses as laden with evident fear, bodily tremors, and weeping.
- There is suspicion of a coercive relationship or abuse of power, where the victim was forced to remain silent about student harassment in exchange for keeping her job, or under direct threats from the principal not to damage the high school's reputation.

---

IV. POST-EVENTS AND FAMILY DISPOSITION

On May 15, xxxx, the victim's parents traveled from Niigata Prefecture to claim the body.

After a closed-door meeting lasting over three hours between the immediate family, the principal XXXXXXXXXXX, and the legal representative of the school board, the family's attitude changed drastically:

- Family Decision: They signed a formal statement withdrawing any demand for criminal or civil investigation against Kamome High School or any of its students.
- Transfer: Inoue Yui's body was immediately transported to her hometown in Niigata for burial in the family cemetery, canceling any funeral ceremony in Osaka.

---

V. FINAL RESOLUTION AND CLOSURE ORDER

(Drafted in accordance with the directives of the Osaka Metropolitan Police Department)

Despite evidence of severe harassment and possible institutional coercion, an order to suspend proceedings was received from high-ranking department officials, citing the "preservation of social order and student peace," to avoid a scandal affecting local school boards.

Therefore, the case is officially declared CLOSED under the following terms:

>OFFICIAL REPORT CONCLUSION
The deceased, Inoue Yui, had an undiagnosed clinical history of severe depression and chronic emotional instability. The death is formally classified as suicide by self-inflicted precipitous action due to a state of shock and mental collapse strictly personal. No evidence or sufficient proof is found of third-party involvement in triggering the suicidal decision. Responsibility of the school board, teaching staff, and students of Kamome High School is ruled out.

Signature of the Officer in Charge: Inspector Hayashi T.

Official Seal: Osaka Prefectural Police (大阪府警察)
bonita-chan Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10404 es
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>>10395
>After countless endless hours of studying, the bell finally rang, announcing that the students could finally escape this hell called High School. Accompanied by the ringing of the bell, the roar of the hallway and the awakening of the classrooms. Steps, chats, chatter, laughter, desks being dragged, sneakers slipping, and hurried conversations gave life to these last minutes of class. For some older ones, it could be a nostalgic sound, but for others younger, it was the breath of air that gave hope every day, for which they constantly looked at the clock waiting for that hand to finish its full rotation.

>Amidst all that noise, laughter, and shoves, in a corner still sitting at my desk, was me. My face was fixed entirely on my desk, which was completely clean, except for a simple eraser, which I observed intently. While everyone hurried to leave or chat, I was thinking deeply.... What was I thinking? Thinking of nothing, literally. My blank face absorbed in my thoughts of nothing made me completely forget my surroundings, to the same extent that my surroundings completely ignore me, to the point that they step on my foot, and don't notice my presence, although I also don't notice that they crushed my little foot.

>Then a faint smile appeared on my pale face, it was almost imperceptible, maybe I wasn't thinking of nothing, maybe when I saw the eraser on my desk I imagined that it was a world like the Pikmin game for the GameCube, and the eraser was Captain Olimar, and I watched him doing his things like in the video game... or maybe not, and it was just nothing. It didn't matter because seen from the outside, it simply looked like a girl with a lost face, observing the desk, thinking of nothing. Then something made me snap out of my trance, making me look to the sides, and gather my things to prepare to leave for... home? Maybe, or I might detour to some other place.

-But then, when I was about to stand up from my desk, I saw the janitor who had stuck his head through the window frame of the hallway. I raised an eyebrow and observed him. What did this man want? Generally I cleaned my desk and such things so as not to give extra work to the cleaning staff, so I don't think I did anything wrong for now, or my mind tells me so. When I was about to turn to leave, this man spoke to me.

I said simply, while lowering my gaze slightly to look him in the eyes. I was tall, although the man was still bigger than me in proportions. After all, I was a teenager and he was an adult man.

<"I have been observing you..."

>I raised an eyebrow and asked.
"Why?"

>Not in an accusatory tone, it was simple autistic curiosity.

<... and let me tell you that today you look especially beautiful.
"...."

"Thanks....?"

"..."

>I observed his book

"Are you reading Tanizaki?"

>With that, I stayed silent for a while thinking of nothing while looking up, I had seen that book somewhere, I think I had read it, it was, interesting, but while thinking, I ended up ignoring almost everything the janitor was telling me.

<It's a pity that no one in this dirty classroom...
"....?"

>I looked to the sides, looking at the classroom.
"The classroom isn't that dirty."

"You do a good job, don't be so hard on yourself"

>Yes, I took everything literally, and didn't understand much what the janitor wanted to tell me. Then, when I was about to turn to finally go home, Mr. Katsuro continued speaking.

<I know everything about you
"Is that so?"

<I know that no one in this classroom speaks to you
"It's not that they have much to say, truth be told"

<they treat you as if you were a ghost
"Ghosts are cool, but they don't exist"
<Nobody notices if she laughs.
"I hardly ever laugh."

>It wasn't like I was defending myself or anything; it's just that the descriptions he gave weren't accurate, so I didn't understand them and interrupted his monologue to reply. Honestly, I didn't understand much of what he was trying to tell me.

"eh"

"Sir, are you sure you're observing me?"

"Because it doesn't seem like it."

"Could he be talking about himself?"

>I say that straight out, with no malicious intent, but with genuine innocence, using that moment to glance at my 2-yen Casio watch and prepare to leave.

"It's getting late-.... ..?"

>Then I fall silent and listen to his proposal seriously. I blink a bit and look to the side while listening attentively to his words. I stay there for several seconds thinking, trying to understand his words, and then respond with a cold face and simple words, without anger or drama.

<"Let's esca-"
"I don't want to do it."

<I'd love for you to be my wife.
"I don't know you well enough."

>With that, I listen to his entire monologue attentively. My face shifts from vacant, to vacant to serious, to serious to.... Disappointed? It took a while, but in the end, I roughly understood his intentions, though I really don't understand how anyone could come to those conclusions. I just let out a sigh and reply to him.

"What... disappointing."

>I appreciate exceptions; I like things that break clichés. Not because I want to be original, but because patterns that are too predictable seem boring.... Unfortunately, this time I was disappointed too.

"It's statistically disappointing....."

>I say with a tired tone.

"...What a pity."

"At first I thought he was just someone trying to talk to me."

"Now he's a man threatening students. There are many people like that."

>My mistake was expecting something different.

"For a few seconds I thought someone had decided to talk to me for the first time today."

>I stay thinking.

"It was a pleasant hypothesis."

"...."

"It turned out to be incorrect."

>Now I look at him with pity. I thought maybe he was a kind person. It turned out to be exactly the stereotype I hoped to avoid. So I just turn around and walk away from the window.

"If... it's a terrible pity" kek

>I tell myself,

":..."

>Then, just as I was planning to leave and the janitor was trying to enter to hack me and probably rape me, a cloud of smoke hits the man's face. Tobacco smoke. It was the smoke from one of the teachers, Ishii, who stops him and they start a passive-aggressive "conversation." Did I do something wrong? No idea, so I just slowly walk away to a more appropriate distance while playing with my sleeves.

>In the end, the janitor leaves, glaring at me... I think I did something wrong, though I don't understand what. And with that, the teacher starts talking to me. I listen attentively to his words. He gives me some recommendations, which... maybe I don't need right now, since I already have something in my backpack, but they are appreciated, and he mentions the suicide. Why would I do that? The logic of suicide doesn't fit in my mind, so I just raise an eyebrow in confusion. And he tells me that a teacher committed suicide last time, which explained the lack of something, though I didn't know what.

"I understand."

"Thanks for everything."

>With that... I'm left alone in this classroom. I take a deep breath, enjoying the silence a bit, before leaving the place on foot. My shoes make a sound in the hallway as I head toward the high school courtyard, and after walking for a while through the gym, I manage to reach that abandoned classroom.

"I think I've never been to this part of the school before."

>Without thinking twice, I approach and enter with some caution, which lasts only 2 seconds, after which I stop worrying about hiding my entry.

"Why does my foot hurt?"
bonita-chan Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10405 pt
>>10391
>>10388
>Natalia Cannobio
MELON LIKE CANOBIOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Rolero Andradite-78cd36 No.10406 es
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>>10403
Was this all along a mystery roleplay disguised the whole time?
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<doki doki waku waku mune ga takanaru watashi no kokoro mushibamu no a-na-ta

>The music from the so-called "Fatso's" headphones blares so loudly down the hallway that wearing them is pointless. If anyone brave enough dared to look in his direction, they'd notice the headphone cord dangling behind his fat ass.
>Pretending not to be aware of this fact, the fatso strutted freely through the school. Acting like some kind of celebrity, he greeted every teacher, staff member, or student he encountered with a wink and a "bang," while swaying his hips to the music, causing his bulging belly to jiggle and bounce.

<Ah, buddy! Come on in, don't just stand there like an old piece of furniture.

Tanaka, you know damn well my name is Jack. Try using it once in a while, okay?

>Turning off his music player, the fatso entered the teachers' lounge. He greeted his colleagues with a raised hand and sat down near them. "Jack" was only today's name—each day he arrives with a different one, even going through the trouble of forging his passport to match.
>Everything else about him remains unknown. Sometimes he claims to be 27, other times 60. One day he's Guatemalan, the next Korean. Even his gender remains a mystery—or at least, that's what he thinks—since seeing him in makeup and a dress pretending to be a woman isn't exactly rare.
>Due to his erratic and ever-changing nature, the rest of his "colleagues" have ended up referring to him solely as "fatso," since that's the only thing that never changes.

<injecting stimulant hormones directly into the school's drinking water supply

Didn't we do that last semester? No, wait... those hormones were meant to make the students' breasts grow bigger.
...Something must've gone really wrong with that, otherwise I can't explain how that Mei L girl's tits got so huge.

<I hope your students showed more interest in your subject than you do in your personal hygiene.

Sia... I can assure you the students pay far more attention in my class than in yours. After all, your appearance is far more... suitable for "distractions."

>With a sly grin, the fatso turned his gaze toward Sia, then devoured her with his eyes. This kind of visual harassment is something the teacher has long grown accustomed to—not just from the fatso, but also from her students.
>As for his own class, the opposite happens. Students go out of their way to avoid eye contact with the fatso, preferring to bury their heads in their books just to ignore him. The sooner class ends, the sooner they'll be rid of him—and that's something every single student knows all too well.
<Second-year student Sazayama swears she saw him nibbling on her freshly worn gym uniform in the locker room.

Only her? Then it's nothing serious.

>Hand on chin, he nodded repeatedly at Professor Tanaka's rambling. He wasn't listening to a word, but pretended to pay attention just to feign interest.
>His eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the accusations, but he quickly relaxed and leaned back in his seat. He'd bitten and sniffed far more clothing than that. If only one student reported anything, then there was nothing to worry about.

<we can't afford a sexual scandal

Sexual scandal... Hah, hah! Those things only matter when it's a young girl, right? In that case, you won't mind if I continue my daily routine of sniffing the soccer club members' shoes, will you?

>Leaning even farther back in his seat, the fat man tilted his gaze upward and placed his hands behind his head.
>The sexual harassment offenses he'd committed numbered in the hundreds and weren't limited to women alone. Men, students, teachers, women—even the janitor was among his victims. True to his "I'll go after anything" ideology, the fat man always made sure to demonstrate that "anything" meant EVERYTHING.

<I'm asking you in the most formal way possible: restrain yourself

Although... don't you think that's a bit sexist? Just giving a woman a dirty look and you're accused of being a rapist, but nobody bats an eye if a man gets spanked. Aah... what an unfair world we live in...
Tell me, Teacher Sia—wouldn't you like to live in a world where you aren't judged for chasing after boys who haven't even grown pubic hair yet? What about you, Professor Tanaka? Surely you'd love to have Class 2-A's classroom freely available for more of your "meetings," wouldn't you?

>He crossed his legs, folded his arms, and looked at Sia again. Being exposed didn't bother him. He knew this institution well enough to understand that everyone here was just as sick as he was—the only difference being that he admitted it. If the police ever investigated the fat man, they'd realize he was merely one of many problems within this school. Covering up his actions and pretending nothing happened was best for everyone.
>Yet the fat man thought differently. In his mind, the world would be a better place if everyone spoke openly and honestly about their vices and fetishes. Attempting to convince his colleagues of this for the fourteenth time this week, the fat man began talking about the very scandals they themselves were covering up.
<Can one know what kind of chicken coop you are setting up here?

Director Kurogane, welcome, would you like to receive that massage this time? I've brought a special lotion that I'm sure you'll love.

>Far from provoking fear, Director Kurogane's imposing figure evoked a completely different feeling within the fat man's mind.
>Getting up from his seat, he hurried to search his bag for a coconut-scented lotion, which he opened and brought close to Director Kurogane's face for him to smell. It's not the first, nor the last time he intends to give him a massage, although of course... The massage was just an excuse to get what he really wants and has been denied so far.

<I wonder how it's possible that the education system allows individuals with such a lack of self-esteem to be in charge of shaping the minds of the future.

Of course, director, the "education system" ;)

>He winked at the director's words. The truth is, the fat man is not a teacher, at least not a certified one. The story of how he ended up working here dates back two years.
>On a full moon night, he decided to sneak into the school to masturbate with all the wind instruments from the music club. Instead of fleeing immediately after finishing his crime, the fat man spent the night sleeping there and left as if nothing had happened the next morning. As he was walking down the hallway, another teacher mistakenly assumed he was the replacement for the Japanese literature teacher. change this if you want, maybe I'm getting too deep into the lore Not wanting to contradict him, the fat man went along with it and took over the class.
>To everyone's surprise, it turns out he was moderately good at teaching, so they ended up putting the entire class in his charge. Whether any of his colleagues know this story, or if it's another one of the many scandals they cover up, he doesn't care. He prefers to play dumb whenever the topic of how he's still working here comes up.

<You are the living portrait of failure, a loser who cannot even maintain basic adult dignity.

As harsh as ever, aren't you, director? I'm sure you have other hard things stored away too! Ha, ha, ha!
But you don't have to worry. Just as you say, I am everything no one wants to be, and that is precisely why I am the best example of discipline in this school. Any student who looks at me will instantly understand why they must study if they don't want to end up like me.
>Continuing his sexual harassment of the principal, the fatso approached him from behind and felt with his greasy hands that Herculean mountain of muscle that was him, while also ogling his entire package. After a few seconds of that, he stepped back, proudly proclaiming himself human garbage, while pointing at himself.
>His disastrous and immoral lifestyle was the perfect example to show any wayward youth why they should correct their lives before it was too late. The fatso was not a figure worthy of respect within his class, nor was he someone liked by it, but everyone instinctively understood that they should strive not to be like him. Thanks to the fatso and his disgusting being, the Japanese literature class grades had improved by up to 40% compared to how they were before.

<It turns out you've joined that pathetic group of deviants they call the 'Roleplaying Club'

You already know how the rules are, every club needs a master to supervise them and since you're out of options, you've turned to me.

<Roleplay. Imagine you're an imposing hero, a respected warrior, or anything other than the sad sack of lard you see in the mirror every morning. I guess it must be comforting to live in a fantasy world when your reality is complete garbage.

No, no, no, you're mistaken. A writer who writes about topics they don't know will always be a mediocre writer. True literature arises from one's own knowledge of the subject. The world of roleplaying is no different; if I were to play a character who was the antithesis of what I am, I would run out of ideas quite soon. It's much better to try to explore one's own facets than to pretend to be something you're not.
For example... you would surely enjoy playing the role of a stoic robot from the future who must stop the rebels who dare to go against the regime.

>He shook his hand again and again to deny what the principal had said. Kurogane's ideas about what a roleplaying campaign with the fatso would be couldn't have been more wrong. He's not interested in pretending to be some kind of Gary Stu who succeeds at everything; there's no fun in that kind of thing. Explaining his point of view, the fatso tried to make the principal understand the correct way to engage with the world of roleplaying, almost as if he hoped to awaken some latent interest within him.

<You should be heading to your little gaming cubicle, professor. You're running late for your important session of childish fantasies.

You're right, see you later, au revoir.

>Gathering his things, the fatso approached the door and said goodbye to everyone with a wide smile. It was time to begin his epic roleplaying adventure.
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10408 es
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>>10398
One day less to live, one more day in boring Kamome Preparatory School
Rena was being physically bullied for the first time in her life, well, not really, it wouldn't be the first time, even though she had learned to defend herself in the past, being caught by surprise was entirely her fault. She still had trouble learning to trust others. While she was good at detecting patterns, she still didn't quite understand how to detect human intentions. The fact that these brutes were giving her a programmed and planned beating with just the typical toilet drowning and some painful kicks to the ribs showed that they weren't very smart, and that their modus operandi was the impulse of malice to impose fear and hierarchical status.

>Delinquent 1: Hey! Aren't you listening to me, you piece of shit?! React, damn it! I hate that stupid blank face you have, you look dead inside! Cry! Beg! I want you to beg me on your knees to stop, you damn retard!
-After having her head out of the toilet, Rena coughed a little. Although her face was wet and smelled of urine, the Japanese toilet was tiny. She couldn't swallow anything, but she was gasping for air. Even so, her face showed no emotion. Her eyes stared fixedly at her aggressor, learning every detail of her face, memorizing it for later-
....

-You were about to respond, but as if by a miracle, a huge girl entered the place, capturing the attention of the brutes and making them let go of you. Although she didn't really come to help you, Katsumi helped you get the most valuable things: time and information-

>Delinquent 1: You got lucky this time, weirdo. The boss wants to see us in the park right after classes and we're already late for the meeting. But don't worry, this isn't over.
...I know -you say gruffly, then receive one last kick from the leader-

>Katsumi: A-Are you okay, Rena? I'm so sorry... I'm really sorry I didn't do anything to help you, but I'm terribly scared of people who yell... Hey, would you like us to go to the role-playing club together? Because... I'm really embarrassed to go there alone. Besides... I'm terribly afraid of President Kinoko...
-You know you're autistic, but sometimes you wonder if other people are too. Like Katsumi. Although your Asperger's is special, you know that every autistic person is different. Could her extreme shyness be a symptom? You look at her with a "do I look okay?" expression. You get up as best you can and go wash your face before answering her, so she keeps talking-
>Katsumi: It's just... there's a terrible rumor going around my class about her. They say that last year, during the school festival, her club ran out of budget and she decided to sell homemade love potions that were actually just water mixed with horse growth hormones she stole from the equestrian club. And when the teachers caught her, she tried to convince them it was all part of a live-action roleplay where she was playing a corrupt level-twenty alchemist... She's absolutely insane! Ah, and to make matters worse, the only reason I joined this club was because... well...
- so the president can enter other clubs, but has no money problems, and that incident with the horse hormones under a roleplay excuse—maybe you could use that to your advantage-

>Katsumi: I got kicked out of the baseball club... I had issues with their president... He tried to... r-rape... L-let's just drop it....
- you turn to look at Katsumi; sometimes revealing more than necessary is counterproductive, and clearly she hasn't learned that yet. You've barely even met this girl, but her intervention saved you today—you feel like you owe her one. You're about to respond when the door bursts open and the janitor storms in-

>Janitor: WHAT KIND OF SATANIC ABOMINATIONS HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN HERE?! WHICH ONE OF YOU TWO DEMON SPAWNS IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS ARTISTIC PROFANITY?! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT RIGHT NOW OR I'LL MAKE YOU CLEAN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE DAMNED CROSS MARKS WITH THE TIP OF YOUR TONGUE! GET OUT OF MY BATHROOM!
-Yeah, the shit graffiti was in bad taste, didn't even meet the standards of those modern artists, but you don't get what he's complaining about—it's his job, he gets paid to clean. You don't understand why adults whine so much. Then again, students also complain about having to do homework, but isn't this kind of thing our duty? Before you can drift deeper into your thoughts and zone out, Katsumi's voice snaps you back to reality-
>Katsumi: A-Ah! Rena, please, get up quickly and let's get out of here before he kills us! I'll wait for you in the hallway!

-You watch her run off, leaving you behind under the furious glare of the janitor. You reconsider your earlier thoughts about owing her anything. You didn't even get to ask her the names of those bullies, but you memorized their faces well enough-

I'll tell you who they were - you say coldly to the janitor, giving him a detailed description of your attackers. Shame you don't know their names. With that done, you limp toward the door, finally heading to the club. Now it's time to fully dive into learning how to roleplay—after all, it'll give you ideas for the revenge you're already plotting in your head. But one thing at a time.

......bring pepper spray tomorrow, get their names, meeting location, home addresses, plan character roles, see if President Kinoko could be useful....buy sweets first
-You had a lot on your mind, but priorities first. You hoped someone at the club had some tasty snacks. You keep walking, this time with a firm look in your eyes. You wouldn't accept a "no" for an answer—you needed sweets to think clearly.
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>>10408
>>10404
>>10407
>>10401
>>10400
>>10399
>>10393
>Upon entering the club room, the first impact wasn't visual, but olfactory: a slap of air thick with the smell of old 90s manual paper, accumulated dampness, the stale sweetness of evaporated colas, and that unmistakable trace of dust that only forms when a space is claimed by the outcasts of the school system. The room was decorated with a chaos so meticulous it bordered on pathological. Handmade garlands of colored cardstock pennants hung from the ceiling beams, guarded in the center by a plastic skull with a rather cheap brown wig. On the left wall, a huge whiteboard was covered from head to toe with complex flowcharts explaining homemade combat rules, alongside a corrugated cardboard sign painted with tempera welcoming them. The metal shelves on the sides creaked under the weight of binders overflowing with crumpled character sheets, shoeboxes filled with faded lead miniatures, and oddities like a glass jar containing a rubber brain floating in murky water.

>In the center of this sanctuary of escapism stood a massive dark wood table, covered almost entirely by a fantasy topographic map drawn on kraft paper, where small plastic warriors and dragons of dubious scale stood guard. Around the map, graph notebooks, mugs with twenty-sided dice logos, and small piles of polyhedral dice waited to be claimed. Folding metal chairs were meticulously arranged for each of the new members who had just crossed the threshold, but the main chair, situated at the far end of the table and reserved for whoever was to direct the fantasy symphony, was completely empty. The president's absence was beginning to cause discomfort. As the newcomers cautiously took their seats, their gazes inevitably met those of the other new members already occupying their respective spots at the table.

>To the left was an extremely short girl with deep blue hair tied in two high pigtails, sitting next to Bibi. Right beside her, hunched over himself as if trying to mock the laws of physics to disappear, a boy with black hair clutched his bandaged arms, his face adorned with band-aids and huge, teary, exhausted eyes that begged not to be anyone's center of attention. Completely breaking the group's scale, an imposing girl with broad shoulders and formidable musculature observed everyone shyly. In the opposite corner, a boy covered in extremely strange black face paint, with deep black shadows around his eyes and lips that gave him a cadaverous or low-budget mime appearance, breathed heavily through his open mouth, keeping his gaze fixed on the void under his flat military cap. Next to him, a girl with a robust build and pink-rimmed glasses smiled with overflowing energy; she wore her brown hair in two short pigtails with heart clips. Near her, a languid and extremely thin young woman slumped in her chair; her brown hair was so messy it looked like she had survived a minor hurricane, and her narrowed eyes stared at the ceiling with an apathy so profound it made one doubt if she was still conscious or if she was a mannequin with a poorly adjusted red tie. Finally, closing the semicircle of veterans, a boy with tanned skin and snow-white hair smiled with almost angelic kindness, rubbing his chin in a gesture that tried to instill calm in the very nervous new members.
>Suddenly, the expectant silence was interrupted by a song from an old cassette player hidden behind the bookshelf.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xg91QwPT0v0
>Before anyone could comprehend where the noise was coming from, the door of an old metal cleaning closet at the back of the room burst open with a metallic clang. From inside, enveloped in a cloud of chalk dust and throwing handfuls of shiny confetti she carried in her pockets, Kinoko Ichinose emerged triumphantly. She wore a plastic microphone connected to a portable toy amplifier strapped to her waist. With a cat-like grin from ear to ear that threatened to split her face in two and making the peace sign with both hands covered in glue, she waited for the drum beat to intensify before planting herself in front of the table and exclaiming with all her might.

Kinoko: LIFE IS SHIT!

>Her voice echoed through the small speaker, distorting with a high-pitched squeal that forced several attendees to cover their ears. The president was unfazed; on the contrary, her eyes shone with an almost messianic intensity behind the thick lenses of her glasses as she began to pace back and forth on the table.

Kinoko: Yes, you heard me right, my dear simulation neophytes! The objective reality in which we are forced to drag our miserable existences is a landfill of reheated dung! Look around you, beyond these gray concrete walls you call a school. What does the outside world offer us? Absurd wars in every corner of the map, economic collapses designed by old men in expensive suits, a birth rate so low that soon the only ones inheriting the Earth will be delivery robots, absurd crimes, and, as if that weren't enough, psychopathic artificial intelligences that are two minutes away from deciding that humans are too stupid to keep breathing! They tell us to study, to prepare for standardized tests, to get a corporate job where we'll sell our souls for a pittance until our bodies wither away. I say, go to hell! I categorically reject their plastic modernity and their slave responsibilities!
>She paused dramatically, placing a hand on her chest and striking a pose like a tragic heroine from a 90s anime, as golden confetti still lazily floated above her dark green hair.

Kinoko: This club isn't some Sunday hobby for nerds with nothing better to do. No sir! This place is a bastion of resistance. It's the only oasis of freedom in this desert of generational mediocrity. Here, we don't care if you're an autist who can't make eye contact, if you're fat, if you're ugly, if you're deformed by genetics or bad posture, if you're a clueless gaijin, a hafu who doesn't fit in anywhere, someone of oil color marginalized by Kamome's superficial society, an incurable virgin, or the next serial killer to make the local news. To hell with the labels of the outside world! Before my dice, we are all equal. Here we have the right to happiness, the right to build imaginary empires, and the right to be the damn kings of our own madness. If the world has condemned us to die alone, repudiated, and penniless in our bank accounts, so be it! But I guarantee you that before that tragic end arrives, we will have lived a thousand memorable lives, conquered impossible dungeons, and laughed in the face of this damn system. This is my generational survival manifesto!

>With a practiced but clumsy movement, Kinoko pulled a small, worn-looking black notebook from her back pocket, a "Death Note."

Kinoko: Each and every one of my truths, my vision, and the foundations of our resistance are laid out here, in the founding document I have respectfully titled: "The Manifesto of Absolute Evasion: A Manual Against the Tyranny of Reality." It will be permanently on the club's shelf for you to purify your minds whenever you feel the weight of the modern world crushing you. Read it!

>Just as she uttered the last word, the song reached its final note. Kinoko, panting slightly from exertion and hyperactivity, switched off the portable microphone with a dry click and jumped down from the table, landing with a dull thud that sent a couple of six-sided dice skittering. Her grin of wicked satisfaction returned to her face as she adjusted her glasses.

Kinoko: Alright! It's time for us to truly get to know each other. I'd say we're a beautiful family now, but let's be honest: the institution of the traditional family is deader than a Kamome graduate's illusions. So, from today on, we'll refer to ourselves as the "Sacred Brotherhood of Multiversal Simulation." And to make introductions not a sovereign bore of "hi, I'm so-and-so and I like bread," we're going to use the scientific method of chance. Watch this!
>The president stuck her hand into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a plastic dodecahedron, spinning it on the tip of her finger with suspicious dexterity.

Kinoko: A beautiful twelve-sided die! The rules are simple: each person will stand up, say their name, their grade, and their favorite movie. Then, they'll pick three people in this room, roll this die for each of them, and carry out whatever action fate decides. No complaints, no regrets! For example, if I pick this little sprout right here...

>She quickly leaned over the table, pointing an accusing finger at the timid boy with black hair and bandages, who seemed to shrink even further under her predatory gaze. The president tossed the die into the air; it landed on the table, and she read what it showed—

Kinoko: Ah-ha! It's a twelve. Twelve clearly says... "suck his ass while jerking him off."
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10410 es
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>>10409
<Kinoko Interaction Dice

1. Spank her bottom.

2. Give her a slap.

3. Sniff her neck closely and sigh.

4. You should challenge that person.

5. Give her a massage anywhere you decide.

6. French kiss.

7. Do a 15-second dance.

8. Ask her what color her underwear is by staring directly into her eyes.

9. Tickling attack

10. Reveal a very deep secret about yourself to the other person.

11. Spit in her face.

12. Tell the other person something positive.

---

<Kinoko Dice

For Seika: 1d12 = 2

For bonita-chan: 1d12 = 12

For Rena: 1d12 = 11

I recommend rolling your dice first before responding You can interact freely between rollers, it's time!!!
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10411 es
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>>10410
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10412 es
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MINISTRY OF EDUCATION OF JAPAN (MEXT)

Secondary Education Supervision Office - Osaka District

FILE: MEXT-OSA-2026-KM99
ISSUER: State Board of Educational Evaluation (Governmental)

This personnel record and classified resume has been written and verified by this Ministry for the supervision of the campus:

---

HIERARCHICAL STRUCTURE AND FILES

- Director (校長 - Kouchou)
Name: Genzuro Kuragane (45 years old)
Background: Son of a political leader of the ruling party. He plagiarized his law thesis. Former active member of the Yakuza. Linked to 3 cases of homicide and 2 of rape, being declared innocent in all due to political influence.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/3233542?q=hanayama_kaoru+

- Deputy Director (教頭 - Kyoutou)
Name: Teresa del Toro (37 years old)
Background: Mexican from a very wealthy family. Linked to criminal groups such as the Cartel of the Americas, Cosa Nostra and D-Company. Does not consume spicy. Married to a recently deceased Japanese deputy.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/5037927

- Parent Teacher Association (PTA)
President: Sumitomo Fumi (59 years old)
Background: Osaka noblewoman and philanthropist. He runs a foundation for victims of the FLEIJA bomb in Hiroshima and children of white slavery. Mother of 6 children (none in Kamome). Amateur actress with terrible reviews.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/11661784?q=illustrious_%28azur_lane%29+

- Academic Coordinator (教務主任 - Kyoumu-shunin)
Name: Sia Baya (30 years old)
Background: Central American refugee. Former teacher forced to fight in her country; He is suspected of killing many people. Rights activist gaijin. Seafood lover and with severe allergies to dogs and cats.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/10228974?q=semiu_grier

- Head of Grade: First Year
Name: Ryoichi Takebayashi (20 years old)
Background: Prodigy with an IQ of 162, but with a lame and apathetic attitude. Frustrated expoeta; He took the position by default. He runs the Tea Club. He hates noise, young people and socializing. He is rumored to be homosexual.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/11179037?q=sayonara_zetsubou_sensei+

- Head of Grade: Second Year
Name: Natalia Cannobio (27 years old)
Background: Uruguayan immigrant. He fled after the establishment of the unified South American empire. Graduated with honors and persecuted politician who obtained asylum in Japan. He loves cotton candy, hates wine and aspires to be the school principal.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/3589010?q=kirisu_mafuyu+

- Head of Grade: Third Year
Name: Sato Kato (39 years old)
Background: Graduated from Tokyo. He fled after a scandal involving the sale of admission exams (his accomplices are serving 20 years in prison). Follower of the strict authoritarian pedagogy of Shigetane Shibata. Divorced, his two children hate him.
Photo: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/6f/9c/9f/6f9c9fa5cab66c79ba20a6ea893a6ae3.jpg

- Teacher: History
Name: Katsuro Tanaka (55 years old)
History: Married, native of Kamome. He hasn't seen his 4 daughters for 15 years. Submissive and fearful. He was the high school principal until he was demoted to impose Kuragane. He likes origami and listening to whale songs, although he fears the sea.
Photo: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f7/f8/71/f7f871dda13df3621aa502eec9fc4e6a.jpg

- Teacher: Japanese Literature
Name: "Jack" (27 years old)
History: Obese and lascivious subject, viewed with hostility. Emergency substitute for the previous teacher, who committed suicide. He is the target of attacks by the Director. Lacks stable civil identity registration; He showed up and took the job.
Photo: Not yet registered

- Teacher: Physical Education and Health
Name: Azlan Shahmeer (27 years old)
Background: Illegal Pakistani immigrant. Without pedagogical training. Linked to Islamic extremists, hired only for his physique. Very religious; He hates the customs of Japan. He sends his entire salary to Afghanistan and has a furious attitude.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/9776474?q=nekketsu_hayato

- Teacher: Mathematics
Name: Hidetoshi Ishii (23 years old)
Background: Born in Sendai. Tobacco addict with lung damage and suspected cancer. His breath reeks of cigarettes. Of calm character, he survived a suicide attempt. He had an affair with a former student. He hates the Vice Principal.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/4302709?q=hayakawa_aki+

- Teacher: Sciences
Name: Uesugi Ayahime (25 years old)
History: Extremely long hair causing trips and injuries to students. Violent character, resorts to beatings to teach. Kendo Club Advisor. Unsatisfactory marriage, sterile and rumored to be a lesbian.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/11431864?q=bort+

- Teacher: English
Name: Verity Hightower (44 years old)
Background: American, veteran of the Divine War. He looks younger than he is. Suspected of being an undercover agent. Addicted to narcotics; Has business with the Vice Principal and Dr. Wang. Respected by the student gangs.Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/7083506?q=yamato_nadeshiko_%28hyakkano%29+

- Teacher: Geography and Social Sciences
Name: Ratmir Obolensky (37 years old)
Background: Hermetic Russian who speaks in code. Married to a Japanese official; Of his 3 children, one died mysteriously, another lives in Italy and one studies in Kamome. Face the Director. He almost beat a father to death.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/6169226?q=klaus_von_reinhertz

- Teacher: Art and Music
Name: Hiiragi Kotono (26 years old)
History: Frustrated artist who takes it out on her students. Single and bitter, she attends daily therapy. Friend of Natalia, Ishii, Verity and Sia. He caused the expulsion of a student by sabotaging his grades.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/7556685?q=tashigi+

- School Nursing Doctor (保健室 - Hokenshitsu)
Name: Dr. Wang Renjiro (32 years old)
History: Sino-Japanese. He lost his license due to medical negligence. Fan of the movie "The Human Centipede." It serves only young and delicate men. Friend of the Deputy Director and connection to gangs. Passage is denied throughout the American continent.
Photo: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e2/0a/96/e20a96b78a967a3d56b32c31684115e8.jpg

- President of the Guidance and Disciplinary Committee
Name: Saigusa Norimitsu (17 years old - Student)
Background: Daughter of a banker. Popular and manipulative; He appears kind but orders students to be beaten for fun or to be abused for pleasure. Voyeuristic attitudes. Non-aggression pact with gangs. Sworn enemy and antithesis of Kinoko Ichinose. Loves classical music and French food.
Photo: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/7707370?q=takao_%28azur_lane%29+

- School Janitor (用務員 - Yoomuin)
Name: Katsuro Mura (46 years old)
Background: Childhood friend of the Director. He lives in the school warehouse and bathes twice a month. Law graduate; he took the blame for Kuragane's plagiarism in exchange for his disqualification. Accused of harassment and abuse. High salary. Leaving the country is prohibited.
Photos: https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/vsbattles/images/8/8c/Fuhrer_Ugly_Redrawn.png/revision/latest?cb=20210917025841

---

CERTIFICATION OF REGISTRATION VALIDITY

===========================================================================
[OFFICIAL SEAL OF THE GENERAL DIRECTORATE OF SCHOOL CONTROL AND REGISTRATION]
MINISTRY OF EDUCATION OF JAPAN (MEXT)
===========================================================================

>It is certified that this staff of Kamome High School has been audited and registered under the direct jurisdiction of the Ministry of Education of Japan. The data contained is official and reserved.

Issued in Tokyo, Japan, on July 16, XXXX

{Signed Electronically by the General Representative}

Masahito Moriyama

Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology of Japan (MEXT)
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>>10409
>Takahara

Fatty I am~ Fatty I am~, a very fat roleplayer I am~~ hahaha

>Completely lacking any shame, the fat Takahara walked towards the place of his new club, singing a stupid song while shaking his dense, greasy belly that daily genocided many bowls of supreme meat and Tonkatsu
I assume that by being the first to respond, I arrived before the others
>Upon arriving behind the gym, he opened the door with exuberant energy, and greeted those already present

Good afternoon my fellow creators of vivid fiction through the algorithms of chance and dice! The paladin of the dice, Takahara, makes his presence known with pride.

>He bows barely 15 degrees because with his elevated mass, doing more would result in falling to the ground

Hmm?, And the president?

>More people came, even with company, incredible!, I had never seen so many people gather for a roleplaying game if it wasn't to make fun of it >>10408 >>10404 >>10407 >>10401 >>10400 >>10399

I can't believe it, so many people!, how wonderful to have so many companions for such a special occasion. Welcome my roleplayer friends, I hope we get along well.

>He greets those entering, with a bow and shaking hands if he can, he gets all sweaty and greasy when facing women, he stops upon seeing the fat guy

Hello Mr. Japanese Literature Professor, were you able to grade that report from last week?, I put a lot of effort into my research on the cultural differences between Eastern and Western Kobolds.

>Putting that aside, he sits in the first free seat he finds, the chair creaks under his weight if it's made of wood, cracks if it's made of plastic, and if it's metal, it dents, he didn't expect this school, especially this classroom, to have good chairs for someone XXXL like him
>He sits with his hands on the table, playing with his fingers while observing the others, waiting for the President, until she makes her triumphant entrance, and gives a speech that seems to strike Takahara directly in the soul

BRAVO, BRAVO BRAVISSIMO!

>Takahara applauds with all the strength he can, it seems his fat hands are like two stones colliding

THAT'S THE SPIRIT, THAT'S THE ATTITUDE FOR GROUPS OF FICTIONAL AND IMAGINATIVE NARRATIVE CREATION, THAT'S HOW YOU SPEAK!. (((FUCK, SHIT)))

>He stops, and coughs to clear his throat, he let out his half-Japanese and spoke in Spanish for a second

That's how you speak, there's no need to settle for the monocultural conditions and stereotypes that society imposes on us, when we can create our own!

>Lots of glazing, let's continue, Death Note

Can I borrow the manifesto when you're done?, I could scan it at home and print some copies if Kinoko-san wishes.

>After the presentation, now came more presentation but in the form of introductions, and of course, using the power of dice
>And the president is the first, showing her extensive and varied tastes with her chosen victims for the introduction round, based, Takahara drools while witnessing it all
>He also looks around

Damn, it's bad luck that there are no 15-sided dice

>If I was going to do it as a roleplayer, I was going to do it right and leave everything to chance, he took out his phone, with his wallpaper of Suu from Monster Musume, one of his first waifus and masturbations when he discovered the internet, and went to look for a trusted custom dice page and wrote down the present people before continuing

...
1-Ri
2-Jhon
3-The fat guy
4-Bibi
5-Hotaru
6-Bonita-chan
7-Rena
8-The baseball player
9-Seika
10-The suicide boy
11-The Emo
12-Fatty
13-Anorexic
14-Dark-skinned albino
15-Kinoko

1d15 = 4
1d15 = 3
1d15 = 3
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>>10413
by repetition, move to the next
>Takahara

Ahem, if you'll excuse me, Madam President, I'd like to be next, now that the sacred decision of the dice for my companions is finished

>He stood up

You're probably wondering who your humble servant is, well, I won't keep you waiting, before you stands the Alpha and Omega, a paladin of memetic chance and a high-level dice roller with experience that would leave those offering you an entry-level first job with their jaws on the floor due to decades of experience in the creation and manipulation of hyperversal meta-fictional narrative in such varied fields and genres, content in just under 6 years of human calendar, truly a milestone for human minds... I am

>He cleared his throat

I am Chemelier Verdun Takahara, you can refer to me as you wish, I have no problem being among my people, if you have a preferred name, tell me without fear. Oh yes, and for my, uhuh... hehehe, targets, I believe they would be, my companion in high calories, the little one with blue hair, and Bonita-chan too, I'm not saying it, the dice dictated it

>He asks the president for the dice and makes his three rolls before possibly committing acts of sexual harassment and assault that may or may not be justified as consensual

Fatty: 1d12 = 4
Hotaru: 1d12 = 7
Bonita-chan: 1d12 = 10
Roleron Andradite-78cd36 No.10415 es
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>>10414
>>10413
>>10410
>Takahara

>The dice commanded, I walk towards where the fat one was

It's a pleasure to meet you, comrade, before proceeding with the dice's command, as a sign of good manners I would like to ask your name

>With that done, he stared at her intently, though one eye drifted

What color panties are you wearing now?

>Next!
>I look at Hotaru

Ohh blue-chan, those hands you have look so cute and soft, fluffy like a cloud~, do you mind if I massage them

>I hope he extended his hand before catching it and starting to run his greasy, fat sausage fingers over her hand, wrist, and forearm to 'massage' it.
>Next!
>>10404

Ohhh pretty chan, you look so sweet despite that lack of expression you show, it's a perfect example of Gap-Moe brought into this gray reality we live in

>He leaned towards her, violating her personal space, the smell of Axe leather and cookies deodorant trying to cover the smell of onion was noticeable

If you put your nose against mine, I would greatly appreciate it!

>There wasn't a shred of shame or second thoughts in his actions, truly, he was a shameless roleplayer
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10416 es
>>10410
1d12 = 11
1d12 = 11
1d12 = 12
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10417 es
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Seika
>>10402
—(How unpleasant...)
—(And to think I found him cute when he played with his beloved animals, or scavenged in the trash like a true little recycler. Is this what pent-up passion can turn a boy into?)
—(Don't overthink it. He'll drag you down into his madness as soon as he gets the chance. I hope he doesn't do something stupid like blink the moment I do just to maintain eye contact.")
—(It's very simple, really, queen. Just replace his lines with songs by Marco Antonio Solis, you can't go wrong, he might even start sounding romantic)

—Carl's Jr?
—Minato, your brain lacked nutrients, and development, it erroneously processed the idea that my palate would voluntarily lower itself to chew processed meat at a fast-food chain.
—(Don't touch my hair. What an atrocious insult to my status. Don't you realize that the emerging presence of those establishments near our school has driven up the obesity rate?)

—Of course, it's just as you say! It'll be in the darkness of night, after waiting for me to eat my salad with the speed of a gardener trimming grass with nail clippers. I'll be so overwhelmed that I'll accept the first thing you say without complaint, you'll ask me to close my eyes and when I open them...
—It's this... An onion ring used as a ring, a symbol of pure, raw, and edible love. You'll make me cry.

—After all, what you want is a girl who wears thousands of fashionable outfits, a superficial doll who, to earn her luxuries, opens her mouth very wide or bounces her ample backside at the right moment. I think she could reciprocate...
—It's her, my pou
—Her name is Lady Sofia Cotorra Fifa Quintanilla. She's always a huge distraction when I want to ignore the vulgar murmurs around me, you know? It's not that we're friends, at this point I don't know if what I feel for Lady is resentment, tenderness, or perhaps envy, who knows
—(Calm down, Lady, your exotic butterfly wings worth 2 million coins are irresistible, but the gentleman has tastes that your virtual curves cannot satisfy, he won't do anything to you.)

—Oh... They started fighting...
—(I don't understand. It's probably instinctual. Boys like to wrestle with each other while rubbing their bulky bodies and emitting steam. Did I react too late? It's best if I leave)
—(Walk. You're not in a hurry)
—(I will raise a white flag and wave it for all the helpless, humble, and low-income girls who would wish to be in a situation like this. For you, Sofía2007, and for you, LadyPrincesaCotorra, on the internet)
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10418 es
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Seika
>>10409
—Perhaps I myself am a white flag... Fufu, look at yourself Seika, having such a level of vanity.
—(Pressing the door hard doesn't make it any more closed. I should let it go. It undoes my natural beauty, almost as much as walking in a hurry. I should take advantage of moments like these to restore it.)
—(Sometimes we high-value women need to make certain sacrifices focused on our health, to put in place that dangerous and natural aesthetic that was granted to us from the moment we were born... Where is that music coming from?)

—(Why are there so many people here? Not even the student council meetings have this many attendees. Could this be the infamous clandestine student council...?)
—(No)
—(Just counting faces, starting from the 3 social outcasts, a calculating and capable girl can realize the mistake of sharing too much air with socially marginalized people. Even if there are 2 or 3 pretty faces among boys and girls, the metrics don't compensate. Cut off. I'm sorry, Kinoko, maybe if you had lowered your tone a couple of notches, I could have heard you. It's not that I'm a villainess that catches the eye, I truly hope that you and your apostles can write the Bible 3 with energy blasters, space battles, and telekinetic celibate monks. But don't count on me. I'll call emergency services if you end up collapsing in less than a minute)

Although Seika's position near the door was discreet, her presence was not. She remained listening and advising, internally, the 3rd-year student on how she should continue with her project if she wanted it to be a success. The presence of dozens of distractions in the club room did not make it easy for Seika to distance herself from the group. She will always deny fixing herself up while watching or listening to hour-long video summaries that, by coincidence, last as long as her sessions. Thus, Seika kept straightening her hair with a serious face until, believing her concept of social invisibility had failed completely, she was hastily pointed out by the leader of the place.

—I haven't seen it. But from the title, it can't be very different from Angry Birds, can it? It's my choice if you want to talk about movies, a fresh and spontaneous one, like me.
—Sometimes, in this high school, you can simply come to identify with or feel like a majestic bird, fighting against rebellious, causeless sows who feel safe by cornering themselves within four walls while sharing others' eggs.
—(Why am I still here?)
—What were we talking about...? Ah, yes, the challenge. I don't have much to object to. Be prudent, Ichinose, you're young, even if you dress like an old woman.

>>10413
—Cute, heart of butter, body of grapefruit, I don't want to be the one to contradict you. But, if you're going to use apps, nothing stops me from asking my trusted AI for a random number and for it to be 3 times 7, mysteriously.
—Subset. Solved with two rolls for each choice.

1-4: Ri, Jhon, The fat one, Bibi, Hotaru
5-8: Rena, The baseball player, Seika, The suicide boy, The Emo
9-12: The Emo, Fatso, Anorexic, Dark albino, Kinoko

1-2: 1st
3-4: 2nd
5-6: 3rd
7-8: 4th
9-10: 5th
11-12: reroll

Objectives:
2d12 = 9
2d12 = 7
2d12 = 7

Action:
1d12 = 3
1d12 = 6
1d12 = 7
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10419 es
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>>10410
>>10409
This roleplay is quality. I liked the OP intro
>I open the Club door wide, and look to both sides just moving my eyes, and then... https://youtu.be/zR0dtcqK0lk There was too much humidity and some dust, it wasn't good for that at all. The bad smells didn't worry me as much, after having the janitor talking to me up close, I had more or less become immune to the stench. I make a quick movement with my head to concentrate and open my eyes to look ahead, and I see this environment.

"....."

https://youtu.be/fCfbZ47G8z8>As I walk slowly forward to look for a seat, my eyes scanned for details in all the decoration of the place, it was... Original. Little by little I stop because this had captured my complete attention. The boards, the decorated cups, the atmosphere made with mortal but passionate hands, there was soul, there was affection, there was spirit, there was... Passion, love in this. In the end, I just stood there with a stupid face looking at everything like that scene from The Incredibles pic, it's been so long since I've seen a place that was made with the soul of its artist, like those old websites that I never got to see, but did research and navigate like those explorers who traveled to ancient Greece, now lost, in search of forgotten temples and ancient civilizations lost in time. Those websites were chaotic, messy, full of things that didn't follow a "pattern" or "Aesthetic Theory", but they were their own, personal, and reflected the soul and creativity of their creator. Well, this lounge reflected that same feeling.

"New.... Adversaries?"

"It must be Greek"

>With that, I approach the free bench and sit on one of them, only to realize that there were more people. Yes, I was so distracted by all the decoration that I had completely forgotten that there were other people.... Quite a few people, actually. I didn't expect it, although it's not like I cared, but it's surprising that there are so many women, this world must be fictional or something. The important thing was that the center table.... Was completely empty. So, while I was rocking, very slightly, in the chair. I think there were about 15 people in the room, but I wasn't really paying attention, I was just rocking, slightly, while now my eyes weren't looking at any particular point, they were just in my mind, and the rocking became a little more... and little by little, more "intense".
the

club

leader

appears

on

the

table

her

voice

starts

resonating

through

a

small

toy

speaker

and

with

nothing

else

to

do

i

just

listen

at

first

i

don

t

really

pay

much

attention

to

her

words

but

then

i

start

paying

much

more

attention

as

the

monologue

enters

my

ears

my

eyes

keep

following

that

slightly

glittering

confetti

until

it

gets

caught

in

her

hair

and

with

that

she

announces

her

book

the

pluto

manifesto

now

available

in

all

bookstores

across

asia

japan

europe

and

america

then

she

ends

her

presentation

just

as

the

music

stops





i

start

clapping

for

her

out

of

nowhere

while

looking

into

her

eyes

and

then

plaff

i

fall

backward

onto

the

floor

because

when

i

let

go

of

the

chair

to

clap

and

keep

rocking

at

the

same

time

i

lose

my

balance

and

topple

over

with

the

chair





after

a

while

i

get

up

holding

the

back

of

my

head

from

the

impact

and

realize

they

are

now

doing

introductions

it

was

simple

name

grade

favorite

movie

of

all

time

and

then

roll

a

die

this

this

was

fun

first

i

watch

some

people

introduce

themselves

then

i

look

around

and

carefully

grab

the

die

so

as

i

shake

my

hand

to

prepare

for

the

roll

i

introduce

myself



my

name

is

shizuku

pretty

lebedeva

i

m

in

first

grade

and

my

favorite

movie

is

maybe

the

adventures

of

baron

munchausen

but

i

have

several



i

point

toward

the

guy

they

were

about

to

ass

suck

professor

k6

and

the

muscular

girl

and

without

giving

them

time

to

react

i

release

the

three

dice

from

my

hand

k7





the

dice

have

spoken



seeing

the

numbers

i

just

smile

and

approach

the

first

one

that

guy

in

bandages

and

with

a

slight

gesture

of

my

finger

i

signal

him

to

turn

around

and

whether

he

obeys

or

not

i

give

him

a

spank

on

the

ass

if

he

resists

i

throw

him

onto

my

lap

and

do

the

deed

such

weird

things

but

they

re

funny

after

spanking

the

guy

i

approach

the

class

professor

and

greet

him

with

a

wave

then

k2

dance

for

fifteen

seconds

my

face

remains

just

as

expressionless

but

my

body

moves

more

than

usual

though

quite

clumsily

trying

to

imitate

elvis

style

yank

dances

after

fifteen

seconds

i

stop

abruptly

and

make

a

bow

with

the

dance

done

i

catch

my

breath

and

now

turn

to

the

largest

girl

in

the

entire

club



i

have

to

give

you

a

massage



where

and

how

do

you

want

it



i

say

while

lifting

my

two

hands

and

opening

and

closing

them

as

my

eyes

move

up

and

down

looking

at

her

and

then

at

my

hands
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>>10415
>But, before I introduce myself, the first one to introduce himself was The Alpha and Omega, a paladin of memetic chance and a high-level dice roller with experience that would leave those offering you an entry-level first job with their jaws on the floor from decades of experience in the field of hyperversal meta-fictional narrative creation and manipulation in such varied fields and genres, content in just under 6 human calendar years, truly a milestone for human minds, Chemelier Verdun Takahara.... god uff uff, I ran out of breath, and that's saying it with my mental voice.

>After almost fainting, I see Chemelier's introduction... what a curious name, and after performing his dice actions, which was to grab one girl's hands and ask the color of the other's panties, he was coming towards me, because I was the last one apparently. I notice his round figure approaching closer and closer, it was funny, but not funny-bad, but funny-good, as it reminded me of that purple cat from Sonic, I think his name was Big the Cat or something. Then, as Chemelier approaches, even closer, to me, I hear him, but quickly my face changes from apathy to one of complete confusion.

"Huh? Gap... moe?"

"I don't know that term."

"But thank you... I guess"

>Genuine words, I had no idea what that meant, but if it was something good, I guess I should be grateful. After that, he leans towards me and asks me what his dice ordered him to do... Eskimo kiss? which apparently consisted of rubbing noses or something like that.

I point to my small nose, and I stand there thinking for a few seconds in silence while looking at the corner of the classroom ceiling.

"....."

"Ah"

"Like.... like Gnomes do?"

"Sounds good"

>I lean in and press my small nose against his, then do a slight nose rub, after that, I pull away and give a very, very clumsy thumbs-up. Now that I think about it, I don't know if an Eskimo kiss is just touching noses, or also rubbing them like gnomes do... I hope I didn't mess up, it doesn't really matter anymore anyway.

"Done"

>Now that I think about it, he smells like cookies.... and onion, what a weird combination.


>>10407 awww kekie cute
https://youtu.be/ohpjvXPF0ZM
El gordo Rainbow Pyrite-ae9b51 No.10421 es
>>10410
Given to see who I bully 1d16 = 15

Given to see how I bully them 1d12 = 7
El gordo Rainbow Pyrite-ae9b51 No.10422 es
>>10421
What are 3 dice, you imbecile 1d16 = 14 1d16 = 5

1d12 = 10 1d12 = 6
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10481 es
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Seika
>>10418
(8,3): Seika 💅👑💁‍♀️
(1,8): Bibi 👧🪄
(10,2): Gorda 🤰🍗

—Oh, it's me. Luck shines upon me, radiant. Setting me a challenge will be difficult, there are very few things I cannot accomplish, simply by being me. For example, res... respecting them and their physical appearances and distinct neurodivergences.
—A self-imposed challenge, out of pure charity. I'm risking my status in this school just for a good deed. Support for new clubs is very important, I'm doing this for you, students with American tendencies.
—Boom boom
—It's not like I want to swing the scope of my popularity, based on your narrative abilities, strangely well-developed. Hohoho... Mfufu

>>10401
—(Delulu)
—(Can I trust that this little girl will write 100 compliments on my social media? Maybe, but not coherent ones. She'll talk about dinosaurs, asteroids, and things like that. And how dinosaurs had a civilization that is currently trying to revive the chicken caste, only held back by a mustachioed colonel.)
—My name is Ijuuin Seika, third year. You look like a neon cherry lollipop wrapped in those robes. What are your sweet childhood dreams and hopes? Come closer and tell me while I help you blow your nose.
—How old are you? Didn't anyone teach you how to put on makeup? Let's talk about maturity.
—(Overflowing with kindness in my first interaction with this group. Where are the cameras when you need them? It accentuates my maternal and brilliant figure)

>>10409
—Oh, I can't, how embarrassing! Do I have to tell you? Don't make me!
—Could you excuse me, my abundant companion? We aren't that close. You know, between friends, women, equal XX humans with no differences.
Seika decided not to hurt sensibilities, even if it meant punishment. The simple denial said a lot. Anyway, the result was going to be the same in any situation whether Seika spoke directly or not to this companion in loud and affectionate fatty content.
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>>10410
I'm using Takahara's list and since I'm number 3, I have to replace myself with him. Leaving things like this 7-1, Whip Rena. 2-7, John Dance. 3-5, Takahara massage

>>10409

>Being one of the first to arrive, the fat man did not sit down. Instead, he decided to hide in a corner of the room for no reason other than just the fun of it. Just as his smell was camouflaged with that of the club room, so was his appearance. Hiding his face among the rest of the cheap masks and costumes that were on display. His skin certainly had the elasticity of rubber from so many rashes he had from head to toe.

<LIFE IS SHIT!

I differ, thinking like that is the same as admitting defeat. You can become an enemy of the world or try to create your own, but you should never surrender to its whims.

>Coming out of hiding to speak, the fat man accidentally knocked over two shelves full of manuals and other role-playing items. Without bothering to collect any of it, he sat down and continued to protest what Ichinose said.
>I actually quite agreed with almost everything he said, with only his first words being the only ones I can't empathize with.

<That's my erotic dice

Are you sure you don't want to keep that die? I even brought mine. If we are going to spend the entire school year together we might as well... "get to know each other in depth"

>From inside his pocket he takes out a sex dice like Ichinose's. Only in his, instead of drawings there are words like lick, suck, bite, etc. Disappointed, he puts it away again, but not before taking a good look at everyone in the room, after talking about how he wants to get to know them in depth.
>Among the entire group, the ones who can feel his gaze the most are Hotaru and the mime student, whom he is practically raping with his gaze.

<will say his name
They call me JACK..............................................................................................
https://youtu.be/EwGb434LWhc?t=22

>He left a long silence after saying his name. Making it seem like there was more after that, but in reality there is nothing.
>His name of the day was literal, just Jack, no last names, or anything. Not even looking at the fake passport he took out would they find any more information than that.

<your grade level

I am currently the Japanese literature teacher, as well as the teacher in charge of this club. Surely more than one of you already knows me.

>For those unfortunate enough to have had him as a teacher, you would know that "Jack" keeps changing his name and identity as much as he changes his underwear. Bad analogy, he doesn't change his underwear. He changes his identity as much as he changes his waifu every time a new anime season comes out.

<and his favorite movie

Workout Muscular Men 3. Many limit themselves to treating it as a simple source of memes, but I firmly maintain that Japanese culture would not be what it is today if it were not for Aniki, Van-sama and other great figures of Gachimuchi.

>>10413

<Hello Mr. Professor of Japanese Literature, were you able to rate that report from last week? I put a lot of effort into my research on the cultural differences of the Kobolds between the East and the West.

Ah, Master Takahara. Your report was definitely an interesting read, although I'm still somewhat against the idea of ​​dividing them into "Easterners and Westerners." As you well explained, the "eastern version" is merely a misinterpretation of the first D&D manuals where they showed them with much more "bestial" features, just as occurs with orcs. In that case, don't you think it would be more correct to refer to them as classic kobolds and modern kobolds?

>Smiling and crossing his legs, the fat man greeted his equally fat student with an upbeat and jovial tone. One of the last works he left for his class was precisely about cultural differences between East and West. Needless to say, Takahara was one of those who put the most effort into this project. However, the fat man (my fat man, not your fat man) was still not completely convinced with what Takahara wrote.

>>10419

Wait, before it starts there is something we need to prepare.>He raised his hand high as Bonita-chan approached him. Quickly reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone and played the Space Dandy song and then started dancing himself along with Bonita-chan. The movements that the teacher made were a perfect copy to the point of looking like a mirror. A very distorted one, one of those at fairs where you look fatter, thinner, or shorter than you are.
>In addition to the obvious difference in the attractiveness of their bodies, there was another that was much more noticeable. That being the expression of the teacher, who enjoyed every second of this short dance like a child. Her joy was such that she continued dancing even after Bonita-chan finished, then turning to >>10400

>>10400

Mistah Jei eM! Lets yes yuu daans!!

>With his belly shaking to the rhythm of the music, the fat man approached Jhon. He snapped his fingers and then pointed at him and spoke to him in very broken English. More than 30 seconds had passed since he was dancing and sweat was beginning to drip from his body. Still, the fat man was not going to stop until the young blonde gave the signal to relegate him in this dance contest.

>>10408

Good morning Rena. I have not received your report yet, remember that if you need private tutoring I am always available for you.

>Whether Jhon joined the dance or not, the fat man would leave him aside to approach the quiet of the room. Being behind his seat, he gave the back of her chair a hard slam with his belly. The force of the impact is enough for Rena to be thrown out of the seat and the moment she does, the fat man takes the opportunity to give her her well-deserved spanking all over her ass.
>Before Rena hit the floor or the table due to the spanking, the fat man caught Rena with one hand on her stomach and put her back to her seat in a "nice" manner. Also giving him a few light taps on the shoulders, while whispering in his ear the last thing he said.

>>10413

Now... only you remain, Mr. Takahara, I ask you to relax your muscles to make this a more enjoyable experience.

>After two of the three challenges imposed by the dice have been met, there is only one last thing left to do. Massage Takahara! Removing the massage lotion he prepared for the director from his bag, the fat man pours a good stream of it onto his hands and slowly approaches Takahara, while letting a lot of the lotion drip onto the floor.
>Without asking or asking permission, the fat man stands behind Takahara, rubs his hands one last time and brings them towards his shoulders. Raising them slowly until they reach his neck and finally his head, where they finally make contact.
>The fat man's bulging and stubby fingers manage to transmit a pleasant sensation to Takahara's skull. As if they were sponges that absorb stress upon contact. Thanks to the lotion she was wearing, her massage also has a stimulating effect. Turning the mere rubbing of your hands into a much more pleasant and comforting experience than it should. Firmly squeezing, he drew circles on Takahara's scalp, tousling it and combing it again over and over again, first slowly and then picking up the pace.
>As the final part of his massage, the fat man focused on the spiky hair that Takahara was wearing in the center of his head. Stimulating it to increase in size as he kneaded the knots formed at the base of it with controlled and calculated movements. All in order to give the greatest possible enjoyment not only for Takahara, but for everyone who was observing that bizarre spectacle.
>Once he finished, the fat man withdrew his hands, took a step back and planted a small kiss on Takahara's neck and then returned to his seat.
Bibi Native Gold-d22657 No.10494 es
Let's see the dice, let's see who I get

1d15 = 3
1d15 = 7
1d15 = 12
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10495 es
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>>10409
Starting in the world of roleplaying
After leaving the bathroom and heading as fast as you could towards your locker to get supplies, Rena headed to the roleplaying club, she had seen it before but was still new to all of this, and the place slightly resembled her own room, so she could feel comfortable even if she was surrounded by people still strange to her

-Upon entering and observing the room carefully, music began to play, and the club president emerged from the closet. Rena just stood there watching her and listening to everything she had to say. Honestly, she shared President Kinoko's point of view, but she wouldn't know how to express herself in the same way she did, she wouldn't know what words to choose and use. In that aspect, she understood why Kinoko held this leadership position, someone who could be admired, someone to follow. These were the thoughts Rena had while witnessing the speech, but something else resonated in her mind. The President Kinoko came out of the closet, is she gay? Rena never understood that metaphor, Rena thought as she took a seat-

>Just as she uttered the last word, the song reached its final note. Kinoko, panting slightly from the effort and hyperactivity, switched off the portable microphone with a sharp click and jumped down from the table, landing with a dull thud that sent a couple of six-sided dice skittering. Her grin of wicked satisfaction returned to her face as she adjusted her glasses.
-Rena could only offer a few light claps for the performance-
>Kinoko: Aha! A twelve came up. The twelve clearly says... "suck his dick while you masturbate him'"

-Well, she already looked like a cult leader, but for her to escalate so quickly to initiating an orgy wasn't something Rena expected. She wasn't thinking about sex and never was interested in it, but if there was a club for it, she supposed she'd be willing to try, although obviously, it was all a slip-up by her president for having an erotic die for some reason... mental note, ask her later if this isn't really a cult-

>>10410
Okay, I don't really know anyone here yet, and I haven't learned most of their names
-while waiting for the president's massage, Rena stands up to introduce herself-
My name is Rena, I'll reserve my last name for personal reasons, I'm in my second year, My favorite movie... uh.... um.... -you stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, a simple question for anyone, but not for you, for an autistic person something so simple could take hours of thought- ...something about time travel like Back to the Future.

And as I said, I don't know you all, well, so I'll limit myself to Katsumi, to President Kinoko herself, and to....-Rena looks for a few seconds at what appears to be a red-haired girl, i.e., Bibi- >>10385 and to her

Dice
Katsumi: 1d12 = 9

Kinoko: 1d12 = 4

Bibi : 1d12 = 12

>>10493
-Rena felt like a wrecking ball hit her. Although the fat guy was being friendly, he ignored the beating the girl had received and how weak she was. And even though the fat guy caught her, Rena wasn't going to let it go like that-
Don't spank me again -she said while squeezing the fat guy's tit. This was a feasible tactic to defend herself from female aggressors, but seeing that this guy had bigger tits than hers, she figured squeezing them would also inflict pain- and have a good day -she said, squeezing it harder and then letting go-
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10496 es
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>>10495
-after seeing the results of her dice rena wasted no time, she stood up, approached Katsumi, the big gorilla who ran away like a coward but at least went to look for her, the dice dictated that she had to reveal a secret, Rena thought for a few seconds and approached the giant to whisper something in her ear... I pushed those who bothered me at my previous school down the stairs - after whispering this, Rena, without giving Katsumi time to process, went to slap President Kinoko-
https://youtu.be/K3FgBR4lsZE?si=ycOe1G1N5Zy-xkTBSLAP!!!
-The sound of the slap echoes loudly throughout the room, Rena doesn't flinch, she waits to have met her president's expectations well, out of respect, rena bows slightly-
.....
-Now only Bibi was left, Rena looks at her thinking of something positive to say to her, so she was just honest-
I like your red hair, you would look good dressed as a witch -Rena makes the peace sign gesture, like in anime, oh should she give a thumbs up? she hopes that gesture counts as something positive, after fulfilling everything she takes her seat again and starts reading the roleplaying manifesto-
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10497 es
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>>10495
-after seeing the results of her dice rena wasted no time, she stood up, approached Katsumi, the big gorilla who ran away like a coward but at least went to look for her, the dice dictated that she had to reveal a secret, Rena thought for a few seconds and approached the giant to whisper something in her ear... I pushed those who bothered me at my previous school down the stairs - after whispering this, Rena, without giving Katsumi time to process, went to slap President Kinoko-
https://youtu.be/K3FgBR4lsZE?si=ycOe1G1N5Zy-xkTBSLAP!!!
-The sound of the slap echoes loudly throughout the room, Rena doesn't flinch, she waits to have met her president's expectations well, out of respect, Rena bows slightly-
.....
-Now only Bibi was left, Rena looks at her thinking of something positive to say, so she was just honest-
I like your red hair, you'd look good dressed as a witch -Rena makes the peace sign gesture, like in anime, oh should she give a thumbs up? she hopes that gesture counts as something positive, after completing everything she returns to her seat and starts reading the roleplaying manifesto-
Loremaster Euclase-b25610 No.10498 es
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>>10413
>>10414
>>10415
Kinoko: Of course! I don't believe in monetizing art like that, so if you're going to make copies, don't sell them! Give them away, Takahara-dono! Just like Christ with his apostles at Pentecost—spread my word across all of Kamome!

>She raises her thumb with tremendous force, blessing him to make as many copies as he wants; she only wants people to read it. The chubby girl with glasses adjusted her skirt with obvious discomfort, her cheeks tinged a soft crimson as she fidgeted her fingers, displaying a mix of politeness and absolute nervousness at the unexpected question about her underwear.

Chubby girl: U-Uh… good afternoon, Takahara-san. I'm sorry to disappoint your… expectations about roleplay, but actually, I'm not wearing panties today. I'm wearing these dark blue athletic shorts you can see right under my skirt. Regular panties tend to ride up too much and give me a terrible wedgie when I sit for long hours playing… I hope knowing they're blue shorts made you happy and helps with the session's statistics.

>Kinoko, sitting on a nearby table with her legs crossed and an energy drink can in hand, burst out into loud laughter upon hearing the response, applauding the new recruit's honesty with uneven claps.

>Takahara's attention then shifted to Hotaru. Feeling the direct physical contact, the small student reacted instantly with a violent flinch, eyes snapping wide open. Her entire body tensed up completely, perfectly mirroring the body language of a victim cornered in a slasher film, desperately searching for an escape route with her eyes. However, upon realizing she was trapped in her own seat and that the veteran's massive frame blocked any decent exit, her shoulders slumped into silent surrender. She accepted her tragic fate. As the massage continued, a series of involuntary, silent gag reflexes shook her throat, forcing her to regulate her breathing so as not to lose composure right there. Despite her obvious suffering, her hand turned out to be the softest, smoothest, most delicate skin Takahara had ever touched—almost like fine porcelain, contrasting sharply with the crudeness of the moment.

>The moment Takahara withdrew his hand, Hotaru quickly slid sideways, seeking immediate refuge. She threw herself into the arms of her friend with the witch's hat, clutching tightly to her clothes as a visible tremor shook her entire body.

Hotaru: The fat man eats me... the fat man eats me... the fat man eats me...
>Her voice was a broken, monotonous whisper, repeating the phrase over and over with a vacant stare and clear signs of severe, newly acquired psychological trauma. The witch-hatted friend wrapped her arms around her, giving Takahara a look of absolute reproach and bewilderment. It was clear the veteran hadn't gotten off to a good start with the club's youngest member.

>>10417
>>10418
>>10481
>The president had frozen, staring at her with a gaze so sharp and piercing it seemed like a real dagger. Her face showed an expression that danced between perverted, foolish, and deeply hypnotized by the divine beauty of the golden girl. Kinoko's fascination was so immense that, completely oblivious to human dignity, she began to drool grotesquely, forming strings of saliva that dripped from the corners of her lips like a Saint Bernard on a hot summer day.

>Suddenly, a spasm of lucidity shook the president's body. Kinoko snapped out of her mystical trance, tilted her head sharply to the side, and with a wet, frankly unpleasant sound, slurped all the accumulated saliva in one go. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she fixed her hyperactive eyes on Seika and let out an exclamatory response that broke the thread of the previous conversation.

Kinoko: If I were a bird, you would undoubtedly be a cuckoo! Mind you, I said cuckoo, not cuck, damn it! And I'd be a cuckoo for the brilliant and masterful strategy of stealing others' nests so they can raise your eggs, protecting them from all the rebellious and sinful bitches crawling the halls of this concrete prison called Kamome. It's a perfect move! I dump my parental responsibilities onto other mundane birds and just enjoy life. But anyway... speaking of dirty deeds and deliciously shady things... Muahahahaha!

>She began to let out a series of nasal laughs, a sequence of short, weird, and extremely creepy snorts that echoed off the salon walls. The president's energy immediately shifted to a much more chaotic mode; the invisible dice of fate had spoken and demanded that the newcomer undergo an initiation test worthy of the club. Without warning, Kinoko advanced with quick, clumsy steps towards Seika, dropping to her knees directly in front of her, shattering any notion of personal space. With wide-open eyes, she pointed her index finger at her own face and shouted to the heavens, seeking to have all present witness the moment.
Kinoko: I formally challenge you to look at me with the utmost contempt your soul can muster and hurl at me the most humiliating, vulgar, and hedonistic insult you can think of. Do it, do it now! Ah, damn my luck! I regret so much not stopping to buy a coffee before coming in, because I swear by the first-edition manuals I would've asked you to spit into the cup so I could drink it blessed—but that’ll definitely have to wait for our next session!

>The president let out that shrill, strange laugh again, running her tongue over her dry lips with sick anticipation. Kinoko’s breathing began to grow noticeably heavy, rapid, and erratic. It was clear that the mere expectation of being treated with cruelty and arrogance by the untouchable golden girl of the high school was triggering a masochistic psychological delight she could barely contain. With her face lifted, eyes locked on the blonde’s lips, eagerly awaiting her annihilating gaze and cutting words, the president remained motionless, marking the end of her turn.

Kinoko: Of course you can do it! You're a high-born girl! You love looking down on everyone from your pedestal, don't you? Do it to me! I want to be obliterated by your princess-worthy arrogance!

>>10419
>The first target was the small black-haired boy, wrapped in bandages from head to toe. When he noticed the imposing shadow of the silver-haired girl falling over his tiny frame—barely one meter fifty-eight—he widened his eyes in fear at her sudden closeness. Sensing her intentions, he began frantically waving his hands in front of his face, clumsily stumbling backward in a futile attempt to protect himself.

Black-haired boy: No, wait, please! Anything but that! Don’t spank my little butt, I beg you! I’ll resist with all my strength, I swear!

>The boy put up all the resistance he could, but his strength was ridiculously weak. Lebedeve subdued him without the slightest physical effort, lifting him off the ground like a ragdoll and placing him face-down across her lap, mimicking the classic posture for disciplining a naughty child. The boy didn’t give in immediately; he started writhing chaotically, kicking and squirming like a worm trapped in a puddle of salt. However, the very instant the first slap landed with a sharp crack, the boy abruptly calmed down. All tension magically left his muscles, leaving him completely stiff and utterly silent across the girl’s lap.
>When lifted from Shizuku's lap, the boy quickly got to his feet, adjusting his clothes while staring at her with a genuinely surprised expression and cheeks tinged with a faint blush. His eyes showed a mix of astonishment and shyness before he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

Black-haired boy: S-Sorry... I'm really, really sorry for freaking out like that for no reason. I just got completely overwhelmed by fear. But... well, looks like I'm completely immune to getting hit by others now, thanks to my parents. It's funny—my dad always gets super violent and breaks stuff whenever his favorite baseball team loses, and my mom does exactly the same thing every time she drinks alcohol... and well, she's always drinking alcohol, all the time. But it's fine, doesn't hurt anymore.

>The black-haired boy made a perfect ninety-degree bow, keeping his head lowered as a sign of respect while patiently waiting for the tall girl with light-colored eyes to forgive him.

>Without wasting any time, Bonita-chan headed straight for the next corner of the abandoned room, where Katsumi was standing. Upon reaching her, Lebedeve stared intently and, in a calm but direct voice, explained that fate demanded she give her a mandatory massage, immediately asking which body part she preferred and under what exact method it should be performed.

>Hearing such a direct proposal, the gigantic Katsumi reacted instantly. She completely covered her face with her large, weathered hands, trying to hide how an intense red flush rapidly spread from her neck to the tips of her ears due to the overwhelming collective embarrassment she felt. It was extremely comical to see such a massive, muscular giant behaving in such an exaggeratedly timid way over a simple request. After a few seconds of silence, Katsumi slightly parted her fingers to glance at Shizuku, replying in a trembling voice that betrayed extreme nervousness.

Katsumi: A-A massage...? Goodness... If I really have to choose, then please... do it on the back of my knees, right on the tendons in the popliteal fossa... B-But I beg you to be extremely careful with me, okay? It's just... this is my first time doing something like this with someone in a room... Please treat me well!

>She spoke in such a slow, solemn tone, overflowing with innocence, that the connotation of her words inevitably brought to mind a virgin girl surrendering herself for the first time in an intimate encounter. The giant slowly lowered her hands, fixing her gaze full of anguish directly onto Bonita-chan's fingers, anticipating with both fear and excitement the physical contact.
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>>10420
>>10415
>The sound of someone taking a photograph can be heard. Let's remember that Japanese law requires cell phones to make loud noises for photos! Precisely for people like Kinoko! Who takes a picture of the moment they both press their noses together in a "cute" eskimo kiss, which she will milk for all it's worth.

Kinoko: Heh... I'm posting this on eporner with the tag #ugly_bastard! Did you know that the JAV industry has ugly porn actors because they know the average consumer will feel more identified with them, unlike the American market which only uses super muscular models?! That's a good fact from their president.

>>10420
>Without losing a second, the hyperactive president quickly slid over to where the young platinum-haired woman was. With an exaggerated movement, she took Lebedeve's hand in hers and leaned down to plant a kiss directly on the back of it with her moist, warm, and slightly sticky feminine lips, trying to give her a personal welcome to the club in a way she considered extremely chivalrous and worthy of a light novel prince.

>She let out a mischievous giggle and, taking advantage of the physical contact, moved even closer to Shizuku, completely invading her personal space. She stretched her neck until her mouth was a few millimeters from the girl's ear, so close that the silver-haired student could feel the president's heavy, hot, and almost asthmatic breath hitting her skin directly. It was in this intimate and bizarre whisper that Kinoko began to unleash her lengthy compliment.

Kinoko: Hehehe! You know, my dear Lebedeve, it is extremely egocentric and insolent of you to call yourself "Pretty-chan" in my eyes... but damn it, I love that audacity! Let me tell you, you're underselling yourself, because you are a true walking work of art. Just look at that killer body you've got, those dangerous curves that would make any perverted mangaka lose their marbles! And that silver hair... oh, by the gods of the metaverse! It's as if stardust itself had fallen upon your head, a shade so mystical, geeky, and sensual that it makes me want to lick it to see if it tastes like space cotton candy. You are a goddess of simulation, welcome to my kingdom!

>>10493
>Kinoko slid across the floor, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She stood before the teacher with a cat-like smile overflowing with energy.
Kinoko: Professor Calzoncillos Locos! My dearest, obese, glorious guardian of forbidden narrative! You have no idea what a tremendous literary orgasm it gives me to see your imposing, unkempt figure presiding over this temple of dice-fueled vice! Seriously, thank you so much for agreeing to be the official supervisor of this madhouse of lunatics!

>The president let out a shrill laugh, playfully slapping the teacher's bulging stomach with her palm, showing not a shred of respect for authority.

Kinoko: God, last year was a fucking apocalypse with Professor Obolensky in charge! That Russian guy had the temper of a rabid Siberian bear. He nearly beat a parent of one of our former members to death right there in the parking lot—just because the old puritan read our game log! We were only roleplaying a bizarre dark fantasy campaign where the tentacled creature of Chaos captured his paladin, melted her armor off with acidic saliva, and proceeded to perform a bizarre, erotic, ritualistic
Kinoko: Listen carefully, my depraved professor, I want to make a high-level business deal with you. If you help me become our official human shield and representative before the board of directors, the puritan parents' assembly, and that nest of crows known as the disciplinary committee, I guarantee you rewards of the highest value on the student black market. I can get you firsthand the used, fully sweat-soaked panties of the most muscular members of the sumo club—pure essence of testosterone and effort! And on top of that, I have on my hard drive certain indecent videos of Principal Kuragane in a sleazy motel with, and listen closely—STUDENTS! They'll be perfect for blackmailing that gorilla in a suit. What do you say?

>The president frowned, letting out a frustrated snort as she recalled her political enemies within the school.

Kinoko: All this humble servant desires is proper representation within the high school's structure to avoid last year's disasters. They banned us from the club festival and the disciplinary committee raided us three times a week! All because of that damn bitch Saigusa... The student council president has it out for me; she's got a sick obsession with me. Though, to be honest, I don't hold a grudge—actually, every time I see her, I get this wild urge to corner her against the wall, shove my hand under her blouse, and squeeze her tits hard until milk squirts out like she's a sacred cow. It would be glorious!

>She let out a silly giggle, but quickly her face darkened in a strangely possessive way. She rose onto her tiptoes, stretching her neck until she was mere millimeters from Jack's ear. The heat of her breath, faintly smelling of energy drink, struck the professor's skin as her words turned into a thick whisper, dripping with shameless perversion.

Kinoko: Have all the fun you want in this club, professor... but I warn you, you must keep your distance from the girls here. They're my personal prey, especially Seika-chan, Rena-chan, and Bonita-chan. You have no idea the filthy, degenerate, and wonderful things I plan to do to them during our nightly sessions under the sheets. I want to shatter their innocence, bind them with old console controller cables, drench them in sweat, and use them as my personal dice slaves until they forget their own names in this dirty reality...

>The president abruptly stepped back, instantly restoring her bright, hyperactive smile as if nothing had happened. She extended her right hand toward the professor, palm open, waiting for a pact.
Kinoko Ichinose: So you know, Panties-san. As the two apex predators of this territory, there's a golden rule we must respect: don't mess with each other's prey! Do we have a deal, you horny beasts?

>>10495
>>10497
>>10496
>After seeing the result of the interaction dice, she began to hop with pure euphoria. Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses as a string of drool escaped the corner of her mouth, emitting strange gasps and nasal noises that denoted a disturbing excitement.

Kinoko: Yes, yes! The fate of the polyhedrons has spoken! Come on, Rena, put me in my place! Slap me with all your might, leave my cheek red! Don't worry about my glasses, break them if you have to, I have ten identical pairs saved just for when a cute girl decides to use me as a punching bag! Make me yours through the sacred pain of roleplay! Muahahaha!

>She receives the slap and instead of making a face of shock or pain like in that beautiful image, the president lets out a moan worthy of a kitten and covers her crotch as if trying to hide an erection.

>A few steps away, Katsumi contemplated the scene with a blush that devoured her cheeks. The size difference with Rena was so ridiculous that the giant barely fit in her seat; her enormous ass completely overflowed the edges of the fragile folding chair, which creaked begging for mercy. She should use two chairs, definitely. Letting out a sigh full of shyness, the amazon lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers before speaking in a trembling but determined tone.

Katsumi: Th-This... I'll keep your secret to the grave, Rena... you can whisper it in my ear. Although... if those delinquents from before corner me or threaten me... I don't promise anything, I'm terrible under pressure...

>Suddenly, Katsumi stood up with immense strength. Without warning, she firmly grabbed Rena by the hips and lifted her into the air as if she were a rag doll, bringing her to her face level. Gently, she brought her own ear close to Rena's lips, waiting for the coveted secret in such a compromising position.

>Meanwhile, to the side of the room, the continuous click of a camera broke the air. Kinoko was crouched down, frantically taking photos from the worst possible angles, letting out nasal moans of pure geeky perversion.

Kinoko: Oh, by the anime gods! This is identical to that underground +18 video I saw last week! Keep it up, the narrative is reaching absolute climax levels!

>Suddenly Rena lets out a secret that at first glance doesn't seem like a big deal to the giant, who looks at her like, Is that all? Although she asks a natural question, earnestly hoping to hear the affirmation from the girl with autism.

Katsumi: And... A-Are they okay?
Rolero Turquoise-17c950 No.10500 es
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>>10409
>>10410

>JM

>When he was somewhat animated, you could see him with his head held high, but since his suspicions took over him, his posture became hunched, his eyes narrowed more, and it was only a matter of time before he let out a yawn; thinking too much wasn't his strong suit, his maximum reasoning time was approximately one minute, at least that's what he thinks.
>Still, he didn't stop. The glint of the sun, which imbued the walls with the color of flame, bore witness to the blonde's steps that echoed in the hallway along with the rustling of dry leaves.
>Having traversed said almost eternal path, only the last wall separating Jhon from his maiden remained to be crossed.
>However, very close to opening it, a smell could be detected, one so distant and alien to what he was accustomed to, he couldn't describe it, but if he tried to communicate an idea, it would be like combining the scent of new clothes stored with a kind of stench of candy, but even so, the blonde wasn't convinced, it was indescribable.

"A-Ah..."

>His lips parted slightly, his eyes turned to stone in fractions of a second at every detail he observed.
>As he suspected, there were no computers to play RPG games, but it didn't look like a club either.

("Did I get it wrong or was it another place?")

>By the number of dice, he would judge that the abandoned classroom was used for gambling, but the only thing stopping him from believing so was the content of the blackboard and all the unconventional decorations.
>The only thing that snapped Jhon out of his trance was the lively welcome from >>10413, whose proportions would have earned the stares of all the students present, if there were cardiologists or nutritionists nearby, their eyes would be more than agonizing trying to process why said student was still alive.

"Hey crack, what's up."

>He blurted out without thinking twice, it was that or keep standing like an idiot from the shock, but because of that, he ran out of ways to escape the classroom without the fat guy misinterpreting him, getting offended, and canceling him on Twitter for being fatphobic or something of that nature.
>Trying not to show displeasure, he sits next to the one who greeted him. Back to the front, his elbows on the table and his hands covering his face.

("Where the hell have I gotten myself into?")

>Besides not having RPG games, the girl he was looking for didn't seem to be present.
>If Mei had huge pillows, her older sister must, or rather, it was mandatory that she possess those features, after all, they are family. Masses, mattresses of flesh, as wide and soft as clouds... wide, wide, wide...

("Could it be that-?!")
>An impulse drives Miller to uncover his face, turning it toward that thickly-built girl. The boy's eyes were wide, as if staring at a full moon, fixed on the four-eyes while in his mind "broad" echoed like a reverberation in a cavern.

("Nah... it can't be, there's no way it's true.")

>He shifts his gaze back to the table.

("Relax, she'll be here soon.")

>Once again, his misery strikes him on this terrible day, and worst of all, that crazy Ichinose keeps reminding him, unconsciously provoking the blonde to clench his fist in frustration.
>At first, Miller thinks it's a joke, but as he listens to each word spoken with serious intensity and emotion, his perception of Kinoko shifts slightly—he begins accepting some of her ideas, like freedom or downplaying the importance of labels. Nevertheless, the blonde couldn't afford to stay in the club if it meant losing the little, practically nonexistent, social status he had left.
>As time passed, he felt as if ice had been poured down his spine upon witnessing that so-called erotic game. The fact that the president could force anyone to participate only made it worse. The calm facade he struggled so hard to maintain was slowly cracking apart.
>After a few minutes, it was time for introductions, and still no sign of Mei's sister.

("That little voice before we parted... she must've given me hope to get me stuck in this.")

>Regardless of the blonde's logic, the world keeps turning—and so does the club.
>When >>10413's cheerful voice snaps him back to reality, he watches her presentation with close attention. Given how things work here, the blonde has no choice but to go along and use the dice in the president's proposed mechanics if he wants to survive the club.

("Hey!")

>Contemplating the power of mememagic the dice, Miller's interest begins to grow enormously. All those actions he could perform were now within reach of a single roll—kisses, spankings, massages wherever he wanted, with no complaints. He was fascinated, and as he looked around, he noticed several beauties he could indulge his desire to touch asses or grope breasts on.

>He suddenly jumps up from the table, pointing at himself with his thumb.

"Listen up, everyone! Pay attention! I'm John Miller, first year, and I've got things to share."

>He points at >>10418, >>10494, and >>10419.

"Yeah, and you better pay close attention, huh..."

>With a mischievous grin, eyes closed and face tilted sideways at an angle nearly toward the ceiling, the blonde throws the dice.

Blonde: 1d12 = 2
Bibi: 1d12 = 2
Bonita-chan: 1d12 = 2
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>>10500
>3 of 3
Kinoko: WHAT DO MY IMPURE EYES SEE?! THREE THREES IN A ROW?! The cosmos has aligned its most perverted stars to bless this table with the holiest trinity of structural groping! This is no longer chance, this is a divine prophecy of lust, muajajaja! Prepare yourselves, my dear victims, because destiny has decreed that today the resistance of those armors will be tested triple and consecutively, and I never defy the sacred will of the dice! Make way, because I'm coming with my hands ready for combat! I'll answer the rest tomorrow.
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The Manifesto of Absolute Evasion: A Manual Against the Tyranny of Reality
Written by: Kinoko Ichinose

Chapter I: Role-Playing as a Doctrine of Liberation and the Great Collective Escape

Objective reality is, by definition and design, a dead end for our generation. We were born with dead illusions, heirs to a ruined landscape that we did not destroy, but that we are demanded to rebuild with tied hands and a submissive smile on our faces. We are bombarded daily with the imperative to "be someone" in a system that only values us if we are perfectly oiled gears in its production and consumption machinery. They demand we adapt to a plastic, superficial, and sick modernity. Faced with this invisible but suffocating tyranny, most opt for apathy, submission, or silent self-destruction. I propose insurrection. An insurrection that does not need firearms or bloody revolutions that end up replicating the same mistakes of the past, but something much more dangerous to the status quo: unleashed imagination.

Classic role-playing is not a simple pastime to fill the Saturday afternoons of those who don't fit into its aesthetic and social molds. Role-playing is, in its purest and most elevated state, the greatest tool of social liberation ever conceived by the human mind. It is an act of absolute sabotage against reality. By sitting around a table, armed only with sheets of paper, worn pencils, and plastic polyhedrons that defy physical gravity through chance, we are declaring secession from their gray world. We are founding, even if only for a few hours, a sovereign republic of fantasy where their economic laws, their social hierarchies, and their biological prejudices have no power over us.

Modernity classifies and condemns us from birth. It tells you that if you are fat, if you are ugly, if you have a brain that processes information differently, if your skin color doesn't fit the aesthetic norm of this stale country, or if shyness simply paralyzes your throat, you are destined for the margins of the social garbage dump. They force you to carry the weight of your own flesh as if it were a life sentence. Role-playing destroys that sentence. Through the creation and interpretation of a character, we perform an act of alchemical transmutation. In the role-playing game, the limitations that the world imposes on you dissolve completely. It is not a crude disguise to hide in shame; it is about unearthing the truth within you that society forbids you to express.

Here, the social outcast becomes the eloquent bard whose voice inspires armies and appeases dragons. The girl who avoids glances in the high school hallways to avoid judgment transforms into the bold rogue who walks in the shadows, evading the traps of the most greedy kings. The boy who fears his own future rises as the unwavering paladin who holds his shield against the abyss. This is the great magic of role-playing: we interact, laugh, and build not for what the world says we are, but for who we decide to be in that precise moment. In front of the game master's screen, superficiality dies. We don't care about your academic record, your socioeconomic status, or your physical appearance. We care about the nobility of your decisions, the audacity of your plans, and the passion you put into every saving throw. We connect from the core of our creative souls, forging bonds of true camaraderie that ties of blood or social convenience can never match.
I have walked this path for years. I have been the spiritual guide for countless lost souls who arrived at my table with dull eyes, crushed by the weight of others' expectations, and who left as legends of worlds only we could see. I have seen people who could barely articulate a word deliver speeches that would have made the philosophers of ancient Greece weep. I have witnessed epic battles fought entirely in the sacred space of our collective mind, where the tension was so real and tangible that you could swear the air in the room smelled of ozone and tempered steel.

Roleplaying is a collective and sacred art. It is the last frontier of living literature, a constant love letter to the human capacity for daydreaming. Together, with no other pretense than the joy of pure creation, we weave plots that would make the established writers of commercial modernity pale. We create situations of such absurd and brilliant comedy that the laughter is etched into the walls of this club like an eternal echo against sadness. We live tragedies so profound and beautiful that they teach us to process our own real pains through the sacrifice of a paper hero. What is daily life compared to this? A desert of monotonous routines where each day is a faded copy of the previous one. Instead, at the roleplaying table, each session is a blank canvas full of infinite possibilities.

We have died in dark pits devoured by ancient horrors, we have conquered celestial empires, we have failed miserably due to a damned "natural 1" on the twenty-sided die, and we have laughed at our own misfortune with chests puffed out with pride. We have lived a thousand extraordinary lives in the body of a single biological existence. We have stolen time from time and meaning from the void. It is wonderful how a handful of numbers scribbled in pencil and a passionate description of a fictional landscape can make our hearts beat stronger than any stimulus that real life tries to sell us. To enjoy this hobby with people who vibrate on the same frequency as you, who understand the value of a heroic sacrifice or the grace of a ridiculously improvised plan, is the greatest fortune we can aspire to in this corner of the universe. Roleplaying is not just a game; it is the air we breathe so as not to drown in its asphalt.

Perhaps, to an external and pragmatic observer, seeing a group of young people clinging to colorful dice and imaginary stories might seem sad. Perhaps they think it is pathetic to take refuge in a role to escape a world we cannot change. It depends on who reads it, I suppose. For me, and for anyone who has felt the magic of a shared story, there is no sadness in choosing freedom. While they slowly drown in their perfect reality of plastic and obligations, we will have been free, we will have been kings, we will have been eternal in our own legends.

To the slave of the system, we will be a group of pathetic fools wasting time. But for us, the outcasts, the broken ones, those who know that this world has no worthy place for our souls, this notebook and this club are salvation. Let them say what they want. Let them call us cowards for evading. We know the truth..

READ CHAPTER 2! I KNOW YOU GOT HOOKED!
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Seika
>>10498
—(Oh, so it was one of these. I don't think it will ever cease to amaze me how God, Buddha, or whoever is in charge, arranges the brains of the most unfortunate women. I'm glad I don't share your fate, Ichinose. I mean, what prescription are your glasses? The idea of eyelids with phimosis never crossed my mind.)
—I agree with you, it suits you to be a freak. Is that what your style is based on? Or am I just giving you more credit than you actually deserve?
—I only said rebellious sow, not that they are sinful or disturbing... I'm sorry. Suddenly I feel like you're not someone I want to hear from.
—(She'll jump to the ceiling if I say balls, chickens, and dicks. The only one who needs to be careful is you, queen.)
—Feathered animals or dirty ranch creatures. They are not light.

—(So this is the reality of the role-playing club. Its leader is a delusional woman without pride, it doesn't surprise me that their recruitment failed last year, beyond the incidents. A ticking time bomb. Is there any hope for this club to prosper? Considering the profiles and that whoever wants to lead it also has to deal with Ichinose, most likely not.)
—I don't know you. Do you expect me to say something hurtful just by guessing? I need context on what is painful for you or what you prefer to avoid mentioning. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to find out the content of your heart, or some nonsense like that. It's clear I can't insult your appearance, because it doesn't seem like even you care about it. And regarding the role-playing, I'm supposed to be in a small charity campaign...
—From now on, I will carefully ensure that I eliminate every possible genetic trace I might leave in this room. Thanks for the heads-up.
—(Exhausting. It's clear that fate did something weird and a man's sick mind ended up in her unattractive body. Better not to provoke her.)
—Yeah, whatever.
—Big-eyed, battered bitch.

>>10500
—(Triples. You have to be kidding me...)
—I'm Ijuuin Seika, you silly creature. I don't care what those stupid dice say, if you dare to get fresh with me, I have an army of admirers who will make your life impossible for the rest of your school life.
—Two seconds of lust or your dignity and image battered indefinitely, choose. Don't be foolish.

[File omitted due to size (>10MB): 5498536af5c1bf6d0f77a4307292d160e6c6a7202a3d0e95ddb2b97e3353a9fd.png]
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>>10500
>>10501
>JM

>The sound of the dice was pure symphony. There was no need to question the results, Miller from the beginning knew that the mememagia luck was on his side, it was a kind of reward for all the misery of today.
>The president vociferated like a football fanatic seeing her country win the world cup, which fueled Jhon and his victory.
>His eyes opened and closed in unison in seconds, and, just as Kinoko Ichinose prayed; three threes in a row. It wasn't what the blonde expected, but at this moment, his mind, which has been carrying the weight of much pornography consumed, was depravely creative.
>Generally the dessert is served at the end, but Miller was going to make an exception. The fact that >>10503 has opened his mouth didn't do anything but provoke him, and although his warning was a typical one that Jhon had to learn to respect the hard way thanks to a night where he received a beating of the sort in one of his many attempts to conquer girls, today was not a normal day; the dice have spoken and no one would deny it.
>The more the blonde pointed, the more Jhon's face went towards the ground and his spine twisted.
>Miller emitted micro-laughing and a smile that turned increasingly perverse.

"Ejejeje, wait a second precious, the dessert is saved for the end, but since you insist."

>And immediately plants his face towards the blonde, ignoring >>10493 who just notices him among all the tension, he'll be sweating, but there are priorities.

"By the way president, why did you make us fill out our fears in the forms?, and is it correct that there's no specific way to smell the neck, ehhh? It's not indicated, and just wondering, jijijiji..."

>He asked with his voice intentionally high-pitched and deep, and, to top it off, he points with his index finger to Seika to come closer to him.
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>>10499
consequences of the dice
For Rena this was her way of introducing herself as dictated by the president's rule, but it was the mememagic of the dice speaking without her yet knowing of said mememagic

>Kinoko: Yes, yes! The fate of the polyhedrons has spoken! Come on, Rena, put me in my place! Slap me with all your might, leave my cheek red! Don't worry about my glasses, break them if necessary, I have ten identical pairs saved just for when a cute girl decides to use me as a punching bag! Make me yours through the sacred pain of the role! Muahahaha!

-After slapping the president hard, Rena noticed how her action generated some excitement in the president, or at least that's how girls reacted in anime, could she be one of those perverts? the young woman thought, the masochistic act after receiving a slap, the erotic dice, and coming out of the closet, Rena doesn't judge but would still be doubtful, it would be up to the president to put panties on her head to confirm what she thought-

>Suddenly, Katsumi stood up with immense strength. Without warning, she firmly grasped Rena by the hips and lifted her into the air as if she were a rag doll, bringing her to her face. Gently, she brought her own ear towards Rena's lips, awaiting the longed-for secret in such a compromising position.
-After whispering the secret as dictated by the dice, Katsumi grabbed Rena and lifted her as if a girl were lifting a kitten, and the president took the opportunity to take photos while saying she saw an underground porn video, confirming your previous suspicions-

>Katsumi: And... A-Are they okay?
-Rena just looks Katsumi in the eyes, their gazes intertwine, there is silence, time seems to freeze for both for a few seconds, the atmosphere becomes tense, Rena, being lifted, was backlit, now she had a shadow on her face, but that didn't stop Katsumi from noticing it, a small grimace on the autist's expressionless face, a small but almost imperceptible smile, she didn't need words, that small gesture said it all, or did it? it was open to interpretation to think the worst, Katsumi could understand it well and think of the answer herself, but Rena responded by telling her something-
....Can you put me down? or I'll squeeze a breast like the fat guy, and surely the president will take photos of that, which is not convenient for either of us
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>>10413
>Takahara in different time spaces

Oh, I forgot, my favorite movie is Child's Play 2, the Chucky one, for the larperos, just so we’re clear

>>10418
So starved for real female affection that he interpreted that as a compliment. But what shocks him isn't just the analogy the blonde girl made—it's that she surpassed the physical limitations of the roleplay tools, leaving him flat on the ground. He'd been outroleplayed, and by a newbie no less.

I-I wouldn't agree with that AI analogy, b-but... I can't believe it. A rookie just put me in my place by using the dice more creatively than I did.

>He lowers his head in embarrassment

I'm shocked and embarrassed... but I'm happy too. This club already has incredible members, and it's only our first meeting!

>>10420
Yes, Gap moe! You're capable of showing immense sweetness despite your behavior and/or appearance not traditionally reflecting that. It's so exotic to witness firsthand.

<"My... nose?"

Yes, the nose, like gnomes, yes yes.

>Takahara's upturned nose makes contact with Bonita-chan, quickly rubbing against it, savoring every millisecond of contact.

Thank you so much for granting me this honor. I'll never forget this experience, hehe...

>He has to wipe the drool forming at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.
>>10493
<I disagree.

That's true too—the Literature teacher is also spitting facts!

>But before that, chronologically before the introductions, they had a chat, or did they? Who knows.

Yes, for a moment I considered expanding more on that aspect, but since those cultural differences have persisted up to today, I ultimately decided to keep the definitions of 'East' and 'West'. Maybe if, in the last 15–20 years, those differences had started to disappear or the concepts had begun to homogenize in some way, I would've gone with a classification of 'Modern' vs 'Current'. What do you think?

>The fat one (mine) accepts the professor's points for the assignment but remains firm in his presented analysis.

>Later, Takahara watches with starry eyes the dynamic dance of the professor and Bonita-chan. If only he could dance without tripping, and knew something other than the default dance or Haruhi Suzumiya's dance.

>Then it's his turn. He becomes the victim of Literatura-Sensei, who offers a massage to his big head.

O-Ok, sensei... I don't have much muscle anyway, hehe.

>He begins receiving a massage with extremely NSFW overtones, totally inappropriate for a chan as Christian as himself. Yet, Taka feels a strange pleasure in his skull unlike anything he's ever experienced—his hair even levels up into a sharper spike.

Oh, even my hairstyle... Thank you, sensei—

>The fat one (the other one) finishes and kisses him on the neck, leaving Takahara utterly stunned. He didn't say "no homo"—this violated the bro code and was a homo act! Was this how idols felt when they were creeped on by 60-year-old loners? Takahara has a lot to think about now.
>>10496

I can't believe this level of violence, spankings, slaps, girl-on-girl action, it's like watching a doujin or the new edition of a yuri manga magazine!

>There was material of all kinds for all tastes, this club was incredible

>>10498
I WILL DO IT PRESIDENTA, THE ART OF THE ROLER MUST BE MASS-PRODUCED!

>Now we were back to the important part, dice and questions and we skipped to when I ask the chubby girl about her underwear

I see, I see...

>I thoughtfully and philosophically rest my hand on one of her many chins

That fits quite well with the first impression, my assumptions seemed correct, but confirmation helps the development of this session, I hope we get along well in all future role-playing sessions!

>Then it was the little blue one's turn to receive trauma

Wow Hotaru-chan... I've never felt skin as soft as yours, you have such cute taaan~ hehe

>The fat guy is enjoying it, the best part is that Hotaru looked disgusted, but not as much as the last woman he touched! It was on a summer day during the sports event a year ago, at his other school, where the classmate he touched was forced to do a three-legged race with him and vomited from the tremendous disgust as soon as they made physical contact. Compared to that, this was a 350% improvement.

You're very qt Hotaru-chan, I hope we can get along very well during our time in the club!

>Whether Takahara was playing dumb or was genuinely dumb is up to the viewer
>>10499
>After also witnessing the incredible dominance of boni-chan over the bandaged little guy, which would surely make her a high-value female in some shotacon manga, he is caught with a photo and all during his intimate contact with the silver-haired one

What? I'm not an Ugly Bastard! I may be a pig, but not a hog, I would never do those kinds of unpleasant and reprehensible activities that one of those specimens would do.

>Press X to doubt

A-A-Also, if my dad saw that photo, he would beat me up, and then my grandmother would beat him up, and then my father would beat me up twice as hard for the beating my grandmother gave him, Don't expose me, presidenta, please!

>Ignoring the retroactive changes these events might cause, he continues as a spectator of all the questionable comments and promises the presidenta makes, to which he could only react by nodding like "Makes sense, she's a true roler"

>>10500
No, my companion, you are the crack, the boss, the machine! for having attended this sacred meeting, like all the others present, you have my thousand thanks.

>After that, the unthinkable happens, triple three, 3x3

I can't believe it, a true magical meme miracle from the gods of chance!... c-could it be that our friend Jhon is the roler chosen by the heavens?

>He didn't even know what he had just said meant, but it sounded appropriate for such an event
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They will notice that I will start using pink writing halfway through the text, and it's because I forgot that it could be used

>>10409
>My face kept deforming more and more as I saw what I was seeing, I didn't know whether to feel fear, admiration, want to flee, or something similar, I only knew that I had probably gotten myself into some kind of strange, fun cult because it seems to be, and even more so with the truths they tell.

“Life is shit…”

>I am left thinking at such an incredible speech that it made my hair stand on end with so much emotion, to the point that I got up and applauded a few times, this woman was right, was it always about this? About a high-level oracle? And Hotaru said she was crazy.

>Everything goes to hell upon hearing "erotic dice" which makes her quickly sit back down to avoid participating, she wanted to maintain her virginity until her father decided on a decent husband, probably the hero of some universal battle.

“I-I don't want to suck anyone's dick…”

>Was this a Slaanesh cult? I had seen several videos on youtube about it, did they want to use incredibly attractive techniques to get her and make her lose the fight for the imperial throne?



>She quickly sees how time passes and sees everything that is happening around her with total impunity from the law, should she bring order as her father's representative on earth?

>Before I could demonstrate my clear dominance over all these inferior beings, a girl approaches me so beautiful that I almost slip, and I was sitting down.

>>10481
<My name is Ijuuin Seika, third year. You look like a neon cherry lollipop wrapped in those robes. What are your sweet childhood dreams and hopes? Come closer and tell me as I help you blow your nose.

“Hello, you look like Lusamine, Lillie's mom from Pokemon Sun and Moon, answering your question…”

>I look at Hotaru quickly and puff out my chest proudly.

“Conquer this planet in my father's name, obviously, if I achieve enough accomplishments I can annihilate my 300 siblings and put myself in the line of succession, as well as being a great witch in the future, admire this.”

>She lifts her hat and some cards appear, she puts it back on and lifts it again and the cards disappear.

“See? Are you afraid of me now?”

<How old are you? Didn't anyone teach you how to put on makeup? Let's talk about maturity.
“I am 16 years old in numbers you can understand, and no, my sister tried to teach me, but she almost took my eye out, so I never learned.

>>10496
>Another person approaches me, it seems I'm very famous, definitely my manipulation of reality called "Luck" and my great charisma are making me recognized as the great leader I am, maybe soon I can replace the club leader.

>As a Machiavellian smile forms on her face, she looks at the pink-haired girl and raises her finger excitedly.

“I like your hair too, and you're the first person to say they like how I dress, thank you very much, you also look very sexy with your glasses.”

>Jojojo, this will make her fall for me to be my servant in conquest.

>>10498
>>10506
>Seeing Hotaru's reaction to what the butterball was doing, she gave him a look of total death, the one her father used against her was returning from his journey for multiversal conquest.

“I'm going to make barbecued meat out of you.”

>She pulls pepper spray from inside her cape, and just as she's about to press it, bubbles come out.

“A-A-AH”

>She opens her eyes enormously, damn it, she bought it at a magic prop store.

“Forget it, don't go near Hotaru-chan, or I'll cut off your balls.”

>>10500
>>10504
“H-How is it possible to acquire such levels of reality manipulation? 3 times 3, that's a message from the gods, definitely.”

>She swallows hard seeing that it was her turn again, she was gaining many admirers lately.

>She looks at Seika-chan >>10503

“Seika, aren't you afraid of what the president will do? She seems to be a high-level witch, maybe she'll give you a wedgie, they gave me one of those once during my first year here and I couldn't walk for 3 days.”

>>10409
>Bibi grabs the dice, looks at the people and puts everyone's names in a randomizer, Jhon, the Butterball, and Seika had come up, lowering her head defeated because she had to fulfill a challenge against the butterball, but she sighed heavily and stood up.

“ADMIRE ME, MY NAME 100% AND NOT AT ALL AN INVENTION OF MY PERSON, IS BIBI, DAUGHTER OF A GREAT MULTIVERSAL CONQUEROR, MY FAVORITE MOVIE IS… PONYO.”

>She grabs the dice and rolls them, still holding onto Hotaru so she doesn't let go.

“Don't worry Hotaru-Chan, I'll never let go of you.”

Jhon: 1d12 = 7
Butterball: 1d12 = 6
Seika: 1d12 = 9
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>>10507
>>10504
>I see the die that shows for the blonde pervert, I scratch my cheek thinking what secret I could tell him, I quickly had an idea and got up.

"I had incontinence until I was 13, it's the only thing I can think of, although it's not that much of a secret, all my elementary school classmates knew."

>He gives Jhon a few pats and goes to the ice cream.

>>10506
>He moves his hands very slowly towards his belly and starts tickling his belly rapidly as if he were a puppy.

"TICKLE ATTACK."

>He continues for a while until he stops.

>>10503
>Finally, he approaches Seika and looks at her for a few seconds.

"We just met, but your aura shows that you are a good person, you are the only person besides Hotura who has asked me things about myself since I've been at this school, you surely have very pure intentions, thank you for being so kind."

>Completely fooled by Seika's act, she skips away to read >>10502.
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>>10392
>>10403
This school is shit
Brief context on why a young autistic girl ended up here
https://youtu.be/PSBxP6-Bz40?si=8cZp5NNG0trNYQCz
Rena ██████ █████ Daughter of ex-student Himari Sato and the famous philanthropist YouTuber
███████ ██ ███████ Was enrolled in Kamome Institute at her father's request, the thing is that said request was a complete mistake on Rena's father's part, since she was destined to go to a special school.

Message sent by Email
Sender: [email protected]
Recipient: かもめ予備校@Yahoo.com

[What's up my little chick? My ace, idol, master, ship captain, yakuza leader, titan, beast, mastodon, sheiki, and other adjectives I won't write due to lack of time.

As I told you in the previous email (which I don't know if you read, because having to contact you through this old and obsolete email so they don't know who I am is tedious) my offspring had fights at their school, one is a lost cause, and the other turned out to be autistic, at first I thought she wasn't mine, but the DNA test confirmed it, so I have to pay child support like my other children scattered around the world, but that's another topic.

The thing is that I want the troublemaker to enter this institution of yours, I ask you as a favor, her mother was an alumna and she was the one who gave me the idea, besides, you owe me because when I did a tour of the city a few years ago and gave a disturbing fact about this school, that generated popularity for them, not good but hey, popularity in the end, right? besides that if you accept my princess I will donate a good chunk of change to your institution and in a future video I will speak well of the prep school, I could even feature my daughter in said video.

I know she will adapt well, she will surely be the leader of a gang and all that, and surely you ask yourself, why only one? because the autistic one will go to a boarding school in Kyoto, she is not a troublemaker, trouble finds her, so it's better to keep her away from all that, you understand.

I already deposited some Yens and sent you a box of my merch as an incentive for you to accept, official t-shirts of the highest quality, signed and everything, I await a response, I will attach Renata's details so you can see that everything is in order]

By the father's request, Renata was supposed to be the one to enter Kamome, but since he was so absent-minded, he didn't remember his daughters' names well. Although he loves them, he has children all over the world and spends his time traveling, not for nothing did he name one Rena and the other Renata. Confusing them when enrolling them was a small slip-up in his career that he would find out about months later, thus condemning his autistic daughter Rena to be in an academy full of bullies and gangs, alone, without friends and without her sister's protection. Her sister, who ended up in a boarding school for autistic children and those with special needs. The complete opposite of what she was used to. It would be a piece of cake for Renata to survive among retards and subnormals, but she was worried about Rena being okay. She remembered stories from her mother about said institution, a real ordeal, a septic tank infested with vermin, where you had to survive or you would be someone's bitch, definitely not a place for her little sister.

A misunderstanding that condemned an autistic girl to associate with other autists in a shitty high school

And that's how Rena ended up here, her sister is no longer here to defend her, now she has to defend herself with what she learned over the years with her, plus the advice of her mother who is a veteran gyaru, and a bit of advice from her father on how to deal with drug dealers and thugs who want to mug you, the typical "he already knows the drill, kid", although Rena never knew what a "kid" was...
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10510 es
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>>10506
>I can't believe this level of violence, spanking, slapping, girl-on-girl action, it's like watching a doujin or the new edition of a yuri manga magazine!
......-The fat guy is earning himself another boob squeeze, Rena thought, though if the president liked getting slapped, the fat guy is surely the same or worse, so it's better not to touch him again-
>>10507
>"I like your hair too, and you're the first person to say they like how I dress, thank you very much, you look very sexy with your glasses too."
My glasses....-Rena takes her reading glasses out of her backpack and puts them on- sexy huh? it's the first time I've received such a compliment -she then takes out a pack of Oreo cookies and starts eating one while asking, chewing-
What kind of magic do you use? Elemental? Ancestral with summoning circles or runes? Based on mana like in a typical RPG, or my favorite, cartoon magic for its simplicity and superior potential -she said while offering an Oreo cookie, continuing to read >>10502-
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10511 es
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>>10498
>I take a few long, somewhat loud steps toward the black-haired boy. And the closer I get, the more I notice his short stature—though well, it's not like boys aged 15 to 17 in this country are particularly tall to begin with. Thanks to my long strides, in just seconds I'm standing right in front of him, looking down with unblinking eyes fixed on his black hair.

"Hello"

>And immediately he knows he's the target of this encounter. The boy doesn't hesitate—he instantly begs me to please wait, but why is he putting in so much effort? It's just a spanking. So, without further choice, I place my two cold hands on his shoulders, stopping his escape. Yeah, he tries to resist, but he doesn't have enough strength to break free from my grip.

"Relax, I'll be gentle with you"

>With that, I lift him into the air like a ragdoll and position him face-down across my lap, his small backside raised high. It's like fishing—he still won't give up, kicking to one side and squirming to the other. So I raise my hand and deliver a light slap on his bottom—not too hard, because this is a game, not a punishment. And as if flipping a switch, he suddenly goes still. I look at him, puzzled, then lower him from my legs and use my fingers to comb through his hair a bit, which had gotten messy from being flipped upside down and tossed over my lap.

"See? It's over. Wasn't so bad"

>I gently pinch his cheek like a grandmother who's just taken her grandson to get vaccinated.

<"I-I'm really sorry... I truly am."
"...."
"Don't worry, you don't have to apologize."
"No one wants to be spanked, even if it's just a game, right?"

>It's supposed to be a joke, but there's not even a noticeable shift in his tone of voice.

After that, whatever he says, I'm about to do my 15-second dance in front of the teacher, >>10493. But then, before I can even begin dancing, the teacher suddenly stops me by raising his hand. I freeze completely, utterly confused, and tilt my gaze upward, trying to see through his palm.
<Wait, before we begin there's something we need to prepare.
"Huh?"

"...."

>Then I notice him take out his cell phone and play.... background music, and without me expecting it, he also starts to follow the disco dance rhythm with me.
"Oh! Professor, okay"

"You want to dance with me, don't you?"

"WOW!"

>My legs spread slightly and begin to shift from side to side, while my head nods to the rhythm of the music. I take small steps to the right and then to the left, flexing my knees as my weight shifts from one leg to the other with a coordination much better than one would expect from someone who a few minutes ago fell off a chair for rocking too much. My arms initially remain in front of my body, as I clasp both hands and spin one wrist around the other, forming small circles, until suddenly I separate my arms and raise both hands towards the ceiling, pointing with my index fingers as my pelvis moves from side to side following the rhythm.

>Right, left, forward, back, one step and then another, my feet seem to remember on their own an absurd amount of moves that I probably didn't need to learn, but which are now quite useful. I knew that going to the Dance Dance Revolution machines every night would come in handy someday.

>My arms come down again and I start moving them from side to side, pointing at everyone in the room, accompanying each step with small shoulder movements, while my hands draw circles in the air before extending one arm to one side and then the other. Then I clasp my hands in front of me again, spin them again and, following the rhythm, separate them suddenly to point towards the sky again with my index finger, moving my pelvis to one side and then to the other, with my shoulders following the same beat.
>I look left, right, left/right quickly. I change direction with a short turn, cross one foot in front of the other, then open my stance again. My arms extend to the sides, cross in front of my body, and open once more. The fifteen seconds had already passed, but I don't notice. My body keeps dancing in sync with the teacher—I've literally forgotten this even started, like it was just one of the dice activities.

"...."

>Then, when the teacher turns to JM, I cross my arms, ending my dance with that "cool" pose, and let out a sigh because I still hadn't eaten, and that burned some energy. It was fun, though, so after that I go to the other big girl from this club, the one with thick muscles, not the one with broad bones. After I tell her my request, I notice the big girl immediately covering her face, and me, not quite understanding, proceed to do the same. Now both of us are standing there with our faces covered, staying like that for a while in this silly situation. But I cheat a little, opening a gap between my fingers to get a good look at her, noticing she's quite flushed, from neck to ears.

"...?"

>For now I ignore it, since she starts uncovering her face, so I do the same, and attentively listen as she tells me where she wants the massage. Exactly on her knees—and thank you, because she's very specific, which makes it easier to avoid mistakes.

"Ah. Okay."

>So with a serious expression, I crouch down and slowly begin lifting implied in case she's wearing baseball-style athletic pants the hem of her pants. When her knee is fully exposed, I carefully place my hands on it. They're a bit cold.

"Relax, okay? I'll be extremely careful."

>I say softly, and slowly begin massaging. The pads of my fingers press with extreme gentleness on the back of her knees. The pressure is minimal and constant, barely enough to move the skin without sinking into the tissues. My fingers slowly trace the tendons from side to side with short, precise motions.

>I place my thumbs on either side of the hollow, avoiding direct pressure on the center. They make small circles over the tendons as I alternate movement between one hand and the other. Then, the tips of my index and middle fingers perform slow gliding motions along each tendon, from the upper calf to the lower thigh and back again.

"You have very muscular legs."

>I slightly adjust my hand position to follow the natural contour of the tendons. The movements are continuous, symmetrical, and highly controlled. I slightly increase pressure when moving along the tendon bands, then immediately reduce it when returning toward the edges of the popliteal fossa.

>I alternate between longitudinal strokes and small circular motions, always maintaining delicate contact. Each pass ends with a light glide that releases pressure before the next begins, repeating the same sequence in a slow, uniform rhythm.

>Then I notice her flushed face, which I'd ignored before, so I stare at her while continuing to violate massage her leg. Suddenly stopping.

"Are you okay?"

>I stand up and move closer to her, placing my hand on her forehead. Maybe she's got a cold or a fever—I don't really know, I've almost never been sick.

"You don't have a fever, do you?"

"If you want, I can take you to the nurse's office."

>Though I'm not sure if it's even open at this hour.

....
El gordo Tulite-2cd290 No.10512 es
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>>10495

Miss, this is very inappropriate behavior for a student. Continue for 10 more minutes and you'll get a passing grade on your report.

>Feigning anger, the fat man spoke in an authoritative tone that almost made him sound like a real teacher. However, any attempt to take him seriously was undermined by the look of absolute pleasure on his face as he felt his chest being squeezed. After Rena let go, the fat man would try to convince her to keep going for longer.

>>10506

<What do you think?
The differences are already pronounced enough that there's no turning back. At least not in the coming years—the imaginative Japanese have already adopted the furry appearance of kobolds as the only valid one on this side of the pond.

>>10499

<thank you so much for agreeing to be the official supervisor of this madhouse of lunatics

Oh please, you don't have to thank me, Ichinose. Our meeting was already predestined. Yes, that's right! All of this is fate's doing, so that together we may usher in the beginning of our perverted revolution! With you shaping the minds of this club's members and me further molding those of the teachers, we'll soon seize control of the entire school.
We shall call it the Degenerate Indoctrination Plan for the Liberation of the Masses from the Puritan Yoke!

>Rising from his seat and placing one foot on the chair, he raised his fist high in celebration of their reunion. Just like Stand users, degenerates are drawn to each other as well. It is thanks to this gravity that the fat man arrived at this school, became a teacher, and is now the advisor of the role-playing club. His brief time here has already revealed the kind of perverts the other members truly are, and with so much depraved power gathered in one place, it's only a matter of time before the world falls beneath their feet.

<the woman was beautiful and had a truly juicy ass

Oh certainly, it's a terrible shame I couldn't see her in her prime. Still, no matter how insistent the coroners were, I managed to sneak into the funeral home—and let me tell you something. The sound those ass cheeks made when slapped was so full of life that for a moment I could almost hear the rest of the corpses rising up to give thanks.

>Visits to the funeral home or cemetery are just another routine part of his daily life. Usually, he prefers corpses that are far more emaciated, since they're the least cared for. But since he was replacing teacher Yui, he felt it necessary to pay his respects to her—and boy, did he deliver them...

<Or were they raping her?

What are you talking about, woman? How could that possibly be rape? Any man or woman would drop to all fours with their ass in the air if given the chance to spend five minutes alone with Director Kurogane's mighty cock.
<What do you say?

Ichinose... you've got nothing to worry about. No activity they prepare here will be enough to make them turn their backs on us, and if the teachers or student council decide to interfere, rest assured we'll defend ourselves. They might take us down separately, but if we attack together, none of them will dare come near us.

>He reached into his underwear, spat on his hand, then handed it to Ichinose to seal their agreement.

By the way, make sure to send all the material you can to this email, and always do it from an internet café. If anyone catches you communicating with that account, you'll be in serious trouble—and I'm not just talking about the school. Federal agents from many countries will come after you if they find out.

>Deal sealed. The fat man pressed himself as close as possible to Ichinose. He pulled a small piece of paper from inside his pants and slipped it into her back pocket. The address he'd passed her was equivalent to a state secret, so it was mandatory to deliver it as discreetly as possible so no one else would find out.

<Do we have a deal between heat-driven beasts?

As the two alphas of this territory, the most civilized thing would certainly be to agree on a ceasefire before casualties begin—and that's exactly why I REFUSE!
Ichinose-san, a true predator doesn't ask permission to capture its prey! Beasts like us live in absolute, unrestrained frenzy! Share, steal, defile, destroy, cannibalize, scavenge! No tactic is off-limits as long as it satisfies our desires! Express the unfiltered contents of your heart through your prey, and I'll do the same! That's the only agreement super-predators like us can ever reach!

>Crossing his arms, he nodded along to everything Ichinose had said. There was logic in his words, along with the desire for a fair game. Something the fat man couldn't accept. Just as his underwear was dirty, so too was his soul, which is why he could clearly see why Ichinose's plan was doomed to fail. Restraint went against the nature of both of them, and any attempt to enforce it would only end in chaos. The best thing, for themselves and for the rest of the club members, was to fully surrender to their desires and do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted, whenever and wherever they pleased.

>>10504

Fewer questions, more action! Come on, boy, kiss her and fuck her! Don't let that opportunity go to waste on stupid questions!

>Contrary to the other club members, the teacher wasn't paying much attention to the dice, but rather to John's own actions. Luck is useless if not seized at the moment, and the boy was wasting his due to his shyness. Trying to encourage him to take action, the fat man began shouting like a soccer coach urging a player to score a goal already.
Bonita Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10513 es
>>10499
>>10512
>>10415

>So, when we do the nose-to-nose greeting, the sound of a point-and-shoot camera echoes, making me turn towards its direction. It was Synod with his phone, which I raise an eyebrow at, and return to my normal posture.
"Is something wrong?"

<I'm going to post this on eporner with the tag #ugly_bastard
"Why?"

>I point to myself, and then look at Takahara

"But I'm not a bastard, nor is Takahara... Right?"

>At least I know I was born from my legitimate mother and father, even if they didn't want me.

<DID YOU KNOW that the JAV industry has ugly porn actors because they know the average consumer will identify with them more, unlike the American market which only puts out super muscular models?! That's a good fact from your president.
"...."

"No"

>I pull out a notebook and start writing something down quickly, then put it away again.

"Thanks for the info, president"

"..."

>And before I could ask her to delete that photo, since it could harm Takahara's family life, the president approached me, taking my hand and kissing it. I just look on in total confusion.

"Ah."

"..."

"I didn't expect that"

>And, as I took out a handkerchief to wipe the saliva from my hand, she moved even closer to me, which I didn't really mind, just staring into her thick glasses. And with that, Kinoko starts whispering something in my ear, a "welcome"? Or something like that.

<it's extremely egocentric and insolent of you to call yourself "Pretty-chan" in front of me...
"Well... Actually, everyone started calling me that today, so, well, I adopted it."

<I feel like licking it
"I don't recommend it..."

"I did it years ago, it doesn't taste good"

>As a child, I used to put strands of my hair in my mouth, I don't know why I did it, I think it was due to stress or pressure, but luckily I don't do it anymore, it was annoying to have the ends of my hair completely covered in saliva. I continue listening to her overly long compliment, to the point where I don't understand most of what she's trying to say, but in a way, I appreciate her words.

"Thanks."

":..."

"I think."

":..."

"I didn't understand about sixty percent of what you said."

"But I liked the part about stardust."

"Thanks for welcoming me."

>I try to smile while looking her in the eyes.

"Your club looks really good, I like the effort"

>I don't know how to give compliments, that was my best effort, the important thing is that it was completely sincere from my heart, and that's what mattered. Then she continued with the other club members, so I walked over to where she left her book, and leaning against the bookshelf, I took it out and glanced at it.
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10515 es
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Seika
>>10506
—React.
—Hm, are you just now realizing that roleplaying is such a simple hobby that it doesn't take more than adding two and two to master it? It was basic logic, bloated sperm whale.
—Well, I can't say I'm not pleased that you finally acknowledge my superiority, my predestined place within this group. So go ahead, delight and pear-shaped form, my dear drooling brave one, swarm and spread your praises toward my brilliant, beautiful, platinum self.
—(I've met fickle people before, but given how this chubby man and that other Russian girl are acting, I'll take the chance to satisfy my curiosity.)
—Hold on. Before that, I need you to throw yourself on the ground and act out a lung-troubled catfish swimming upstream through the majestic Ganges River, having to explain via fish gestures that you're not a delicious imperial salmon to a loving bear, so it won't strip off your healthy, armored skin covered in the blessings of Vishnu.

>>10507
—Hoho, it's incredible how vast the creative gap is between traditional entertainment media and those released like video games, isn't it?
—What do they call them? Pokimons? I once saw a very wise and coherent man warning about their influence on developing youth...
—(If you're referring to me as that witch version running around abusing her motherhood in some stupid, cheap 3D model, I'm going to get angry.)
—...
—(Poor girl, it's as if a region in her frontal lobe has stopped responding. Is this why lobotomies were invented? Stop, beauty, you don't want to become a defender of justified abuse.)
—It's never too late to learn a couple of things. For example, when lying about our age, the main idea isn't to add a year, but to subtract one, so you feel younger and fresher.
—If I did it, I'd be 16, but if you did it properly, you'd be, uh, 14? Yes, 14. I learned how to put on makeup around that age.
Seika's massage consisted of rummaging through Bibi's hair and her red locks. Not because she was curious about what she hid in that old, grubby hat, but because she had begun to suspect that she probably harbored an absurd amount of lice or nits.

>>10508
—Afraid of the president? Not at all, she's crazy. It's true that crazy people aren't locked up in asylums forever, but there's no need to fear. The weight of society will drag her down at some point and she'll end up as an old woman with 200 grubby cats living in a hollow apartment.
—That's right, I'm the purest and best one here. My golden heart is bursting out of my chest and it's impossible for it to hide my humility and kindness. Fuhahaha. See? Cheer up, you're someone capable of saying very coherent things at the right moment.

>>10512
—Professor! What kind of teacher are you, inciting perverse behavior in students!

>>10504
The situation had worsened, with a growing number of club members clamoring for the same thing. Seika, visibly stressed, realized in retrospect that her defense had not been the most effective. What kind of pride did this subject have to protect? He seemed like the reincarnation of that guy who made video memes making weird faces. She refused to take a single step closer, but acted quickly to prevent other strange ideas from taking root in his head.
—Hurry up. Don't you see I don't have all day?
—For me, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Seize your opportunity, or I'll offer it to our dear professor to take your place. The scent of a woman will once again be an imaginary concept for you.
Regaining her professionalism, Seika urged Jhon to act on his own terms. Hopefully, the idiot would lose his head and approach immediately, which would be enough to end the embarrassing activity as soon as she decided. Thus, she raised her right arm, hiding her perfect hair. The sharp, sterile, and sweetly undertoned citrus on her neck soon became just the clean, aldehydic attenuation of Calabrian and Japanese Yuzu; it would soon run out.
—If you dare to touch me even a millimeter, I assure you I'll kill you myself.
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10516 es
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>>10512
>Miss, this is very inappropriate behavior for a student. Continue for 10 more minutes and you'll get a passing grade on your report.
No thanks, besides I think the club rules were clear that none of this type of behavior is allowed in the club, although it referred more to kissing, I think groping falls under those rules, unless the president decides to change them, in any case, I don't want to touch your fat chest
>>10514
do you want to read it? -she says while offering him the manifesto, and taking the opportunity, she takes a picture of him with her cell phone, Rena wasn't good at learning names, so she took pictures of everyone and would write down nicknames for everyone, that way she would gradually learn their names, it was much easier for her to use nicknames to refer to people, otherwise she wouldn't be able to concentrate on learning names, she barely learned the president's and Katsumi's, otherwise she would be calling them boss and gorilla right now-

Okay, now I should create a section for her characters, but that will be once session 0 starts and the characters are created

-Rena takes her drawing notebook out of her backpack to start drawing her character, she had a clear idea, a witch, she always liked witches, since with magic they can do anything, that's why she would spend time calling herself the witch of everything, she thought of other names before, like witch of the void, but void is null, and null is the opposite of everything, therefore it doesn't suit her-

Witches are the best -she says almost whispering, immersed in her drawing without paying attention to her surroundings unless someone speaks to her, she will only draw and eat her Oreos-
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>>10515
>>10503
>The president placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest with a pose worthy of a classic comic book superhero upon hearing Seika question her unique aesthetic.

Kinoko: You are completely mistaken, my dear blonde mannequin! I don't have a style... I AM a walking style! I'm exactly like Shrek: a wonderful onion with too many layers of metaphorical complexity. You are beautiful and popular because you decided to stay comfortably on the surface of the iceberg, betraying your depth as a human being so as not to scare the NPCs of this school. But I don't! I dive into the deepest and murkiest parts of the ocean floor like a Ningen. Being so genuine makes normal people uncomfortable, which is why they try to label me, when I have more tags and labels than a doujinshi with dozens of collaborating authors!

>The passionate speech about her authenticity was abruptly interrupted when she noticed Seika opening her mouth and about to utter words like "balls" or "dick." The president's eyes widened, and a new drop of saliva began to slide down her chin, savoring the glory of hearing vulgarity from that princess mouth. However, seeing that the blonde held back the impulse, Kinoko let out a long, exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Kinoko: Ugh, what a disappointment... Well, it's time for you to fulfill the bet, but I see that high-class mind doesn't know how to insult a commoner like me. Come on, cheer up! You can call me a bitch, a cheap whore, radioactive scum, or any term that denigrates my dignity beyond my physique. It's super easy! Half of Kamome Preparatory School hates me, and the other half has sovereign disgust for me, so there's not much complexity to this. Oh! And if you're really planning to do a charity campaign by cleaning this room, I strongly recommend you don't touch those Texhnolyze figures. There lies the genetic trace of Professor Crazy Underpants, and I guarantee you wouldn't want to touch anything so viscous. Now, if you insist on cleaning up my biological trail, you can start with that basket full of panties I haven't washed since last year; they're overflowing with my purest feminine fluids! Muahahahaha!

>She gave her a huge, unhinged smile, showing absolutely all her teeth in a grotesque gesture. It was at that precise moment that Seika delivered the insult, calling her a mangy, bug-eyed bitch.
Kinoko: WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! AAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU~!

>>10504
>The capricious fate of the dice had delivered its verdict on the gaming table, and now the boy found himself in an awkward position: on all fours, mimicking the posture of a submissive dog right in front of Seika. The president, watching the scene with a spark of utter madness and amusement in her eyes, leaned down toward Jhon without caring that he was still on the floor. She rested her hands on her knees and smirked sideways, abruptly shifting the conversation with that hyperactive energy characteristic of hers.

Kinoko: Listen well, my dear and virgin recruit! You must know that among my sacred roleplay genres, horror is my absolute specialty. As the undisputed Loremaster of this realm, I need to deeply understand each one of your darkest fears. Only then can I design a campaign so damnably sinister that it either makes them shit themselves from fright or leaves them with lifelong psychological trauma. It's a delicate art! In fact, thanks to one of my cosmic horror sessions, a former member became so severely disturbed that he carried out an attack on the clown club. The poor wretch suffered from severe coulrophobia, you see? So he went and assaulted the clown club. Well, it wasn't really serious, actually—he just threw a shipment of oranges at them while screaming that citric acid repels demon clowns. A narrative masterpiece, if you ask me!

>The president stood back up, jingling a die provocatively in her hand as she returned to the current dilemma on the table.
Kinoko: But returning to your embarrassing predicament... In this club we foster intense social interaction among its members. You have complete freedom to convince Seika to let you snoop around her anatomy however and however intensely you want, but if you chicken out and don't fulfill it, the system demands immediate punishment for you. You will be penalized with this...

>With a mocking and theatrical smile, Kinoko reached into her colorful fanny pack and pulled out a small, sinister-looking object of reinforced metal: a phallic chastity cage. She dangled it in front of Jhon's face, threatening him with her gaze.

Kinoko: If you fail your mission, you will put on this beautiful artifact and become the submissive slave of the party for the entire damn campaign we'll play after the introductions are finished. So you know, Miller... Either you convince the blonde or say goodbye to your masculine dignity!

>He starts drooling profusely, it even drips down his chin, it seems the idea of having a member "caged" pleases him greatly, she doesn't only have fetishes with other girls. And if things weren't worse for good old JM, the blonde boy can feel a breath on his neck, a wet, hot, and heavy breath. It's the guy with makeup on his face who looks like Marilyn Manson or a member of Kiss, the weirdo says nothing, just gets dangerously close to Jhon's back and breathes through his mouth as he had been doing since he entered the room.

>>10505
>>10509
>>10510
>The gazes of both intertwined and time seemed to freeze. Against the light, the shadow covered the usually expressionless face of the autistic girl, but Katsumi noticed it: a small, almost imperceptible smile appeared on her lips. That gesture left room for interpretation to think the worst, sowing panic in the enormous girl, whose face went from blushing to a pallor of pure fright. Seized by anxiety, Katsumi unconsciously squeezed Rena's hips. When Rena asked her to put her down, the giant reacted clumsily and with extreme shyness.

Katsumi: A-Ah! I-I'm so sorry! P-Please don't touch my breasts, I'm extremely sensitive there! Forgive me, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!

>She exclaimed, totally embarrassed, as she gently placed her on the ground. With her heart racing, Katsumi looked at her with sincere concern.
Katsumi: It's incredible... that a girl like you can be so terrifying. Please, I beg you, don't hurt anyone else. Violence leads to nothing good and revenge... revenge only kills the soul and poisons it...

>A few meters away, oblivious to the real terror, Kinoko continued immortalizing the moment with her camera, drooling on the floor.

>>10506
>The chubby girl with glasses averted her gaze, a hint of dissatisfaction on her face. She expected a different reaction, perhaps something more risqué than a simple technical analysis of her shorts. Although she nodded politely to confirm she wanted to keep the peace, she felt a pang of envy deep down. Seeing how Reika hogged all the attention while she was treated with such distance seemed profoundly unfair; she would have loved to be sexualized or receive the same kind of harassment as the others. Suppressing that frustration, she merely forced a smile.

>Beside her, Hotaru remained in shock, trembling as she hugged Rena >>10508 >>10507. Her small hand still dripped with the sweat and grease the veteran had left after the massage. Hearing Takahara's words about how cute she was and his desire to get along, the girl panicked completely. She tightened her hug around her friend and shook her head violently, denying it again and again. Her expression of terror was identical to that of the child in the movie Child's Play upon discovering that his doll Chucky was alive and ready to kill. Kinoko, observing the scene with her arms crossed, intervened with a strident burst of laughter that broke the tension in the classroom.

Kinoko: Please, Takahara-dono! You're completely wasting the glorious gift God gave you at birth as a proper pig. Don't you know? The ugly bastard genre is incredibly popular among today's teenagers! With that potential, who knows, you might even succeed in the JAV industry if you set your mind to it!

>The president landed a friendly punch on his arm, but with enough force to leave a dull ache.

Kinoko: It's for things like this that I emancipated myself from my parents! So that no one tells me how to live my life. What's more, I'll record this and upload it to Eporner. Do you think your dad knows the site? If so, tell him to subscribe to my channel! I usually upload high-quality content.

>Completely ignoring the evident panic Takahara had towards his own parents, Kinoko burst into loud, uninhibited laughter again, which echoed throughout the room.
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>>10508
>>10507
>Hotaru clung with unexpected strength to Bibi's body, practically climbing on her like a scared koala. Her small body continued to emit spasmodic tremors, while she completely hid her pale face in the witch's cape-covered chest. A few meters away, Takahara, a huge and chubby boy who bore a disturbing resemblance to a giant hamster, smiled innocently, oblivious to the trauma he had just caused. The blue-haired girl, her voice muffled by fabric and disgust, began to whisper frantically.

Hotaru: He's a monster... I swear, Bibi, it was disgusting. I felt his fingers... they were covered in a horrible grease, like he'd been eating fries straight from the bag before touching me. His hands were sweaty and hot. Please, I beg you, get out your wand or whatever and cast a petrification spell on him... or a explosive diarrhea curse. I don't want that thing to come near me again for the rest of my life.

>As the little one continued her litany of complaints, a shadow fell over them. A boy with tanned skin, short white hair, and dark black-rimmed glasses approached with slow steps. His eyes, fixed behind the lenses, examined Bibi's outfit with overwhelming intensity, completely ignoring the blue-haired koala's drama.

Moreno: Interesting... Very interesting. Excuse the intrusion, but I need to satisfy a technical doubt. Seeing your attire, what kind of mage are you supposed to be? Given the width of the hat and the fall of the classic cape, I doubt you're a thaumaturge from the conventional D&D school. Do you lean more towards a learned arcanist who relies on strict spell preparation, a draconic bloodline sorceress with innate magic in her blood, or perhaps a pact witch who sells her soul to a lower plane deity for mystical claw attacks? The design evokes a certain retro vibe, but you lack a visible grimoire, which makes me think of an elemental channeler or a hidden necromancer.

>Before Bibi could even process the barrage of role-playing terms, another figure appeared next to the boy. She was a very thin and lanky-looking girl, with short, messy brown hair that showed some blueish streaks at the tips. She wore her school uniform somewhat loosely, with a poorly tied red tie and the gray jacket hanging lazily off her shoulders. Her dark eyes had prominent dark circles that accentuated her gaunt but strangely relaxed appearance.
Skinny girl: Hey, well, I think your outfit is super cute. You look just like those anime girls from the dark fantasy edits generated with artificial intelligence that keep popping up on my TikTok feed. You know, the ones with gothic background music and castles shrouded in mist. That style really suits you.

>The bespectacled boy adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, raising an eyebrow with the sternness of a university professor hearing his student's comment.

Brunette guy: Please, don't confuse the terms. Dark fantasy as a subgenre isn't limited to the visual aesthetics found on social media. Its true essence lies in subverting the tropes of classic high fantasy. While in Tolkien-esque settings good and evil are clearly defined, in dark fantasy protagonists operate within an absolute moral gray zone, where monsters are often an extension of human degradation and the environment is inherently hostile—like in the works of Glen Cook or Kentaro Miura's manga. AI only replicates the superficial gothic layer, but lacks the nihilistic narrative and cosmic pessimism that define the genre.

>The skinny girl blinked a couple of times, processing the monologue with an empty yet highly entertained smile.

Skinny girl: Honestly, I didn't understand a single thing you just said, but you speak so seriously it's funny. Anyway, I joined this club because my parents fight constantly all day, and I wanted an excuse to not stay at home so much. What about you guys? Why did you join?

>The brown-skinned boy dropped his analytical posture, revealing a calm and sincere smile that softened his otherwise serious expression.

Brunette guy: In my case, it's simple. I love fantasy in all its forms.

>After their respective statements, both youths fell silent in unison. With curiosity evident on their faces, they turned their heads toward the girl wearing the witch's hat, patiently waiting to hear what Bibi would say.

>>10511
>>10514
>>10513
>The black-haired boy looked at Lebedeve with a mix of mild embarrassment and utter shyness, his cheeks dyed as red as a pair of ripe apples. The unexpected affection from the silver-haired girl—smoothing his bangs and then playfully pinching his cheek—had completely thrown him off balance. He wasn't used to interacting with girls, much less receiving such strangely affectionate gestures right after being spanked on the lap. The boy averted his gaze, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
Black-haired boy: Well... nobody likes spankings, I guess. But sometimes you deserve them, right? I mean, it's totally valid to spank someone when that person completely ruined your life at eighteen... right? H-Hehehe... Besides, it's nothing... yours was just a gentle caress compared to my dad's heavy, huge, rough hand. Physical wounds always heal fast—you shouldn't take them so hard. In the end, the pain my parents have felt since I was born doesn't compare at all to the pain they have to endure every day. Sooner or later, I won't feel any kind of pain ever again, and no one will hurt me anymore.

>The boy nodded to himself with a forced and disturbing smile, eyes glazed over as he mindlessly justified the obvious physical abuse inflicted by his parents.
However, the classroom's attention quickly shifted to Katsumi. When Bonita-chan approached and began exposing her knee, the giant student panicked.

Katsumi: Wait, wait! There's no need to pull up my school pants! You can do the massage over the clothes, really!

>It was already too late. Shizuku began the treatment with meticulous gentleness. The instant the tips of the girl's fingers brushed against the tendons behind her knee, Katsumi let out a sharp, muffled shriek. An intense wave of sensitivity surged through the athlete's powerful frame, making her tremble with pleasure bordering on pain. As Shizuku's thumbs traced perfect circles, the giant's muscles spasmed involuntarily; her eyes rolled back intermittently, and tiny, shaky moans escaped her clenched lips.

Katsumi: Aaahhh...! Y-You're right... my legs are really muscular because... I trained so hard since I was a child! My father forced me into a military routine... Ah! Wait, that spot's super sensitive...!

>The texture of her legs was imposing—a barrier of hard, dense fiber betraying years of strict discipline. As Shizuku increased pressure and performed longitudinal strokes, Katsumi could take no more. The built-up pleasure completely knocked her out, collapsing her into her seat like a limp, lifeless heap. When Shizuku suddenly stopped, worried by her flushed face, and reached a hand toward her forehead suggesting a trip to the infirmary, Katsumi could barely move her lips, pleading for mercy in a faint, trembling voice.
>At that moment, a loud, wet gulp of saliva shattered the tense atmosphere. It was President Kinoko, who had been recording the entire scene on her cellphone, capturing every moan and reaction with bulging, lust-filled eyes.

Kinoko: Whew, what a glorious tactile spectacle! To answer your question, Bonita-chan... Doctor Wang is probably still in the infirmary at this hour, but that decrepit old bastard hardly ever treats girls. Back in my first year I broke my leg playing on the stairs and that damn creep just prescribed me generic diclofenac and told me to run off. Hahaha! So better let her rest right here—your heavenly massage already sent her straight to Valhalla.

>She burst into loud laughter before giving Bonita-chan a knowing look.

Kinoko: Pfft! Truth is, we all have a bastard inside us, my dear Lebedeve. It's just about bringing it out at the right moment. Though if we made an official bastard ranking for this roleplay club, Professor Crazy-Underwear would take first place by a landslide, second place would definitely be me, and third spot goes to Takahara-dono without a doubt!

>The president raised her thumb with tremendous enthusiasm. Her smile emitted a radiant gleam, and even her eyes sparkled with pure ecstasy—clearly visible despite her thick glasses. She looked incredibly happy to feel her utterly useless knowledge was being acknowledged. After whispering that long compliment, she stepped back slightly and confessed a strange fetish with complete nonchalance.

Kinoko: Honestly... I love the taste of hair. In fact, I had to get emergency surgery in elementary school because I kept eating my classmates' hair, and they pulled out a hairball THIS BIG!

>The president suddenly raised her arms to demonstrate the enormous size of the hair mass, laughing shamelessly. Then, she gazed tenderly at the platinum-haired girl.

Kinoko: But anyway! Thank you for joining the roleplay club. Doesn't matter what you thought—I praised you with all my heart.

>Suddenly, noticing that Shizuku appreciated her effort, Kinoko wrapped her arms around her in a surprise hug. Curiously, there were no perverted intentions or lewd groping—this was a genuinely heartfelt gesture from someone who felt touched by being validated. With her cheeks painted a sweet rosy red, the president declared with absolute determination:

Kinoko: I won't let you down as your president and liberator! I'll give my all for each and every one of my new members. From now on, you won't be alone anymore!
Loremaster Rosaite-d8b5fc No.10519 es
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>>10512
>Kinoko froze in front of the teacher, her hyperactive body locked in an unnatural stillness. Behind the thick lenses of her bottle-bottom glasses, her eyes narrowed completely. Although Jack couldn't see her pupils clearly, the pressure in the air became suffocating; it was a killer's gaze, charged with primal hostility, but also with deep, absolute respect. It was the silent truce of an untamable lion that, in the middle of the steppe, comes face to face with a Bengal tiger. Kinoko took her status as a super-predator damn seriously, and the teacher's response—which encouraged unbridled competition where the end justified the means—had ignited a spark of mutual recognition. She didn't stop glaring at him with that monster's expression that recognizes its equal at the top of the food chain, extending her hand towards him rigidly, demanding the recognition that two alphas owe each other in this concrete and dice jungle called a role-playing club.

>Regardless of whether "Crazy Underwear" decided to accept the pact and shake her hand with the brute force of his hierarchy, the president didn't take her eyes off him. Her voice dropped several octaves, losing any trace of its usual shrill tone.

Kinoko: I hope you're clear, Jack-san... In this ecosystem, only the fittest survive. I sincerely hope you don't end up becoming my food too, like the rest of the weaklings wandering these halls.

>The aura of a celestial and dangerous beast that enveloped her dissipated suddenly, as if it had never existed. In the blink of an eye, Kinoko regained her typical feline smile, showing her fangs playfully as she let out a mocking giggle.

Kinoko: Oh, come on! Don't get so tense. This president is no novice in the business. I know perfectly well how to hide my contraband without the law sniffing me out. I have dozens of secret Telegram groups with military-grade encryption and a bunch of decoded clouds that are impossible to trace. So don't worry about the commissioner.

>The girl gave the robust teacher a loud pat on the back, laughing freely.

Kinoko: You're not going to jail, old man. At least not because of me, I assure you. Really, thanks again for covering our asses with those old farts on the board of directors. But hey, if you have time between your... "special activities," keep an eye on the parent-teacher association. They're usually very calm, damn zombies, but my sources tell me there's a member involved in "Gairai-ha." According to rumors, their president, that Sumitomo woman, intends to launch a holy crusade against our kind and the high school delinquents.

>She made a face of annoyance, raising both hands to her chest to shape the air in an exaggerated gesture.

Kinoko: She's an extremely prudish woman, an unbearable puritan, but she has enormous tits, this big! A true contradiction of nature.

>Suddenly, the president dropped her arms and let out a long sigh, emanating a strange aura of uncertainty. She glanced sideways at the classroom door, as if she had confidential information and knew perfectly well the storm that was brewing over Kamome. However, she shook her head to cut off the mystical rambling and winked at Jack maliciously.

Kinoko: Anyway, if things go wrong and I end up dead in this school war, I've already written that I want to be cremated immediately. I don't want you ending up spanking my corpse in the morgue, you damn dirty old man! Muahahahaha!
Loremaster Rosaite-d8b5fc No.10887 es
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>>10516
>>10515
>>10514
>>10512
>>10508
>>10506
>>10504
>After President Kinoko's thunderous intervention, the rest of the new roleplay club members began introducing themselves one by one, almost wrapping up these formalities so everyone could know each other's names, starting with... Hotaru L, an extremely short girl with blue hair tied into two high pigtails and a tilted cap, who didn't bother to stand up. She remained clinging to Bibi's arm, pressed against her side as if she'd evaporate if she broke contact. With a feline smirk on her lips and her dark eyes fixed on the others, she raised her voice slightly.

Hotaru: I'm Hotaru L. And let this be clear from the start—I'm not telling you what the L in my last name stands for, idiots, so don't even ask. I'm in second year, I have a younger sister in first year, and my favorite movie is Mama! I'm a Fish. And for my roll, I pick Bibi!

>Without wasting time, the die rolled across the table before coming to a stop, making way for the next turn.

1d12 = 7

>The black-haired boy with bandages swallowed audibly. His frail frame visibly trembled beneath his loose white T-shirt; his face was covered in small band-aids, and his huge, teary, exhausted eyes reflected an inferiority complex that made him shrink into himself. Adjusting a bandage on his wrist with trembling fingers, he spoke in a barely audible whisper.

Hisao: M-My name is Hisao Kanamori... I'm in first year. My favorite movie is Chungking Express... Sorry if my presence bothers you... F-For the dice roll, I choose Master Jack.

>The moment the die left his shaking fingers, a heavy groan interrupted the table.

1d12 = 5

>Katsumi Rokuhara, the imposing girl dressed in a baseball uniform, was in a pitiful state. Her face was completely red, she was panting with her mouth open, and suffering minor muscle spasms. The massage Bonita-chan had given her had left her utterly dazed and dizzy, barely able to hold onto her dark glass bottle. Gazing blankly at the ceiling and swaying her massive body, she mumbled clumsily.

Katsumi: Me... second year... Rokuhara Katsumi. Movie... The Benchwarmers. Damn it, I'm still seeing double... Hey everyone, I pick Seika!... if I can even point right.

>She lazily dropped the translucent die onto the table.

1d12 = 9

>Right beside her, the atmosphere turned thick and macabre. The boy covered in thick facial makeup and deep black shadows around his eyes leaned forward. His cadaverous appearance, completed by a flat military cap, was intimidating. His mouth hung open, breathing heavily and constantly, his eyes barely blinking, locked onto the others with a deranged intensity. His voice came out hoarse and drawn-out, like something from a B-grade cult film.
Gore Predator: You can call me Gore Predator or GP. Common names are for weak minds. Third year of high school. My absolute cinematic devotion belongs to all Guinea Pig movies, both the independent Japanese masterpieces and the American iterations. Flesh, guts, and pure art. My cursed destiny's target is JM.

>He rolled the red die with a mechanical motion, locking his unblinking eyes onto his victim.

1d12 = 9

>Shattering the eerie tension, the chubby girl from the group suddenly bounced in her seat, radiating vibrant energy. She wore pink-rimmed glasses, her brown hair tied in twin ponytails with heart-shaped clips, and a blue gym uniform. Her wide smile showed a desperate desire to win everyone's affection and fill the room with positive vibes.

Kuma: Hi everyone! I'm Kuma Hoshino! So thrilled to meet you all! I'm a first-year and I'm super excited we're so many this year. My all-time favorite movie is Bram Stoker's Dracula—I love gothic romance! And for my fun interaction, I pick Rena! I hope we get along great!

>Hoshino enthusiastically tossed the dodecahedron, clapping her hands before sitting back down.

1d12 = 9

>The skinniest girl in the club spoke up without bothering to sit up straight. Her frail, slumped figure sagged in the seat, wearing a poorly-fitted gray school uniform, her messy brown hair looking like it hadn't seen a comb in days. Her half-lidded eyes showed deep exhaustion, and though her tone was calm, her voice lacked any trace of vitality.

Yowai: Sayuri Yowai... second year. My favorite movie is The Holy Mountain. Talking this much already exhausts me... So I'll just say I choose Bonita-chan.

>She let the die roll with a slight push of her index finger.

1d12 = 9

>Finally, the last member of this new group adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and gave the entire table a warm, friendly smile. His tanned skin and snow-white hair contrasted perfectly with his relaxed demeanor, giving off the aura of a seasoned adventurer ready to befriend his new gaming companions.

Valdo: Hello, everyone. My name is Valdo Matogrosso, a pleasure to share this table with you. I'm a third-year, and my favorite movie is The Sword and the Dragon from 1960, a classic adventure film every good roleplayer should appreciate. To close this wonderful round of introductions, my pick goes to the fine gentleman Takahara.

>With an elegant gesture, Valdo tossed the twelve-sided die toward the center of the map, concluding the round of introductions. President Kinoko watched with sharp, greedy eyes—game time was near, and she knew it.

1d12 = 6
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>>10887
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CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATION REPORT

TO: Mrs. Sumitomo Fumi

FROM: Kage Investigation Agency (Lead Investigator: Genjiro Miyamoto)

DATE: March 14, xxxx

SUBJECT: X-ray of the underworld and criminal structures at Kamome High School

---

Dear Mrs. Sumitomo,

In fulfillment of the assignment assigned to me, I have successfully infiltrated the most hermetic circles of Kamome High School. After weeks of shadow surveillance, gathering under-the-table testimonies, and analyzing movements, I have deciphered the map of the five factions controlling the school. Forget simple school rebels; what operates here is a professional criminal network with deep ties to the faculty and administration. Below, I present my report in prose with the findings for each group.

---

Mikkoku-kai

The clandestine trade within Kamome is monopolized by the criminal network known as Mikkoku-kai. This organization handles the mass sale of narcotics to both students and faculty members, but their business doesn't stop there. They also control the black market for leaked exams, distribute explicit pornographic content created by the students themselves, and forge medical records to justify prolonged absences. The cunning behind this machinery rests with its leader, Shinji Watanabe, a young man with a cold, calculating gaze who hides his right eye behind a black patch. The true power of Mikkoku-kai lies in its untouchable strategic alliances, as they maintain a pact of mutual benefit with the board of directors, highlighting their direct dealings with Vice Principal Del Toro and Dr. Wang. Furthermore, they have alliances with the disciplinary committee and are the exclusive suppliers of the morphine consumed by teacher Hightower. Due to the purely profit-driven nature of their operations, members of this gang walk like ghosts and avoid physical or territorial disputes at all costs, unless a third party attempts to interfere with their trade routes or threaten their profits.

Photo of their leader: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/65/f5/42/65f542a769813629ce14097bab0bda73.jpg

Gurentai

Physical terror in the hallways and around the institution is imposed by the brutal force of Gurentai. This faction consists of typical juvenile delinquents who move on noisy motorcycles and dedicate their days to street fights, whether against Kamome students or in bloody battles against rival schools. Their crime catalog includes systematic beatings of the most vulnerable students or "nerds," cash theft, direct extortion, and destruction of private property inside and outside the campus. No small business is spared, as they charge an aggressive "protection fee" to any student attempting to sell candy or minor goods during recesses; additionally, they accept economic contracts to deliver beatings or threaten anyone ordered. The head of this violent pack is Daichi Kuragane, the imposing and muscular nephew of Director Kuragane himself. Although they usually maintain a tense truce with Mikkoku-kai, friction and territorial differences are constant. Gurentai's history is dark, as my investigations directly link them to the supposed suicide of teacher Inoue Yui and that of several students.

Photo of their leader: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/1d/45/af/1d45afb4f851ebbb3bb4443636f50b21.jpg

Onna-gumi
At the edge of the park nearest the high school, Onna-gumi operates—a sisterhood composed entirely of women. What initially began as a support and self-defense group for females to protect female students from male student abuse gradually mutated into one of the school's cruelest gangs. Nowadays, Onna-gumi replicates the same patterns of intimidation, theft, destruction, and vicious harassment against innocent victims, maintaining their protection promises only for those girls who pledge absolute loyalty to the gang. Their main funding source is extremely murky, as they obtain large sums of money through the exploitation and
Photo of their leader: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e6/d7/27/e6d72720f726371e2587a4e744c95424.jpg

Harpyia

At the highest rung of the mystery lies Harpyia, an organization whose very existence is doubted by most, considered by many as nothing more than an urban legend to scare those who stay on campus until late at night. It is known that this select group is composed of students from multimillionaire families with impeccable social standing, distinguished by their use of extravagant, exotic, and unusual hairstyles that identify them to one another in the strictest secrecy. The central figure of this enigma is a young New Zealander named Shiobhan Blackwood, daughter of business tycoons—a rich girl whose baffling presence at a public school like Kamome is the source of countless suspicions. The few threads I have managed to pull connect Harpyia directly to the mysterious disappearance of several students over recent semesters, with strong suspicion that they operate as an internal link in an international human trafficking ring. They are an invisible, silent, and lethal group about which little is known, yet their economic reach makes them, by far, the greatest threat to the institution.

Photo of their leader: https://www.fightersgeneration.com/characters2/junport.jpg

---

"Mrs. Sumitomo, the situation at Kamome High has surpassed common vandalism; we are facing a criminal ecosystem perfectly balanced by corruption. I await your instructions on how to proceed with this information."

"Sincerely,"

"Genjiro"
"Kage Investigation Agency"
Rolero Prasiolite-775a82 No.10890 es
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>>10517
>JM

>Although the blonde had consulted, the president's words were not exactly for him; rather, it was an indirect way to remind Seika that if she didn't let herself be smelled, she'd become just another victim of Kinoko's delusions, and at the very least, she'd endure a level of stress as high as the misery of his own life, or worse—his stupidity, though clearly, he didn't even consider that last part.
>For a few moments, the blonde's heart pounded with fear: on one hand, due to the punishment Ichinose proposed; on the other, because of how strange she looked drooling like that, and the breaths he felt on his head didn't help either. Nevertheless, Kinoko's weird attitudes and fetishes were something Jhon considered important for his plan.
>The cheering shouts from >>10512 didn't take long to try influencing the blonde, but he simply held back; acting without thinking would be too risky on his part.

"Je."

>The blonde straightened his back, hands in his pockets, and fixed his manic gaze on >>10515.
>She began listing options, which didn't sit well with Jhon given the position the redhead was in. If he let her be smelled by the literature professor, it wouldn't matter anyway—the blonde's chance to sniff her would still stand, after all, they're two separate things, and Miller wasn't desperately seeking to appreciate her feminine fragrance primarily.
>Girls like her, who act difficult, think one thing but say another, and end up doing the exact opposite of what they said, were very familiar to Jhon. So he didn't care how she looked, what she said, or why she ignored him about getting closer. He knows—or supposes—that deep down, she's feeling pressured, which is useful knowledge for his goal.
>Then, his plan that had been simmering during this long journey finally comes out of the oven.

"Hey everyone!"

>He glances sideways at the fat literature guy and then at the president as he starts walking toward Saiko.
>He extends his arms.
"Stand up! Can't you see we must commemorate this day where the gods of chance left us their divine message?"

>He returns his hands to his pockets, then turns his gaze from side to side, observing the other members as he speaks.

"Three out of three!"

"Three photos to bless with the mememagical miracle the front face of our role-club door!"

"Three announcements for our club featuring the perfect evidence of reality manipulation!"

"Three videos of this historic event to upload to the world and fill them with role-envy!"

>The blonde doesn't even know what he's saying; he just repeated what he heard from several surprised and excited group members, rearranged it to his liking, and added an improvised bit at the end.

>For some reason, "three out of three" seems to carry a meaning he doesn't quite grasp, but he has won the admiration of many who must now turn that into action for the club—and which will also benefit Miller in continuing to pressure Saiko.

>What John hopes for isn't so much the reaction of the other members, but rather the dark impulse of Kinoko Ichinose to take initiative and encourage the rest—though either outcome suits him.

>After the short walk, the blonde stands before the redhead, maintaining a small but appropriate distance.

>With his hands behind his neck and his eyes closed, he continues his talk to the air.

"Hmm, though it would be a shame if the annoying little princess wouldn't let herself be smelled anyway, don't you think, president?"

>He opens his eyes again, leans close to the redhead's ear, and whispers.

"...and it would be a shame what the boss would do to you if you don't let yourself be smelled by all these crazy people... unless we're alone outside and I stroke you to comfort you, baby, hehehehe."

>Almost instantly after finishing his message, with one hand he pulls her and holds her by the clothes, and with such slowness that the redhead grows desperate and gives in, he brings his nose close to graze against the skin of her neck to finally smell it—if the girl doesn't give any response.
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10891 es
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>>10517
-Rena was watching the situation from the corner of her eye, the president turned out to be masochistic and perverted for acting like a dog literally, but she also liked others acting like dogs, to Rena's luck it was Javier Milei and not her, that said, the president pointed at a basket with dirty underwear that seemed like no one touched and will never touch, it could be a good hiding place for later-

>Katsumi: It's incredible... that a girl like you can become so terrifying. Please, I beg you, don't hurt anyone else. Violence leads to nothing good and revenge... revenge only kills the soul and poisons it...
-Already seated, Rena observed Katsumi after hearing her say a very good phrase about revenge, she was sure she heard this phrase in some series adapting a comic, it's the typical phrase that a dying guy tells his nephew to forge his character and heroic bases, unfortunately Rena knows that in this world there are no heroes, if life were more interesting, nor does magic exist, and even if it did exist, the governments of the world keep everything great secret, that's what she believes, and after reading chapter 1 of the manifesto she knows that's what the president also believes, so, what will Katsumi believe?, Rena was thinking this while observing Katsumi in silence, until she asked her something-
Will you lend me your bat later? or at least help me get one
-After saying that, Rena turned away to stop looking at Katsumi, she had to keep drawing her OC for the coming role-

>>10887
https://youtu.be/cfNh8Om8IQ0?si=zSVwVQ-lf-nWF3j->Hotaru: I am Hotaru L
Loli -Rena whispered to herself-

>Hisao: M-My name is Hisao Kanamori
The pretty one is shy

>Katsumi: I... second year... Rokuhara Katsumi
-Well, she already knows her, although something surprised you, you thought her favorite movie would be Hercules Vigila, after all it's the best baseball movie in history-

>Gore Predator: You can call me Gore Predator or GP
Marilyn Manson -Rena thought, is it a lost son of the singer who came to Japan with Eminem? Wait, he said he likes guinea pig? then... he likes animals, that contrasts a lot with his appearance, although you don't quite understand what those hamsters have to do with meat and organs... but you remember that your father once told you that in a country in Latam called Peru they usually eat them... so you assume he's a fan of movies about Peruvian culinary chefs....you're craving an inkacola right now-

>Kuma: Hello everyone! I'm Kuma Hoshino!
The fat one -Rena whispered to herself, and after hearing she was chosen she nodded her head- go ahead... what was the result 9???

>Yowai: Sayuri Yowai... second year
The pretty one -Rena whispered trying to remember her face, although there's already a pretty one, but Rena this girl was the most beautiful, along with the other boy-

>Valdo: Hello everyone, classmates. My name is Valdo Matogrosso
The black one -said Rena without whispering, his Latin heritage taught him that if there's a dark-skinned person in the group, automatically he becomes the black one-

-She would try to memorize the names of all the others as soon as possible so as to avoid conflicts, but she hoped her nicknames wouldn't be badly received, after all, retaining information in her brain was something complex, she could learn the pokerap in half an hour if she wanted, but things like confusing names or basic things like bus station with train terminal were a headache, because she didn't know if what she thought was right, was it train station and bus terminal? Sometimes she thought that confusing things were created just to confuse her-

>>10890
.....Javier Milei got into the role of acting like a dog a lot...
El gordo Rainbow Pyrite-ae9b51 No.10892 es
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>>10511

<You want to dance with me, don't you?

Yeah beibi show me what you got!

>Responding with the same broken English, the professor began imitating Bonita-chan's movements. At first it was necessary to watch her to know what she was going to do, but over time both managed to synchronize to the point of guessing their counterpart's moves without any kind of signal.
>The very unathletic figure of the fat guy was no problem when following the rhythm. Moving as if all those extra kilos were a costume rather than real fat. Fast steps, jumps, or even a split, no dance move was impossible for the fat guy.
>For a second you could almost think that the fat guy would be able to keep doing this forever. An idea that would be reinforced by how he insisted on continuing to dance so JM would join him. However, he was also human and accumulated fatigue eventually caught up to him, falling on his butt onto his chair and thanking inwardly that JM didn't join him.

Uff... it's hard to do these things after a day of classes... Bonita-chan, tell me if you're free this weekend, wouldn't you like to go party with me? I know a very good place with a DJ friend of mine who is willing to reserve the place just for the two of us.

>Sitting down casually, the fat guy took a water bottle from his bag and drank its contents quickly to rehydrate himself. Once his lips stopped being dry, he brought the bottle towards Bonita-chan and offered her to drink from it.
>The tip of the bottle was packed with such a concentration of saliva that they almost looked like pearls due to the noticeable shine they emitted. It was practically impossible for anyone not to see it, but still the professor smiled with the most absolute normality as if there was nothing strange about it. Another thing, not at all suspicious, was the invitation he was making to Bonita-chan.

>>10515

<Professor! What kind of teacher are you, inciting the perverted behaviors of students!

What are you talking about Seika-chan? The job of a teacher is to support young people in their goals so they can become adults and that's what I'm doing. After all... what kind of teacher wouldn't encourage their student to climb the ladder of adulthood and become a man?

>With a serious face, the fat guy answered Seika's question.
>Being a man. There are many definitions that seek to explain the moment when one achieves that. For the law it's enough to reach the age of majority. For a father, a son becomes a man when he shows he is capable of taking care of himself. However, for the fat guy all those definitions fail to ignore something important. SEX The true line that separates adults from children was nothing more and nothing less than sex.
>If a teacher's job is defined by their ability to create young adults, then the fat man was fulfilling his role as an educator more than enough. Which means there's nothing wrong with his actions.

>>10516

<Also, I think the club rules were clear: no such behavior in the club.

Oh Rena, you misunderstood. That kind of behavior is only forbidden when it proves to be a distraction from the club's activities. Right now we're getting to know each other, and what better way to do that than through physical contact? The faster we get used to each other's bodies, the faster we'll reach true understanding.
So... why don't you try getting a bit closer to the other club members? You might not feel comfortable with me yet, but with kids your age, that shouldn't be the case, right? Let's see, go over to... let's say Katsumi, and with... Yowai, bury your face
<According to rumors, her president, that certain Sumitomo

I know her well; she has denied me participation in any parent-teacher meetings. Can you believe it? As if there were anything wrong with me showing up to those meetings. I don't know much else about her; she always avoids meeting me whenever possible. Aah... don't you think girls like that, the shy ones, add more excitement to the hunting game?

<I don't want you ending up spanking my corpse in the morgue, you dirty old pervert!

Does that mean I have permission to do whatever I want with your ashes?

>He raises an eyebrow in defiance at Ichinose's comment. Something as simple as lacking a physical body isn't enough to stop him. Not when you can do so many things with these, starting with inserting yourself inside the hole of your choice with the tip of a small vacuum cleaner and then releasing them to flood your insides...

>>10887

Seeing the little boy's result, the epic underwear professor stood up and approached him. Standing right in front of him, he quickly leaned forward, making his chin jowl bounce with an almost audible "boing." With his face practically pressed against Hisao's, he smiled and gave him permission to continue however he pleased.

>>10890

<It would be a shame if the annoying little princess didn't let herself be smelled yet, wouldn't you agree, President?

What, kid! That's three times now you've stopped to ask for permission! If you're not going to act, then let me teach you by example.

>Just as the fat professor had said, the luck of that triple 3 was being wasted on John. Tired of hearing him ask for permission and seek approval, the fat man slammed his finger on the table edge with obvious frustration.

>If supporting John to take the initiative isn't enough to make him act, then as a proper teacher, he thinks he must educate by example.

Watch closely, kid, and watch well—that's how you do it.

>After accepting >>10515's invitation, the fat man pushed John aside. He pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and brushed its tip against Seika's neck. The friction was quick, almost undetectable. Having done that, he lowered the handkerchief and brought his nostrils close to the blonde's neck. Like some kind of olfactory vampire, the fat man took such a powerful sniff it seemed to rip the girl's own body odor away.

"!!!SNIFFFFFFF!!!" Perfume, with a warm base of amber and white musk, mixed with a bit of dry vanilla. A high-end brand without a doubt... Creed Aventus perhaps?
>After a few seconds of savoring the scent with his nose held high, the fat man began to describe the aroma he experienced. Then turning toward Seika to check if his assumption about the perfume brand was correct or not. Regardless of whether he was right or wrong, the fat man would walk around the classroom to get the other two victims that Jhon had forgotten by focusing too much on Seika.

>>10508
>>10518

¡¡¡SNIFFFFFFF!!! Pear juice and Doritos flavor... nacho? You forgot to wash your hands before coming here.
I also smell a faint trace of blood, but it's not menstrual. Snif, snif, I'd say it's already dry, probably a wound from a few days ago.

>Repeating the same process of rubbing the female's neck with the handkerchief and then sniffing, the fat man also extracted the body odor of the little witch. There wasn't much to describe from what he had smelled; the girl wasn't very fond of perfumes. In fact, based on her scent and that of her hat, he deduces that Bibi prefers spending more time at home, though he keeps that comment to himself. Leaving as the only notable thing the scent of her last snack.
However, before leaving, he managed to perceive another faint scent of completely different origin. Given the closeness between Bibi and Hotaru, it was difficult for the fat man to discern whether it came from one or the other. Judging by their looks, he would assume it belongs to Hotaru and is not something she wants to discuss, so without pushing further, the fat man makes one last comment and leaves.

Saliva is antiseptic, but if you don't want to use that, I can go get some hydrogen peroxide from the infirmary.

>>10511

Did Bonita-chan meet the janitor? ¡¡¡SNIFFFFFFF!!! Uff... it's a pity that this subject's scent has mixed with the rest. But even with him, the fragrance of all of you combined remains quite an exciting smell.

>With only Bonita-chan left as part of Jhon's stolen challenge, the fat man repeated what he had previously described and proceeded to guess things using only their scents.
>Whether Bonita-chan used perfume or ate something beforehand, any other scent she might have had on her body was replaced by an even stronger one coming from the janitor. Disappointed at having to smell it in this situation, the fat man sighed. However, that feeling didn't last long, as soon he pressed the handkerchief that had passed over everyone's necks onto his own face and sniffed it with even greater depth than when he had smelled you all.
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10893 es
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>>10518
>The dark-haired boy responds to my actions, telling me about his life, the punishment, and those things, which I listen to attentively, although my face says otherwise. After that, I stay observing him for several seconds, saying absolutely nothing. My expression remained practically the same, but now I was trying to understand what he had just said.

"Wait."

>I raise an eyebrow slightly.

"You just said no one is going to hurt you again."

"But you also imply it's okay if you deserve it."

>I stay silent.

"That doesn't make much sense."

>I look directly at him, trying to find some kind of logical explanation on his face.

"If a person hurts you, then they are hurting you."

"It doesn't matter if you feel pain or not"

"It doesn't matter if it's your father or not"

"And if you say it's okay because he is also suffering..."

>I make a small pause.

"Then I suppose you can also hurt him because you are suffering."

"And he could hurt you again because he is suffering."

"And you could hurt him again."

>I stay thinking.

"That seems quite inefficient."

>My gaze lowers slightly toward his bandaged arms.

"Besides, I don't think a person should have to get used to pain for it to stop being wrong."

>I lift my gaze back up to him.

"And I don't think you deserve to be hurt either."

"People shouldn't hit you for existing."

>Silence.

"I'm saying that last part about your parents."

>I stay quiet for a few more seconds.

"What I did was different."

"I hit you because the dice said I had to do it."

>I make a pause.

"But if I had known you really didn't want..."

>I stay thinking.

"...I suppose I wouldn't have done it. lie"

"It was a game."

>I tilt my head slightly.

"Your father doesn't seem to be playing."

"So it's not the same."

>After thinking about it for a few seconds, I extend a hand and adjust his bangs a bit again, this time more carefully.

"You don't have to say it doesn't hurt."

"If it hurts, you can say it hurts."

"It's useful information."
>I withdraw my hand, and after a few seconds, I add with total naturalness.

"Oh."

"And don't you ever say you're going to stop feeling pain forever."

>I watch her.

"That's pretty counterproductive."

"You know, every day you have to check your body to see if you stepped on some glass or a rusty nail"

"very annoying"

"..."

"Because the pain might not be there, but the wounds are still there, physically or psychologically"

"..........:"

"...."

"By the way, what was your name?"

>And when that ends, after several events, it ends up with massages and the giant magic bean lady.

<Wait, wait! You don't need to pull up my school pants! You can do the massage over the clothes, really!
"No."

"It's hard to massage correctly if polyester fabric hinders movement."

"This could cause skin irritation."

>My hands continued to move and massage while her muscular legs contracted and tightened with force. They were good legs, fully exercised by years of discipline; it was undoubtedly an incredible physique. It must give several advantages in utilities if one makes use of this strength and athleticism. But then, when I stood up to check if she had a fever, I noticed she was out of her consciousness.

"...."

"Should I worry?"

>I said looking at Kinoko, who was recording? Or so it seemed, judging by the position of her phone.

"I think one of these days I'm going to charge you a commission."

>I said since it was already the second time that day she was recording me or taking photos, for who knows what, although I said it as a sarcastic joke, without sounding sarcastic at all. Slowly, I withdrew my hand from the forehead of the Enormous girl, because apparently she didn't have a fever, she just "relaxed" too much, and I approached the club leader. I heard about Doctor Wang and his unprofessionalism with approximately 50% of the school, namely the girls.

"Yes?"

"So I guess here you're in better hands."

":.."

"Is your leg okay?"

>Obviously it was; it happened two years ago, but the young woman isn't very bright, and time is relative. For example, now we were dealing with the Eskimo kiss thing, even though that passed, before or after, it doesn't matter.
<The truth is, we all have a bastard inside us
"Ah"

"I thought you meant Bastard in the literal terminology"

"So I guess you're right"

"..."

"Two Eskimo bastards?"

"I think that sounds... weird"

>So, some events passed, and we ended up with the club president's trichophagia. Undoubtedly, it was a real hair-raising story. With that, I stayed silent for a while, imagining the shape and size of those tremendous penises that ball of hair lodged in her intestines, while she mimicked it, like those fishermen describing the fish they almost caught "that big around the eye". Then I responded with more enthusiasm than usual.

<And they pulled out a hairball! THIS BIG!
":...."

":....."

"Amazing"

>It's strange that someone would say they liked the taste. Mine only reminded me of... nothing, or rather, of tasteless gelatin. Well, sometimes it tasted like shampoo, but... delicious? I wouldn't put it that way... Maybe it depends on the person? Because that would be interesting—different people, different flavors... although I suppose I shouldn't ask her that; she just told me she had to get surgery.

Then... the hug takes me completely by surprise.

"(Huh?)"

>My arms stay at my sides for a few seconds, somewhat rigid. My body is stiff, not from discomfort, but from not knowing what to do in these situations. Meanwhile, I look down, observing Kinoko's arms around me. I blink... once... twice. After a few seconds, I simply accept the hug, letting go of the stiffness. Not because I know exactly what to do, but because, apparently, she looked... happy.

<I won't fail you like your president and liberator did! I'll give everything for each one of my new members. From now on, you won't be alone anymore!

"...."

>I'm in complete silence, but being... I like being alone, but..... I look around the classroom above the club president's body. I guess now I'm here, so technically... I'm no longer alone, right? I nod slowly, as if I've just solved a math problem, and stay still for a moment longer inside the hug.
"Thank you."

>I say it sincerely. After a few seconds, I slowly raise one of my arms and place it around Kinoko. My hug is quite clumsy and uncoordinated, as if I'm trying to imitate something I've seen other people do.

>>10887
>I listen to the introductions, then look at >>10516, who lets me read the book.
"Seriously?"

"Thanks"

>I completely ignore the fact that they took a photo of me; I already had my soul stolen by the first photo, damn my misfortune.

>>10892
<Tell me if you're free this weekend—wouldn't you like to go party with me?
"The truth is, no, I'm not free."

"I was going to be lying in the forest or in my room, mutating for hours."

"It's comforting."

"But maybe another day we can go to a Dance Dance Revolution place near here."

<that's willing to reserve the spot just for the two of us.
"But professor..."

"A party with two people isn't a party."

"With luck, it'll be a funeral."

"Right?"

>With that, the professor hands me his water bottle, which I don't even notice, but I politely decline by waving my hand, because if I drank more water today after this dance, I'd end up peeing on myself.

>...

>Events pass until Jack puts on his pants because JM won't give him the leather, and he starts sniffing the necks of the other members while I watch with my gaze. First he smells the elegant girl, then the little witch, and finally he approaches me.

<"Pretty-chan, did you meet the concierge?"
"Yes."

>Then he brings his nose close to my neck and... unfortunately, my fragrance—a very faint blend of iris and violets, with a light touch of bergamota adding dry freshness over a base of white soap, clean musk, and cedarwood—couldn't be detected, thanks to the scent left by the Concierge from a few minutes ago. Plus, the scents I had weren't intense perfumes that left a striking trail behind me; you had to be relatively close to smell them.

<Uff... it's a shame that that guy's scent got mixed in with everything else.
"Maybe another time."
Rolero Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10894 es
>>10893
>I am in complete silence, but I think
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10895 es
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>>10892
>And what better way to do it than through physical contact? The faster we get used to each other's bodies, the faster we'll reach true understanding.
...The fat man might have a point. Friends over the years can come to know each other and have physical contact like hugs, and the closer they are, the more likely they are to sleep or bathe together. This happens more easily between girls. Among boys, it only occurs if they're part of a sports team; otherwise, boys don't bathe together.
—Rena wonders whether the president would make everyone shower together to build and strengthen bonds, but considering the president herself probably doesn't bathe often, Rena dismisses the idea—though if the room starts stinking, she wouldn't hesitate to suggest it later.

>So... why don't you try getting a little closer to the other club members? You might not feel comfortable with me yet, but with people your own age, that shouldn't be an issue, right? Let's see... go to... say, Katsumi and... Yowai, and bury your face deep into their chests. Surely that'll make you understand what I mean about eliminating distances.
...Huh?
—Rena tilts her head in confusion, looks around trying to spot her companions, then pauses a moment to consider how ridiculous the comparison is, and how stupid it is even to think about such a thing—
Katsumi has enormous breasts compared to the cute girl—she says, pointing at the big one and Yowai. Burying my face into Katsumi's chest would be possible, but the cute girl's breasts lack the necessary size for that. Your comparison simply makes no sense. If you'd used the fat one as an example—she points at Kuma—it would've been a proper and believable comparison. But no, the cute girl, while she has decent breasts slightly larger than mine, can't compare to the biggest ones. It'd be like someone trying to bury their face in my own breasts—since they're nearly the same size, the result would be the same. And in the case of the loli—she points at Hotaru—the result wouldn't just be null, it'd be negative...
It's like comparing you to the other fat guy -points to Takahara- he beats you in fatness and breast size since he's practically a ball of human, but you're men, so it would be different... I guess between men the comparison would be between penis or butt sizes, although I could also compare everyone's butt size -says before staring blankly for a few seconds thinking-.....
I think I'm getting off topic, on a scale of breasts, I wouldn't know for sure, Katsumi's look big, but she's wearing a baseball uniform, so it compresses her real size, added to the bra, while the fat girl's stand out more in plain sight, so giving her the benefit of the doubt this is my analysis in order of size

Katsumi
The fat one (Kuma)
President Kinoko
The pretty one (Yowai) ties more or less with the blonde (Seika) I'd have to see them closer to be sure
Then me
Her (Bonita chan)
Red (Hisao)
and last the loli (Hotaru)
That's my opinion at first glance, as for penises I'll leave that to you since you're a guy, and I think guys measure penises, in any case -looks at the black guy Valdo- they say black guys are the most endowed among males, so unless someone has a surprise, he would be in first place according to what the internet says....
-After saying all that was observed and which for Rena seemed obvious and tedious to have to explain (because it was something really obvious to see at a glance) she remained thinking, she had forgotten the point of all this, the point of said conversation, she got carried away making a mental comparison and giving her point of view, completely forgetting why she was doing it-
.....Repeat what you said? -says while eating an Oreo cookie-
>>10893
>"Seriously?"
>"Thanks"
You're welcome
-Rena just nods and continues drawing... maybe her OC needed bigger breasts to stand out, all those thoughts about breasts made Rena think her OC feels self-conscious-
Loremaster Rosaite-d8b5fc No.10896 es
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The Manifesto of Absolute Evasion: Manual Against the Tyranny of Reality
Written by: Kinoko Ichinose

Chapter II: The Pantheon of Paper Sheets or How to Forge a God with a #2 Pencil and a Worn Eraser

Stare fixedly at that blank sheet before you. Do not look at it with the boredom you reserve for standardized math exams or corporate job applications to serve coffee to bitter old men. No. Look at that sheet with the absolute respect and sacred terror owed to a universe in gestation. In this piece of cheap cellulose, my dear neophytes, lies the only frontier the damned Kamome system cannot regulate, cannot monitor, and cannot confiscate. Here you are not the average student with attention problems, nor the outcast sitting in the back row hoping to be invisible. Here you are the architect, the chisel, and the marble of your own divinity.

The first step to sending modern reality to hell is to reclaim the right of self-determination. Plastic society has assigned you a rather mediocre character sheet since birth: they gave you a social class, a "weirdo" label, physical stats dictated by the genetic lottery, and a prefabricated destiny of debt and monotony. I tell you: break that sheet! Toss it into the nearest grease trap. On the roleplaying table, we distribute our own attributes ourselves. Want to be someone strong enough to bend iron with their hands because in the real world you feel helpless? Put your best numbers in Strength. Want a mind so sharp it can decipher the mysteries of the cosmos because in class they call you an outcast? Let Intelligence be your beacon. Want a silver tongue capable of convincing a tyrant to hand over his crown? Your Charisma will be legendary.

Creating a roleplaying character is not a simple exercise in accounting with dice and modifiers. It is a ritual of invoking your true "self". When you choose your skills, your background, your fears, and your ambitions, you are planting a flag of rebellion in no-man's-land. You are claiming the right to have a purpose you yourself have chosen. The external system demands you be docile and predictable; this manifesto demands you be complex, contradictory, chaotic, and above all, magnificent.

And I do not mean merely creating perfect, boring heroes in shiny capes! What laziness is the perfection of saints! The best characters, the ones etched in fire on the club walls and in the souls of those who share the table, are those as broken and patched together as we ourselves are. A warrior who fears the dark due to a childhood trauma; a brilliant mage plunged into kleptomania from pure anxiety; a bard who sings to hide he is the last survivor of a cursed lineage. By giving life to these fictional imperfections, we are doing something wonderful: we are embracing our own real-world flaws, our quirks, our inferiority complexes, and our scars, and turning them into the engine of an epic narrative. On the game table, your defects are not a reason for mockery or exclusion; they are the most interesting feature of your character sheet, the dramatic hook that will make your campaign companions jump from their chairs to save you when danger lurks.
This is the true beauty of collective creation. When every club member places their character sheet on the old wooden table in our living room, we aren't just stacking papers to see who has the highest number. We are weaving our imaginary destinies together. We are declaring that, though outside we are invisible to one another, inside here we are a group of adventurers covering each other's backs in the depths of the Underdark. We become necessary. We become the last line of defense for the companion at our side. And when that bond activates, when the rogue's ridiculous plan succeeds thanks to the wizard's timely spell and the warrior's distraction, a spark of pure human magic ignites—something no cell phone screen, no social media algorithm, and no fucking AI will ever be able to replicate.

That is the moment time stands still. The noise of cars outside Kamome High fades away; the smell of chalk and dust transforms into the salty breeze of a pirate sea or the humid air of an ancient dungeon, and suddenly, we are truly alive. We are playing, we are creating, and we are resisting together.

I want you to understand this with every fiber of your being: this roleplaying club doesn't offer passive escape. We aren't like the social media addicts consuming content others designed to lull their minds to sleep. We are active creators of our own mythology. The pencil and eraser are our demolition tools against the walls of your gray reality. Every time you erase a hit point because your character resisted a dragon's onslaught, you're erasing a chunk of the accumulated frustration from your school week. Every time you write down a new spell or ability your character learned after overcoming an impossible trial, you're proving that you too can grow, that you aren't stuck in the mediocre destiny modernity has reserved for you.

It's highly likely that for the square-minded teachers and "normal" students at this school, watching a group of outcasts passionately debate whether a dark elf can wield a hand crossbow while leaping from a burning carriage seems the height of absurdity. Let them think whatever they want from their pedestals of boring, predictable normality. While they compete to fit into a social mold that will discard them the moment they stop being useful, we are here, in our oasis of wood and paper, building legends that belong solely to us.

So I welcome you to the table. Take your character sheets, sharpen your pencils, and prepare to write your own redemption. Don't let anyone tell you who you must be outside, because inside here, the limit of your existence depends only on how far you dare to dream.

I'm a great writer! Right?! THIS CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 3!
Kumiko##eULHjo Rosaite-350981 No.10897 es
I save cupo, since it came to me a character sheet
Rolero Bicolor Spessartite-69f4cb No.10898 pt
What is this role about?
Loremaster Rosaite-d8b5fc No.10899 es
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>>10897
We're waiting for you!

>>10898
From the adventures of the novice and crazy members of the amazing and exciting ROLEPLAY CLUB! How did we survive Kamome high school and the tyranny of reality!
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10901 es
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Seika
>>10892
It had some sense. After all, Seika's real and true friends often said something similar, and since the guys she dated weren't real men. If there was an error in the formation of men at school, someone would eventually take charge of the situation to slowly fix the great masculinity gap present at the school. After forcibly silencing her internal voice, Seika defensively raised one of her forearms, unable to hide her expression of disgust.
—Don't you have any decency...? I want to see you explain all that explicitly to a judge.

>>10890
—You're not lucky. The only active camera is the president's, and under her background, everything that exists in her digital memory is artificial intelligence or a setup.
JM showed intentions of using Seika's image to benefit the club, under this humiliation. Seika hoped not to make the shot backfire by openly declaring so many offenses. Many things could be expected from the President, whom Seika strangely saw inserting (>>10896) a very strange and completely artificial image in her dark rolebook. When did she print something like that? JM approached.
—...
Seika was no longer in a position to refuse without the blonde getting more arrogant. She hid her look of disdain by turning her head away from his attention, although her body remained in the same place. Seika ignored the rest of JM's intentions outright and simply closed her eyes, hoping the President wouldn't interfere. It would be in the middle of her thoughts that an unexpected replacement would occur.
—(Not only didn't she get impatient, but she became unbearable. How long do I have to be like this? There's no future in which I agree to the conditions of a stupid first-year pervert)
—(Stay calm and wait 10 seconds. After that, any slap or spanking won't be out of place. 10... 9...)
—(What!? Bastard! Why are you sniffing so hard?)
—Get away!
When Seika opened her eyes intending to expel the boy from her personal space, she found herself facing (>>10892) the fat professor who now held a scarf that would eventually be embroidered with "Seika" while preserving the scents. Without lowering her guard, Seika prepared to end the activity. The expert in fragrances spoke, and Seika expressed what she had been keeping in her heart for a long time, disgruntled.
—Shut up. I'll return to this club in a radiation-proof suit, wrapped in spikes, where each one will have the poison of 100 secretions from a 3-centimeter blue frog.

>>10887
With the president letting the situation run wild, Seika realized that she was a slave to the dice and that her judgment was worth very little in critical situations. Could Seika trust the beibolista bear who now wanted to interact with her? Absolutely not, Seika also saw her vulnerable to the simple touches of an albino. Knowing that Seika's charms are dimensionally more effective on male beings. Seika approached who seemed the most sensible subject, despite his skin color.
—Oh, Matogrosso! Companion Valdo, I can't believe what just happened to me alongside those two grotesque attempts at human beings. How could two men voluntarily decide to sniff a woman with such audacity...?
—It makes my stomach churn just remembering the NSFW words they said while taking advantage of their position... Image of perverts beyond redemption.
—Japan definitely should create laws to prevent sending them back to their country and protect those who, in a caffeine and modest tone, have the huge kindness of helping a high-value girl in trouble, like me. Right?
Roleron Larimar-344eb6 No.10902 es
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>>10507
>Takahara

>The fat guy feeling a shiver spread uniformly through his fat.

Ahhh why do I feel that coldness from you, little witch lady?, d-did I do something wrong?, if so I--

<"Don't get close to Hotaru-chan, or I'll cut your balls off."

YIAAHH, b-but I need them!

>He backs away scared and then observes her presentation

A magical conqueror from another world who protects her blue maiden, hmpf hmpf, truly a character, two girls in a cute relationship~~

>He has no time to keep fantasizing >>10508 because they ambush him with tickles

AHAHAHA, o-hey stop-AHAHAHAHA

>The tickles are very effective, the witch's fingers sink into the fat of his immense belly and reach his tickle receptorskek

>>10512
>>10504
I see, I see, it's incredible what a simple bad translation can impact on the future.

>The fat teacher and the president make a high-stakes criminal deal, but those were details; there were more important things, giving value to their comrades

"Yes Jhon, do it, put all your damn soul into it and be proud while you do it, don't waste that divine luck man, go ahead!".

>The club was a community, a dysfunctional family of autism, one had to support each other to flourish

>>10513

No, I'm not a bastard, but that's not what the term Bonita-chan refers to, and I couldn't use dirty words to sully your beautiful ears to describe it

>>10515
Yes, yes, totally, you're absolutely right, it was an incredible dishonor on my part to have committed such a glaring mistake, without a doubt a mind as agile and cunning as yours is a colossal and beneficial addition to this club.

<Stop. Before that I need you to throw yourself on the ground and interpret...

That sounds ridiculously specific, w-was that planned beforehand or?

>Anyway, by asking again he would obey the order, so he stood straight like a soldier, or as straight as someone whose silhouette was a snapdragon from Plants vs Zombies, and proceeded with his interpretation

Ohhh... https://youtu.be/qq_dN7ipdqE
>It was totally expected, while he writhed on the floor with stiff legs and hands moving irregularly as if he had cerebral palsy, those pig squeals escaped him as if he were being lifted by the ear by the corner farmer after he escaped and pooped in the neighbor's yard
>It wasn't the best interpretation of a catfish

>>10516
>Takahara's photo wasn't the best; his catfish mode didn't show his photogenicity
I hope you've seen my good side... huff puff

>He lies sprawled on the floor, panting from overexertion... Someone help me up?

>>10517

I'm more and more surprised by your dedication to Live.Action.Role.Play... You're truly the perfect president for a club like this!

>But now we're moving to another space(?) temporal(?)

<You're wasting it.

If I am wasting it, so be it! I could never stoop to such vile acts and betray the values my sacred parents taught me.

>Press X to doubt

I'm not that kind of man.

>Press X to doubt

It would be like showing disrespect at the dinner table, totally anti-game conduct. Nothing would hurt me more than hurting a young lady. Do you really think I'm capable of that? I just became such good friends with Hotaru-chan, right?

>He turned to look at the blue-haired girl, who was still terrified, but Takahara didn't notice.

See? Double negation equals yes, sign rules.

>But it didn't seem like the President was going to yield to his dialogue; he had to pull out the secret weapon...

So here's the deal: you delete the photo, and in exchange, I give you one I have of my cousin.

>She pulls out her phone and shows the evidence. It bore no resemblance to said cousin except for some extra weight, but it was obvious who got the good genes.

She's a SoundCloud rapper and almost certainly has an OnlyFans. We make an equivalent trade, everyone wins.

And I'm not on any bastard list, get me off there!

>Press X to doubt

>>10887

Ooh, how mysterious, Hotaru-chan. Does it have something to do with Death Note or is it a foreign surname?

>The emo dwarf continued to be easily bullied.

Don't say those things, partner. Besides, you need to eat a proper stew like the skinny girl does. In a roleplay table, no one is rejected, nor is their presence considered annoying!

>No need to say anything to Te Seika, or the GP besides looking very hardcore.

>Finally, there was Valdomero, who, having overheard his other conversations, seemed not only as a high-quality roleplayer but also someone very versed in the subject.

It's an honor to be your target for the presentation. Go ahead, my partner, I'll be your canvas.

>>10890
>Takahara, back in the past, stood up again and applauded John once more for his extreme display of trust, then fell into being his hype-man.

That's it, man! Show them the power of your dice!

>>10509
https://youtu.be/xE0pz2twr54>>10889
When does the part come where we unmask the businessman and tell us meddling teenagers?
Bibi Native Gold-d22657 No.10903 es
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>>10510
<"Sexy, eh? It's the first time I've received such a compliment."

"People in this school can be cruel sometimes, but don't listen to them; all of us girls are beautiful."

>Grabs the cookie and starts devouring it like a little mouse.

<"What kind of magic do you use? Elemental? Ancestral with summoning circles or runes? Mana-based like in a typical RPG, or my favorite, cartoon magic for its simplicity and superior potential."

>She pauses to think for a few seconds.

"Little one, little one, don't you know? They all exist; they're just different disciplines to channel the universe's energies. I love RPGs and Runes; those are the ones I use most, but the one you mentioned is too powerful, and I'm training to get it."

>Flexes her biceps, which have absolutely no strength whatsoever.

"Do you know anything about magic?"

>>10515
<"What do they call them? Pokémons? Once I saw a very wise and coherent man warning about their influence on young boys and girls in development..."

"Who said that? It must have been some dirty archon trying to stop you from reaching Gnosis. Believe me, Pokémon has nothing to do with that. I grew up with them, and look at me—I'm the peak of human performance."

>Smiles proudly.

<"If I did it, I'd be 16, but if you did it correctly, you'd be... 14? Yes, 14. I learned to put on makeup around that age."

"Please, Princess, I don't think you'd look bad without makeup. Admire me instead; I'm natural and incredible. Although, well, you can't battle my father's alien genes combined with my mother's Earthling genes."

<"Scared of the president? Not at all. She's crazy. It's true that crazy people aren't locked up in asylums forever, but there's no need to fear. Society's weight will drag her down someday, and she'll end up as an old woman with 200 mangy cats living in a hollow apartment."

"I say she'll end up as a scientist; her mana level is very high. You have great potential to grow, but your third eye is closed. You must open it to see the universe's truths. Most of us here already have it open, but you resist. Don't worry though; the more time you spend with us, the more we'll influence you, and you'll end up opening it."

>Places her fingers in a pyramid shape on her forehead.

"Most successful people on this filthy planet full of corruption either have their third eye open or descend from people like that, currently controlled by England... Fuck, how I hate them..."

>Clicks her tongue while you check her skull. There aren't many lice, actually; mostly it's a pile of dandruff.

>>10518
>Bibi gently strokes Hotaru's head, trying to calm her after the huge trauma caused by coming into contact with the McDonald's Devourer.

"It was a monster... I swear, Bibi, it was disgusting. I felt his fingers... covered in some horrible grease, like he'd been eating french fries straight out of the bag before touching me. His hands were sweaty and hot. Please, I beg you, pull out your wand or whatever and cast a petrification spell... or an explosive diarrhea curse. I don't want that thing anywhere near me for the rest of my life."

"Don't worry, Hotaru. Before you know it, he'll lose all that fat. You know I always have a trick up my sleeve for you."

<Says while pulling a cheesecake out of her sleeve and handing it to Hotaru. There was no way, no idea how that fit in that sleeve.

>And before she could realize it, she was surrounded by two people, which made her almost dizzy from the amount of CO2 filling the cabin. Was it possible to open a window? But she had to hold on because she was with Hotaru; in the end, it was she who forced her to come.
<What kind of mage are you supposed to be?

"To answer your question, my mother and father are strong conquerors, so it's normal that I inherited a bit of their magic, but I'm looking for my own style, and although I have tried necromancy, it didn't work out, so I've mostly stuck to basic matter manipulation and teleportation."

<That style suits you perfectly.

"Thanks, do you maybe want me to get you something similar? We could go get your own outfit; maybe you have potential in some aspect of magic or as a warrior."

<They are usually an extension of human degradation, and the environment is inherently hostile.

"Well, Melkor imbued his being into everything, mainly into gold, causing them to degrade humanity, which is why the ring is made of gold, all to divert them from Ilúvatar's plan, so one could say it's a bit of everything, don't you think?"

<And why did you guys get involved in this?

>His lore-dumping was interrupted by such an invasive question; it didn't bother him, but it did make him a little uncomfortable, but since both had already answered, it was now her turn, so she spoke while stroking Hotaru's head.

"I don't like being at home either, though lately I've been there because I have nothing else to do, and I don't like school either, but I can't stay outside because there are very strong evil warriors on the streets. Plus, I can't leave Hotaru alone. I thought this club would be the best opportunity we both had to make friends."

>She scratches her nose nervously; she has already tried many clubs, but they always ended up bullying her until she quit. You could say she's been through more clubs than fingers on a hand.

>>10887
>She writes down everyone's name in her notebook, then nods, before looking at Hotaru for a moment with a nervous smile.

"Do you want to ask me, or do you just want to know?"

>She says while continuing to stroke Hotaru's head.

>>10892
<!!!SNIIFFFFF!!! Pear juice and Doritos flavor... nacho? You forgot to wash your hands before coming here.

>She blushes a little; truth is, she never washes her hands, only when going to public restrooms because otherwise she'd be publicly humiliated, or when her fingers get too sticky.

"Uh... I ate Doritos. How did you know? Are you Tanjiro?"

<I also smell a faint scent of blood, but it's not menstrual. Sniff, sniff, I'd say it's already dry, probably a wound from a few days ago.

"Damn, you even know about that? Do you have a dog's sense of smell? Are you a demi-human?"

<Saliva is antiseptic, but if you don't want to use that, I can go get some hydrogen peroxide from the infirmary.

>She looks at Hotaru for a moment, then nods slightly.

"We'll go get hydrogen peroxide later anyway; I also have a band-aid in my backpack, don't worry."

>She smiles.

"Thank you very much, you're a very wise man. When I conquer the world, I'll appoint you chancellor of some planet."

>>10902
<YIAAHH, b-but I need them!

"Don't worry, magic is only used to make people happy. Besides, don't stress Hotaru too much, hahaha."

>She laughs happily; she had changed from annoyed to happy seeing you pee yourself, so she stopped scaring you.

<A conquering mage from another world protecting her blue-haired maiden, hmph hmph, truly a character. Two girls in a lovely relationship.

"Exactly, Hotaru is a maiden, a flower that must not be attacked, because I am her protector. I will fight with fire and blood if anyone harms her."

Quickly, as revenge for what he did to Hotaru, she continues stroking him hard until he's completely exhausted.

>>10514
>After reading everything, she hands it over to Bonita.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10904 es
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>>10890
>>10901
>>10892
>>10891
>>10893
>>10902
>>10508
>The "battle for Seika's neck" had turned into absolute chaos inside the club room. The girl tried to resist the onslaught as best she could, but the whimsical magic of the dice had left her at a clear disadvantage. While the noble and pompous blonde fought to avoid her fate, Kinoko Ichinose watched the scene from the table with an expression of pure morbid ecstasy.

>She gazed at the absolute chaos unfolding before her eyes with a fascination that was almost sickening. The scene was worthy of a twisted Renaissance masterpiece, and the president wasn't about to let it go to waste. Bringing her hand to her fanny pack, she pulled out her camera at the speed of light and began snapping photos nonstop, the flash illuminating the frenzy. Between shots, a string of thick saliva began sliding down the corner of her mouth as she emitted broken gasps, hyperventilating like an animal in heat pushed to the limit of emotion.

Kinoko: By the gods of the multiverse, this is pure gold content! Look at that gloriously beautiful visual composition! A pristine, refined, and noble lady cornered and surrounded by two filthy and heartless perverts... It's the ultimate dark fantasy! I'm definitely uploading this with the tags #Gangbang, #InminentSex and #SexualHarassment! Muajajaja!

[[K15
>While JM hesitated and mentally prepared to lunge with his nose toward Seika's neck, a sudden sensation made the hair on his skin stand up. Two frozen palms, almost icy and devoid of any human warmth, suddenly landed on the small of his back, right where the torso loses its name. Looking down uneasily, the boy came face-to-face with the unsettling figure of Gore Predator. The sinister boy, his face covered in disturbing black-and-white makeup and curiously lacking eyebrows, looked up at him from below. He wore a wide, unnatural grin stretching ear to ear, keeping his lips pressed tight without showing a single tooth.

>With morbid, rhythmic slowness, his cold fingers began pressing and kneading the skin over the shirt fabric, executing an unnecessarily detailed and meticulous massage on JM's lower back. Gore Predator was the typical eerily silent type, a lover of visceral gore whose mere presence conveyed crushing discomfort. Without stopping his firm kneading, he lifted his fixed gaze to lock eyes directly with JM.

Gore Predator: You have very soft skin... delicate musculature. A clean cut with a carbon steel butcher's cleaver would slice through your tissue like warm butter.

>After finishing the sentence, he withdrew his freezing hands, grotesquely licked his lips, and stood up. He slid into absolute silence toward a corner of the table, moving with the spine-chilling rigidity of a mime.

>>10895
>>10891
>The female Goliath brought both hands to her mouth, opening her large eyes wide with absolute panic after hearing Rena's unusual request.

Katsumi: "A baseball bat?! R-Rena-chan... please tell me you're not going to use it to hurt anyone... I can get you one from the baseball club's storage, we could even go steal it together if you want! But you must promise me you'll only use it for playing and never to attack a person, a little animal... not even the little plants!"

>She fixed her gaze with sudden, innocent determination, sincerely hoping to influence the autistic girl's behavior. Immediately after, while watching Rena silently memorize the name of each present member, Katsumi tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. A small smile formed on her lips; deep down, she found Rena extremely likable and couldn't understand why the dangerous delinquents of the Onna-gumi gang were so dead set against her.

>However, the calm lasted only a heartbeat. Upon hearing that Rena had just announced a detailed classification regarding the breast size of every club member, Katsumi's face turned violently red. Smoke practically poured from her ears as she curled into a ball on her chair, desperately trying to cover her enormous body from Rena's analyzing gaze. Beside her, Yowai discreetly crossed her arms to cover her bust. Kinoko, on the other hand, let out a haughty millionaire's laugh while shaking hers shamelessly, caring nothing about anything.
>But the most unexpected reaction came from Kuma. The chubby girl with glasses felt deeply flattered to end up in second place. She was fascinated by being objectified as mere meat. With cheeks slightly flushed and a kind smile to mask her urgent need for attention, she slowly approached Rena.

Kuma: Wow, I didn't think you were such a lusty pervert... But for your information, you should know that my breasts are extremely heavy, ultrasensitive, and always hot from accumulated fat... If you squeeze them, they drip aromatic sweat.

>Saying this, the overflowing water tank began shaking her bulging chest from side to side, making it tremble grotesquely and erotically millimeters from Rena's face, desperate to be sexualized and rise to first place. Suddenly, she started tickling her, an attack she had rolled on the dice after choosing her, and taking advantage of them talking about her tits, she rubbed her fat bags all over the small autistic girl's body, dropping much of her weight on her—and Kuma is heavy, plus sweaty, and curiously smells like a mix of fast food and mint.

>>10892 ¡¿333?! YOU GET A +10 ON YOUR NEXT USE OF THE ZOCCHIEDRO OF DESTINY!
>Little Hisao stared at Jack with genuine horror. It was the same expression of absolute trauma someone would have seeing the infamous "2 Girls 1 Cup" video for the first time. The tiny elementary-aged student's lips trembled as much as his fragile knees. His stature was so ridiculously low that the colossal shadow of the fat teacher covered him completely, making him feel crushed as if facing a rampaging colossus kaiju.

>Out of nowhere, Hisao had the teacher's face just millimeters from his innocent, pristine, abused, and bruised effeminate little face. The boy looked straight into the adult's eyes like someone trying to challenge their aggressor, though his pupils had transformed into chaotic spirals betraying his animalistic panic. Fulfilling the punishment, the child pressed his tiny nose against Jack's big, greasy nose to give him the blessed Eskimo kiss. However, the trauma was so great that Hisao's mind seemed to disconnect completely. The boy went completely out of it and started leaning forward, about to collapse onto the teacher.

>His virgin lips were about to be contaminated by Jack's mouth—who knows what dark places he'd put it before! Just millimeters away from a disastrous contact. But, just when the catastrophe seemed imminent, Hisao's body reacted. The boy let out a violent, thunderous sneeze that propelled him hard backward, saving his lips by pure miracle.
>The explosion shot a dense blob directly onto the teacher's face. It was thick, viscous snot, full of repulsive lumps and a radioactive green hue that looked more like toxic slime or alien fluid. The hot substance spread slowly and heavily over Jack's entire face, including his whole double chin, dripping with an unpleasant sheen.

Hisao: H-H-Achoo! I-I'm so sorry, professor... It's just... I-I'm allergic to human contact...

>The child rubbed his nose with his forearm-

>>10902
>Kinoko tilted her hand with disdain and a mocking smile upon hearing such an absurd trade.

Kinoko: I don't want to see a Jabba the Hutt or Majin Buu with any of your obese genes! Fat girls don't interest me, which is why I ignore Kuma even though deep down she's a bunny in heat.

>But upon noticing Takahara's cousin's photo on the phone, she let out a surprised scream like an old lecher. She snatched the phone and pressed her face against the screen, completely smearing it with saliva.

Kinoko: By the gods of the metaverse! That bikini, those curves, that celestial face! Give me all her info now! Where she lives, age, occupation, name, socials, and even her IP address. Doxx her for me!

>In front of Takahara, she deleted the photos of him giving Bonita-chan an Eskimo kiss.

>On the other hand, Hotaru gave a dry reply; she was less traumatized now and looked furious at the big-bellied one.

Hotaru: Don't talk to me.

>Likewise, Hisao smiled warmly, grateful not to be rejected, and made a genuine bow.

Hisao: I-I hope to be your faithful squire in some of the roles we play... A-A friend...

>Finally, Yowai said nothing; she just patted her arm in silence to check her thinness, feeling the bone directly.

>Just then, Valdo approached Takahara with a wide smile and a medieval knight tone. He thanked permission elegantly and even took the trouble to perform the secret greeting of nerdy roleplayers and medieval fantasy worshippers, hoping Takahara would know it... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VvKO65Lbp0

Valdo: Greetings, noble veteran! There is no need to speak like an evil normie before my presence. It shall be an honor to communicate in the language of ancient legends... I thank you for granting free access to your sacred body of flesh and fat.

>Without hesitation, he began tickling his sides, then his bulging belly, and finally his armpits with surprising strength. Suddenly, Valdo stopped dead, choking. He quickly pulled out his inhaler and inhaled hard to stop the asthma attack. Upon recovering, he sighed.

Valdo: Because of this cursed breath, I could never play soccer, disappointing my Brazilian father...

>After catching his breath, he smiled normally again.
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>>10893
>>10894
>Hisao remained absolutely motionless before the silver-haired girl as he listened to every word of her overwhelming reflection. At first, the boy's reaction was one of primitive terror. His face twisted into a grimace of absolute nervousness; the mere idea of questioning his parents, of harboring a thought against the authorities that dominated his life, paralyzed him. Going against them, even within the confines of his own mind, was such a sacrilegious act that it made his knees buckle. His eyes, framed by dark circles and bandages, trembled with the dull horror of someone who feels the ground beneath their feet is about to collapse. However, as Bonita-chan's cold and raw reason advanced, dismantling one by one the justifications for his pain, Hisao's panic began to transform. The expression of dread gave way to an eerie calm. The internal contradiction that was gnawing at him was suffocated by the relentless logic of the platinum-haired girl.

>Even with cheeks flushed with shame, Hisao's mind seemed to clear for the first time. It was right in the middle of the girl's soliloquy when the small dark-haired boy opened his lips to utter a single phrase, almost imperceptible but heavy with tragic weight.

Hisao: My parents aren't the only ones who beat me...

>After letting out that revelation, the boy fell back into absolute silence, adopting a timid and almost submissive posture. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to the classroom tiles and let out a long sigh. It seemed that thanks to Lebedeve's words he finally had the answer to all his woes, the exact map to free himself from his torment. But instead of rejoicing, Hisao recoiled from that truth in horror. The solution terrified him as much as if he were standing before a wild beast he knew he could tame, but didn't dare to touch due to the sheer panic of being devoured by it. He was weak; Hisao knew perfectly well that he was infinitely weak, and that cowardice shamed him to the bone.

Hisao: Thanks...

>With that dry and muted thank you, the boy retreated to a corner of the room, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, submerged in his thoughts. He left behind a dense feeling of frustration in Bonita-chan, who knew her speech had struck deep, but that it clashed head-on with a slave mentality worthy of study for Nietzsche or Stockholm syndrome, so deeply rooted that it rejected the hand trying to rescue him, wanted help but wouldn't accept it when she saw it right in front of her out of fear.
>On the other hand, the scene with Katsumi was a disaster. The giantess was completely knocked out after the tendon massage. Her pupils vibrated dilated, her giant body shuddered in involuntary spasms, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she repeated like a scratched record, with a panting and exhausted voice: "N-Not so hard, please... slower...". She was unable to answer any questions, needing several minutes to process what had happened... Although yes, she was fine.

>At that moment, the atmosphere with the president took a radical turn. While they hugged, Kinoko felt Bonita-chan return the gesture clumsily and uncoordinatedly, as if an android trying to imitate human affection. At first, Kinoko gently rubbed her back, but within seconds, the president's perverted nature resurfaced without any filter. The gentle rubbing turned into shameless and lustful grope all over the platinum-haired girl's back, giving her an inevitable shiver. Moments later, a warm drip was felt on Lebedeve's shoulder: it was Kinoko's drool, who openly drooled upon realizing she had her new member trapped between her claws. Not to mention, the green-haired girl took advantage of the closeness to rub her own breasts against the silver-haired girl's, evaluating Shizuku's firm volume to check if the annotations of Rena's famous tier list were correct, confirming that the president's chest was just a little bigger than average. The whole touching scene vanished into a cloud of lewd behavior, leaving a bizarre image but at least Bonita-chan had seen another side of Ichinose, at least for a couple of seconds.

>Shortly after the president let her go, another member, Yowai, approached her walking with some discomfort. It wasn't bad vibes, but the typical natural shyness between two strangers who are just meeting.

Yowai: Hi... You see, when I got to choose someone for my draw, I picked you because honestly I didn't want to do anything perverted with a guy. Truth is, I don't have the health or energy to deal with any lustful person today. I got assigned to dance... but it's no big deal. I usually record dances for TikTok when I feel strong enough, although well, that doesn't happen every day... Hehe! Anyway, please don't move, okay?

>She gave her a pleasant smile to break the ice and, asking her to stay still, positioned herself right in front of Bonita-chan to start executing the brief and modern choreography, basically the cat gif one but ending with a https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cI4Ave91V0 before laughing under her breath; she's a girl who seems "cool" despite looking a bit off-kilter.

>>10901
>Ijuuin Seika distanced herself from that madness and walked straight toward Valdo, seeking a ray of sanity in that chaotic room. Upon hearing her speak about how boorish JM and Master Jack turned out to be, the tan-skinned boy awkwardly adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Despite having the best physical presence among the club boys, Valdo was an incorrigible nerd obsessed with medieval fantasy, and his experience with women was nonexistent. A nervous smile formed on his lips; the proximity of one of Kamome's most popular girls made his cheeks flush with a subtle blush. However, he managed to keep his composure and respond in a measured voice.

Valdo: Well... I can't deny that, after all, I'm a man and I am attracted to the opposite sex. But my interests in this club are more directed toward living fantastic epics in mythological worlds than fondling breasts or smelling underwear. By the way, I appreciate your interest in gaijins, but I'm a hafu born in Osaka. My father is Brazilian and my mother is Japanese, so I'd like not to be deported.

>The boy looked around with evident panic upon hearing Seika's cry for help. He didn't know what to do and tried to reach for his dice to roll a Wisdom check, but knowing there was no time, he took a sudden deep breath. Quickly, he unbuttoned and removed his outer button-up shirt, left only in his tank top. The gesture revealed his muscular arms and a notably defined torso, the fruit of enviable natural genetics rather than hours of training. He used the garment to cover the blonde girl's shoulders and offered her a pity-filled smile.

Valdo: It's also a bit your fault for how you dress, you know? Haven't you thought that revealing so much skin provokes the lustful ones?

>He said it with a friendly tone of good faith, revealing that despite his physique, he remained a social misfit without tact. At that moment, Katsumi's heavy shadow loomed over them. The girl, ridiculously tall and muscular, advanced trembling like a leaf, her face completely red and covering her eyes with her hands. She exclaims Seika's surname incorrectly.

Katsumi: "Iyuin-san," sorry in advance for this! Please don't send your army of admirers to attack me; I have a terrible phobia of physical violence!

>Without giving her time to react, Katsumi extended her enormous hand and placed a sausage-thick finger on the back of the blonde's neck, slowly sliding it down her entire throat. The giantess's skin was hard, rough, and coarse like a trucker's; the touch was so violent it made Seika feel as if her white neck skin were being ripped off, just to smell that finger which held the essence of the blonde. Having fulfilled the dice challenge, Katsumi withdrew her finger, brought it to her nose, and sniffed it with shame. With her face flushed in embarrassment, she backed away in clumsy steps while looking at Seika with absolute terror over possible consequences. Poor Seika; she would surely need a boiling water bath upon arriving home after all that sniffing.
>>10903
>The blue-haired girl began eating the dessert with a certain sense of relief, but peace lasted barely a breath. As she lowered her gaze to the dice, the girl nearly choked. An intense and sudden blush dyed her entire cheeks. With her face flushed in embarrassment, she averted her eyes toward a corner of the classroom while letting out a long, trembling sigh.

Hotaru.: N-There's no need for you to ask me that... I... I already know what color they are... Sorry, really sorry! It wasn't on purpose... Today when my pencil fell near your desk... I accidentally looked up. I was just curious, I'm not a pervert!... They're red...

>Trying to hide her overwhelming shyness, she buried her face back into Bibi's chest, letting silence cover her confession.

>Meanwhile, Valdo listened to Bibi's words about her origins and magical affinities with his eyes wide open behind his glasses, completely fascinated by the level of commitment and lore the girl infused into her background.

Valdo: Impressive! Defining your parents as conquerors gives your lineage tremendous epic weight. Considering your affinity with teleportation, you could specialize in "Quantum Translocation Magic" or the art of "Arcane Meshes," which would allow you to move matter at the atomic level like the ancient mages of the Order of Theurgists. I truly admire how you seek your own style! I'd love to meet your parents someday to witness their conqueror aura; they must be like the Emperor of Warhammer or King Aegon the Conqueror from A Song of Ice and Fire.

>When Bibi launched her deep reflection on Melkor imbuing his power into the gold of the world to corrupt Ilúvatar's creation, Valdo almost lost his breath. His eyes shone with the pure ecstasy of a true scholar of the legendarium.

>Yowai, for her part, listened to everything with a pleasant smile that grew wider and more serene. She closed her eyes slightly and let out a small, understanding giggle.

Yowai: I understand perfectly. Most clubs are too noisy or filled with bad people... much worse than the ones here. I'm glad I came. Hey, Bibi... would you like us to be friends? I'd love to make real friendships in this club.

>She extended her closed fist with a friendly attitude for the witch to bump it.

Yowai: I'd love for you to teach me a couple of your spells so I can become a mage as awesome as you.

>At the proposal, Valdo stepped forward with elegance, adopting an upright and sober posture as if holding an invisible shield.

Valdo: You can count on it. As a faithful knight of this table, I swear by my honor to defend my allies from any villain or nefarious beast that dares disturb the peace of you, Lady Bibi. No evil shall prevail under my guard!
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>>10902
>>10901
>>10895
>>10903
>>10892
>>10893
>>10891
>>10890
>>10508
>Before the chaos of introductions and interactions could escalate further among the table, a sharp, thunderous sound abruptly cut off any murmuring.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

>President Kinoko Ichinose clapped her palms together with excessive sonic force, delivering three booming claps that made the plastic cups on the table vibrate and forced everyone into instant silence. She adjusted her thick bottle-lens glasses on the bridge of her nose with a wide, radiant smile.

Kinoko: Attention everyone! Enough with the preludes! I am immensely pleased to see how you are gradually getting to know each other, sharing your traumas, and generating that beautiful synergy of complicity among members. Without a doubt, this will lay the foundation for a strong and destructive association among us... However! I must remind you that this is the very Roleplaying Club and not the club for telling each other our tragic and insignificant lives. So the supreme moment has arrived to ROLEPLAY!

>She accompanied the exclamation by raising both fists in the air with almost manic enthusiasm. Her eyes shone with genuine devotion as she walked with quick steps towards the wooden shelves laden with tomes and boxes.

Kinoko: Normally, as the great roleplaying leader that I am, I love for each of you to propose genres and ideas to launch the Zocchihedro of Destiny and let chance choose our path. But since this is our glorious inaugural session and I don't intend to waste a single more second of my valuable reality-evasion time, I have taken the beautiful luxury of personally choosing today's title. I have selected a not-so-popular roleplaying game, a true hidden gem that many purist roleplayers consider practically lost media.

>She kept her index finger raised in the air as she examined with surgical precision the spines of dozens of boxes meticulously arranged in alphabetical order on the shelves.

Kinoko: The genre chosen for today is dark fantasy. And don't give me surprised looks, I know perfectly well it's the genre you're most familiar with thanks to your minds rotten by melancholic TikTok edits and YouTube lore explanation videos at three in the morning. So there's no excuse!
>With a fluid and precise movement, Kinoko grabbed a box that looked aged, worn at the corners, and with a sober and oppressive design. She yanked it from the shelf and held it above her head as if offering a sacred reliquary to the heavens, shouting the title at the top of her lungs.

Kinoko: VERMIS!!

>Her voice echoed off the four walls of the classroom. Immediately, she strode purposefully towards the end of the table reserved for the Game Master and dropped the box with a dull thud that kicked up a faint speck of dust. Without losing a single second, the president began to deploy her entire arsenal as a narrator with a methodical and almost obsessive mastery.

>First, she unfolded the imposing "Game Master Screen" in front of her, that three-panel fortress of rigid cardboard that hides the GM's rolls and displays combat tables, conditions, and rule modifiers on its inner face. To her left, she placed a cylindrical tube of green Pringles and an icy bottle of pineapple soda, which she uncapped, letting out a soft hiss of gas. To her right, she arranged with almost military order several spiral notebooks for secret notes, black ink pens, sharpened graphite pencils, and bread-crumb erasers. Next to the screen, she tipped over a velvet bag from which dozens of multi-faceted dice in jet black, purple, and dark green tones spilled out, scattering across the table.

>Subsequently, she opened the Vermis box and extracted its treasures: she unfolded a map printed on a sort of rough parchment with dark and macabre strokes, placed a set of small cards with disturbing illustrations of objects and curses, and arranged on the map a series of miniatures made of hardened plastic in monstrous and decadent shapes.

>Satisfied with the staging, Kinoko took her seat in her folding chair. With a huge feline smile that indicated she was about to enjoy every second, she stretched out her arm and turned on the old recorder to play a melody that would set the mood for what they were about to experience.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRn_gfltbhw
>She adjusted her glasses, opened the foundational Vermis manual, and drastically changed her tone of voice. All previous hyperactivity and comedy vanished in an instant. Her voice became deep, slow, laden with a hypnotic and passionate solemnity, resonating with the mastery of an ancient historian or a tragic bard reciting a forgotten poem about ruins and ashes. The classroom atmosphere completely changed, dragging the minds of everyone present into the depths of that narrative abyss.
Kinoko: A corpse kneels by a well, mesmerized by the reflection of its living flesh, it wonders what could have been and what might have been, and as long as the moon shines, the faint illusion will prevail, a light shines in the darkness and you wonder what flesh is your flesh... That corpse is you!

>The president paused calculatedly, her gaze sweeping over the stunned faces at the table as the background music underscored the coldness of her words.

Kinoko: In Vermis, the world is in decay, children are barely born, and the gods have been cursed and killed, thus destroying any hope for the future, only a desperate prayer to atone for the sins of the past seems to offer some solace amidst so much suffering. In this story, we will be a corpse in search of a new opportunity, to begin our journey we will have to choose what kind of flesh we will have to reincarnate into, and said flesh can mutate throughout the journey depending on our actions, you can have good flesh or bad flesh...

>She leaned slightly over the GM screen, letting the shadow of her silhouette fall across the parchment map.

Kinoko: The good one says... A light cannot fade in the darkness. It will shine even in the darkest corners of the world... While the bad one says... Darkness is eternal, it is infinite, relentless. No one can escape it. We were born in light and we rot in darkness... Beware of statuses that can PERMANENTLY damage your flesh and mind... Infection... Terror... Sleep... Petrification... Curse... Madness... Blindness... Possession... White Hives...

>Her tone became almost liturgical as she named the game's ancient entities, raising a hand to emphasize each sacred name.

Kinoko: The known gods of Vermis are superior beings, deities beyond our knowledge who demand devotion, punishment, or sacrifice, some are older than time, some sit on their thrones, and others are invisible to our eyes, they have shaped the world... Ghylak, the cursed! Dorvus, the truth! Murgo, the tireless! Gurvek, the great! Marko, the oracle! Ketereth, the wrath...!

>With a dramatic final flourish, Kinoko gently tapped her palm against the table, concluding the introduction with a spark of intensity in her eyes.
Kinoko: There are 11 characters available that you can select if you don't want to fill out the form for creating an OC adventurer. These are the sheets for the 11 characters you can choose from freely. Obviously, only one per person and no repeats. Beyond that, your OC is free to your imagination within the decadent and rotten world of Vermis. Are you ready to mold your flesh and fill the void of these dead gods?!

>The silence in the classroom was absolute. Kinoko's narration had been so impeccable, atmospheric, and absorbing that it would have deserved an international narrative performance award, making the fourteen club members forget the school walls for an instant to feel themselves on the edge of a forgotten precipice.

>Without breaking the fascination of the moment, the president slid two perfectly organized stacks of papers across the table's wood. On one side, a small stack with the blank format designed for those who wanted to forge their own "adventurer" from scratch; on the other, the stack containing the pre-generated sheets of the 11 game characters. Likewise, she handed out two additional sheets printed separately with the compendiums of the Gods and the detailed list of Altered States so everyone could browse them freely.

>Finally, Kinoko leaned back in her folding chair, crossed her arms firmly over her chest, and adjusted her glasses with a gesture of pure self-sufficiency.

Kinoko: The table is set, my esteemed corpses. You have exactly 15 minutes from now to choose a pre-made sheet or create your own character on the blank sheet. I'll let you know that you can choose a sheet and give it a different appearance. You can give your own appearance to the adventurer you choose; that can be modified, but nothing else. Think carefully, because once you cross the threshold of Vermis, death will be the least of your problems. Get to work!


/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

ADVENTURER SHEET

<Name
<God you worship (You can have no god)
<History
<Cursed item
<Abilities (Only 1)
<Stats (You have 10 points to distribute)
-Strength
-Intelligence
-Faith
-Willpower

[File omitted due to size (>10MB): 8f41dc1409afac4783cf343d08448175e7c9f4c14f4d1b7d291d6b3bcdaad1c4.png]
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>>10906
PLAYABLE CHARACTERS

<Mad Pricker
"Their origins are completely unknown. Some say they are a kind of cult, others claim they are mindless minions of an evil god. Their armor is covered in deadly spikes, and their iron gloves prevent them from wielding any weapon. Rumors say the helmet is actually filled with spikes on the inside, meaning they aren't chaotic and hostile by choice, but desperately seek help, enduring constant torture. Their spike-covered gauntlets are effective in close combat and provide protection against sharp weapons."

-Item: Spiked gauntlets.

-Ability: None.

-Strength: 💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀
-Willpower: 💀💀

<Lost Old Glory
"Once a hero, now a lost soul with no purpose in life, abandoned by loved ones and by the very people he once fought for. He faced countless indescribable horrors but always returned. Trapped in his memories, unable to process the past, the 'old glory' wanders dark forests and forgotten villages, searching for a reason to live. Armed with the witch's tongue, a tool capable of detecting nearby evil presence through vibrations."

-Item: Broken insignia, a symbol of pride and memory of the past. Sword of oblivion.

-Ability: Witch's tongue.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀
-Willpower: 💀💀

<Waste of Life
"Expelled from every village and hated by all, cursed repeatedly and guilty of many crimes, yet shows no apparent malice. Some say this individual isn't human at all, but the embodiment of all our flaws. Each of their actions is driven by madness and greed. Escaped punishment many times, yet never learned a lesson. Armed only with a bone dagger, carrying a necklace bearing a child's portrait—likely stolen."

-Item: Beloved necklace

-Ability: Bone dagger

-Strength: 💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀💀
-Faith:
-Willpower: 💀💀💀💀
<Murk Sage
"This mage possesses incredible mind-altering powers, capable of creating all kinds of illusions and toying with the minds of their enemies. The large metal helm acts as a catalyst for their abilities, but they are completely helpless in daylight. Dark sages are masters of illusionary arts, bending shadows to create all manner of nightmares. When darkness fades, their power diminishes greatly; they can survive on the small amount of darkness within their helmets, but without shadows to hide in, they are utterly defenseless. Armed with a staff that can also serve as a mace, and bearing the talisman of lunar murder—which makes the moon vanish during night, plunging it into total darkness in their favor."

-Object: Beloved necklace

-Ability: Bone dagger

-Strength: 💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀
-Willpower: 💀💀

<Stone Scholar
"The stone scholar has his face pressed tightly against stones bound to his head, enduring constant pain—a sacrifice that grants him infinite wisdom. A master of sorcery, he is wicked and intelligent, yet fragile. A scholar without stone is doomed to a miserable and pitiful life. They are unable to smell or see due to scars left by rocks strapped to their faces for years. They crawl endlessly in search of enlightenment. Armed with a stone cane, which aids both in walking and casting spells, carrying the bone of stone—a rock shaped like a vertebra—that they embed into their backs as a sign of devotion."

-Object: Beloved necklace

-Ability: Bone dagger

-Strength:
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀💀💀💀
-Willpower:

<Princess Nail
"Their loyalty knows no bounds; they are tools of the princess, used to achieve her desires: crown enemies, unreachable treasures, peace, or war. They will accomplish their mission or die trying. The princess herself ties a lock of her hair onto the swords of her most loyal knights, so they may feel her presence and love within them during every battle. Devoted to the princess's wishes, they never question their duty."
-Item: Symbol of devotion, a long sword with a lock of blonde hair on its hilt.

-Ability: Bone Fermenter, a stance that makes enemy bones brittle when thrown.

-Strength: 💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith:
-Will:💀💀💀💀💀

<Infant Seeker
"She is a mother embarking on a desperate quest to find her son, who was taken from her by a witch. In these lands, young children often disappear, the birth rate is low, and witches are lurking, constantly searching for these children, whom they consider a precious delicacy. This mother will not rest until she is reunited with her son. Memories of the brightest days with him are her source of determination. No matter how long and arduous the journey, her hope will remain intact."

-Item: Mama's Doll, a doll made of gray hair.

-Ability: Wicker Basket, used to store ingredients she collects for food.

-Strength:
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀💀
-Will:💀💀💀💀💀

<Ratman
"He was once a man afflicted by a curse, but over time he lost his humanity and now has no memory of the man he once was. He has wandered the sewers of the capital for so long that he has become a sort of fable to scare children."

-Item: Beast Eye, they can see any prey in the dark.

-Ability: Beast Tongue, can infect with many bacteria with a single bite.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith:
-Will:💀

<Miner Knight
"These knights were born and raised in the pestilent mines, which gave them a very high tolerance to toxins and diseases. Their senses are highly developed; they can hear, smell, and see almost like creatures of the night. The pestilent mines were once a place that provided materials and goods to the capital, to the lower towns, and occasionally knowledge to those who dug deeper in search of secrets of the old world."
-Object: Spiced oil, used in miners' lamps, slightly dulls the smell of death. Miner's mace.

-Ability: Luminous spores, used in the mine to mark forgotten paths.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith: 💀
-Will: 💀💀💀

<Prophet
"He is the last member of a religion hunted down and eradicated by the crown. They worshipped the god of the old world, who granted them countless miracles and revealed grim prophecies of a dark future. Marko, the god of the old world, shared his knowledge and visions with his devoted followers. Though Marko was beheaded long ago, his mummified head still speaks to those who know how to listen, and over time, the visions began revealing a future filled with death and decay."

-Object: Effigy of Marko, a shit-headed likeness resembling the god of the old world's severed head—ask it and it answers. Also used in sorcery and curses.

-Ability: Satchel of incense, used to purify rituals or enhance them.

-Strength: 💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀💀
-Will: 💀💀💀

<Cursed Fool
"This brave warrior suffered a terrible loss. He found a mysterious whispering stone that showed him the way to bring his beloved back from the dead—but since then, he has been enslaved by those whispers. The whisperer is known to be the remains of an ancient statue, its edges smoothed by the hands of those who handled it in trust. Some say the stone's whispers guide their owner toward fulfilling their deepest desires, while others claim that those who hear it are merely cursed fools, enslaved by the whispers."

-Object: Gauntlets of strength, increase the strength of whoever wears them. Fool's sword.

-Ability: The Whisperer—it is said only the desperate can hear it and ask it to whisper what you desire.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith: 💀💀💀
-Will: 💀💀
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>>10907
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>>10908
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THE YOMIURI SHIMBUN

Special Emergency Edition

Tokyo, Japan — June 13, xxxx

Chief War Correspondent: Ryu Taneguchi

---

TERRIBLE ATTACK IN HIROSHIMA: F.L.E.I.J.A. BOMB DETONATED, LEAVING THOUSANDS DEAD

HIROSHIMA — The soil of our beloved nation has once again become the epicenter of absolute horror. What is now classified as the worst military catastrophe of the 23rd century on Japanese soil, a titanic confrontation between foreign armies, Japanese Self-Defense Forces, and allied factions in the vicinity of Hiroshima culminated yesterday with unprecedented devastation. The tragedy reached its turning point with the detonation of an F.L.E.I.J.A. warhead (*Field Limitary and Effective Implosion Investigation of Jove's Absolute). The government has directly pointed to the terrorist strategist and leader XXXXXXXXXXXXXX as the intellectual author and primary culprit of this apocalyptic atrocity. Military intelligence reports confirm that he operated in close collaboration with the subversive Brigade XXXXX. Both factions have been officially declared "Public Enemy Number One of Japan and of the entire Japanese people," with an immediate order issued for their search, capture, and military neutralization.

The battle, which began in the peripheral zones of the prefecture, escalated rapidly when foreign mechs and heavy artillery violated our national sovereignty, but no one could predict the use of tactical mass-destruction weaponry. The explosion of the F.L.E.I.J.A. bomb resembled nothing ever seen before; instead of conventional fire expansion, the device generated a sphere of absolute vacuum that sucked up and disintegrated all traces of matter within a radius of several kilometers. Preliminary estimates from the Ministry of Health place the death toll at over 35,000 people in the first seconds of the detonation, while seriously injured citizens suffering from third-degree thermal radiation burns and severe mutilations already exceed 80,000. One-third of Hiroshima's peripheral urban infrastructure has been reduced to a perfect, smooth, silent crater, with communication systems, electricity, and potable water supply for the entire region completely collapsed. Furthermore, scientists warn of a concerning electromagnetic disturbance and lethal levels of residual ionizing particle radiation in the "zero zone," while black acidic rain has already begun falling on neighboring prefectures.
The response from the Prime Minister and the defense cabinet has been immediate and draconian, declaring a state of national self-isolation, a modern Sakoku, to shield itself against foreign powers seeking to trample on the sovereignty and will of the Japanese people. As a first radical measure of this new isolationist regime, the Japanese government has expelled all gaijins and hafus from its major cities. Those few who managed to stay under strict emergency visas have been formally barred from accessing stable employment, using public transport, and entering commercial and government establishments, generating widespread hatred, suspicion, and rejection by the local population demanding the total purge of any external influence.

The only notable exception to this severe policy of national segregation is Osaka Prefecture. Due to strong commercial investments and the entrenched influence of foreign corporations in its local government administration, its political leaders have unanimously refused to comply with the xenophobic directives issued from Tokyo. Currently, Osaka remains the sole bastion of the archipelago that keeps its borders open, accepting and sheltering the gaijins and hafus fleeing harassment in the rest of the country.

---

(20-year-old newspaper)
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>>10907
Damn, I copied it wrong, I'll fix it...
<Murk Sage
-Object: Staff of Discipline

-Skill: Lunar Assassination

<Stone Scholar
-Object: Stone Staff

-Skill: Stone Bone
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10912 es
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>>10902
>I hope you've seen my good side... huff puff
....You look mature for your age....-Although she had learned that if there was nothing good to say about someone it was better not to say anything, Rena wanted to at least make an effort to give a good impression to everyone, so she highlighted something she thought, definitely for a young man almost her age, the fat guy looked like a 30-year-old gentleman or older, he even seemed a bit older than the fat man, although if you look closely you can notice that he is a morbidly obese teenager.-
>He stays lying on the floor, panting from overexertion...?Does anyone help me get up?
-Rena was busy, too deep in her thoughts to notice the fat guy who needs help.-

>https://youtu.be/xE0pz2twr54
kekito
>>10903
>"People in this school can sometimes be very cruel, but don't pay them any mind, all of us girls are beautiful."
-Her serious gaze softens and a genuine smile seems to appear for the first time before everyone's eyes.-
Yes... thanks -Rena didn't quite understand it, but she enjoyed displays of affection and pampering, words praising her could reach her heart, although she doesn't understand what she is really feeling.-
>"Little one, little one, don't you know? Everyone exists, they are just different disciplines to channel the universe's energies, I love RPGs and Runes, those are the ones I use the most, but the one you mention is too strong and I'm training to get it."
>"Do you know anything about magic?"
-Rena's expression becomes serious again, she adjusts her glasses, she is about to give her point of view on magic, this is not a game.-

As I said, magic depends on systems, in anime there are many lights, and even in shonen neketsus with systems like KI or Chakra they could be considered magic systems if we look at it from a roleplay perspective, of course, Dragon Ball has users with magic and Ki is spiritual energy, but then why would there be 2 systems? You yourself said, magic borrows energy from the universe, but that explanation is somewhat archaic, real magic breaks the laws of the universe and bends them to its will...
Depends a lot on the character you want to have; you can start by learning runes and spells, but slow magic with transmutation circles that you have to draw seems obsolete to me. Besides, aren't there wands and staves for that? Condensing magic into objects and skipping steps—I personally prefer wands over staves for convenience, though I admit staves are cooler and make the wielder look more experienced. Still, they fall short compared to objectless magic, where you only need your hands and gestures. While it's a good option, it's not the kind of magic I'm looking for. Observe:
-Rena pulls out her phone and plays a video she had downloaded beforehand; she planned to give this explanation if the president asked which character she wanted to use. She was ready for this talk.-
https://youtu.be/T7IX97KPtqk?si=hfs0_ucPwfbhsPU1This scene is what sparked my interest in magic since I was a kid: cartoon magic, the kind most present in cartoons and in characters like Majin Buu—the type of magic where you can do everything, and by "everything" I mean EVERYTHING. Of course, that's absurdly powerful and broken, and it fits better with beings who are born with high magical power and don't need to learn magic from scratch, just how to control it... Well, technically it's the same thing, but no, you get what I mean, right?
-For a moment she seemed to get nervous and stutter; when she talked a lot and excitedly about something she really loved, she could stumble.-
A...where did I leave off...ah yes! Look, The Fairly OddParents fulfill 90% of the magic requirements I'm looking for: absurdly powerful, they can do anything—well, almost anything. But that's their problem: the rules. And of course, every magic system has rules. So, if I were playing an RPG, I'd have to stick to a system and create a rule to nerf myself, because being all-powerful in a game makes no sense... Therefore, my character "The All-Witch" can cast one spell per turn: anything—summoning, reviving, changing the laws of the world, whatever—and it will be an undeniable fact, but at a mana cost. If I roll badly, the spell might only work 1% effectively, like...reviving just a toe instead of an entire body...I hope the president can help me polish this.
- She had blushed a little; it wasn't like her to talk much about her tastes, and feeling like a newbie in this roleplay was something that could embarrass her a bit -

...That... -she said in a low voice- is my opinion on magic... -after keeping silent she tried to eat an Oreo cookie but dropped it on the floor- damn it...

>>10904
-As if the universe itself heard Rena, the president set aside her perversions with others and spoke to them, showing them the Zocchiedro del Destino , a 100-sided die, handing out more dice to everyone-
Golden....-Rena could only think of one thing now-
https://youtu.be/tNeuSMnzYUg?si=dQxZeoNnBsaXxHDuGolden.... -She imagined herself as the most powerful witch of all, floating in space, wearing a golden suit and doing and undoing everything with a simple Poff without rules, just pure power to sweep verses-

>Katsumi: What?! A baseball bat?! R-Rena-chan... please tell me you're not going to use it to hurt anyone... I can get you one from the baseball club's storage, we can even go steal it together if you want! But you have to promise me you'll only use it for playing and never to attack a person, a little animal... not even the little plants!
....I promise not to use it to ATTACK anyone, and hurting animals and plants is bad
-Rena replied calmly, emphasizing "attack", because of course, she doesn't seek violence, but if violence seeks her, she will defend herself, and defending oneself isn't attacking, basic martial arts rules applied to self-defense with a sports instrument, said so that it wouldn't even be considered a white weapon-
Let's go then, so I bring two or three, if you notice they're missing, we leave a note saying those were those bad girls...and if you can give me their names from now on

>Kuma: Wow, I didn't think you were such a lusty pervert... But for your information, you should know that my breasts are extremely heavy, ultrasensitive, and always hot from accumulated fat... If you squeeze them, they drip aromatic sweat.
-Rena looked at her while adjusting her glasses-
I don't consider myself a perverted or lustful person. Like any teenager, I've masturbated and felt curious, but I have no interest in having sex or masturbating every day. I know other teenagers do it more often, especially boys, but I can go an entire month doing it only five times... -A sudden look of confusion appeared after analyzing what Kuma had said- ...aromatic sweat?

> Saying this, the overflowing water tank began shaking its bulging chest from side to side, making it tremble grotesquely and erotically just millimeters from Rena's face, desperate to be sexualized and take first place. Suddenly, she started tickling her—the attack rolled on the dice after choosing her—and taking advantage of them talking about her tits, she rubbed her fat bags all over the small autistic girl's body, dropping much of her weight on her. And Kuma is heavy, sweaty, and curiously smells like a mix of fast food and mint.

-The gentle swaying of Kuma's tits caught Rena's attention, not because of the perverted/lustful/obscene nature of the situation, but because of the pendulum movement itself. It was like watching a ball bounce, a fidget spinner spin, a video where they inflate a Lebron James ( https://youtube.com/shorts/td1MUp12D3M?si=ue_A1JxX80m6Blfj ), pure hypnosis for an autistic brain... and then-
Ah-....waaaaa!!!!kjkjajjajaaaa, NOOO STOP!!!
-You can hit her and she won't care; she'll plan revenge. But tickle her and she's yours. Rena's weakness, of all humans, is tickles. One of the few things that could make her blush and become sensitive, to the point of tearing up-
S-stop pleasee!!!!
-Rena was silenced by Kuma's pair of sweaty tits. The fat girl pounced on her, touching her and immobilizing her with her weight. Rena dropped her bag of Oreos, which fell to the floor. She couldn't breathe; muffled laughter echoed from within Kuma's breasts. Once Kuma stopped, Rena was trembling, red as a tomato from lack of air. Her ribs hurt again, but this time from her intense laughter. Now she shared the fat girl's scent, with teary eyes holding back tears. Rena spoke stuttering:

Sniff P-p-please... n-no more t-t-tickles sniff -she was really about to break down crying-

(Then I read the character sheets. I've already replied too much in this post, so I'm leaving this here OP
https://files.catbox.moe/l59242.mp4 )
Bonita Hambergite-d3bed7 No.10913 es
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>>10906
I'll leave the sheet, then I'll answer everything:

<Name
The Penitent Pilgrim
<God you worship.
Gurvek
<History
God knows what lies beneath the rag. His body is covered by the white urticaria, a disease that has turned his skin into a mass of sores and pale bumps. Years ago he stopped showing his face. A simple bag of rags covers his head, leaving only a small hole through which he observes the world.

His prayers are barely whispers, and his pilgrimages have no known destination. It is unknown whether he walks in search of a cure, or if the disease is precisely the punishment imposed upon him, and the penitent continues walking because he has not yet fulfilled his sentence.

He does not eat in front of others. He does not sleep in the houses of the villages. He does not allow anyone to touch his rags. Under them, his body trembles constantly, but he never stops. The disease should have killed him a long time ago. His lungs are too damaged to keep him alive. Yet he continues walking, since his will refuses to abandon him. His devotion is the only thing preventing the disease from consuming what little remains of him.
<Cursed Object
Spike Mace: An old and heavy mace covered in rusted spikes. It is said the spikes were bathed in his own blood. When it strikes an enemy, a small amount of his disease seems to pass into the wounds, causing intense itching and pain, leaving wounds that take time to close, as if the flesh refuses to heal.
<Abilities (Only 1)
Unbreakable Will: As long as he remains conscious, his body refuses to fall. He can continue fighting despite wounds that would leave any other man unable to move. However, every time he forces his body in this way, the disease worsens and recovery becomes more painful.
Strength
2
>Intelligence
1
>Faith
2
>Will
6
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>>10906
Amazement at the unknown
-After a moment of embarrassment that almost made Rena cry, everything takes a 180° turn when President Kinoko becomes serious, Rena could only watch her with fascination while hearing the narration of said lore, although she wasn't the biggest fan of dark fantasy, she didn't dislike it either, really the look of fascination and interest in the young autistic girl couldn't be hidden, and once Kinoko finished speaking everything fell silent, Rena had to hold back the urge to applaud, she didn't do it because she thought it would ruin the moment, but she could say later how admirable that description of the game Vermis was, could the president know it by heart? impromptu? or had she practiced for hours to give such a spectacular welcome speech to inexperienced novices like them?-

>Kinoko: The table is set, my dear corpses. You have exactly 15 minutes from now to choose a pre-made character sheet or create your own character on the blank sheet. I warn you that you can choose a sheet and that the appearance of said one can be another, you can give your own appearance to the adventurer you choose, that is if you can modify it, the rest cannot. Think well, because once you cross the threshold of Vermis, death will be the least of your problems. ¡To work!
....
>>10907
>>10908
...
-Rena quickly looked through the character sheets, thought about her OC, but it required work, maybe... adapting it in appearance to one of these characters would be the appropriate thing, as a version of this rotten and dead universe, definitely, that was the most logical option for a novice, she needed to learn the basics of roleplay before anything else-
Well -she said in a low voice to start reading, very few caught her attention-
<Lost Old Glory
It's like the hero theory of the time that became a Stalfo in Twilight Princess!!! -Rena seemed to have her chosen one, until she read that he carried the severed tongue of a witch, which discouraged her-
uh....
-she continued reading the sheets, none seemed to please her, she was already thinking about putting her OC, until she read one-

<Stone Scholar
-An old scholar and mage, although ugly and weak, but intelligent and with a Faith just as powerful, I suppose in a rotten world, this would be the mage, Rena quickly sketched and raised her hand to speak with the president-

Excuse me President, I have some questions...
The first, the sheet says it can't smell or see, but you mentioned that it can't smell, so my character won't be blind in this game?

Second, it also doesn't make an exact reference to which god worships, but I suppose by his story, that said god is DORVUS, god of truth, who I would choose, but I might be wrong and the god of the Stone Scholar is MARKO, if that were the case I would follow the character rules

Third and last question, if we are corpses that resurrect, should I invent a story for him or will I just appear in some dungeon? I would also like to know the list of powers and spells that I possess, because the ability only says Stone Bone, do I make my bones stone or my enemies'? that would count as paralysis, right?

-Rena shows the quick sketch she made-
So....if I can give him a story? and a name? -she said excitedly-
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>>10914
>>10912
>Kinoko adjusted her glasses with her index finger tip to carefully examine the character sheet Rena was handing her. Her eyes sparkled as she focused on the hand-drawn illustration.

Kinoko: Wow, what a beautiful drawing! Your witch looks really nice, I love the touch of the hat and the robe, it has an excellent design.

>The president cleared her throat slightly before addressing the girl's concerns.

Kinoko: Regarding what you asked... you must have heard wrong. I clearly said that the Stone Scholar is incapable of smelling and seeing. And if I didn't say it, the sheet doesn't lie! So no, your witch won't detect smells or light, although she can navigate through sound or environmental vibrations. Now, regarding Vermis lore, I won't give you spoilers; my duty as GM is to give the right information to keep the interest. But I can confirm you that MARKO has no relation with the wizards, I applaud your deduction! DORVUS is, indeed, the god of wizards and magicians.

>She continued explaining without needing to consult the manual, showing she knew the rules by heart.

Kinoko: Remember that their characters are "revived". They can have a background prior to becoming what they are now: walking corpses. But watch out, they are not zombies! They are like undead, more or less. The item "Stone Bone" serves only for him, your wizard or witch buries it on his back: you lose 50 life points in exchange for +5 in Faith. The magic of the Stone Scholar is called "mud sorcery", which allows manipulating stone and earth. It has three spells: "Pea Shot", to throw rocks at the enemy; "Bone石化", which turns the opponent's bones into stone; and "Stone Reading", useful to extract knowledge from the rocks. You need to roll a 25 or more on a d50 to activate each spell, and every 2 points of Faith gives +1 to the roll. The damage depends on a d20. By the way, Stone Scholar is just the class title, so you can give it any name you want and write a backstory without deleting the base data. Oh! You can learn new spells but depending on the faith they require, you'll have to forget some you already have.

>While Rena analyzed the information to modify her sheet, Kuma slowly approached her with a shy smile.

Kuma: I-I'm sorry for almost making you cry with the tickle attack before... I didn't think you'd react that way. Since you threw your cookies because of my fault, I brought you these Emperor Lemon. I didn't have Oreo, but I always carry food in case I get hungry. By the way...

>Kuma looked away and scratched his cheek timidly, revealing a subtle blush.

Kuma: ...Did you like my "aromatic smell" a while ago?

>Before Rena could respond, Katsumi suddenly appeared, causing Kuma to jump in surprise and step back discreetly, visibly agitated, blushing and with accelerated breathing.

Katsumi: Hey, Rena-chan, who should I choose? I don't know if I should create an OC from scratch or just wait to take one of the free characters... Huh? What were you talking about with Hoshino-san? Ah, I forgot to tell you... Okay, I'm going to give you a bat but only ONE, okay? And we're not going to blame anyone! Okay?

What a beautiful and wonderful video of the manifesto roller you made! Thank you for doing what Takahara only promised me! I'll leave my Kinokolike to the video, your lore and edited images
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>>10910

>23rd century
Does the roleplay involve time travel now too? Because we're definitely not in the future, unless...

>>10893

With nothing more to add, the fat man leans back in his seat with a satisfied smile. Maybe Bonita-chan didn't agree to his original plan, but a win is a win.

>>10895

>With an attentive expression and a hand on his chin, he nods repeatedly at Rena's words—just as she had said, they had lost track of the conversation's point, but that wasn't important to the fat man. This kind of honest, unfiltered chat can also be suitable for closing distances between everyone. Which becomes evident the moment Kuma arrives to hug Rena—an event the fat man burned into his retinas.

<As for penises, I'll leave that to you.

Speaking of penises, that's something harder to determine... You've probably heard in sex ed classes how they grow when aroused, but there are several details often omitted. For example, types of penises. Those that appear fleshy at all times show very little difference when erect. On the other hand, the so-called "blood-type" penises can even triple in size once action begins. Besides that, there are other factors to consider, like room temperature, stress, the posture the penis takes when it rises, or whether it has phimosis, etc. Because of all this and more, it's hard to estimate the size of those present here unless you let me see them. Although... if I rely purely on instinct, I'd say GP has plenty to hide.

>Keeping up with the flow of conversation, the fat man starts eyeing everyone's package. At the same time, he delivers a very passionate and educational speech about how penises can vary depending on the circumstances. Despite his words, the fat man still ended up making an assumption based mainly on the confidence each person showed in their body, with GP being the winner in that regard.
<You're repeating what you said?

What? Oh, right! Listen, when it comes to breasts, size isn't the only thing to consider. Softness, firmness, shape, warmth, and other factors are key points in determining which is better. Even a flat chest can surpass a very voluptuous one if it exceeds in another category!
Let's take Katsumi and Kuma as examples to illustrate this. Katsumi is an athletic girl with quite developed muscles; this fact greatly affects the softness of her breasts, and similarly, their shape tends to be more "static" when squeezed. Kuma, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. Being breasts with a higher fat percentage, their softness is much greater, but their firmness drops significantly. However, these exceed in terms of warmth compared to muscular ones. Now, after saying this, the question arises: which is better? Well, that's an answer that will vary based on your tastes. That's why I urge you again to experience the sensation of all kinds of breasts. Who knows, maybe once you do, you'll understand the pleasure that resides solely in a flat chest.

>For a second, the fat guy had also forgotten they were talking. However, he quickly regained his memory and began speaking with even more passion than before. Looking at Katsumi with one eye and Kuma with the other, he made a comparison so intense you could almost see imaginary glasses on his face, while raising his hand in a ☝️ pose. No, wait, he was actually doing that last part.
>With the analysis finished, the fat guy gave Rena a gentle push to go bury her face in each breast in this room. Whether she did or not, he would stay staring at Hotaru's flat chest with a face that made it clear who was the winner in this imaginary ranking.

>>10901

<I'll return to this club in an anti-radiation suit, wrapped in spikes
"A radiation suit? Yeah, yeah, that's not a bad idea at all. With so many precautions, your scent will stick to your body even more and make your natural fragrance even more worth smelling.

>Unable to understand Seika's threats, the fat guy reacts in the opposite way one would expect. Believing that all of Seika's care was actually a way to preserve her scent better for the next time he sniffs her.

>>10903

<Do you have a dog's sense of smell? Are you a demi-human?

Many enjoy comparing me to a pig, and as far as my sense of smell goes, they're not wrong.

>Neither regarding weight, nor regarding smell, nor regarding...
>Putting comparisons aside, he gives his nose a few light taps while boasting about his good sense of smell.

<Then we'll go get hydrogen peroxide.

I don't know if the nurse is willing to give it to them... Try going with a boy so he listens to you, or otherwise he might throw the bottle at your head.

>The nurse and women are not things one usually sees in the same room. Especially if that room is the infirmary, a place that has been almost completely purged of female cells. Knowing well the kind of tastes the nurse has and the disparate treatment he offers each gender, the fat guy gives them one last piece of advice before returning to his seat.

>>10904

<H-H-Atchoo!

Hisao... Thanks for the meal.

>In the middle of an autistic conflict, the president hands out golden dice to everyone. Accepting his without saying anything about it, the fat guy goes to Hisao for this round's challenge. There he is greeted by a wave of snot and germs that end up covering his entire face. Far from getting angry, the fat guy just smiles and pats Hisao on the head. Immediately after, he walks away and takes a box of tissues out of his bag.
>Take one, rub it all over his face several times, and when there's no trace of snot left, he eats it. The small ball of paper filled with foreign fluids and germs enters his mouth as if it were just any snack. Not satisfied with that, Jack unnecessarily suggestively licks his fingers while looking at Hisao and thanks him for the meal.

>>10906

<The known gods of Vermis are superior beings

You just said they were assassinated... Are we worshipping air?

>Autism and degeneracy aside, it was time to roleplay. Unfortunately for Jack, it didn't seem like this session would include ERP, at least not yet... While flipping through the sheets and listening to Ichinose, he noticed a contradiction that caught his attention. The introduction explicitly states that the gods were cursed and abandoned. Yet, despite that, he was asked to choose a deity as if they were still alive. Confused, the fat man raised an eyebrow and asked what that was about.
>Whatever answer he received, the professor of all things would ultimately opt not to have a God. Ending up with a sheet that looks more or less like this.

<Waste of Life
<Name
Derf
<Deity you worship
No
<History
Little is known about Derf's life, as no town he passes through can withstand his presence for too long. However, there is something anyone who sees him can recognize instantly, and that is... his plague. It's not just his rotting body eaten away by disease, but every fiber of his being. His mana is stagnant, his mind lost, and his soul cursed. Even the gods cannot meet Derf's gaze, nor does he seek to obtain theirs. Convinced that no one is worthy of his eyes, Derf always walks with his head down until the moment he finds something worthy of his attention, and when he does... He wipes everything in his path to get it. Nevertheless, he never finds satisfaction. He has forgotten why, but something tells him that if he found the person from his collar, maybe he could achieve it.
-Item: Beloved Collar
-Skill: Bone Dagger
-Strength: 💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀💀
-Faith:
-Willpower: 💀💀💀💀
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>>10916
>Hisao froze completely when he saw how Jack, without the slightest bit of shame, ran his thick tongue over his own face to pick up the thick mucus and took it directly to his mouth. The small boy let out a choked "Ugh... ghhk!" while his eyes opened in absolute terror. A violent expression of nausea twisted his pale face; he covered his mouth with both hands while a guttural sound of vomiting escaped his throat. He was on the verge of throwing up his breakfast right there, which would basically be a bag of cheetos and an orange juice, trembling with pure revulsion at such a grotesque spectacle. He took several unsteady steps back, unable to process the level of degeneracy of the fat teacher.

>Leaving behind that horrible episode, the group settled around the main table to dive into character creation. Between the crunching of pages and the rolling of dice, Jack was reviewing the map's setting until he launched a doubt into the air that the president answered bluntly.

Kinoko: Alright, alright... Technically, when you adore any invisible god, you're adoring the air, but no! Here it's completely different! Their divine corpses still bring fortune or curse to both believers and blasphemers. Death does not strip their divinity from their rotting or already bone bodies! There are sects that cling with nails and teeth to their old beliefs... or you can be a skeptic who, just like you are now, doubts the existence of these slaughtered and cursed gods.

>Without hesitation, Kinoko gave Jack a small and dry hit on the head with the heavy rulebook to get his ideas in order.

Kinoko: Activate your neurons, Crazy Underwear-chan!

>Minutes later, just when the teacher was finishing filling out his character sheet, he felt a dense and extremely humid breath brushing against his neck. It was Gore Predator, who was breathing noisily through his mouth while leaning over his shoulder to read the sheet.

Gore Predator: Mmgh... Good character sheet, professor. It's something very worthy of your person, you made an excellent choice... By the way, if no one else chooses him, I'm going to use Ratman. I would love... I want to brutally rape all my enemies after killing them in battle and infect them with terrible sexually transmitted diseases even after they're dead. Moreover, if your character ends up dying during the campaign, teacher, I'm sure I'll rape you too. I fantasize about giving you such a hard time that it causes a
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>>10915
>Kinoko: Wow, what a beautiful drawing! Your little witch looks really cute; I love the hat and robe touch, it has an excellent design.
Thanks -she says while slightly bowing her head in respect while smiling-

>Kinoko: About what you asked... you must have heard wrong. I clearly said that the Stone Scholar is incapable of smelling and seeing. And if I didn't say it, the sheet doesn't lie!
-Definitely she didn't mention anything about blindness, Rena thought, but decided to stay silent and keep listening-

>So no, your little witch won't catch smells or light, though she can navigate through sound or environmental vibrations. Now, regarding Vermis lore, I won't give spoilers; my duty as GM is to provide just enough information to keep interest. But I can confirm that MARKO has no relation to the sorcerers, and I applaud your deduction! DORVUS is indeed the god of sorcerers and mages.
Understandable -She notes on her character sheet the worship of DORVUS the god of truth and therefore of infinite knowledge of everything-

>Kinoko: Remember that their characters are "revived". They can have a background prior to becoming what they are now: walking corpses. But watch out, they aren't zombies! They're like undead, more or less. The item "Stone Bone" works only for him; your sorcerer or sorceress buries it in their back: you lose 50 HP in exchange for +5 Faith. The Stone Scholar's magic is called "mud sorcery", which allows manipulating stone and earth. It has three spells: "Pebble Projectile", to throw rocks at the enemy; "Bone Petrification", which turns the rival's bones to stone; and "Stone Reading", useful for extracting knowledge from rocks. You need to roll 25 or higher on a d50 to activate each spell, and every 2 points of Faith give you +1 to the roll. Damage depends on a d20. By the way, Stone Scholar is just the class title, so you can give it any name you want and write a backstory without erasing the base data! Oh! You can learn new spells but depending on the Faith needed, you'll have to forget one you already have.
oooh, I understand, I understand, thank you very much -Rena started writing everything down quickly so she wouldn't forget even a single detail, almost wrote "pebble pijurro" because she was writing so hurriedly-
>Kuma: I-I'm really sorry for almost making you cry with the tickle attack earlier... I didn't think you'd react like that. Since you threw your cookies because of me, I brought you these Emperor Lemon ones. I didn't have Oreos, but I always carry snacks in case I get hungry. By the way...
-Rena stopped writing for a second, turned to look at the chubby girl who had approached to apologize and offer Emperor Lemon cookies. Even though the cookies were delicious, the advertising was false; it didn't summon a Stand army to throw people into the river. Remember how you told your father that the first time you ate them? He just laughed and called you an idiot. Anyway, you nod at Kuma and take the cookies-

Apologies accepted. I don't like tickles, but I do like cookies -you say, hoping not to have to explain the reason behind this, although they'll surely ask-

>Kuma: ...Did you like my "aromatic scent" from earlier?
.....-Rena fell silent, opened the package, put a cookie in her mouth to eat it. After chewing and swallowing, she answered the question with another question-
Isn't it redundant to say "aromatic scent"? Since aroma is the perception of smell itself?... Maybe I'm wrong, wait -after a quick search on the internet, Rena reads aloud-

An aroma is an olfactory perception of volatile particles characterized by being very pleasant. In perfumery and gastronomy, it is distinguished from a general "smell" by its exquisite, fragrant, and pleasurable quality.

Well, then I was wrong and there is a difference after all; the emphasis is on how rich or exquisite said aroma is....-Rena approaches Kuma to give him a good sniff, and just as he's about to respond...-

>Before Rena could answer, Katsumi suddenly appeared, causing Kuma to jump in surprise and awkwardly back away. She looked visibly flustered, blushing, and breathing heavily.

-Rena turns to look at her while raising a hand in a greeting without saying anything and offers her a cookie-

>Katsumi: Hey, Rena-chan, who should I choose? I don't know whether to create an OC from scratch or just wait to pick one of the remaining free characters... Huh? What were you talking about with Hoshino-san? Oh, I forgot to tell you... Okay, I'm going to give you a bat, but only ONE, okay? And we won't blame anyone! O-ok?
-Rena finishes chewing and swallowing another cookie while looking at both of them-
...Who? You mean the fat one? -points at Kuma- She came to apologize for the tickles, and in a spirit of peace she gave me this offering, and I'm sharing one with you.
-saying while still offering her one-
About the bat, thanks.
-makes a slight bowing gesture-
Let's go after class if it's open, or you tell me what time so I can come early tomorrow and bring it here secretly, and finally
-Rena quickly grabs the Lost Old Glory chip so no one else takes it-
Here, this is for you, keep it, and you can pretend your bat is a sword. Whether you want to roleplay as a male or female character doesn't depend on me, but depending on what you say, I can give you ideas. Anyway -points at Kinoko- the president is the expert in this... well, what do you think?

-Rena shows her character sheet while narrating her story-

Samanta Salem
Young scholarly witch, kidnapped as a child at age 4 by a coven of witches, saved from death by a witch who pitied her, appealing to the longing of never being able to be a mother.
Raised and trained in basic magic until age 9, when a group of 3 knights and a wizard killed everyone, leaving the girl alive because once again someone saw potential in her. The wizard then continued her training, guiding her in the teachings of DORVUS doctrines, piercing her temples with 2 spikes that made her wear a special mineral mask, permanently blinding her and also burning out her olfactory receptors.
Dying at age 12 due to causes she doesn't remember, with a new opportunity in this dead world, she will not hesitate to keep moving forward with the pain in her body guiding her toward the truth.

Not having sight or smell, her other senses sharpened, allowing her to see thanks to the rocks, like a sonar radar, just by feeling the rock under her feet, but also helped by the echo generated by tapping the ground with her own staff, which only amplifies those vibrations more.

Something like Daredevil so you understand, if you know Daredevil, right?
-saying before making the final touches to her sheet, and without turning around she said something else-
Decide between smelling like burgers and fries or mint, it's not a good combination, not like chocolate with mint....but you don't smell bad, I give you a 6 personal score on my new scent scale I just invented.
Well, now we just need to find out one more thing... who's lending me a 50-sided and a 20-sided die? The one they gave us has 100 sides.

>>10916
>If we're talking about penises, that's already much harder to determine...
-Did the fat man start talking about penises??? Indeed, he started talking about penises!!!, he was describing those damn things-
>It's hard to estimate the size of what everyone here possesses unless you let me see it. Although... if I rely purely on instinct, I'd say GP has plenty to hide.
-After giving an obvious sex ed lecture on the male reproductive organ, the fat man gave his opinion on the others, implying that Marilyn Manson might be the most well-endowed-
...
-Rena glanced at him sideways; she didn't have much to add other than saying his vision might be 80% accurate, but the fat man spoke first-

>What? Oh, right! Listen, when it comes to breasts, size isn't the only thing to consider. Softness, firmness, shape, warmth, and other factors are key points when determining which is better. Even a flat chest can surpass a very voluptuous one if it exceeds in another category!
Let's take Katsumi and Kuma as examples to illustrate this. Katsumi is an athletic girl with quite developed muscles; this fact greatly affects the softness of her breasts, and similarly, their shape tends to be more "static" when squeezed. Kuma, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. Since her breasts have a higher percentage of fat, their softness is greater, but their firmness drops significantly. However, these exceed in terms of warmth compared to muscular ones. Now, after saying this, the question arises: which is better? Well, that's a response that will vary based on your tastes. That's why I urge you again to experience the sensation of all kinds of breasts. Who knows, maybe once you do, you'll understand the pleasure that resides solely in a flat chest.
.....I'll keep that in mind -from what happened earlier, I could confirm what was said about Kuma; her soft, sweaty breasts were mostly fat; a more direct approach with Katsumi would be needed for a winning verdict, maybe when they're alone I'll ask to check how soft they are-
Yeah... I'll have to ask if she lets me touch them later -he said aloud without realizing it-
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>Name and/or nickname:
Kumiko LARPlace

>Exact age:
Good try, Mr. FBI. There's no way you could know I was born 16 years, one week, one day, and ten hours ago in Guadalajara, CDMX.

>Education level:
First year. The administrators left me stuck there indefinitely for being way too special.

>Gender or Sex:
A personalized egregore crafted by a non-ironic autistic on a roleplay board.

>Birthday:
9/11/2001. It's a super funny joke about the Twin Towers—better be laughing on the other side of that keyboard.

>Nationality:
Does a rrrussian accent work or is that trope burned out?

My parents are foreigners from Southeast Mexican Asian, I was born inside a textile factory in Tokyo.

>Roleplaying experience:
Veteran among veterans, the cream of the cream—none of my campaigns know the word loldeath.

>Favorite setting:
Mecha, does ERP count?

>Preferred dice type:
1d100 = 99 is the ABC for cowards, one 1d20 = 16 is enough.

>Character style:
The reliable healer who pulls you out of trouble and watches your back.

>Current relationship status:
D-Does long-distance count? We dedicate poems to each other and in two weeks we'll hit six months together.

>Fetish or vice:
Vanilla, yuri, yaoi, futanari, tentacles, bondage, incest, milf, lolicon, shotacon, gender bender, mind control, cheating, netorare, netori, netorase, ahegao, blowjob, handjob, paizuri, footjob, anal, double penetration, harem, reverse harem, demon, elf, monster girl, catgirl, maid, schoolgirl, office lady, nurse, teacher, swimsuit, lingerie, stockings, glasses, big breasts, small breasts, big ass, muscle, tall girl, short girl, tomboy, gyaru, vampire, zombie, ghost, robot/android, alien, insect, snake, horse, dog, other bestiality, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, group sex, orgy, gangbang, reverse gangbang, threesome, foursome, blackmail, hypnosis, app, drugs, alcohol, drunk, sleep sex, time stop, invisible, body swap, possession, age regression, age progression, mind break, corruption, slave, master, pet play, bdsm, sadism, masochism, submissive, dominant, pregnancy, impregnation, lactation, egg laying, birth, vore, unbirthing, scat, watersports, guro, amputee, blood, snuff, necrophilia, cannibalism, mecha, musume, kemonomimi, oni, kitsune, tanuki, angel, devil, succubus, incubus, crossdressing, trap, reverse trap, omorashi, fart, feet, armpit, belly button, ear, nose, eye, hair, school uniform, sports, swimming, gym, bath, hot spring, beach, school trip, date, confession, first time, virgin, experienced, prostitute, soapland, hostess, massage, cosplay, idol, magical girl, superhero, isekai, game world, trapped, survival, horror, comedy, parody, fanbox, cg, manga, doujin, original, full color

>Favorite dinosaur:
Pterodactyl—can you believe those weird things could fly?

>Ideal historical period:
Back to 9/11, to avoid witness my birth.

>Food for roleplaying:
Chicken nuggets

>Greatest absurd fear:
Being left alone with my thoughts, torturing myself over not achieving the same success as others my age.

Ronaldo was already a billionaire by my age, bro.

>Your favorite Pokémon:
Huh? Which one's my favorite Yu-Gi-Oh card? Pot of Greed > any other card and deck.

>Your ultimate anime opening:
https://youtu.be/au4QOV4R6rE?si=11Ua0quIIcivZVIb>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
Argentina didn't win the fourth because of Messi.

Tapia has nothing to do with it, and even less Dominguez—they're literally two clowns who don't matter at all, absolute nobodies. There's something much bigger behind this that nobody wants to talk about, either due to politics or money, as many suspect.

After the England match, it was leaked that Messi was doping really, REALLY bad. It's not normal for a player to compete in so many full matches and extra times—it's just not realistic, guys. We've never heard of anything like this before. Not at the level Messi did it, pulling off magic plays and dominating the world's best players like Kane and that other dude in that play where, instead of taking him down with a tactical foul, they had to bring him down with three guys.

Infantino and all the FIFA bigwigs obviously knew, and probably most players from other squads did too—God knows realistically how long Messi's been doping... but nobody says anything because Messi is the nicest guy in the world and doesn't hurt anyone, and it's good for the sport to have a "clean" face representing it. And if there's anyone who backs Messi more than Argentines, it's Infantino. But with that Malvinas flag incident and Infantino's FIFA re-election, some Europeans got really upset and went after Infantino's biggest weakness: Messi, his legacy, and how good Messi has been for football overall as the sport's poster boy. Nowadays they want to promote it in the U.S. for the kids, because it's a sport that doesn't wreck your body with constant injuries, and Messi is a good example—but all that goes out the window if it comes out that Messi played who-knows-how-many years doped, maybe even won Qatar 2022 doped.

The deal was: "Expose Messi's doping, make him look ridiculous in his final match that everyone's watching, or make Argentina lose the game."

And obviously, Infantino and Tapia communicated this to the squad. And the squad could care less about Infantino—I think Infantino himself could care less about Infantino; the guy's already set for life, friends with the most popular YouTubers, with the best players in the world... he could not give less of a fuck if Reddit hates him.

What matters to him and the squad is not ruining Messi's legacy and letting him end up like Maradona with that photo. Can you imagine some old African-American woman laughing her ass off while dragging Messi off like he'd gassed someone mid-game? No way. So they protected him, in exchange for throwing the match—which would've been tough anyway. But it was very noticeable that something was off. It's not normal for these players to not shoot at the goal, or for Enzo Fernández and especially Paredes to commit fouls with such low IQ. Say what you want, but Paredes is extremely intelligent—whenever he causes drama, he gets away with it smoothly while others are left confused. But in this match, Paredes was full of rage about something else and didn't care about winning because the decision to lose had already been made in the locker room—for Messi's sake.

The talk about banning Argentina from competitions for 10 years, Infantino wanting to win re-election—none of that matters. Even if they were factors, the real trade was: don't ruin Messi's image, in exchange for losing the match, so Europeans wouldn't look stupid if they ended up losing.

>Rate your current mental health from 1 to 10:
Is 7÷0 valid?
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>>10918
>Katsumi's abrupt intervention shattered the intimate atmosphere Kuma was trying to cultivate with Rena. Kuma eagerly awaited a response about her "aromatic scent," but the autistic girl preferred to get tangled up in a discussion about a completely non-existent grammatical error. Kuma didn't care about grammar at that moment, but the interruption left her desire stuck in her throat.

>Katsumi looked at Rena innocently, subtly pointing toward the glasses-wearing girl.

Katsumi: Hoshino is Kuma's surname. Weren't you paying attention when we all introduced ourselves at the start?

>The words that came out of Rena's mouth hit Kuma like a bucket of ice water. Hearing herself openly called "the fat one," Kuma's expression froze in absolute shock. Her face fell with a bitter, negative impression; it wasn't that the term offended her self-esteem, but rather that in her mind it sounded like a death sentence for her fantasies. She knew perfectly well that being perceived solely as a fat person would make it nearly impossible for anyone to objectify or desire her. Who the hell liked fat people? Her longing for sexualized attention vanished in an instant.

>Unaware of Kuma's existential collapse, the imposing giantess stretched out her enormous hand to take one of the lemon cookies on the table. The scene was almost comical: watching Katsumi pick up the cookie was exactly like watching Shaquille O'Neal hold a donut or a piece of fried chicken. What was a standard-sized cookie for any normal person seemed like a miniature version, almost a toy, in the amazon's colossal fingers. Katsumi brought it to her mouth and took a bite, but immediately wrinkled her nose and made a clear grimace of disgust.

Katsumi: Mmm... regarding going for the bat... we could go today, but I think it'd be best to go tomorrow after classes end, right before coming to the club. My dad is ridiculously strict about schedules and demands I get home as early as possible... if I'm late, he'll give me a horrible punishment.
>While chewing the cookie grudgingly, finishing it solely out of politeness and to avoid being rude to Rena, Katsumi curiously observed the sheet Rena was handing her.

Katsumi: Ah! Thank you so much for offering me a character sheet, Rena-chan, really. But I'd prefer to wait until everyone else has chosen their characters first. If no one picks this one in the end, I'll gladly take it. Anyway, I'd love to play a warrior who fights with a giant hammer... that way I can imagine it's my baseball bat!

>At that moment, President Kinoko slid across the room like an hyperactive shadow and pounced on the table to snatch the character sheet from Rena. As her eyes scanned the lines written by the girl, the president's face transformed into a mask of pure fascination.

Kinoko: What absolute marvel! This is tragic, it's passionate, it's painful, it's simply sublime! You have an innate talent for dark storytelling, Rena! It's a masterpiece of suffering!

>As Kinoko continued lavishly praising the character's backstory with a shower of over-the-top adjectives, on the other side of the table hung an air of pure depression. Kuma kept her head pressed against the wooden table, covering her face with both hands while letting out small dramatic sobs. The "6" rating Rena had given her body odor had completely devastated her; in her school mindset, a 6 was a failing grade, meaning she stank or her scent was unpleasant, and that deeply hurt her pride.

>Ignoring the drama of the obese girl, the president pointed to the Vermis box resting in the center of the table.

Kinoko: Every role-playing game requires its own sacred instruments! Inside this box are the dice we'll use for the session; you can take them whenever you want. But listen well: the Zocchiedro del Destino must only be used at moments of vital and absolutely essential importance, like extreme survival rolls or events that change the course of the story within the club and outside of it. Use it wisely!
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>>10919
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuMfyndwARQ
>The setting sun dyed the large windows of Kamome High School's music hall in a warm orange hue. Classes had officially ended, and clubs were scattered across campus engaging in their usual activities. In your case, you were in the Orchestra Club, your first choice for a club. You were attending your first official session as an official club member, and they were playing a beautiful melody like a "welcome" to all new members, an act of camaraderie and to gauge the musical skills of each one.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F28tgh7O8M8
>However, after the final chord, the silence that settled in the room did not bring the usual serenity. It was a tense, heavy silence charged with barely concealed hostility. The last note of the instrumental piece resonated in the air, slowly dissipating among the soundproofed walls and rows of music stands.

>At the front of the group, holding his violin with impeccable and almost aristocratic posture, stood the President of the Orchestra Club. Sviatoslav Voronin, a first-year boy with pale skin, a severe gaze, and silver hair meticulously combed, adjusted the bow in his hands. Dressed in a crisp and refined white uniform, Sviatoslav exuded a cold and distant aura, typical of high Russian nobility.

>Sviatoslav fixed his dark eyes directly on Kumiko. There was no hesitation in his gaze, only glacial coldness.

Voronin: You are out of the Orchestra Club, Larplace.

>The declaration fell into the room like a bucket of ice water; clearly, a sixth sense already told you this was going to happen. Something in your subconscious expected this announcement, and perhaps that is why you filled out the form for that other club. The boy's voice did not tremble; it sounded flat, sharp, and categorical.

Voronin: Don't bother putting away your instrument calmly or asking for prolonged explanations. The decision has been made after a detailed review. Simply put, you do not align with the standards or interests of this ensemble.

>He took a step forward, lowering the bow slightly but maintaining firm composure.

Voronin: Besides, let's be pragmatic. The entire high school is infested with rumors about you. They say you are an easy lay, that you have no decorum whatsoever, and that you sell your body to both teachers and students for a few coins or academic favors. I cannot allow the name of this orchestra to be sullied by the shameful reputation you carry.

>He paused briefly, adjusting the lapel of his uniform with surgical elegance.

Voronin: To make matters worse, the president of the disciplinary committee contacted me personally. She expressed her deep disgust at your mere presence in the hallways due to rumors that you had "sexual relations" with every male member of the committee to stay shielded from them, and she explicitly requested your immediate expulsion. And between us, this club will soon serve as a facade for certain discreet activities of the Mikkoku-kai organization. I need people of absolute trust who know how to keep a secret, not someone so exposed and questionable.

>A few very short meters away, the flute girl and the French horn boy, who until very recently shared laughs and sheet music with Kumiko, sat down next to each other.

>The girl, Fujito Kanzaki, with long dark purple hair and an apparently sweet gaze, flashed a malicious smile while covering part of her face with her transverse flute. Beside her, Leopold von Berg, a blond boy with fair skin and noble bearing but a markedly arrogant attitude, let out a stifled giggle.

Fujito: Oh, please... Did he really think he could stay here acting like nothing happened? Just seeing her makes me sick.
Leopold: Ha, absolutely. They say there isn't a single corner of the back building where she hasn't left her underwear lying around. She's pathetic, truly. What shame it would be to walk the halls knowing what everyone says.

Fujito: And the worst part is how she feigns dementia. She must think no one knows about the history teacher... How convenient. Not even the yard dogs are that low.

Leopold: A real cheap slut ruining the air in the music hall. Thank god Sviatoslav put her in her place before she gave us some moral infection.

Fujito: They say she even sucked off Professor Jack.

Leopold: Who?

Fujito: The fat professor with the big jowls, the ugly old literature guy.

Leopold: Didn't he go by Francis?

Fujito: No idea, but that same one.

Leopold: Disgusting! That girl should go to a brothel! Not a classroom!

Fujito: CUMiko, CUMiko, CUMiko!

Lepold: Hahaha!

>The murmurs were deliberately bold, calculated to tear away any shred of dignity. Fujito and Leopold's suppressed laughter echoed in the corners of the room, backed by the looks of contempt, pity, and mockery from the rest of the club members.

>At the back of the hall, sitting by the wall and holding an imposing cello, was the club's instructor, Ratmir Obolensky. A huge man, robust build, messy red hair, and thick sideburns giving him an imposing and intimidating look. Obolensky was well-known at the institution for his volatile character; not without reason had he been removed from supervising the roleplay club after punching a parent into the hospital during a school meeting.

>The imposing professor didn't even bother to lift his head. He slid the bow across the cello strings, letting flow a grave, soft, and melancholic melody, deliberately ignoring the expulsion and the humiliating verbal lynching the student was suffering.

>Sviatoslav sighed heavily, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand.

Voronin: Anyway. I admit you have some talent with music, Larplace. It's a pity, but those legs spread open will end up ruining your life completely. Get out immediately.

>With no room for rebuttal and under the unbearable weight of dozens of disgusted stares, leaving the music hall felt almost like being kicked out.

>Crossing the door into the main hallway, the situation didn't improve. A group of third-year boys passing by stopped upon seeing Kumiko exit the classroom. Recognizing her, they started laughing among themselves, making vulgar gestures with their hands, explicit innuendos, and inviting her with shameless signals to join them in the empty classrooms at the back. For the student body of Kamome High, the rumor about her was a consummated truth, turning every step down the corridor into a walk loaded with shame and hostility.

>Her eyes burned, pride stung, and the school environment had become completely unbearable. With her reputation shattered in the Orchestra Club and the hallways infested with harassment, options to take refuge within the school grounds had practically shrunk to zero.

>Only two paths remained: cross the gates and flee home with head bowed... or remember that extravagant enrollment form she had filled out days ago.

>That signed document led directly to the abandoned room behind the gymnasium, the secret hideout of the Absolute Roleplay Club for Metaverse Transcendence, Fantastic Escapism, and Preservation of the Sacred Art of Unlimited Multiversal Simulation, commanded by the infamous, loud, and eccentric Kinoko Ichinose, who wasn't known as a whore but whose reputation was just as bad as Kumiko's.

>What do you decide to do?
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The Manifesto of Absolute Evasion: Manual Against the Tyranny of Reality
Written by: Kinoko Ichinose

Chapter III: The Geometric Blasphemy of the Die and the Destruction of Algorithmic Determinism

Look at those little multifaceted plastic jewels resting in their cases or rolling lazily across the table. For the average citizen, domesticated by predictability, a twenty-sided die is nothing more than a cheap plastic toy, a relic of the analog era. But for us, the Kamome resistance, the polyhedron is a catalyst of pure anarchy, an artifact of metaphysical dissent. In a modern world obsessed with absolute control, algorithmic optimization, and the predictability of human behavior, rolling a die is the only true act of faith we have left. It is our declaration of war against prefabricated destiny.

Digital society hates chance. The system we are forced to live under is designed on the premise that everything must be measured, anticipated, and controlled. Algorithms decide what music you should listen to, which videos should lull your brain during the night, what career you should choose to be an efficient cog, and what level of happiness you are allowed to experience based on your socioeconomic status. They have stolen from us the ability to fail gloriously and to win unexpectedly; they have locked us in a cage of probabilities calculated by corporations that want us docile, safe, and perpetually gray. Modern determinism is the death of the human spirit. It tells us that if you were born at the base of the pyramid, your chances of collapsing under the weight of life are ninety-nine percent. It condemns us before we can even roll our initiative.

But the die knows nothing of algorithms! The die has no memory, no prejudices, and owes no allegiance to any school principal, banker, or controlling artificial intelligence.

When you throw a twenty-sided die onto the table, you are invoking primordial chaos in its purest and most democratic state. In that microsecond when the plastic strikes the old wood, the entire universe stops. It doesn't matter if you are the student with the best grades or the outcast everyone mocks; before the physics of the bounce, both are exactly equal. A "natural 20" cannot be bought with money, inherited from influential parents, or hacked with a phone app. It is a mathematical miracle that belongs solely to you in that suspended moment of time. It is the moment where the weak behead the giant, where the stupidest and most improvised plan becomes a tactical work of art, and where the tyranny of logic kneels before the beauty of the impossible.
This is the true power of classic roleplay: it returns to us the right to tragic failure and unexpected redemption. Modernity has inoculated us with a pathological fear of error. We are taught that one wrong step in your academic or social history is an indelible stain that will ruin your future forever. We live with a noose around our necks, measuring every word, feigning plastic perfection on social media so we aren't canceled or rejected by the superficial hive. What a cowardly and suffocating existence! At our table, however, failure is part of the poetry. A "natural 1" isn't the end of the world; it's the beginning of the best story you'll ever tell. It's the comedic stumble that humanizes your hero, it's the sword slipping from your hands at the worst possible moment forcing you to improvise with a tavern burning around you, it's the wound that makes your subsequent victory truly sweet.

By embracing the dice's randomness, we actively sabotage the factory education imposed on us by Kamome. They train us to be standardized problem-solvers, organic robots applying formula A to get result B. But roleplay forces us to inhabit chaos. It throws us into situations where common logic rules don't apply, where we must look our companions in the eye and make life-or-death fictional decisions in fractions of a second, trusting only our intuition and the loyalty of the person beside us. That uncertainty wakes us from lethargy. It returns the adrenaline of being truly alive, a sensation that the anesthetizing comfort of modern life has systematically removed from us so we don't cause trouble.

We aren't stupid. We know the gravity of reality will drag us back down as soon as we cross the living room door. Monday morning we'll return to being numbers on an attendance list, tired bodies dragging through noisy hallways under the condemning gaze of a society that doesn't want us here. But we will have inoculated the virus of doubt into our minds. Once you've experienced the absolute freedom of defying destiny with a six-sided piece of plastic, you can never look at your chains the same way again. You know the system isn't infallible. You know the probabilities condemning you are just numbers someone else wrote, and that always, no matter how dark your daily life dungeon is, you have the right to grab the dice, look into the abyss, and declare with pride: "I'm going to roll to see if I survive".

If anyone made it this far...! Tell my grandma...! GRANDMA, IT'S YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER AND I MADE IT! READ CHAPTER 4!
Rena Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10923 es
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>>10920
>Katsumi: Hoshino is Kuma's surname. Weren't you paying attention when we all introduced ourselves at the start?
Jo...shi...mo...cu , ma....cuma jochimo
-Commonly there exists the mistaken belief that humans don't use 100% of their mental capacity; this is a false belief. For daily life, we use that or more to move, eat, breathe, blink, think, and so on. But now, inside the mind of an autistic girl, a superhuman effort was underway: trying to assign a name and a face to store them in memory. Using 200% of her mental capacity, Rena managed to formulate a logical answer before her brain overheated like a PC-

Kuma = Bear, Bear = Big, fat people can be big, ...Fatso!!! -she said this as a verdict, with a gleam in her eyes, feeling somewhat proud of her deduction. She pointed at Kuma and repeated-
FATSO!!!
-Imagining her in a bear onesie like the one Rena had at home, it would definitely look good if she wore that, and smell like chocolate. To Rena, this was giving Kuma a compliment, though surely the fat girl wouldn't take it well since Rena didn't express her thoughts in words-

-After Katsumi's huge hands took a cookie, she ate it, though it seems she didn't like the taste. Lemon isn't for everyone-

>
Katsumi: Mmm... regarding going for the bat... we could go today, but I think it's best to go tomorrow after school ends, right before coming to the club. My dad is ridiculously strict about schedules and demands I get home as early as possible... if I'm late, he'll give me a horrible punishment.
Tomorrow after classes....-Rena thought for a few seconds without saying anything-
Alright, so I'll prepare things and come ready for any unforeseen situation, but in case of emergency before getting there, you'll lend me your bat, so we do everything quickly and avoid you being late so your father doesn't punish you. In any case if things go wrong, I'll take responsibility, and I'll tell your dad it was my fault.

>Katsumi: Ah! Thank you so much for offering me a character sheet, Rena-chan, really. But I'd prefer to wait until the others choose their characters first. If no one picks this one in the end, I'll gladly take it. Anyway, I'd love to play a warrior who fights with a giant hammer... that way I can imagine it's my baseball bat!
You're welcome, but don't pretend you liked them. Tell me your favorite flavor and I'll bring some tomorrow to share. These were given to me by the fat girl.....mmm
-Rena started thinking about what was said, a warrior with a hammer-
Dwarves fight with hammers in fantasy works; it would be ironic considering your appearance. You could just adapt a sword into a great mace, or have a hammer like Thor's, or if what you want are bigger hammers they could be like John Egbert's. Start by sketching your War Hammer forty thousand
- Hammers could be good weapons, from a simple tool for fighting in a hallway to the weapon of a Norse god, or a colorful weapon created by cherubs that will be wielded by a nerd boy-
https://youtu.be/VwIIDzrVVdc?si=sqr1HCQopDIXluXp....I remember when my sister threatened a guy with a hammer who...

>At that moment, President Kinoko slid across the room like an hyperactive shadow and pounced on the table to snatch Rena's character sheet. As her eyes scanned the lines written by the girl, the president's face transformed into a mask of pure fascination.

>Kinoko: "But what absolute marvel! This is tragic, it's passionate, it's painful, it's simply sublime! You have an innate talent for dark narrative, Rena! It's a masterpiece of suffering!"
https://youtube.com/shorts/LpFeCVa01-8?si=O0QVbE3aA1qyzoN4thanks
- again, the compliments made her blush a little, but not enough to receive tickles, although the more praise she received, the redder she became -

>The president, ignoring the drama of the obese one, pointed to the Vermis box resting in the center of the table.
-Rena leans forward to grab the box and bring it closer to her, and just as Kinoko said, it was full of dice, though there were no blue ones like she would have liked, so she chose a purple d50 and a green d20 to contrast-
The colors of the eva...

>Kinoko: "Every role-playing game requires its own sacred instruments! Inside this box are the dice we will use for the session; you can take them whenever you want. But listen well: the Zocchiedro del Destiny must only be used at moments of vital and essential importance, like extreme survival rolls or events that change the course of the story within the club and outside of it. Use it wisely!"
...
-Rena took out her Zocchiedro del Destiny from her pocket, examining it closely. The president's words echoed in her head; for some strange reason...Rena already knew these things, or at least assumed she would know them. How? That's what she doesn't know. Could a die actually work in real life? Affecting actions within the club might be LARPing, but outside of it? ...a strange sensation invaded Rena's mind, as if reality itself was bending before the die she now held in her fingers, a familiar yet not exact sensation-

I understand, thank you again for your lessons, President.
-Rena puts her Zocchiedro del Destiny in her bra so she doesn't lose it; she should find a safer way to carry it, it could fall out of her jacket pocket-

(I'll respond to this last part and wait for others to reply)
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10924 es
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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Shintaro_Class3B))) 4 hours ago

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[DEFINITIVE GUIDE] The real yokais and legends of our school (and no, I'm not talking about the girl in the bathroom again) 👻👹

Hello everyone. I'm making this post because I'm sick of seeing first-years getting scared over nonsense or falling for the dumbest traps on campus. I've been at Kamome High for three years, and I swear by my university admission that the folklore of this school is much darker, more absurd, and more specific than what generic forums say. To stop you from wandering around blind, here's the real list of entities and phenomena haunting our hallways, how to survive them, and testimonies from those who've faced them face-to-face.

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Von Karma the Tongue-of-Fire (The Spirit of the Fallen Warrior)

In the connecting hallway between the old building and the labs, just as sunset falls, a terrifying figure often materializes. It's a woman nearly three meters tall, with a pathetically thin, skeletal frame, skin pale as plaster, and long black hair reaching her ankles. They say she's not a common yokai, but the disembodied spirit of Marceline Von Karma, a fearsome commander who died in combat decades ago during the mythical battle between human forces and the invading Von Karma clan. But forget military glory: her specter rotted into the earth and became a shameless, lustful entity obsessively fixated on the bodies of female students. Marceline moves hunched over, contorting her long bony limbs while emitting heavy panting. Her most grotesque feature is her tongue: a bifurcated, wet, disproportionately large muscle over a meter long that drags out of her mouth. When she detects a lone student, the entity slides at a chilling speed and approaches from behind. She wraps her skinny arms around the girl's waist to immobilize her, then proceeds with her harassment: dragging her enormous tongue from ankle to thigh, or slowly tracing the back of the victim's neck and throat, leaving a trail of thick, boiling slime with a cloying smell of cheap perfume mixed with burnt gunpowder. While performing these lewd acts, the spirit moans with pleasure and murmurs obscene phrases about how soft young skin is. The slime causes uncontrollable erotic burning and hypersensitivity in the skin lasting hours, leaving the girl in shock and absolute shame.
El Akaku-Gatame (The Red Gripper)

In the traditional arts room, behind the cabinet where old tatami mats are stored, lives a grotesque and chubby creature resembling a hybrid between a bald monkey and a mass of mossy red clay. This yokai is an incorrigible pervert who stalks exclusively students left alone folding judo or kendo club uniforms. Its only ability is manifesting as a hot mud claw that bursts from the floor to grip a student's ankle with monstrous force, causing them to lose balance and fall backward; at that moment, the entity takes advantage to try yanking down their pants or skirt at superhuman speed while emitting stifled giggles. Anyone caught suffers the absolute humiliation of being left in underwear in the middle of the hall, and worse, a red mud handprint on their skin that won't wash off with soap for three full days. The only known way to break free is to shout a very specific insult about its lack of body hair in a firm voice, or throw a pair of used socks, which distracts it with disgust and makes it retreat into the wood. Last month, Kenji from the track team swore that while storing some mats he felt a burning hand on his ankle, and before he could react, his pants were already around his knees in front of two second-year girls; he says he clearly heard a high-pitched voice say "what terrible taste in boxers" before the mud evaporated.

El Mokuzai-Sukuriputo (The Bathroom Door Scribe)
Forget traditional bathroom legends; this entity inhabits exclusively the third stall of the second-floor men's room. It is a shapeless mass of wood shavings and rusty staples that comes to life at midnight, carving absurd erotic verses and ridiculously detailed drawings of teachers into the door's wood. If someone enters that stall late at night, the yokai locks the latch from the outside and begins reciting the erotic poetry in an otherworldly sensual voice but exaggeratedly loud, making it echo down the entire hallway. The real danger lies in the fact that if you don't laugh at its terrible rhymes, the creature slowly narrows the door until it crushes you against the toilet, trapping you until the janitor arrives in the morning. To escape unharmed, you must respond to its poetry by improvising a rhyme about fast food or defecation in the same dramatic tone, which will satisfy its artistic ego and cause the latch to pop open instantly. A first-year student got locked in there after studying too late and had to listen for two hours to explicit poems about the school principal while the door pressed on his shoulders; he only managed to get out when he screamed an improvised poem about instant ramen.

The Oshiri-Hime (The Hot Seat Spirit)

This urban legend is one of the most annoying in the school library's collection. It is the ghost of an old student who died of exhaustion preparing for exams and now manifests as an invisible thermal stain inhabiting wooden chairs. If you sit on a chair infused with the Oshiri-Hime, you'll instantly feel the seat boiling, as if someone had sat there for ten straight hours under the sun. This yokai's ability is to infuse an uncontrollable urge to let out loud, odorless farts every time the silence in the library is absolute. The affected student tries to hold it in, but the ghost's thermal energy presses on their stomach until the noise interrupts everyone present, causing immediate expulsion from the premises and irreparable public shame. To neutralize the effect, you must give three firm knuckle taps on the seat before sitting and say "this chair is colder than iced tea." A boy from my club ignored the rumor, sat down without checking, and ended up letting out three thunderous farts right when the librarian demanded sepulchral silence, swearing he felt a hot air current pushing his insides from the seat.

The Gakushoku-Choukan (The Lunch Inspector)
This is a dwarf-like, wrinkled entity with a giant daikon radish-shaped head, wearing a traditional loincloth and wandering the empty hallways during break time. Its sole life purpose is to inspect and judge students' bento boxes. If you leave your lunchbox on the desk and go to the bathroom, the inspector will appear, lick every single food item to "taste the seasoning," and absurdly rearrange the contents—like putting rice inside the tea thermos or hiding sausages in the pencil case. If the lunch doesn't please him because he deems it "too modern," he'll leave a ball of skunk fur right in the middle of the meal, ruining anyone's appetite for the rest of the day. The only effective defense is to leave a small note inside the bento box with a poorly drawn smiling radish; the entity interprets this as a tribute of respect and leaves the food untouched. My friend Tanaka forgot to put the note one Tuesday, and when she returned to her seat, she found her chicken croquettes stuffed inside her sneakers and a thick saliva mark on her lunchbox lid.

The Kutsubako-Kami (The Shoe Locker Pervert)

Located at the main entrance, in the area where students swap outdoor shoes for indoor slippers, lives a spirit formed from hundreds of old shoelaces and worn-out soles, hiding deep within the darkest lockers. This yokai has the annoying habit of swapping students' right shoes for shoes three sizes too small or for bunny-patterned house slippers. Furthermore, if a student blindly reaches into the locker to find their lost shoe, the entity will lick their fingers with a rough, cold tongue like dried fish skin, leaving behind an old foot-sweat smell that takes hours to fade. The impact isn't just the discomfort of limping all day in mismatched shoes, but the paranoid feeling of being groped by a medieval textile fetish. To counter it, stomp the floor twice hard before opening the locker door and reach in with a sock on your hand like a glove. Last Monday, I saw a third-year kid reach in confidently, let out a soul-rending scream, then pull out fingers covered in clear slime, while the adjacent locker opened on its own to reveal a pink plush sneaker that clearly wasn't his.

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There you have it. Be careful, don't leave your bentos unattended, and please stop touching those hot library chairs. If anyone else has encountered these entities, leave a comment below so we can keep updating the list.
Rolero Heliodor-3fd609 No.10925 es
OP here Seika, I'll be away for a few days, can I join the next general as if I had always been there? Kisses and hugs
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10926 es
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>>10925
Of course, little player, I don't have any grudges about taking time to respond or being absent and reappearing later. You and anyone else can take days and join the club as if nothing happened! This role doesn't prioritize activity. If I wanted to, I could respond, but I'm a patient LOREMASTER.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10927 es
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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Sora_1B))) 3 hours ago

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Does anyone else know the truth about Kinoko Ichinose? 🚨

Guys, a cousin of mine who works in healthcare confirmed that Ichinose isn't a real student; she was admitted to Asahiyama Psychiatric Hospital in Asahi-ku when she was 5 but recently escaped! She's a lunatic from an asylum! My cousin says Kinoko killed a nurse and set fire to her entire classroom with her classmates and teacher inside at her previous school! So scary!

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Comments:

>u/Kenji_K
No wonder she always has that lost crazy look and talks to herself in the corners of the courtyard. Disgusting and dangerous to have a psychopath like that in class; hope they expel her before she stabs someone.

>u/Miku_R
Hahaha, I knew it wasn't normal. Gives off such a creepy vibe. She'll probably collapse in the middle of class any minute now. Better stay away from that insane woman.

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Anonymus_Kamome))) 5 hours ago

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Beware of the History Teacher (The one with the big double chin) 🔪

I investigated his background and everything adds up. That fat guy who teaches us Japanese literature isn't Japanese; he fled from the United States of Humanity (Yeah, what used to be America) because the FBI was after him there! He's a fugitive serial killer! They call him the Anaheim Butcher! He's hiding in Kamome using a fake identity and taking advantage of his grotesque double chin and ridiculous appearance so no one suspects anything. Rumor has it he buries remains in the school's backyard 🤯🤯🤯

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Comments:

>u/Daiki_3A
That greasy fatso always makes me feel unbearable disgust. Every time he speaks, his double chin wiggles in a repulsive way. Totally fits the profile of a gringo psychopath who kills people for fun.

>u/Yumi_2C
What a disgusting guy, plus he always smells like rancid sweat. Hope they deport him back to his country or throw him in jail already; it's unbearable having to see his face every day.
>u/Gero_3B
I hope they deport all that gaijin trash 🖕

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Fujito_Class2A))) 2 hours ago

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What NO ONE tells you about Kumiko Larplace ☣️

She plays the saint, but Larplace's history is dark. Before transferring to Kamome, she was an adult film actress with a cheap stage name. And not only that: I was confirmed she has AIDS from that same promiscuous life she led. Plus, after so many videos and sleeping with half of Osaka, she got so deformed that literally a whole plane could fit down there. Total disgust.

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Comments:

>u/Ren_K
LOL You can tell from a mile away how used and destroyed she is! What a disgusting chick, I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. They should ban her entry so she doesn't contaminate the chairs.

>u/Hana_1A
Super easy come by. How repulsive to know we study with someone so infected and dirty. Let her go back to her cheap movies.

>u/Porta234
She HAS AIDS?! I already slept with that bitch! 😭😭😭😭

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Kaito_Insider))) 6 hours ago

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THE GREAT SCAM: Ri Soteki DOES NOT EXIST 💸

Has anyone seen Ri Soteki in person? The answer is NO. I checked the lists of different clubs. "Ri Soteki" is just a ghost name invented by Director Kuragane. He invented a fictional student with perfect grades to claim the government's excellence scholarship and keep all the money. They are robbing us right in our faces.

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Comments:

>u/Shin_2B
No wonder I've never seen him anywhere! What a rat and corrupt old man we have as director, using invisible students to fill his pockets while the labs fall apart.

>u/Aoi_3C
Ridiculous that they use such absurd names to invent a student. Kuragane is trash; I hope the education board takes him down for being a thief.

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Mei_Princess))) 4 hours ago
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'''Jhon Miller's secret exposed 🍆 microscopic**

Jhon Miller acts like a ladies' man but I heard from someone who was with him in the men's locker room that he's a repressed gay guy. And that's not even the worst part: the poor guy has a micropenis that looks like a peanut. That's why he always changes clothes hidden in the corner and never enters the group showers.

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Comments:

>u/Goku_2A
Hahaha, knew that much drama about changing clothes wasn't normal!

>u/Naomi_1B
What a shameful type. Acts so high and mighty only to turn out to be a pervert with a peanut. Go back to your country and make people feel secondhand embarrassment.

>u/Anonimo1283893
I think small penises are cute.

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Mayu_3B))) 1 hour ago

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Bibi and Hotaru: Toxic and sick couple 🤮

Everyone sees Bibi and Hotaru holding hands down the hallways like they're the perfect girlfriend couple, but the reality is awful. Both are obsessively fixated on their weight in an unhealthy way and are severely bulimic. They go into the second-floor bathroom together after lunch to vomit absolutely everything. The smell they leave behind in there is unbearable.

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Comments:

>u/Riku_1A
What a pair of mentally ill freaks. It's disgusting to enter the bathroom after those two leave. They evoke both pity and revulsion at the same time.

>u/Emi_2C
What a toxic and unpleasant relationship. Instead of girlfriends, they look like two walking corpses competing to see who's more repulsive. Hope they get sent away for therapy far from here.

>u/Cheap_Trick69
Have you seen Bibi's stupid costume? She needs to grow up! So cringe!

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Hiro_Class3A))) 7 hours ago

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Takahara is a TOTAL FRAUD🤡

A former middle school classmate told me Takahara is actually a hideous, ugly, fat girl, but wears boy's clothes to pretend she's a guy so no one will mock her for being a hideous girl nobody would ever sleep with. She looks like a deformed monster.
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Comments:

>u/Souta_2B
I say if he's a fat idiot! Disgusting!

>u/Yuki_1C
Looks like a giant hamster XD

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Kazuki_2C))) 8 hours ago

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💣 Shizuku Lebedeva is PREGNANT by the janitor

This is 100% real. Several people saw Shizuku Lebedeva crying while leaving the old building's rancid janitor's closet. Turns out the "star student" is having an affair with that disgusting old man and her belly is already showing. She's pregnant by him and doesn't know how to hide it before it becomes too obvious and she gets kicked out of school.

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Comments:

>u/Takumi_3A
How disgusting and how far she fell. Getting tangled up with that decrepit, dirty old man... you have to be truly miserable. So repulsive.

>u/Rin_1B
Ha, her air of superiority ran out on the little saint. Ruined her life with the janitor, what a well-deserved humiliation for offering herself.

>u/CleanMaster10
Leave my future wife alone.

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(((r/KamomeGossip_Osaka • Posted by u/Nori_1A))) 3 hours ago

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Rena's true identity 🪖 traumatized

Did you think Rena was quiet because she's shy? Not at all. Rena is actually a former mercenary war veteran who went completely insane and lost her memory after an explosion. She was sent to Kamome with a fake identity to reintegrate, but this chick has severe mental gaps and at any moment she could have a PTSD attack and massacre us all.

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Comments:

>u/Kenta_3B
No wonder she goes pale staring into space like an idiot. What danger it is to have a traumatized war vet loose in the school, she's a time bomb.

>u/Mei_Princess
How weird and creepy she is. She should be in a hospital for crazy veterans, not stumbling around our classroom. Gives pure distrust.

>u/FuckDaPolice
I want to kill her.
Rolero Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10928 es
>>10927
(i want to roll and the board is so dead, i hate all of you!!!...setting that aside, i'm asking here because i don't think it's worth having a meta...at least not yet, oh yeah????, how clean is the school? because of the yokai of the cramps i questioned this, and then i remember the bathroom with shit on the wall, and that it's full of delinquents, so, who in reality takes care to keep the floor clean? is it 100% strict to use the damn school shoes instead of the normal ones? and all this, do you have a map of the school???)

>The true identity of Rena 🪖 traumatized
https://youtu.be/rp0n9RPoDI4?si=ctps6914j5HEf8kH )
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10929 es
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>>10928
Sometimes it happens, sometimes it happens, I don't worry, the board lol dies and revives constantly, it's a cycle we should get used to or wait for new players, the roleplay club still has spots!!!!!

>how clean is the school?
The janitor doesn't even have personal hygiene. Did that answer your question? Kek

>Who really cares about keeping the floor clean?
The principal... The janitor doesn't do anything if the principal or other teachers don't order him to, he's the typical guy who lazes around until the boss tells him what to do, that's why there are cleaner areas than others, like the surroundings of the teachers' lounge and abandoned places like the roleplay club room.

>is it 100% strict to wear the fucking school shoes instead of normal ones?
It's a rule but almost nobody follows it, like many other rules in a normal Japanese school.

>and all this, do you have a map of the school planned???
I have the idea in my head but I don't know where to make a map, I'm not convinced with AI at least for making a high school map but I would like to 🤔
Seika Heliodor-3fd609 No.10930 es
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>>10927
And why are there no entries of mine on the subreddit? When I send my turn I want at least 3 threads revolving around Seika mwah*
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10931 es
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>>10930
Because you are popular and have your own fan Facebook group just for you! It's full of stalkers and degenerates! But it's more than you ask of me!
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[ WE ARE JUSTICE ✊👊✊✊ ]
Group created by Saigusa Norimitsu
Participants: Saigusa (Admin), Tadashi, Himawari, Yushin, Kujo, Otome, Ren.

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<Tadashi Yamato
⚠️ Maximum alert to the committee! You won't believe the disgusting filth I stumbled upon during my "student protection" patrol.
15:31

<Tadashi Yamato
Seika Ijuuin is inside that damn Roleplay Club! 🤢 How the hell did that girl agree to be surrounded by such weird virgins? It's repulsive to see someone of her status degrade themselves like that.
15:32

<Himawari Shion
Seika there? The one with the nice curves? Please... she surely just went looking for some desperate attention. It's pathetic. Although if she wanted to, she could crush those nerds without blinking 💅✨
15:35

<Yushin Takatou
Well... if she agreed to enter, maybe the club isn't that bad, right? I mean... maybe they're just playing and not hurting anyone... 😅
15:39

<Kujo Tachibana
Please, Yushin, shut up. Nobody wants to listen to the blabbering of a characterless commoner. If Seika is there, it's surely to flirt with some poor fool. Although of course, none of them will even reach my lineage's heels 🍷✨
15:42

<Otome Sayuri
Absolute disgust! Just thinking about those perverts isolated in a classroom makes me nauseous. We should go in, drag them by their hair to the central courtyard and make them clean the bathrooms with their tongues like pigs 👠 They want "fantasy," I'll give them a nightmare.
15:45

<Ren Mizukage
Order. The President has not issued her stance yet. Silence in the channel.
15:47

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
Enough. I don't give a damn what Seika Ijuuin does. My real problem in that rat club is called Kinoko Ichinose.
15:48

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
That poor wretch thinks she can mock the school's discipline by acting as if the institute were her playground. I'm sick of Kinoko. And before that plague graduates, I have something prepared for her that won't just end her reputation... it will destroy her entire life and wipe the Roleplay Club off the face of this high school forever.
15:49

<Tadashi Yamato
That's how you speak, President! Committee justice always prevails! ⚖️
15:51

<Tadashi Yamato
But... Saigusa-sama, with all due respect, we must be very careful. Remember that the Roleplay Club has the direct backing of that teacher... Jack... He's as vile and degenerate as Kinoko herself, but he has influence on the board of directors and could be an obstacle to our control.
15:52

<Otome Sayuri
That idiot... I hate how he thinks he has power. I vote to falsely accuse him of harassment involving some investor's daughter. His life will be destroyed in 24 hours and he'll be on his knees begging for mercy.
15:55

<Kujo Tachibana
Too vulgar, Otome. Better to ruin him financially. A couple of signatures with my name, freeze his accounts, and leave him on the street like the insignificant dog he is.
15:57

<Himawari Shion
Or we can leak fake compromising photos made with AI.. Gullible men love falling for chat traps and then cry when they lose their homes 🤭
15:59

<Yushin Takatou
Hey... isn't that too much? Maybe we could just... I don't know... talk to the principal... 🥺
16:03

<Ren Mizukage
Negative. Suggest physical neutralization and blackmail with fake medical records. Permanent disability. Problem solved.
16:08

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
Don't waste time on details. Don't worry about the teacher. I'll personally handle everything related to the board of directors and the parents' assembly. I'll have the high command eating out of my hand.
16:10

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
Kinoko's cockroach is just a minor headache. Now, let's move on to serious matters. We need to settle things with the Kamome gangs, especially the Mikkoku-kai.
16:11

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
Their leader, the "Cyclops of Kamome," wants to start selling heavier merchandise in the area. Fentanyl and ketamine. We'll give them the green light, but in exchange, we'll demand triple the quota.
16:13

<Tadashi Yamato
Excellent move, Presi. We secure a juicy slice for "turning a blind eye." And best of all, we'll pin the blame for the trafficking on the Gairai-ha gang. We'll fabricate evidence so the police lock up their leader for life! Keep the streets "clean" for the press! 🫡💸
16:15

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
Exactly. Also make sure to keep covering up rape cases among women within the Onna-gumi band. Not a single report should come out of the infirmary. And regarding the injured and fractured left by the Gurentai gang in their night fights, keep filing complaints as "sports accidents."
16:18

<Yushin Takatou
Understood, Saigusa-sama... I already altered last week's medical files as you asked...
16:19

<Kujo Tachibana
By the way, changing the subject for a moment. The leader of Harpya contacted me using my elite connections.
16:22

<Kujo Tachibana
She requested that we provide reports and files on students recently expelled from Kamome. Her gang wants to "recruit" them to send them to the Oceania islands and sell them to their human trafficking buyers. They'll give us a commission in yen.
16:23

>Saigusa Norimitsu (Presi)
THAT IS NOT TO BE SPOKEN OF HERE 🤬😠🤬😠🤬😠
16:23
Rolero Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10933 es
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>>10929
can you make them simple like the ones from resident evil and silent hill on ps1, you just use paint and write the names of the rooms and that's it
>>10930
kek
>>10931
can the subreddit be hacked?
>>10932
>they use whatsapp and not line
well, the latin customs stuck to them
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10934 pt
>>10913
Sorry OP for the mega death, today I'll try to send my turn, I've been busy
Bibi Native Gold-d22657 No.10935 es
Tomorrow I'll send my shift, I went with my family to a birthday party and we rented some cabins kek, I'm coming back tomorrow, if I don't have a hangover (I've had one every day of these) then I'll send my shift.

By the way, do you like Heroes 3 OP?
El gordo Tulite-2cd290 No.10936 es
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>>10917

>Kinoko's punch messes up his head, sinking even more the folds of his double chin into his neck and messing up his hair. Rubbing his head, the fat guy repositions everything with a few small tugs.

<He fantasizes about hitting his corpse so hard that it causes a complete anal prolapse

Are we still talking about the roleplay or do you intend to extend these activities into reality?

>With a half-smile, the fat guy turns towards GP and then starts raising his eyebrows one after another in a very obvious invitation.

I don't know if my head isn't giving me these days or what, but I have no idea what else to put in the turn

>>10927
>he arrived fleeing from the United States of Humanity (Yes, what used to be America) because they were looking for him there by the FBI
Well not that far

>>10932
>we froze his accounts
Ternurita thinks I get paid ¿Where are they going to send the checks when I don't even have a fixed name? kek

>spreading fake compromising photos made with AI
No AI can create images more compromising than what he does daily

>ketamine
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDThn6RYvjg
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>>10933
I came up with a better and lazier idea, thanks for the maps keke

>can the subreddit be hacked?
Anything is possible in the role-playing club... As long as it's well justified!!!

>>10934
Don't worry, little player, take your time to respond and keep enjoying the role-playing club, good luck with your irl stuff!!!

>>10935
I hope you're enjoying your trip and the cabin, we all deserve a vacation, drink responsibly!!!

>Do you like Heroes 3 OP?
Yes.

>>10936
First, clear your mind and when your imagination is at its peak, you can respond without problems, we all have those creative blocks so it's normal, we can wait for you here with pleasure, still thanks for responding!!!
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10938 es
>>10934
shitty day, one fuck-up after another and hours wasted. in the end, nothing, tomorrow will be.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10939 es
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>The cellphone ringtone sounds.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6TYub_8iyU
>Answer the call.

Nagi: H-Hello? Hello?

Hanaya: Well, well... Look who answered, the little naive new recruit. What's up, rookie? Didn't know how to pick up the phone, or were you busy stroking your balls?

Nagi: Ah! Hanaya-san! Good morning... I mean, good afternoon. No, no, not at all, I was expecting your call. Sorry for the delay, I didn't recognize the number.

Hanaya: Save the formalities, Nagi. You make me sick when you talk like a loyal puppy. Listen closely, you're not part of the Mikkoku-kai yet, don't get excited. You're a nobody. But if you keep doing the "little jobs" and errands I order you to do, sooner or later you could become an official dealer for the gang and start making good money. For now, be content with being the errand boy, mine and my friends'. Got it?

Nagi: Yes! Understood perfectly, Hanaya-san. Being the errand boy is no problem, I'll do whatever it takes to prove my loyalty. I really want to join the Mikkoku-kai and prosper here.

Hanaya: Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dreamer. Anyway, I heard you're from Asashi High School, so you're practically new and have no damn idea how things move around here in Kamome. Since I don't want you to step into the wrong territory and get yourself killed before you're useful to me, I just sent you some photos in the chat with the school blueprints so you can get oriented. Keep your ears wide open because I'm only going to explain this once.

Nagi: Thank you very much! I just got the photos... I'm looking at them right now.

Hanaya: Good. As you'll see, there are two entrances at Kamome. There's the usual big entrance, the main one, and the parking lot entrance. Listen carefully: the parking lot is "neutral territory." Don't you dare scratch another gang's motorcycle or put horse shit in a teacher's car there. That could start a war in all of Kamome. It's a sacred place where no one can interfere.
Nagi: Noted. No trouble in the parking lot.

Hanaya: Exactly. Now focus on the main entrance. As you cross it, the first thing you'll see are two buildings: the "New Buildings" or Section 1 and Section 2. "New" is just a name, they're already old, but they were the last to be built. They're used for almost all the clubs, but each building is territory for different gangs. Section 1 is Gurentai territory, and Section 2 belongs to Onna-gumi. Each building has its allied clubs.

Nagi: So the clubs are divided by gang... Which ones belong to each so I don't get them mixed up?

Hanaya: Pay attention. In Section 1, which is Gurentai's, there are fifteen allied clubs: kendo, karate, judo, calligraphy, art, shogi, go, tea ceremony, flower arranging, photography, journalism, taekwondo, cooking, sewing, and manga. On the other hand, Section 2 is Onna-gumi's and also has fifteen dominated clubs: modern dance, cheerleading, cosplay, robotics, occultism, traditional dance, ping-pong, film, origami, debate, languages, sumo, wrestling, ceramics, and gardening. Are you getting the division or should I draw you a picture with apples?

Nagi: No, no, perfect, Hanaya-san. Everything is very clear. And what's after those two buildings?

Hanaya: Past the two new buildings is the Main Building, but I'll tell you about that at the end. Right next to the main one is the Observatory. That building belongs to the Astronomy Club and the UFO Club, but it's actually used as a hideout by the Gairai-Ha gang. Don't go near there; we don't get along with those weirdos at all. Same with the School Auditorium, there you can find the drama club and its related activities.

Nagi: Understood, stay away from the Observatory and the Auditorium.

Hanaya: On the other side is the School Store. There you can buy food, snacks, school supplies, and, of course, your drugs and other illegal crap. Obviously, the store is our gang's territory.
Nagi: Oh, of course! Our territory.

Hanaya: Following the path, before you get to the sports area, you'll run into the statue of Ragyo Nishinomiya. She's the richest woman in Japan and owner of REVOCS, the most powerful tech company in the country. She, or well, her company, founded Kamome High School.

Nagi: Wow... I've heard of REVOCS in the news. Impressive.

Hanaya: Yeah, whatever. Past the statue, you enter the Sports Zone. That's where the basketball courts, the gym, the pool, and the soccer field are. They also run the Soccer Club, Basketball Club, Baseball Club, Swimming Club, Track and Field Club, Boxing Club, and all the athletic clubs. That area is constantly in dispute because Gurentai, Gairai-Ha, and Onna-gumi want to get their hands on it and are always fighting. Although... I've heard the rumor that it's actually Harpyia's secret base, but I honestly know little to nothing about it.

Nagi: Wow, sounds dangerous to be around the courts alone.

Hanaya: It is. Behind the entire sports zone is the Old Building. It was Kamome's first building and is no longer in use; it's just old, dusty classrooms. Nobody wants to go there, though I understand the losers from the Role-Playing Club occupy it. Doesn't matter, they're Kamome's scum.

Nagi: I see, nobody pays them any attention.

Hanaya: Good. Let's go back to the Main Building, that's the main event. On the first floor, you'll find the teachers' lounge, the janitor's storage room, the nurse's office run by the faggot Dr. Wang, and three classrooms for the first-year groups. On the second floor are the 4 second-year classrooms. There's also the music room where the Orchestra Club rehearses, the lost and found locker room, the library, and the library reserve. Nobody uses those last two places for reading; the idiots from the Reading Club who go there to try and read end up getting beaten up. Oh, and the laboratory with its equipment room, which belong to the Chemistry Club.

Nagi: And the third floor?

Hanaya: The third and final floor has 4 classrooms for the third-years. There's the computer lab for the Computer Club, and the smoking room, which teachers use more because students smoke wherever they please, though sometimes there are drugged people lying on the floor. There's also the surveillance room, which is the headquarters of the Disciplinary Committee... and the secret storage room. That's where we keep our product for sale. The entire Main Building belongs to us for buying and selling, though honestly, it's the building with the most disputes between gangs because we all have to coexist there daily.

Nagi: I understand... And what's on the rooftop?

Hanaya: On the rooftop is the boiler room and another storage room, crap that only matters to the janitor. The open part of the roof is known as "The King Maker." That's where the different gangs go to choose their new leader or renew the old one each year. Anyone can participate in the clapping game... I might participate this year. Anyway, the roof is sacred ground for everyone; nobody claims it due to the little respect we have left. Damn delinquents and their codes. I'll see you there when this year's game happens.

Nagi: Understood everything, Hanaya-san.

Hanaya: Agh... My mouth is dry from talking so much. Be useful for once: go to the school store and buy me an ice pop. And listen carefully, if I get the winning wrapper that gives a free trip to the Kerama Islands... I might let you join the gang without so much trouble.

Nagi: Really?! I'll run there right now to buy it, Hanaya-san! Thank you so much for the opportunity!

Hanaya: You better not take too long. See ya.

>Call ended

(Call recorded by Kage Investigation Agency)
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10940 es
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>>10904
>>10905
>>10906
While I was saying things that seemed incoherent to me about the topic of "hitting and being hit" of the pale boy with bandages on his arms, I started noticing his microexpressions. The feelings that crossed his mind, the things he went through in life, and the attempt to try not to see what was in front of him were evident. I really didn't think my observations would be of any use, but apparently, it broke a fog of self-deception that he was trying to maintain, but which today had vanished. But fear, the fear of the new, the fear of the old, and the fear of what might happen to him is stronger than any other vision, leaving him where he was, but Really, what did you expect? No one learns to carry the truth the same day they discover it, and not every battle is fought the day it begins. It was foolish to expect that because a complete stranger clarified his ideas a little, one would face life itself, try to cross the river in a single leap. Every mountain is climbed step by step, and recognizing a wound doesn't heal it instantly, but it's the beginning of any recovery, so it doesn't matter if he did nothing, it doesn't matter if he was afraid, one cannot go blind again after having seen, but yes, you may still need time to learn to live with it.

>He says goodbye and leaves, then he introduces himself to the other club members, they wiggle their fingers, and the challenges start here and there. The owner of the club gets excited and pats me on the back, causing an uncomfortable sensation of chills that makes my skin crawl. My breasts were firm and well-shaped, but compact in size, for a Superior Aero-Chad. And after that scene of possible harassment between friends (no homo), one of the girls, named Yowai, approached me, which I looked at her with confusion.

":.. Hello"

>She had drawn a dance, like I did last time, so I stood still and watched her dance steps. Those dances... were weird, but good, I'd never seen them, I don't usually use social media so this was a new experience for me. When she finished, I excitedly started clapping my hands together, smiling.

"Very impressive, very impressive."

>And with that, everyone's introduction ended, and the Role-playing hour began. First, they gave each of us a 100-sided die... this must be important, before giving us the introduction to our first inaugural session. With the rumble of imaginary drums, she explains that our first role-playing will be dark fantasy, classic, a bit overdone nowadays, but personally, I liked it a lot, so a barely perceptible glint appeared in my eyes, and when she mentioned the game's name... Vermis, some words came out of my mouth almost unintentionally.

"(I have it)"

>At least the 3 books. The visual aesthetic, the simplicity, but functionality of that role-playing game, I liked it. I sit in one of the chairs and watch Kinoko prepare the entire setting before starting to narrate the introduction.

":........"

>I watch with complete attention and listen to her words, gradually immersing myself in this world's setting. Before I knew it, the club walls turned into ancient, mossy rock bricks, from walls destroyed by the passage of time, the floor, withered grass leaves of an infinite steppe, and the role-playing table, an old, dilapidated stone well that reflected my face in the dim water, barely illuminated by the dying sun hiding behind those dances and gray clouds.

>With my pen with different colored tips, I start filling out my character sheet >>10913 I had never been able to play a dark fantasy role before, only imagine in my mind what it would feel like, nothing more. After a while of writing and trying to make a scribble, with a crayon. When I finished my sheet, I handed it to the RollMaster.
Rolero Variscite-77481d No.10941 es
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>>10921
>According to legend, the world is crossed by an endless river called time. Men are like fish, they are unaware of the source, they ignore the mouth, and no matter how much they struggle, they can only be carried downstream. Once in a while, one jumps above the surface. During the brief arc of a jump, they contemplate a farther stretch of the riverbed before sinking back down. That is what they call predicting the future.
>Frogs do not belong to the river. They splash on its banks, jump from stone to stone, and expose their ephemeral existence to the whim of chance, believing themselves immune to the current. They are unaware of the river's destiny and precisely because of that, they are free to imagine it. Those are the roleplayers, jumping from possibility to possibility, rehearsing lives that never existed and futures that will die as soon as the dice stop rolling.

>I didn't want to be a fish, nor a frog.

>I demanded of my heart the strength of three and a half lungs
>I didn't settle for leaving my forehead damp and my face flushed from the effort. I counted them by the heap. Mornings when half a banana was enough breakfast just to get a few more minutes of practice.
>My euphonium and I shared the same breath. As long as the air was still alive inside the metal, there was no before or after. The river stopped carrying me. It was I who decided where time flowed.
>I am naive.
>My eyes widened with emotion when Voronin directed his words to the euphonium girl
>I expected a humble correction
>I fantasized about a tender compliment.
>My expectations expected a lot.
>I bit my tongue and squeezed my eyes shut, uselessly resolving not to cry
>When I came home from classes, I would leave my uniform tossed on the chair, heat water for coffee that almost always cooled down untouched, and take the euphonium out of its case. The first note was never good. Never. The metal seemed to need a few minutes to accept that it was me again.
>I worked so much and so hard for a facelift to my reputation
>My love for objects blinded me. Objects never participate in rumors.
A chair doesn't remember who sat on it.
A window doesn't develop prejudices about who opens it. It had always seemed strange to me that wind instruments worked thanks to breath. It was a very intimate way of making sound. One introduced something as vulgar as air into a pile of bent metal, and that air acquired meaning. Words did exactly the opposite. They were born full of meaning. They came out of the mouth. And ended up turned into air.
I guess that's why a melody takes years to forget and an insult barely needs enough mouths to multiply.
>Swallowing my pride, I shelved the fact and carried the instrument hugged to my chest
>I drowned my sorrows in apple juice and consoled myself with the thought of a sigma looksmaxxer redditor: if a dog barks every time a train passes, no one concludes that the train must stop to defend its honor.
>I felt empty and alone, with no one to blame or anything to torture myself with.
>I, as absurd as it sounds, believe that a desire is the only thing worth pursuing in a meaningless world.
>I always thought there was nothing worth pursuing, because I can't rationally explain why it would be worth pursuing, but why do I have to explain it? Why does it have to be rational? Logical? Possible? Is that how we should give meaning to things? Using cold logic? No. You just need an intense desire and a choice. Only by being irrational do you have a chance to achieve the irrational, because the rational would never even try it in the first place.
>I want to be someone, I'm hungry to become someone. I want to be worthy of praise, of remembrance, of serving as an example for someone, even if I never know it.
>Is that such a small longing?
>I will unfortunately find out when the music club is deserted and the only one left tuning instruments is Voronin
>I want him to see firsthand all the effort I put in these months carrying a thirty-kilo contraption
>Me and my lungs, how they conditioned themselves to the task of mutualizing with the instrument
>I waited until sunset, when the building was already yawning with emptiness and silence began to take over the hallways.
>I approached him and played for him at length
>I think it wasn't such a bad idea, because it would help him never expect me to throw dice at his eyes (which I bought in case the role-playing club was his backup plan) and immediately smash the euphonium repeatedly against his head
1d20 = 1
>I dragged him to the humanities club they rarely use to smoke marijuana and tied him up, waiting for him to regain his senses
>Voronin and I, the day we escape the river of time is today.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10942 es
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>President's note.

"Oh, vibrant creatures of this chaotic cosmos! Hear the frantic heartbeat of our shared creation: The Club Mural! It's not some sterile flat surface, no, no, no... It's a living canvas, an ephemeral altar where madness and art coexist!"

"This sanctuary belongs to each and every one of you. You are absolutely free to throw upon it your most bizarre announcements, mental rants, cosmic forms, scandalous news, forbidden invitations, juicy gossip, anonymous confessions, unspeakable secrets, hentai drawings, erotic fantasies, and any manifestation of your unleashed souls. Everything fits on this wall of paper and passion!"

"Rest assured that this mural will mutate and be reborn every month, dressed in the garments of whichever season courses through our veins."

"Therefore, little titans of curiosity, I demand—with heart in hand and a spark in my eyes—that you keep your eyes glued to the mural every single sacred day, interacting with it as often as your delirium allows. Let us feed this beast of collective expression!"

"With uncontrollable fervor and psychedelic hugs:"
Kinoko

----

>Notebook page poorly taped with adhesive tape.

"I'm Gore Predator. I'm not good with words or human interactions, so I want to get to know all of you through this small and simple test. Answer honestly and without shame—after all, nobody's judging you..."

1. A sadistic Mexican cartel kidnaps you and presents you with the ultimate dilemma: to save the life of your mother or your sister, you must record an intimate video having sex with the one you choose and make it go viral. What do you decide?
a) You fuck your mom in front of the camera with a forced smile, asking her to pose better to guarantee more likes.
b) You'd rather have both of them decapitated in high definition than tarnish your family reputation on social media.
c) You refuse, attack the hitmen, and die pathetically while screaming that you hate blood ties.

2. You discover that the only way to inherit your abusive, pedophilic grandfather's million-dollar fortune is by agreeing to spend an entire night tied to his bed while he forces you to sodomize him. What do you do?
a) You accept the checkbook, lube yourself up with baby oil, and enter the room reciting bizarre love poems.
b) You set the mansion on fire with him inside and resign yourself to living in absolute misery.
c) You steal his dentures, leave him tied up in his underwear on the street, and go spend whatever little money he has on tacos.

3. A deadly zombie virus ravages the world, and the only known cure is extracted by boiling and drinking your own sister's vaginal fluids during her period. How do you save humanity?
a) You brew a strong tea using your sister's fluids, drink it in one gulp, and applaud her patriotic sacrifice.
b) You let every inhabitant of the planet die infected and hanging from walls before committing such an act of medical incest.
c) You kidnap the neighbor girl to see if the experiment works, then lie to the bunker scientists and pretend she's your sister.

4. You're caught committing an unforgivable crime, and the judge gives you a choice: spend thirty years in a cell with serial cannibal rapists, or legally marry your dog and consummate the marriage right there in the courtroom. What do you choose?
a) You put on an elegant tuxedo, buy your dog a bridal veil, and passionately make love in front of the jury.
b) You'd rather rot in the worst prison in the state and become inmates' personal plaything than marry an animal.
c) You bribe the judge with a kilo of rotten meat to dismiss the trial and let you escape through the bathroom window.

5. At an illegal underground orgy, you're forced to choose between unprotected sex with your biological father or your 90-year-old grandmother suffering from advanced gangrene. What do you do?
a) You go for your dad while whispering in his ear how much you resemble each other intimately.
b) You'd rather cut off your dick with a rusty kitchen knife and bleed out in a dark corner.
c) You put a bag over your head, close your eyes, and sacrifice yourself to grandma while praying to the gods of vomit.

6. To prevent an atomic bomb from exploding and killing millions, you must strangle your younger brother with your bare hands while looking into his eyes and singing him a lullaby. What do you decide?
a) You strangle him without hesitation, sing off-key, and declare yourself the most ruthless national hero in history.
b) You let the bomb drop, destroy the country, and kill everyone just to keep your hands clean of family blood.
c) You try strangling the family cat in front of the bomb, believing it counts as a valid sacrifice.

7. A group of mad scientists offers you the role of stud at their human cloning farm: you must simultaneously impregnate your aunt and your cousin sister to create a superior race of abominations. How do you respond?
a) You sign the contract grinning from ear to ear and prepare for the most incestuous reproductive marathon of the century.
b) You smash their test tubes over their heads and run naked down the hallway screaming obscenities.
c) You negotiate a higher salary and ask if you can wear animal costumes during the fertilization process.

8. On her deathbed, your mother confesses that your real father is your older brother and that your existence is a biological mistake. As her final wish, she asks you to sleep with her one last time before dying. What do you do?
a) You get into the hospital bed and fulfill your mother's last wish with incestuous passion and tears in your eyes.
b) You stand up, mutter an insult at her premature grave, and storm out slamming the door.
c) You call the nurses to revive her with beatings so she'll stop asking you for perverted favors.

9. They offer you one billion dollars, but the only condition is that you must spend the rest of your life having mandatory daily sex with a close relative of your choice. What do you decide?
a) You grab the briefcase of money, sign the lifetime clause, and pick the relative in the best physical shape for the show.
b) You send the money to hell, burn the contract, and prefer to keep eating canned tuna in poverty.
c) You request a full list of all your uncles and cousins to conduct a rigorous casting before making your final decision.

"Write your answers on a separate sheet and tape it next to this on the club bulletin board. If you're not satisfied with my options, feel free to write your own answers however you prefer. Love you ♡♡♡♡"
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>>10942
-After the intense roleplaying day, Rena observed the mural, she would think of something to hang there once she was home, but she saw a sheet of paper with questions, and she wouldn't hesitate to answer-

>1. A sadistic Mexican cartel kidnaps you and presents you with the ultimate dilemma: to save your mother's or your sister's life, you must record an intimate video of yourself having sex with the one you choose and make it go viral. What do you decide?
a) You fuck your mom in front of the camera with a forced smile and ask her to pose better to ensure likes.
b) You'd rather have them both decapitated in high definition before tarnishing your family's reputation on social media.
c) You refuse, get into a fight with the sicarios, and die pathetically while screaming that you hate blood ties.

Knowing my mother and sister, I would feel sorry for the cartel, they would be begging for mercy and clemency, but if I have to answer, I choose A, mom would understand, with a simple look between my sister and me we would tell each other the whole plan, once we are both naked and holding hands about to kiss passionately, mom would have already freed herself and knocked one out, thus taking his weapon and being the perfect distraction for us to attack, basically a mix of answers A and C

>2. You discover that the only way to inherit your pedophile and abusive grandfather's millionaire fortune is to agree to spend an entire night tied to his bed while he forces you to sodomize him. What do you do?
a) You accept the checkbook, slather yourself in baby oil, and enter the room reciting poems of bizarre love.
b) You set the mansion on fire with him inside and resign yourself to living in absolute misery.
c) You steal his dentures, leave him tied up in his underwear in the street, and go spend what little he has on tacos.
Same, a mix of answers A and C, but to specify, I would put sedatives in his drink and food, so once he's asleep I can suffocate him, that is, if his heart doesn't stop on its own with the sedatives, I would make it look like natural causes

>3. A deadly zombie virus devastates the world and the only known cure is extracted by boiling and drinking your own sister's vaginal fluids during her period. How do you save humanity?
a) You brew a strong tea with your sister's fluids, chug it down in one go, and applaud her patriotic sacrifice.
b) You let every single person on the planet die infected and hanging from walls before committing such an act of medical incest.
c) You kidnap the neighbor girl to see if the experiment works and pretend she's your sister in front of the bunker scientists.

This question is complete garbage, it makes no sense and lacks logic. You're ignoring how I'd even discover the cure—suppose I perform oral sex on my sister, then I'd have to be infected first to know it's a cure, and nobody has sex with infected people. But let's assume I lie—still illogical, because you say it has to be boiled, meaning the person would already be drinking boiled vaginal fluids regardless of whether they contain menstrual blood, which I find disgusting, and your taste for Peruvian food is also disgusting, Marilyn Manson.

>4. You're caught committing an unforgivable crime and the judge gives you a choice: spend thirty years in a cell with cannibalistic serial rapists or legally marry your dog and consummate the marriage right there in the courtroom. What do you choose?
a) You put on an elegant tuxedo, buy the dog a bridal veil, and passionately make love in front of the jury.
b) You'd rather rot in the worst prison in the state and become the personal toy of inmates than marry an animal.
c) You bribe the judge with a kilo of rotten meat to dismiss the trial and let you escape through the bathroom window.
We don't have a dog, we have a pig at home, but option C is the logical answer.

>5. At an illegal underground orgy, you're forced to choose between unprotected sex with your biological father or with your 90-year-old grandmother who has advanced gangrene. What do you do?
a) You go with your dad while whispering in his ear how much you resemble him in bed.
b) You'd rather cut off your dick with a rusty kitchen knife and bleed out in the dark corner of the room.
c) You put a bag over your head, close your eyes, and sacrifice yourself with grandma while praying to the gods of vomit.
I think you're a fan of Rick and Morty fanfics, or rather, Rick x Morty fanfics—my experience on the web tells me that about you and your taste for incest... Anyway, I don't have a dick and wouldn't have sex with my father, and no, I don't have a grandmother either.

>6. To prevent an atomic bomb from exploding and killing millions, you must strangle your younger brother with your own hands while looking him in the eyes and singing him a lullaby. What do you decide?
a) You strangle him without hesitation, sing off-key, and declare yourself the most ruthless national hero in history.
b) You let the bomb drop, destroy the country, and kill everyone just to keep your hands clean of family blood.
c) You try strangling the house cat in front of the bomb, believing that counts as a valid sacrifice.
I was the youngest, although now my sister doesn't live with us anymore, but if I had to kill one of the siblings I have out there, I'd first try the cat thing—if that doesn't work, then I'd be forced to strangle my little brother. But how does the bomb work? Does it have a sensor detecting heartbeats? Is it linked to my brother's life? Or is someone holding the detonator in their hand watching us? You should elaborate your questions better.

>7. A group of mad scientists offers you the role of stud at their human cloning farm: you must simultaneously impregnate your aunt and your cousin sister to create a superior race of abominations. How do you respond?
a) You sign the contract with a grin from ear to ear and prepare for the most incestuous reproductive marathon of the century.
b) You smash their test tubes over the scientists' heads and run naked down the hallway screaming obscenities.
c) You demand to negotiate a higher salary and request permission to wear animal costumes during the fertilization process.
I repeat, I don't have a dick, but I do have a ███ ████—better scratch that out.

>8. On her deathbed, your mother confesses that your real father is actually your older brother, and that your existence is a biological mistake. As her final wish, she asks you to sleep with her one last time before she dies. What do you do?
a) You get into the hospital bed and fulfill your mother's last wish with incestuous passion and tears in your eyes.
b) You get up from the chair, read an insult on her premature grave, and storm out of the room slamming the door shut.
c) You call the nurses to beat her back to life and stop her from making perverted requests any further.
I think you're also a fan of The Loud House; C would be the most sensible answer.

>9. You're offered one billion dollars, but the only condition is that you must have mandatory daily sex with a close relative of your choice for the rest of your life. What do you decide?
a) You grab the suitcase of money, sign the lifelong clause, and pick the relative in the best physical shape for the show.
b) You send the money to hell, burn the contract, and prefer to keep eating canned tuna in poverty.
c) You ask for a list of all your uncles and cousins to conduct a rigorous casting session before making the final decision.

I don't have older siblings, as far as I know, but I'd pick C, searching for a sibling somewhere out there. Although your question lacks key instructions—can I keep the money if I quit later? If I have sex for just one week, I'd get 7 billion dollars, enough to live comfortably for years, unless it gets confiscated or I have to split half with the relative. Also, having sex every single day would be impractical for the reproductive organs; there's no way around needing rest.

I'm telling you your questions are garbage, no offense intended, I'm just giving my objective opinion. You should really work on improving. A beginner psychology and psychiatry student could come up with better, more coherent and well-founded questions than these.

And to top it all off, why only 9? Everyone knows there are always 10 questions, not 9!!!! It really bothers me that I went through answering all of this, reached the end, and found it incomplete. I could've tolerated 11 or 13 questions, even 12 not, but 9?

If you ever make another questionnaire in the future, please refrain from making such a defective one again.

-Tracing her answers, Rena posts her sheet on the bulletin board next to the one with the questions, so Marilyn Manson can read it-

I really hope you improve.
-Now she was ready to go home and plan for the next day-
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>>10923
>>10943
>A small, muffled cry of frustration was heard beside the table. Kuma began lightly banging her forehead against the wooden surface after hearing the new nickname Rena had given her. "Gordosa" had absolutely nothing sexy or erotic about it; in her mind, it sounded more like the name of a side character from Peppa Pig. Although she didn't find it offensive and even thought it was kind of cute, Kuma internally refused to be the group's adorable fat girl. She wanted to be seen as a desirable piece of meat, but she suddenly realized her seduction attempts had once again failed spectacularly.

>On the other hand, Katsumi made an uncomfortable face and let out a nervous giggle at Rena's suggestions.

Katsumi: E-Etto... Rena, I don't think you know my dad... He was the best player of the Yomiuri Giants in his day and he's purely competitive by nature. I promise it's better if I handle him myself. I don't want to get you into more trouble because of me.

>The giantess sighed, trying to calm herself down.

Katsumi: Besides, I'm sure we won't have any unexpected problems... and if we do, we won't solve them with violence, I assure you.

>She scratched her cheek shyly, revealing a blush filled with embarrassment for her earlier reaction to the cookie.

Katsumi: I'm sorry for making that face about the cookie... I don't like being rude to anyone. It's just that my favorite cookie flavor is chocmint. But really, thank you so much. You really don't need to give me anything at all.

>With that, Katsumi picked up her pencil and began focusing completely on her character sheet. For quite a while, she stopped paying attention to anything happening around her, immersing herself in drawing her character. After several minutes of meticulous work, she finished sketching a majestic knight armed with a war hammer and wearing a helmet decorated with imposing deer antlers. She decided to use the base template from "Old Glory," but applied her own changes to the name and background, proudly showing it to Rena when finished.

Katsumi: H-How does it look, Rena-chan?

<Name
Thorgar of Skellgard

<Backstory
In his youth, Thorgar was the kingdom's first shield and the undisputed champion of Skellgard's Frozen Borders. He faced legions of indescribable horrors in the dim darkness of the forests and never took a single step back; he returned victorious from every battle to protect the forgotten villages. The people he fought for hailed him as a living legend. However, when the final great catastrophe threatened the fortress, Thorgar fell in combat defending the main gate, fighting to his last breath.
Despite his heroic sacrifice, time cruelly erased his name. His loved ones forgot him, his kingdom crumbled, and the people for whom he gave his life never returned to claim his remains. Now brought back as an undead, "Old Glory" wanders, trapped in the bitter memories of a life that no longer exists. He is unable to process the betrayal of being forgotten and ceaselessly searches for a new purpose for his rotting existence, carrying only his shattered badge of honor, his war mace, and the endless pain of a past no one else remembers.

-Object: Broken insignia, a symbol of pride and memory of the past. Hammer of Oblivion.

-Ability: Witch's Tongue.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀💀
-Faith: 💀
-Willpower: 💀💀

>>10936
>GP suddenly lowered his head, clicking his tongue in frustration as he clumsily adjusted the visor of his cap. His made-up face darkened further under the dim light of the room.

Gore Predator: Tch... I'd love to go to your place on weekends, professor, but my mom would never allow it. She's been a hyper-religious fanatic ever since my dad left us for some bar slut. Today I've got to accompany her to church because they're going to display that damn wafer they pray to all day long... A complete waste of time. Not that it stops me from right now fantasizing wide awake about you, Jack-san. I imagine dragging you into a secret slaughterhouse, chaining you from the ceiling, slashing your belly open with a rusty scalpel while you're still conscious, then diving into your steaming guts and using them as lube... A truly visceral and bloody work of art.

>The youth shook his head to snap out of his morbid trance and focused on frantically scribbling across his character sheet. After several minutes of aggressive black-ink strokes, he flipped the paper around and proudly showed it to the fat master. In the upper corner stood a drawing of a deformed creature—an aberrant hybrid of man and rodent, its jaw unhinged and dangling a long, forked tongue.

Gore Predator: Do you like it, professor? Look at the sheet. Tell me the truth... did this atrocity give you a boner?

<Name
Varkag, the sewer rogue.

<Backstory:
After losing all humanity under the weight of his ancient curse, this abomination turned the depths of the underworld into his personal slaughterhouse. His misdeeds are legendary among the outcasts: he lurks at the edges of wells to snatch young children from their cribs, devouring their tender bones while they still writhe in screams of agony, violates their intestines until filled with his magical milk, and sucks out their brains as if it were the richest appetizer in the world. He knows no mercy or sanity; he drags women who venture near the grates into the black waters of the sewer, keeping them captive for days to subject them to brutal abuse, defiling their dying bodies before tearing their throats out with his teeth. He is a despicable monster who adorns the walls of his nest with the viscera and hair of his victims, an aberration that seeks not survival, but the pure pleasure of spreading terror, pestilence, and suffering in absolute darkness.

>>10940
>After the chaotic moment of dances and interactions, the club room finally delved into the true essence of the session: character creation. Bonita-chan took her pencil and adventurer sheet to begin putting her ideas on paper. As the young platinum blonde wrote intently, Kinoko watched her from a few meters away with her arms crossed over her chest. The president wore a small, proud smile on her face, as if mentally telling the rest of the group: "Look at her well... she's quite the narrative fornicator."

>As soon as Lebedeve finished filling out the sections and formally handed over the sheet, Kinoko's reaction was instantaneous and overflowing with euphoria. Her eyes behind her thick glasses shone with pure geeky enthusiasm as she read the creation's name.

Kinoko: Sacred role-playing scriptures! What a marvel you've just birthed, Bonita-chan! This is a true masterpiece of medieval oppression and misery! You've captured and respected the true essence of Vermis in an almost religious way. Look at this, everyone! Your character is absolutely rotten inside and out, a sublime aberration! It's as if Plastiboo himself had descended from heaven to write the sheet with his own hands. Without a doubt, it's one of the best sheets I've read so far this session. You've outdone yourself, my dear platinum blonde!

>Amidst the president's euphoric praise, little Hisao approached with timid, trembling steps, stretching out his bandaged arms to show her his own adventurer sheet. Kinoko took the paper gracefully, but as her eyes scanned the written lines, her euphoric expression transformed into a grimace of awkward perplexity. The raven-haired woman looked at the sheet, then at Hisao, and then back at the sheet several times consecutively.

Kinoko: Hehe... Wow, Hisao-dono... It's... very nice, really. It has... many nice details... Heh, heh...
>Let out a few nervous giggles, trying to be polite despite her face clearly showing she wasn't convinced at all by the presented concept. However, before she could add anything else to ease the atmosphere, a dark, firm hand cut through the air and snatched the sheet with a single yank. It was Valdo, the brown-skinned boy with glasses, who adjusted the bridge of his spectacles while reading the content with a critical and stern gaze. After just a few seconds of reading, Valdo wrinkled his nose in disgust and tore the character sheet apart verbally without mercy.

Valdo: This is garbage, Hisao. It's an absurdly preachy, dumb, and childish character sheet. It doesn't fit at all with the dark, ruthless, and decadent atmosphere that a setting like Vermis demands. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, it looks like a cheap, poorly made copy of the sheet Bonita-chan just handed in, but stripped of all tragedy and turned into childish fantasy.

>The dark-skinned boy wasn't saying these words with any malicious intent to upset the boy; he was simply someone extremely knowledgeable and passionate about medieval fantasy, and respected the genre so much that he couldn't tolerate such an out-of-place character sheet. Upon hearing the harsh critique, Hisao reacted immediately: he lowered his head, adopting a downcast posture with a deeply sad and disheartened expression while clenching his fists in his lap.

>He turned toward the silver-haired girl and extended Hisao's sheet for her to judge it herself.

Valdo: See it for yourself, Bonita-chan. Aren't you agreeing with me? This character sheet isn't suitable for this world. Honestly, the best thing would be for this kid to tear this up and start creating another character from scratch if he doesn't want to die within the first five minutes of gameplay.

<Cajaman, the Recycling Knight
"Once upon a time in the great Kingdom of Cereal Boxes, located right behind the living room couch, there lived a knight so very good that he was called Sir Cajaman. Since he had no money for a shiny metal armor—because metal is cold and swords are too dangerous—he cut up cardboard boxes with round-tipped scissors, put on a helmet with two little holes to see, and wore black boxing gloves to give strong hugs without hurting anyone. One day, the evil Cat-Dragon of the house threatened to eat the last chocolate chip cookie from the sacred jar, but Sir Cajaman, instead of fighting, peacefully marched up, performed a silly little dance, gave him a piece of bread, and told him that sharing was the noblest act in the universe. The cat meowed, fell asleep on his cardboard lap, and Sir Cajaman declared himself the happiest hero on planet Earth, and colorin colorado, this tale has ended!"

-Object: Cardboard armor. Sword and shield made of cardboard.

-Ability: Happy Thought – can make any enemy or ally happy.

-Strength: 💀💀💀💀💀
-Intelligence: 💀💀
-Faith:
-Willpower: 💀💀💀
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>>10944
>Katsumi: Um... Etto... Rena, I don't think you know my dad... He was the best player for the Yomiuri Giants in his day and he's a purely competitive animal. I promise it's better if I handle it myself, I don't want to get you into more trouble because of me.
I don't watch sports and he doesn't ring a bell, but if you say he's competitive I think I can handle it
>Katsumi: Besides, I'm sure we won't have any unforeseen circumstances... and if we do, we won't use violence to resolve them, I
-Rena wanted to say something, but seeing Katsumi's face she preferred to remain silent, she knew that sometimes it was better not to say anything, even though the part about not using violence seemed like senseless stupidity to her, Katsumi had already said she would help her, now she shouldn't bother her so she wouldn't back out, it's like when Rena draws and drinks her juice, she hates being bothered when that happens-
>Katsumi: Forgive me for making that face with the cookie... I don't like being rude to anyone. It's just that my favorite cookie flavor is choco-mint. But really, thank you very much, you don't need to give me anything at all.
Choco-mint....An unusual flavor, hated by many, appreciated by others, although this happens more with ice cream, on the other hand, to a lesser extent with candies, ... I don't remember seeing chocolate mint cookies other than a limited edition Oreos a few years ago when I still lived in Latam, maybe there are some here in Japan along with Kit Kats...
-Rena got lost in her thoughts for a few seconds imagining the various KitKat flavors, but her thoughts turned to cookies, chocolate and mint cookies, Katsumi had just given her a craving for some now, and she only had... ONE MOMENT!!! , Rena started searching her backpack, she knew she had to have them somewhere, when she found what she was looking for, Katsumi was already talking to her again-

>Katsumi: Wh-What do you think, Rena-chan?
-Rena flipped through the sheet, reading everything in silence while the voice of the Doom games narrator sounded in her mind-

The name is generic
-She said coldly, sharply, and dryly, while from her backpack she took out a package of mint candies that contained chocolate inside, extending her hand to offer them to Katsumi-
But that doesn't mean it's not cool
[doom]THORGAR OF SKELLGARD[/doom]

-Rena pronounced with a deep voice of an older Russian man who had smoked for over 20 years-

I like it, regarding the story, I couldn't expect less
-She said looking at Katsumi, giving her a genuine smile while still offering her a candy-
It won't be a cookie, but I hope you like it.

-While Rena tried to be gentle to see if she could form a friendship, she was unaware that under the surface she was bothering the chubby one, she didn't know her comment had upset the chubby one-
(Regarding starting the roleplay, I would like to wait for the others, unless you already have a plan to start with a campaign for each of them from a different starting point with the possibility of crossing paths, if so, you could go ahead with a General turn, although it would be good to see which characters the others pick, or know if they will continue in the roleplay, you are the OP expert, you will know)
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>>10941
>Kumiko's words echoed in the music room with a strange poetry, but the only response they received was a burst of cruel, dismissive laughter.

Leopold: But look at the cheap poetess! Are you really trying to give a reflective speech after you just got kicked in the ass? Please! It's the most pathetic and hypocritical thing I've ever heard!

Fujito: Totally! Look how she tries to sound deep while hiding how vile she is. She compares herself to instruments and air... please! If you want a real comparison that fits your true nature, why don't you compare yourself to the dirty, stinking urinal in a public train station bathroom? Yes, exactly that. A filthy container that anyone uses when desperate and then discards with disgust.

Leopold: Ha ha ha! Exactly! And she talks about breath... please! If your breath stinks of dried semen from crawling around the school hallways with anyone who talks to you. You're truly disgusting, Larplace. No one in this high school or this world will ever love you. You're disposable trash. To think you believed someone refined like Voronin would keep you around... Voronin is too good for you, a plague like you shouldn't even breathe the same air!

Fujito: Honestly, if you had a shred of dignity or shame, you'd do the whole school a favor and go to the roof and jump! Do us that favor and kill yourself already, no one would care.

>The laughter of both was venomous, but the escalation of insults was cut short when Voronin raised his hand in a cold, dry gesture, demanding absolute silence. Fujito and Leopold immediately shut their mouths, though they didn't stop mocking Kumiko behind her back, making obscene gestures and mocking signs with their fingers as she left the room.

>...

>Hours later, when the sun had completely set and the main building of Kamome High School yawned empty, a deathly silence dominated the hallways. The corridor lights were almost entirely off.

>Voronin was alone in the music room, carefully putting his prized violin in its hard case. Hearing footsteps approaching, he jumped slightly in fright, visibly startled. Turning and recognizing Kumiko's silhouette in the dim light, he let out a long sigh of annoyance and relief.

Voronin: Ah... it's you. What a scare. Hey, what the hell do you want? I clearly told you you're expelled. Stop bothering me already. I'm not changing my mind, no matter how much you strip here and give me your stinking used female reproductive organ. Get lost.

>Before he could take another step, Kumiko pulled out a pair of d20 dice and threw them directly at his face. The small plastic polyhedrons hit his forehead and cheek; they didn't hurt, but the absurd and unexpected attack completely threw him off.

Voronin: What the hell are you-

>He couldn't finish the sentence. Taking advantage of the second of distraction, Kumiko lifted her heavy tuba and delivered a tremendous, flawless blow to the crown of his head. The impact of metal against bone echoed loudly in the empty classroom, and Voronin collapsed to the floor, losing consciousness immediately.

>...

>The darkness gradually dissipated for Voronin as he began to regain consciousness. He felt a heavy head, a stinging burn on his cheek, and uncomfortable pressure on his arms and legs. When his eyes finally focused, he realized he was in the old Humanities Club room, firmly tied to a wooden chair.

>Seeing Kumiko in front of him in the dim classroom, terror wiped away all his upper-class arrogance in an instant.
Voronin: A-Ah! Kumiko! Please, I'm sorry! Please let me go, I beg you! I never believed those malicious rumors were true, I swear! It's just... I'm just under a lot of pressure from the juvenile delinquents in the gang and the disciplinary committee! They forced me to expel you! Please, don't do anything to me... You're... you're a very beautiful girl, really. If you let me go, I'll let you stay in the orchestra club! I promise you'll be first chair! But don't hurt me anymore, please!

>The young Russian begged in terror, reduced to a pathetic tear, stripped of all his supposed high-class background.

>Suddenly, the door to the old classroom burst open with a sharp bang.

>From the gloom of the hallway emerged two figures carrying wooden katanas in their hands: the feared representatives of the Student Disciplinary Committee.

>On the left advanced Ren Mizukage: a young man of refined appearance and almost effeminate androgynous features, but with a posture as rigid as that of a relentless soldier. His dark eyes seemed dead in life, lacking any trace of empathy. Walking beside him was Himawari Shion: a stunning girl with orange hair tied in two pigtails, a provocative attitude, and a modified military uniform that barely contained her prominent physical attributes.

>Seeing them, Voronin burst into tears of relief.

Voronin: A-Praise Kami-sama! Please, free me from this crazy woman! KILL HER! Take her to jail or sell her to the Harpyai network, I don't care what you do to her, but get me out of here!

>Shion let out a mocking giggle, stepping forward as she twirled her wooden katana.

Shion: Well, well~ What an entertaining spectacle. The little lamb turned into a rabid wolf. It's almost adorable.

>Ren Mizukage took two steps towards Kumiko with terrifying calm, fixing his empty gaze on her. His voice resonated inertly and monotonously, like that of a machine.
Ren: Miss Kumiko Larplace. I kindly ask you to release the young Voronin and hand him over to the committee this very instant. Should you cooperate, the sanction applicable to your record will be minimal, and you may continue attending classes without major disturbances.

Ren: However, should you oppose the committee's justice, the protocol stipulates two possible outcomes. The first: you will be thoroughly beaten by Miss Himawari and myself. And you have the misfortune that neither of us cares in the slightest about the physical integrity or lives of students... so it is extremely likely that we will go too far with you.

Shion: Ayyyy, if it were up to me, I wouldn't even ask and we'd beat you to a pulp right here~ But the committee president needs a spy within a certain useless group. A little bird told us that you were seen talking with that crazy Kinoko Ichinose... so you could be very useful to us in helping us make that filthy role-playing club disappear.

Ren: What will you do, Miss Kumiko?

The Role-Playing Club, none of this would have reached a life-or-death limit if you had decided to go to the Role-Playing Club instead of confronting or rather kidnapping Voronin... The Role-Playing Club... Kinoko Ichinose... At that moment you remember that Ichinose gave you something, a die, a special die she called THE DIE OF DESTINY, that 100-sided die was still in your pocket, Kinoko had told you to use it in life-or-death situations, in very important decisions whether inside or outside the club... It's funny, Kinoko told you that she doesn't give THE DIE OF DESTINY to just anyone, but she admitted that she liked you, so she gifted it to you as a guarantee that you would join her unforgiving club... Perhaps it's time for you to use it now.
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Non-canonical content for now made for entertainment purposes to support the creativity of the thread

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Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10948 es
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>>10945
>>10947 LOL
>Her gaze drifted for a few seconds, her eyes moving from side to side with a clear expression of doubt. She didn't seem at all convinced that Rena could "handle" her father; after all, she knew all too well how dense and stubborn he could be. Still, hiding her internal insecurity, she sketched a frank smile and let out a long sigh.

Katsumi: O-Okay... I'll leave my father to you then. I trust you.

>Without erasing that spontaneous smile, she adjusted her posture to quickly change the subject.

Katsumi: And well... it's true that Japan has some really strange flavors. I, for example, love Yakult-flavored soda and the chips that come with honey and bacon flavor, they're an incredible combination!

>Suddenly, a piece of information in the conversation seemed to ignite her curiosity immensely. She opened her huge eyes with genuine surprise.

Katsumi: You lived in Latin America?! Really?! Which country were you in?! Are you perhaps hafu?

>She let out a small, pleasant laugh as she continued to share family details.

Katsumi: You know, I "escaped" being born in Venezuela. My dad was playing for the La Guaira Sharks right when my mom was pregnant with me. In fact, Venezuela is incredibly good at baseball; not too long ago they won a World Series, although, well... you have to admit it's that World Series that hardly anyone cares much about... Heh...

>She let out a childish giggle and shifted uncomfortably in her seat again. Her disproportionate physique didn't fit in the fragile plastic chair, and her enormous butt quickly got tired. Taking advantage of a moment of carelessness, she discreetly slipped her hand behind her pants to adjust her thong that had gotten stuck between her cheeks.

Katsumi: Uff... the truth is, I know almost nothing about the fantasy genre. I barely managed to watch The Lord of the Rings movies, and that was only because some cousins invited me out of pure pity. That's why my character's name is so generic... I'm sorry...

>A slight blush tinged the amazon's pale cheeks, and she gave Rena one of her sweetest and most sincere smiles.

Katsumi: Thank you so much for your words about my character sheet, Rena-chan. It means a lot to me.

>With complete gratitude, she accepted the candy Rena was offering her. She took it with the tip of her thick fingers and put it in her mouth, enjoying the sweetness instantly. Taking advantage of the warm and trusting atmosphere that had been created between them, Katsumi decided to open up emotionally, at least a little.

Katsumi: You know... I used to see you as very quiet in class. You were always there, in your own world, and to be honest, you seemed quite scary to me. But now I realize I was a complete fool for judging you wrongly without knowing you. You're a really good girl, very kind and extremely adorable.

>The giant stared at her with genuine fascination, analyzing the girl's delicate features.

Katsumi: I mean... just look at you. You have that beautiful short purplish hair, those gigantic brown eyes full of sparkle behind your round glasses... you look like a little angel or the protagonist of a cute anime! I really don't understand how someone could have a heart so rotten as to want to hit you or hurt you...

>She cupped her cheeks with her hands, savoring the candy like a happy little girl.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10949 es
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>A pink sheet with a floral border next to a small poster printed with fresh ink.

"Hello everyone in the Role-Playing Club!"

"I'm Sayuri Yowai. To be completely honest, I don't understand almost anything about role-playing games, twenty-sided dice, or very nerdy stuff... but I liked the group and well, here I am. My thing, my real thing, is cinema. I literally spend almost every day in an abandoned building near my house with my old projector, watching movie after movie until my eyes dry out. And I thought that, since I have this somewhat strange but nice obsession, I could use this space on the bulletin board to recommend some gems and talk about them with anyone who wants to stop by and comment. I love talking about movies, so if anyone is interested, the door to my hideout is always open."

"So anyway, I wanted to inaugurate my space on the bulletin board with a pretty crazy, colorful, but super dense film. Today I want to recommend..."

"Antiporno by Sion Sono"

"To give you a quick idea of what it's about: the story follows Kyoko, a young, brilliant, and very famous girl who works as a writer and artist. She lives in a huge apartment that looks like a hallucination full of garish colors. Kyoko spends her time belittling, humiliating, and psychologically abusing her assistant, Noriko, asking her for impossible things. So far, it seems like the typical story of a capricious and tyrannical celebrity, right? But suddenly, the movie takes a turn where the roles completely invert, the walls literally fall down, and you realize that nothing you're seeing is what it seems. It turns out it's all a film set within another film set, and the power dynamic suddenly changes."
"Now, if we get a little more analytical in terms of cinema and narrative, the film is an absolute masterpiece. Sion Sono made it as part of Nikkatsu's "Roman Porno" project —which was basically reviving a Japanese erotic genre with very strict budget rules and nude scenes every so often— but Sono did whatever he wanted and mocked the genre. Narratively, it breaks the fourth wall in a way that blows your mind. He uses meta-narrative to dismantle the illusion of cinema. Sono's camera is hyperactive, but at the same time it traps the characters; he uses claustrophobic framing despite the bright, yellow colors that flood the screen. The production design is practically a theatrical conceptual art piece, where color isn't just decoration, it's pure manipulation."

"On a personal level, what captivates me most about Antiporno is how it exposes the crushing pressure of being a woman in current Japanese society. I mean, think about it: in Japan there's a silent but very harsh expectation about how a woman 'should' behave, how she should look, be docile, fit into the male fantasy or social norms. The film talks about that in a super raw and honest way, showing how society tries to pigeonhole you, objectify you, and control your identity until you go crazy, but it does so without falling into those preachy discourses or the condescending nonsense of commercial internet feminism that can be a bit boring sometimes. Sono doesn't give you a moral sermon or tell you what to think; instead, he throws trauma, frustration, the role of victim and perpetrator in your face, and shows you oppression through art, visual pain, and absurdity. It's a pure critique of the voyeuristic male gaze and social judgment, but told like a psychedelic delirium."

"Anyway, I won't bore you any longer, if you let me I'll keep talking to myself all day. Give yourselves a chance to watch it if you can handle weird movies with a different pace. If you watch it and want to discuss it or just tell me it was too trippy, look for me. See you around here!"

"Take a picture of the link to the movie, you can watch it here for free and pirated: https://ok.ru/video/9486484638261 :D"

Sayuri
Bibi Marialite-eaba11 No.10950 es
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>>10903
I have to answer something besides what they answered me here
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10951 es
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>>10950
Bibi Marialite-eaba11 No.10952 es
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>>10912
<Magic borrows energy from the universe, but that explanation is somewhat archaic, real magic breaks the laws of the universe and bends them to its will...

>You squint, trying to understand your great logic, were you a great witch in secret?

<Besides, aren't staffs and wands for that? condensing magic into objects and skipping some steps.

“There I have to stop you, although slow, they allow you to have magic stored and use it later, as well as being able to use them as traps and the like, although wands and staffs are magic conduits, runes allow you versatile uses.”

>Seeing the scene from The Simpsons, he is very surprised, opening his eyes.

“You are a very ambitious girl Rena-chan, it will be a difficult path, but anything can be achieved with effort and dedication, although you can always cheat, you know, like Madara getting Hashirama's cells, but don't worry, I will support you in everything you need, after all, I must protect this planet left in my care.”

<Damn...

>He moves his cape epically and magically pulls out a bottle of water from behind it and gives it to you.

“Do not fear, I am interested in your intentions, I will support you in your research to achieve it, two wise witches think better than one, so do not fear… That said, you will probably need a wand, it is very complex magic you want to do.”

>He gives you some pats on the back to encourage you and show you not to worry.

“I like hearing people talk about the things they like, seeing the happy eyes on people's faces is magic too.”

>>10916
<Many enjoy comparing me to a pig

“You could become a millionaire looking for truffles, why do you work in a school putting up with brats like us?”

>132367
Bibi's cheeks turn red, and she laughs a little.

“Don't worry Hotaru-chan, it was an accident, those things happen, besides, you forgot they are strawberry flavored, I don't mind if it's you, I know you're not a pervert.”
>He ruffles the girl's hair with a somewhat nervous smile.
<Emperor of Warhammer or King Aegon the Conqueror

"Yep, they're really scary, they look like them, their aura is relentless, compared to Genghis Khan."

>She doesn't know whether to say it with pride or fear.

<Would you like us to be friends? And I would love for you to teach me a couple of your spells to become a mage as cool as you.

>He fist bumps with a big smile while nodding.

"Whenever you want I'll teach you whatever you want, we could go out with Hotaru to see a movie or things friends do... Well, I don't know much about that, sometimes I go get ice cream with Hotaru."

<No evil shall prevail under my watch!

"Jojojo, I'm sure not, noble knight, we are 3 strong ladies and one great knight, surely the bards will sing glories about us."

>>10906
<The lore explainer videos on YouTube at three in the morning.

"How did he know I like watching 3-hour lore videos on YouTube?"

>She said fearfully, hugging Hotaru and her new friend tightly.



<You have exactly 15 minutes from now to choose a pre-made character sheet or create your own character on the blank sheet.

>Bibi stares at everything for a long time, very confused, not knowing what to do, delaying everyone, she swallows and scratches her head, roleplaying was very difficult.

>After boring everyone, she gets up and dictates her path.

"I WILL BE BIBI, THE PROPHET AND I WILL RETURN MY GOD TO HIS GRAND SPLENDOR"

>She bit her pride hard, she couldn't choose to be a mage because Rena had already taken that from her, and the team would be very unbalanced, but the sheet says she can do magic, so she'll take advantage of it.

"My God will be a God of magic, so I can use it, right? Anyway, it's not like he can tell me no, I'm his last believer, he should give me full stats, I'll be like Percy Jackson"
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10953 es
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>>10944
Later I'll send the full turn and answer everything, but I'll leave this part, then delete it and put it in the real turn
I was looking at the bandage's character sheet with latent emotion in my eyes, until a voice interrupts my fantasies, a voice that was spouting a string of nonsense, and for the first time that day, my brow furrows.

<Do you disagree with me?
"No."

>Dry and blunt. I lift my gaze from the sheet and observe Valdo for a few seconds, completely serious.

"I do not agree with you at all."

"In fact, I think you're misunderstanding what it means to make a character."

>I look at Hisao's sheet again.

"Yes. It's 'saintly'."

"He'll be childish, excessively happy. His name is ridiculous, the armor is ridiculous, the sword is ridiculous, and the ability would probably be completely absurd in a serious campaign, or whatever you want to call it."

"And that's precisely why I like it."

>I slowly run my finger over the sheet, re-reading some details.

"This has something that many sheets don't have."

"Soul."

"Hisao didn't try to write what he thought you wanted to read. He didn't try to make a dark character because the setting is dark. He didn't try to invent a five-hundred-page tragedy to seem deep. He didn't try to make the most powerful warrior, the most tormented orphan, or the most interesting anti-hero."

"He wrote about a knight made of cereal boxes."

>I lift the sheet slightly.

"A knight who uses boxes because he doesn't have money for armor."

"Who uses boxing gloves to hug his enemies."

"Who faces a cat-dragon by giving it bread."

"And who ends up happy."

>I pause briefly.

"That's much more personal than making a generic character that fits perfectly into the setting."

"Do you know what the problem is with saying this 'doesn't work for this world'?"

"You're confusing the world with imagination. You're focusing on 'The' as a narrator, and not on his perspective of seeing things."
"The setting can be dark. The world can be decadent. Characters can die. There can be hunger, violence, disease, wars, and monsters."

"And?"

"Why does everyone have to react to that in the same way?"

"If the world is dark, why can't there be someone who refuses to be?"

"Didn't you think that maybe that's how his character sees this tormented world? Similar to TF2's Pyro? No, because you have no imagination"

"That makes it even more interesting, more than a 'raping rat' or 'Jorge MC Jorge', in a world of jorgitos, the abnormal, the truly 'dark' or 'lunatic' that is scary, would actually be a character like that"

"If everyone is desperate, why can't there be a character who remains happy?"

"If everything is rotten, why does the only valid response have to be rotten too?"

>I hand the token back to Hisao, very carefully.

"And there's something else."

"I think you're too worried about not looking ridiculous."

>I look directly at Valdo.

"Are you embarrassed that someone is roleplaying maxim?"

"Why?"

"We're in a roleplaying club."

"We literally came here to pretend to be people we're not."

"We're going to sit around a table and pretend to be knights, wizards, peasants, monsters, and emperors while rolling plastic dice to decide if we manage to open a door."

"And now there's a right way to be ridiculous?"

>I pause for a few seconds.

"If you want to play a character, you have to commit to them."

"A lot."

"More than seems reasonable."

"Because if you're constantly thinking 'this is too ridiculous', 'this is too cringe', 'what will others think', then you're never playing the character. You're playing a person trying to look interesting while playing the character."

"And that's much more fake."

>I point to Cajaman again.

"This, on the other hand, is authentic."

"It has E S S E N C E"

"Hisao wrote what he wanted to write."

"And yes, probably some people are going to laugh."

"So what?"

"Who are those people?"
"What have they created?"

"What have they attempted?"

"What did they do with their imagination while they were worried about not looking ridiculous?"

"At least Hisao tried."

>My expression remains completely serious.

"There's something I learned a long time ago."

"When you accept that you're ridiculous, you're freed from having to prove you're not."

"You can be weird. You can be cheesy. You can be cringe."

"And then you can be yourself."

"Because trying not to look cringe all the time also ends up being a form of falsehood."

>I pause.

"I prefer someone who says 'my character is a cereal box knight who makes his enemies happy' and says it sincerely, over someone who builds the darkest, most tragic, and brutal warrior in the world just because they think it'll make them look smart."

"An authentic person can do something ridiculous."

"A person trying to look authentic cannot."

>My gaze drops to the character sheet.

"And besides..."

"Why do you say it's a cheap copy of my character?"

>I look up at Valdo.

"Because both have a story?"

"Because both have some kind of tragedy?"

"Because both are human?"

"Because both have a skill?"

"I don't understand your statement, did you even read my sheet?"

"If we follow that logic, then all our characters are copies of someone."

"Or does my character have a monopoly on the 'Edgy Lord darkfantasy'?"

"Blegh"

>I think for a moment.

"And you say my sheet is better."

"I don't agree."

"My sheet is worse than his."

"If you analyze it, my sheet is less dedicated, more of a copy. What differentiates my sheet from a pre-selectable character from vermis? As the club leader said, it could easily pass for something Plastiboo made."

"It's not original, it's not innovative, it's not personal."

"It's just somewhat detailed, written, and the character probably works better within the setting (and that shows how bland it is)."

"That's all."

"But his has something mine doesn't."

"Soul."

"And it's completely his."

>I point to Hisao.
"He wrote it because he wanted to write it."

"That counts for more."

"One can build a perfect character. With a backstory made of lines of pretentious dialogue"

"But if I don't want to be that character, then it's not much use."

>I tap the sheet lightly with my finger.

"This character wants to be Cardboard Man."

"And I think that's a lot more important."

"So no."

"I'm not going to tell him to redo it."

"In fact, I want to see him play it."

"I want to see what happens when we put this cardboard gentleman into a horrible world."

"I want to see what he does when a monster shows up that wants to kill him."

"I want to see if he tries to hug it."

"I want to see if he can actually make anyone happy."

"And I want to see what happens when someone makes fun of him."

>I fall silent for a moment.

"Because that's where the real roleplaying begins."

"When you stop worrying about how your character looks from the outside and start asking who they are on the inside."

>I finally look at Hisao.

"Your sheet is good."

"It's ridiculous."

"It's cheesy."

"It's childish."

"And it has a whole lot of soul."

"Please don't change it so other people can be less uncomfortable reading it."

>Then I turn my gaze back to Valdo.

"And you don't need to be less cringe."

"You need to LARP more."

"A lot more."

"Because there's no shame in playing."

"If you're going to pretend to be someone else, really pretend."

"At the end of the day people will laugh at you for doing it or for not doing it."

"So what?"

"They aren't playing."

"You are."

>I shrug slightly.

"I'd rather that."

"So yes."

"Recycle Man is a good character."

"And if he turns out to be the most ridiculous character in the entire campaign, perfect."

"At least he'll be ridiculous being himself."

>I pause and look around the room.

"We're in a roleplaying club, aren't we?"

"If you don't get that..."

>I look back at Valdo, completely serious.

"...I honestly don't even understand what you're doing here in the first place.''"
Bibi Marialite-eaba11 No.10954 es
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>>10942
>1. You are kidnapped by a sadistic Mexican cartel and put up against the ultimate dilemma: to save your mother's life or your sister's, you must record an intimate relationship video with the one you choose and make it go viral. What do you decide?

See my dear president, my mother is an amazon and my father a conquistador, both of them had me exclusively to create a link in this planet to conquer, and although we are not that close, I couldn't take my mother, maybe one of my thousands of half-sisters? Perhaps, but I refuse that, so I would simply use my magic to cut the necks of all the cartel members.

>2. You discover that the only way to inherit your perverted and abusive grandfather's million-dollar fortune is to accept spending an entire night tied to his bed while he forces you to sodomize him. What do you do?

I copy the answer from Rena-chan >>10943, maybe I could use her insulin and give her a lot, so she receives her divine punishment.

>3. A deadly zombie virus ravages the world and the only known cure is extracted by boiling and drinking the vaginal fluids of your own sister during her period. How do you save humanity?

It's obvious that the vaginal fluids of one of my sisters can do that, but I suppose I would create a machine to extract it, like in those videos that obviously I don't watch where a dildo moves automatically, it's not like I care too much, so I'll leave her locked up producing it and selling it to scientists, I'd rather stay alive.

>4. You are caught committing an unforgivable crime and the judge gives you the choice between thirty years in a cell with serial cannibalistic rapists or legally marrying your dog and consummating the marriage in the middle of the courtroom. What do you choose?

I'm not that white to do the A, so definitely I can bribe the judge.

>5. At a clandestine and illegal orgy, you are forced to choose between having unprotected sex with your biological father or with your ninety-year-old grandmother with advanced gangrene. What do you do?

Do I have a cock? Or if I do? Who knows, who knows, it's a mystery that you will never discover, no matter how much I use the "She" you will never know if I'm a girl or a boy in reality.

>6. To prevent an atomic bomb from exploding that will kill millions, you must strangle your younger brother with your own hands while looking him in the eyes and singing a lullaby. What do you decide?

I first do option C and then the A, I think my brother will accept it to save lives, equally my father always asks us to compete against each other to inherit the space empire he builds.

>7. A group of crazy scientists offers you to be the stud of their human cloning farm: you must impregnate your aunt and your cousin sister simultaneously to create a superior race of offspring. What do you respond?

I destroy the test tubes, my aunts and cousins are horrible, I can't allow my perfect genes to mix with them.

>8. Your mother confesses to you on her deathbed that your real father is your own older brother and that your existence is a biological mistake. As her final wish, she asks you to sleep with her one last time before she dies. What do you do?

I take her out of her suffering because she is already delirious, obviously I will cry while doing it but it's necessary.

>9. You are offered billions of dollars, but the only condition is that you must live the rest of your life forced to have daily and mandatory sexual relations with a relative of your choice. What do you decide?

I accept, billions of dollars make me do everything above combined, I'm very greedy my dear Ichonose-senpai.

I recommend something that I really liked when I was very little, "Los Sin Kids" surely you'll love it Ichonose-senpai.
Rena chan Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10955 es
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>>10948
>Katsumi: O-Okay... I'll leave my father to you then. I trust you.
domo arigato gozaimasu
-Rena replied, bowing her head slightly-
>Katsumi: And well... it's true that Japan has extremely strange flavors. I, for example, love Yakult-flavored soda and chips that come in honey and bacon flavor, they're an incredible combination!
mmmmm, I like Coffee, and things that taste like coffee, coffee candies, coffee cookies, coffee soda, chocotorta with coffee, coffee with coffee, coffee milkshake
-And Rena kept naming more coffee-derived things https://youtu.be/y5GcUnc9juo?si=MHbghQQYXUGNGovf -
...oh, and coffee jelly
-As she said this, anime music started playing, it seemed like naming coffee jelly caused this paranormal event??? https://youtu.be/4GNTfA-seHY?si=gcQDX117BfSipCrF -

Excuse me, it's my alarm, I have to take my pills
-Rena took a small bottle of antidepressants out of her backpack, grabbed a pill between two crackers, and put them in her mouth, starting to chew and talk with her mouth full-
ñam ñam, but I also like bacon flavored pampas

>Katsumi: You lived in Latin America?! Really?! Which country were you in?! Are you perhaps hafu?
-After swallowing, Katsumi asked Rena about her past. Rena took off her glasses for a moment and started taking little bites from the tip of one of the legs-

I was born in South America, in what could be called Argentina I'm not sure if countries still exist as such, you explain that OP, I read something about a confederation before, right? we lived there until I was 5 or 6, then the problems started and we began to move all over the continent with dad, mom had already returned to Japan to establish bases and while she got money, we lived with him for a few years, although he was never there and we basically went from boarding school to boarding school with my sister, she particularly has a taste for Mexico, I hated that place
-Rena frowned, remembering her stay in that place with bitterness, and at school
https://youtu.be/xmTPmRBo-c0?si=nya8V3qg_rWvhfZO (something like that) -
....The only good thing they have is this -she said, taking out her cell phone and showing a video-
https://youtu.be/jNOJD2gNN_s?si=m6myMxeab2xpmDZwI like Dr. Simi, he reminds me of Eggman's grandfather, but well, without wanting to destroy the world

>Katsumi: You know, I "escaped" being born in Venezuela. My dad was playing for the Tiburones de La Guaira just when my mom was pregnant with me. In fact, Venezuela is incredibly good at baseball; not long ago they won a World Series, although well... we have to admit it's a World Series that hardly anyone cares much about... Heh...
Venezuela... we were there, for a short time, although we didn't leave the hotel, since everything outside was...
-Rena searched for the exact words to describe everything-
It was... like a favela, like a slum, but the whole, the whole country, at least at the hotel I made a friend, she currently lives in Panama, although we lost contact..... I suppose from what you say your father is from that place, I'm sorry if saying it was a big favela could have hurt your feelings or generational national pride
-Rena bowed slightly as she apologized, that was the Japanese standard, but manners, those came from home, they taught her to show respect above all else-
I don't know anything about Baseball, I don't like sports, except fishing, but if baseball is at least famous there and here, fishing is more niche, about the World Cup, don't they kick Japan's ass? I think that's an achievement if you live in this country, to say your home country wins, but as I said, I don't know anything, only that the best baseball movie is "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys".... if you want I can watch you play
-she wouldn't mind watching a whole game to learn, besides, she was interested in seeing how well the giant played-

>Katsumi: Uff... the truth is I know almost nothing about the fantasy genre. With great difficulty I watched The Lord of the Rings movies, and that only because some cousins invited me out of pity. That's why my character's name is so generic... I'm sorry...
-High-functioning autism-

I invite you to watch them, I have the complete trilogy on DVD and Blu-ray, but it would be best if you read the books, purists hated the movies when they came out because they had many changes, which not everyone knows, like the appearance of a guy who is basically God, or the ending where the final battle is in the Shire, cutting out all the epicness, if you want I can lend you some copies I have, although we could go to the library to see if they have some. and for The Hobbit, just watch the first one, the others completely ruined the book, and it's my favorite, more than The Lord of the Rings trilogy, from a short book they could only make 2 movies, everything they put in was ugly and if they wanted to make it a trilogy, The Battle of the Five Armies should have been that, a 3-hour movie of pure war, with 45 minutes of Return to the Shire and that's it
-The contrast between the stoic Rena and the excited Rena was noticeable, when she talks about things she likes she can seem like a normal girl, and even an expert on the subject, she gives off the air that you can't contradict her because she genuinely knows what she's talking about-
I invite you to my house to watch it on the plasma, although
-Rena turns to look at the half-open door of the club, noticing how it slowly closes-
Maybe we could have a movie night here, this building is big, I'll suggest it to the president later, it could be a sleepover night

>Katsumi: Thank you very much for your words about my character sheet, Rena-chan. It means a lot to me.
You're welcome, I just gave my opinion
>Katsumi: You know... before, I used to see you as very quiet in class. You were always there, in your own world, and to be honest, you seemed quite scary. But now I realize I was a complete fool for judging you wrongly without knowing you. You're a really good girl, very kind, and extremely adorable.

....Well, classes just started recently I think, there you confirm your OP, for me they've had at most 3 weeks, I figured since I was new to the school that scenario would happen, it was good that no one bothered me, but feeling alone is something that bothered me, that's why I thought about joining a club, but seeing the type of people who frequented those places my spirits and hopes fell, it wasn't until I saw the flyer for the role-playing club that I had a 1% chance of hope, if I had been rejected.....does Columbine High School sound familiar?
https://youtu.be/9QhZVznEmXc?si=0ZCoVVazUNK-L2-x-Rena was saying this in her typical serious way of speaking, but the blush on her face was noticeable for being called extremely adorable, although now for Katsumi there was surely a duality between a quiet and adorable autistic girl and someone who was 2 steps away from starting a school shooting-

>Katsumi: I mean... just look at you. You have that short, beautiful purplish hair, those gigantic brown eyes full of sparkle behind your round glasses... you look like a little angel or the protagonist of a cute anime! I really don't understand how someone could have a heart so rotten as to want to hit you or hurt you...
....
-ERROR 404, Brain stopped working, restarting...Rena swallowed and turned pale for a few moments, she didn't know what to answer first or how to react-

I...ahem....firstly, I don't know, no one bothered me until now since classes started, today's event did take me by surprise, I let my guard down and I can't forgive myself for that, but well, those girls called me to the bathroom asking for help, that's when they ambushed me, seriously, if you know their names please tell me...and about the other thing...

-Rena shakes her head while closing her eyes-
Did you call me beautiful? I don't think so... only beautiful people like angels can be beautiful, like Her -points to Bonita chan- Look at her, she's beautiful for having natural beauty, on the other hand, she -points to Seika- is similar, but she wears makeup, she has a plastic layer on top, one has angelic beauty, and the other just looks like it, then there are those two -points to Yowai and Hisao- they are cute, the cutest here, I could look at them for hours without getting tired, they are the type of people you see on the train and they make you smile, beautiful people, -Rena points to Kinoko- the president is similar, you can tell she has a good figure, but she's unkempt and her body odor isn't the best, maybe with some adjustments she could look pretty, or sexy by whatever standards one prefers, she's a pervert, so it depends on the type of lingerie she might wear that would change the standards, so I'll summarize that she has natural but hidden beauty, still, just for her figure, she's an attractive person, something similar with him -points to John- He's not ugly, you could even consider him handsome, but he doesn't stand out much, and he's blonde, his hairstyle is fine, he and the president fall under the category of just being cute... the fat one -says pointing to Kuma- is fat, and has adorable features -Rena was once again giving a compliment to Kuma, without knowing it was the opposite of what the fat one wanted- she'd look good in a teddy bear pajama... he -points to Chemelier- is a ball with legs, he looks older than he appears... but, -Rena turns her head like a confused dog- if you look at him from a certain angle, he can be somewhat adorable for being spherical, something that -points to Master Jack- He lacks, He is ugly, fat with a double chin, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he's not attractive to a certain type of person, my father used to tell my sister and me to watch out for fat people, because they're the ones who fuck the most, and honestly, it's something I can confirm from my years living in Latam, seeing how fat guys had cute and beautiful girlfriends, although, here in Japan it's similar, there's even a hentai genre for it, right? so those two have their beauty, they -points to Hotaru and Bibi- they are cute, but more so than the president and John, they are cute with attractive potential, the loli and Red are cute in base mode and that's how it should stay, he -points to GP- , at first glance he might seem weird to you, but if you analyze him well, he's handsome by gothic standards, and I'm not talking about girls who just wear black and have big asses, but about real goths who wear a lot of makeup and wigs and extravagant outfits, and finally him -points to Valdo- ....he's black, he's handsome, and he's black

I consider myself minimally cute, like the loli or Red, maybe a little less than them, I can tolerate that my behavior and appearance are adorable to you -she says, blushing again-
but...if you say I'm like an angel...then....
-she was getting redder and more nervous, struggling to finish the sentence-
a-a-am I b-beautiful?, because y-you are beautiful
-She could say what she thought, give compliments in her own way, but outside of her mother, it was the first time someone had called her beautiful, even if not with those words, the fact of associating beauty with angels was enough for Rena, but she needed confirmation to be sure-
>>10949
Rena's note:
You should organize a movie night with the president, bring your projector and watch one or two movies per night, after watching them, analyze them together and get ideas for roles
Rena chan Enstatite-d9dc07 No.10956 es
>>10952
>“I have to stop you there, although they are slow, they allow you to have stored magic and use it later, as well as being able to use them as traps and the like, although wands and staffs are magic conduits, runes allow you versatile uses.”
-Rena snaps her fingers-
Good point, think of them as military traps, grenades, or buried landmines, but they are magical runes, like Naruto's paper bombs. I don't deny the effectiveness of such tactics, but I see it more for defending a fortress, of course, first you have to cast like 20 protective barriers around the area... hmmm a character who can only use rune magic without being able to summon... you've given me an idea for a Rambo or Solid Snake type character, but with magical artifacts.

>“You are a very ambitious girl Rena-chan, it will be a difficult path, but everything can be achieved with effort and dedication, although you can always cheat, you know, like Madara getting Hashirama's cells, but don't worry, I will support you in everything you need, after all, I must protect this planet left in my care.”
-Rena's eyes shine for a few moments after the words of support, she quickly puts another video on her phone-
We can focus on psychic training to strengthen the mind and think about spells better and faster
-The video shows one of the greatest psychic battles of all time, far exceeding the feats of the famous Reigen-
https://youtu.be/22Tj_l4PcPs?si=DDTCqR_L7Z52BBSD
>“Don't be afraid, I'm interested in your intentions, I will support you in your research to achieve it, two wise mages think better than one, so don't be afraid... That said, you will probably need a wand, it's very complex magic you want to do.”
I think that will be for the best to start, I need a suit, and a wand, when I get home I will look for fabric and metal

>“I like hearing people talk about the things they like, seeing the happy eyes on people's faces is magic too.”
-Rena nods with a smile as she takes Bibi's hand to shake it, a friendship has been born, a sisterhood, a small coven-

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El gordo Rainbow Pyrite-ae9b51 No.10957 es
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>>10944

Kuma... Overdoing it makes you lose points, you have your audience, it's just that Rena isn't part of it. Of course, both you and the rest are always free to enter my market whenever you want ;)

>After observing Kuma's multiple failures at being morbose, the professor raises his voice to get his attention. Identifying the target audience you should aim for is crucial when "selling" your body. Even the fat guy knows very well who to harass and who not to. Although in his case, that difference only means there are people he harasses more and people he harasses less, since his mere presence is considered sexual harassment anywhere. Winking one eye, the fat guy invited both Kuma and anyone else to try anything they wanted on him.

<I'd love to be able to go to your place on weekends

Place? Oh no, no, no, no, that's not going to happen. GP, being treated like a pig in a slaughterhouse by you is one thing, but bringing you home is something else entirely. We're not that close for stuff like that.

>Nervously, Jack shook his head at high speed. The folds of fat on his face were whipped back and forth repeatedly, producing an audible plap, plap as they slapped against each other.
>Just like his identity, the fat guy's house was a very well-kept secret. Not even the board of directors has been able to locate his residence, if he even has one. Any attempt to follow him after class to find his home only ends in dead-end alleys and dead ends. At best, you might catch the fat guy sleeping on garbage bags or in some sleazy motel.
>Because of that, any possible "extracurricular activity" Jack might have with a student or another teacher always takes place within the school or in some remote location like a train station bathroom or a love hotel.

<A complete waste of time

Oh come on, church isn't that bad. All those stories about moral decay—like how David cut off 200 foreskins to give to the king, or how God sent bears to kill some kids—should help spark some ideas. Even if your church ignores those parts, you can still find pleasure in the daily acts of cannibalism carried out by drinking and eating the blood and body of the savior.
<Did seeing such an atrocity give him an erection?

GP, I'm always erect. It'd be faster to list the things that don't give me an erection rather than the ones that do. About your character sheet... I'd only change one thing in this part: "violates his intestines until they're filled with his magical milk." I feel like the word "magical" breaks the visceral tone the rest of the sheet has. Especially when you pair it with the euphemism "milk." It sounds way too innocent compared to everything else.

>Kicking his chair back, the fat man revealed his erection, which had until now been hidden beneath his bloated belly.
>Settling back into place, the professor took GP's sheet and began analyzing it. As expected from someone in his line of work, Jack paid more attention to the spelling and grammatical errors than to the actual content. Correcting that "hastsa" and that "apertivio," while simultaneously telling GP not to disrupt the story's tone with ill-fitting words.

>>10952

His voice takes on a disgusting inflection, as if he's drooling while saying it. Not content with just sounding creepy, the professor makes the situation even more uncomfortable by placing his two large hands on the little student's shoulders. He massages them for a moment, then pulls away as if nothing happened.

>>10953

Can I say something? I understand Bonita-chan's point about letting Hisao express himself however he likes. However, I think Valdo also has a point about the character slightly breaking the world's aesthetic.
Oh, and I'm not talking about solving things with hugs and affection! I'm referring to the cereal boxes. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think those exist in this world. It'd be more fitting if instead of those, he carried around a plush armor or something similar. Though of course... in the end, it's up to Ichinose to decide whether it's valid or not.

>Raising his hand to speak, Jack tried to mediate between the two positions. Attempting to preserve the childish charm of Hisao's character, while also making his existence in this world feel more believable. After sharing his viewpoint, the fat man fell silent and turned his gaze toward Ichinose, who as gamemaster holds the final say in this discussion.

I'll respond to the board stuff after watching the movie
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>Me and my big mouth forgot the verdetext speaking aloud and externalized everything I thought deep inside
>I begged the earth to swallow me and, soaked in tears, ran to the old cleaning supplies warehouse—the place even the janitor himself doesn't use
>I borrowed a few things. I set an experiment in motion. Not a kidnapping. Kidnappings aim to get something from someone. I only wanted to get an answer. From whom? For what? From the universe?
>Me and Voronin later shared the intimacy of a room; the sly bastard didn't resist bondage, and I silenced his cries of pleasure by stuffing his mouth with the thong and tampon aged since morning
This is wrong, so wrong! None of this is true
>I repeated myself, confused. Why did I tie up the Russian in the first place?
>Me, why
>Me, I don't know, I'm charitable toward what's amusing
>I am loving and will wrap the poor, lonely Voronin in affection
>I am larplace Kumiko
>As long as someone named Kumiko exists, the river of time will find a way to force her to resemble Kumiko
>I digress and filter the dictatorial presence of the river. It forces people to act rehearsed and participate in predetermined activities
>I concluded that the only way to escape the flow of time is to erase the people sustaining hundreds of scenes. By definition, that's a side character. Why are they secondary? They're the forgettable characters who hold together the bridges between one scene and the next. They're the invisible nails keeping the stage intact. Nobody remembers their names, which is why the world can rest upon them without anyone suspecting
>Me and Voronin will escape the flow of time today
>I don't fail, and if I do, failure doesn't refute a theory. It only reveals that the variables were too small. If Voronin vanishes and the river continues indifferent, it will mean he never occupied a position capable of distorting its course
>I startled when a slamming door announced two stowaways. More surprised by their punctuality than their untimely presence
>I didn't hesitate—the river of time wants to stop me and uses other people as its immune system
Awa, this is a terrible TERRIBLE misunderstanding, Voronin and I are dating, come on come on, explain everything Voronin
>I think drowning in menstrual blood won't contribute much
>I subdued the emotions in my eyes. After a few blinks, no one was left staring through them.
>I didn't even bother to speak. Luckily the talking tits were talkative enough that, right by the fifth-floor window, she kicked Voronin into the void with a spartan kick
>This entire world has the combined intelligence of a peanut. Including you, including me—fortunately.
>If I were in the mood, I'd make Kumiko say some nonsense just to be a smartass: "Suicide pact, just like in my anime! ewe"
>I review the counterarguments: if I surrender, I end up crippled in the hospital, and if I don't, I'm left to the mercy of whatever the disciplinary committee and their mob roleplay decide
>My will to escape is stronger than that
>The river doesn't fear failure. It fears the unpredictable. That's why it punishes any decision it can't incorporate into the story.
Oopsssy
>I deeply regretted from the bottom of my soul that Voronin ended up as a pancake
>I realized my classmates didn't share the sentiment, so I helped Titties with a water spray, aiming it at her face and, ironically, at her tits
>I think water's never killed anyone except the black guy writing this, so I go to the janitor's storage room to get the caustic soda used to unclog toilets
>I believe chemical burns on any patch of skin shouldn't take more than a few quick seconds to appear
>I grab the trombone in its case. And, dropping the DODECAHEDRON OF FATE in the rough motion as I slam the bulky suitcase down on Titties' nose.
1d100 = 37
>I hop a little and land between her neck and face, like a springboard, launching myself to cross blades with Ren. Case and sword collide, freezing them in a samurai saber clash
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10959 es
>>10958
1d100 = 34
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10960 es
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>>10957
>Kuma... Trying too hard makes you lose points, you have your audience, it's just that Rena isn't part of it. Of course, both you and the rest are always free to enter my market whenever you want ;).
What?...did I say something improper or wrong? Did the fatty not like her nickname? If so, I apologize, I'll have to think of a better nickname, or simply ask her what she'd like to be called... considering she said she sweated a lot, and that she's soft and fluffy.... fat sponge comes to mind, but it's better if she's the one to say it.
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>Hotaru's blush intensified until her face reached an almost incandescent scarlet, far surpassing Bibi's reaction. Faced with the witch's reply, the little blue-haired girl didn't know where to hide; she pressed her lips tightly and buried her face even deeper into the fabric of her friend's chest. From her throat came a small, muffled, high-pitched squeal, as delicate and sharp as the meow of a newborn kitten. Mortified to her core, she began rubbing her face side to side against Bibi, desperately wishing the earth would swallow her up right then. Deep down, Hotaru knew perfectly well she wasn't a pervert—but the harsh truth was that accidentally seeing her only friend's underwear had pleased her. It had struck her as ridiculously cute, especially that tiny, adorable strawberry pattern decorating the red panties. Of course, she'd never confess it in her life, preferring to keep the secret safe for the sake of both their mental health and their sacred friendship. To ease her embarrassment, she simply wrapped her arms around Bibi's waist, hugging her with surprising strength for her petite frame.

>After several minutes, the excitement in the clubroom began to subside, making way for technical preparations. It was time to write up character sheets and formally begin the role-playing game. President Kinoko Ichinose dramatically adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose, fixing her sleep-deprived, shadowed eyes on the girl with the witch's hat.

Kinoko: Ah-ha! I can see in the hollows of your eyes the unmistakable mark of lost dawns, Mahotsukai-dono. You've got the exact look of someone who memorized the entire lore of obscure video game universes they've never actually played. You're the scholarly type of roleplayer who'd rather watch three-hour-long lore videos than ever touch a controller, am I right? I love that sickly energy!

>With an approving smile, Kinoko observed the witch's choice. Bibi had selected the "Prophet" character sheet. The president let out a few enthusiastic claps that echoed through the abandoned classroom.

Kinoko: Excellent choice! As magnanimous president, I allow you to make any narrative adjustments you want to the background or name of your character sheet to fit your concept. However: the base stats stay exactly as they are! If you want better attributes, you'll have to earn them the hard way—by spilling your enemies' blood on the battlefield. Oh, and by the way... don't forget the little detail that your god is practically dead. He can't hear your prayers anymore! Mwahaha!
>While the president laughed in a Machiavellian way at the tragic fate of her character's deity, Hotaru finally lifted her face from Bibi's chest. Wiping away a tiny tear of embarrassment at the corner of her eye, she looked at her friend with clear admiration.

Hotaru: I had no idea you knew so much about roleplaying, Bibi... You really look amazing. Me, honestly, I'm more lost than a little ant in the middle of a dense forest.

>The blue-haired girl sighed, letting her shoulders slump in resignation as she glanced over the stack of papers on the table. Finally, her fingers stopped on one particular sheet.

Hotaru: I think I'll go with the "Infant Seeker"... Her story moved me so much, it shrunk my melon-sized heart.

>With an expression of shyness, Hotaru grabbed a pencil and started sketching lines on the back of the sheet. She focused for a couple of minutes until finally flipping the sheet around to show Bibi the result.

Hotaru: Look... this is my character. Her name is Beatrice.

>To Bibi's surprise, the drawing depicted a stunning lady: a beautiful, tall, slender woman with an idealized figure. Essentially, she was the complete opposite of Hotaru’s own short, frail, undernourished frame. The small girl stared at Bibi with wide eyes, silently waiting for feedback on her creation.

>At that moment, Yowai rejoined the group, walking over with her usual lazy clumsiness. She reappeared near the desks with an amiable smile.

Yowai: Sorry for disappearing earlier without replying, Bibi. I was finishing up something for the club's mural—feel free to come check it out later... But about what you said, I'd love to go to the movies with you once in a while! That would be super fun. By the way, what's your favorite ice cream flavor? Mine's plain old vanilla—I don't complicate my brain.

Hotaru: Mine's strawberry...

Yowai: Great choice! Ah, look, I already picked my character sheet. I went with the "Mad Pricker," but decided to change his race. Made him black with a non-binary sexual orientation.

>Yowai let out a mischievous little giggle before waving her hand dismissively in the air.

Yowai: Just kidding, just kidding. Those weird things like changing classic characters' races are only done by Plutosney and Nextflix. What I actually did was turn him into a dwarf. Look!

>She showed them the back of her sheet. She had drawn a dwarf soldier, stocky-built and wearing heavy armor. Although the drawing was quite crude and the proportions clearly off, the girl smiled proudly, also awaiting the witch's approval.
>Before Bibi could answer either of them, Waldo crossed the room with an absolutely frustrated face and slumped shoulders, clearly affected by the harsh scolding >>10953 he had received moments before.

Yowai: Hey, Valdomero, what happened to your character sheet? What are you going to play?

>Waldo didn't say a word immediately. With a dramatic gesture, he walked over to the classroom trash can and threw in the remains of a sheet of paper that had been destroyed into thousands of tiny pieces.

Waldo: I have to make a new character sheet urgently before the game starts! Damn it!

>Shouting into the air in desperation, the tan-skinned boy suddenly sat down at a nearby desk, pulled out a clean sheet, and began to write and draw at breakneck speed, muttering numbers and names aloud. Hotaru and Yowai stared at him for several seconds, blinking slowly with faces that showed they didn't understand at all what kind of mental breakdown he had just had.

>>10957
>The chubby girl with glasses, whose face was still pressed against the table's wood, lifted her head just a few inches. Her heavy, disinterested eyes observed the teacher's figure for a brief second, showing the absolute apathy of someone whose existence felt like it was falling apart.

Kuma: I want someone my age to harass me... Or younger than me... Not an old man... Besides, you harassing me has no merit, professor. Your mind is so sick that you could sexualize a roasted chicken... I want to bring pleasure to someone who doesn't usually feel it...

>Without waiting for a response, she dropped her face back onto the table with a dull thud, letting out a muffled groan as she sank back into her own misery for not being the center of her classmates' attention.

>Putting Kuma's laments aside, attention returned to Gore Predator. When Jack flatly rejected the idea of taking him home, the young man's made-up face fell into a deep expression of sadness. He pressed his lips together in disappointment; it was evident that it pained him deeply not to be able to see the fat teacher's home. However, that melancholy dissipated in an instant as he observed the adult's neck.

>As the professor shook his head, his prominent double chin twisted and jiggled in a rhythmic wobble. Seeing that fold of fat in motion, GP's eyes widened completely. A string of thick saliva began to drip from the corner of his lips as if he were a hungry dog. He clenched his teeth tightly, increasing the sound of his mouth-breathing, his breath smelled stale, and he began to move his hips in a rhythmic, clumsy, and extremely strange way against the edge of the table, as if something was happening in his pants. Without taking his eyes off Jack's double chin, he began to whisper gore-filled obscenities.
Gore Predator: "Sh-Shit... that hanging mass of flesh... I imagine slicing it with a dull scalpel, stuffing the folds with rusty needles, and rubbing my mouth against the warm blood as it rots... What a damn seductive jowl..."

>Letting out a soft moan, the boy seemed to regain a sliver of lucidity, shaking his head to respond to the teacher's comment about religion.

Gore Predator: But he's right, professor... If you put it that way about the church, it actually sounds pretty fun. The problem is it's almost always just people singing boring hymns and they don't let me masturbate in the confessional. Those rules take all the enjoyment out of worship. Although I must admit my first wank was watching a painting of Saint Sebastian full of arrows at the parish my mother goes to... Although I like Yukio Mishima's version much more. In fact, you have no idea how many times I've wanked off looking at the actual photos of his suicide and decapitation. It's pure art... My best wanks...

>GP smiled widely as he remembered his first orgasm and his best session of self-satisfaction in honor of the deceased writer. It was at that precise moment that his gaze dropped to the teacher's crotch, noticing the obvious erection protruding under his pants.

Gore Predator: Wow! Tell me the truth, professor, how big is it? Because mine, when fully hard and erect, reaches a powerful seven centimeters. And it looks like a coat hanger because it's so crooked to the left, heh, heh...

>The boy let out a couple of nasal, unpleasant laughs. However, noticing the teacher's disapproval of certain aspects of his character sheet, his face abruptly changed to an expression of absolute determination.

Gore Predator: Understood, professor. I'll correct those details you didn't like. We can't allow innocent euphemisms in a masterpiece.

>He nodded firmly, picked up his pencil, and began to vigorously erase the spelling errors and softened expressions to transform the sheet into something truly bloody that the teacher could enjoy. He had to hurry, because at the back of the room, Kinoko was already setting up the cardboard screens, dice, and maps. The game was about to begin.

>>10960
>>10957
>The fat girl lets out a choked scream and pulls at her hair braids, starting to believe no one will desire her the way she wants to be desired.
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>>10956
>>10955
>She listened carefully to Rena's coffee preferences, nodding slowly as she played with her candy wrapper.

Katsumi: I like coffee, but only if it has milk. I can't drink it black, I find it too bitter and I prefer sweet things... Besides, coffee really messes with me, it makes me constipated.

>Noticing that Rena's face was a little dirty, Katsumi gently took a napkin from her pocket. With a warm, kind, and almost maternal gesture, she cleaned the girl's face with absolute care.

Katsumi: Don't talk with your mouth full, Rena, you might choke.

>Suddenly, an anime melody began to resonate in the air. Katsumi jumped in her seat and started frantically looking around, even crouching down to look under the table for the source of the music, until Rena clarified that it was just her alarm. Katsumi let out a long sigh of relief and smiled.

Katsumi: Ah, okay... Thank goodness, I was starting to think I was going crazy.

>Curious, she asked how often she had to take that medication. However, noticing how Rena chewed the temples of her glasses when talking about the past, the giant raised an eyebrow, fearing she had touched a sensitive topic and hoping she wasn't unintentionally causing a crisis. She listened attentively and her eyes widened in surprise when Rena mentioned her family.

Katsumi: You have a sister?! Really? Does she also study here at Kamome or go to another school? It must be really difficult moving from province to province all over the southern empire and then changing countries... I mean, ever since North America unified into one country, Mexico has gone from bad to worse. It's a shame, but I hope you stay and live in Osaka for a long time and settle here so I can see you every day. I'd like you to live very happily in Japan.

>To change the subject, Rena showed her a video on her phone. Upon seeing the images of Doctor Simi dancing reggaeton with that fluffy mascot, Katsumi couldn't help herself. She started laughing so tenderly and cheerfully that tears even came to her eyes, letting out contagious laughter. Her laugh was extremely beautiful and delicate, creating a lovely contrast with her mastodon physique.

Katsumi: Oh my god, that was too funny! I'd love to see one of those mascots dancing like that in person... I totally understand why that was the only thing you liked about Mexico.

>Then, she gently shook her hand to clear up a misunderstanding about her origin.

Katsumi: Ah, no, my dad is 100% Japanese, but in Venezuela they often hire many Japanese players for their teams. It's just that the real baseball powerhouses are the United States of Humanity, Japan, and the Caribbean. Although... I recently read in the news that their government bombed those favelas and they are restructuring all of South America. Maybe now it will be a good place to live.
>Continuing the conversation about sports and movies, she smiled nostalgically.

Katsumi: I like the movie "Hercules Watches," but "The Benchwarmers" is super special to me. It was the first baseball movie I ever watched with my late mom... By the way, I'd be more than happy for you to come watch me play! I usually play baseball on Saturdays and Sundays with a team where my dad is the coach. You're more than welcome—you can bring your sister or your mom if they'd like. We always have delicious barbecues after the games.

>At that moment, Katsumi was surprised to see how Rena's attitude changed drastically. She dropped her stoic demeanor and began speaking with overflowing excitement about The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and literary details the giantess had never heard before. Katsumi placed her index finger on her lower lip and looked up at the ceiling, thoughtful.

Katsumi: Mmm... Alright, I'll agree to read it with you, but on one condition: you have to read it to me. I don't like reading—not because I'm lazy, but because book text is ridiculously small for me and I have trouble seeing it clearly. It frustrates me a lot. So it would be wonderful if you could read it to me like a bedtime story. And of course, we can definitely watch the movies together, either at your place or mine. Actually, I heard somewhere that Yowai loves movies—she'd surely love to join a movie night. If you post an announcement on the club bulletin board, everyone will definitely sign up. Count on me for sure; even though I barely understood anything you just said, I was amazed by the passion in your voice. It's so sweet—you look like a minion when you get excited like that! And I absolutely love minions. I don't know what Columbine is... but you're right about one thing: you shouldn't trust anyone inside Kamome. This high school brings out the worst in people. I hate it.

>She remained serious for a few seconds, until Rena started delivering a soliloquy about who is beautiful and why. The giantess opened her eyes wide in surprise, her face lit up with a smile, then slowly narrowed her eyes, gazing at Rena with a deeply soft, almost flirtatious and seductive look—as if she could see straight into the girl's soul.

Katsumi: You know... that same quality is what makes you beautiful. Only beautiful people are capable of seeing beauty in beings others consider abominable, like Master Jack. I really admire that about you, Rena. That kindness you show toward others is angelic. You truly are like an angel from heaven.

>Noticing Rena's cheeks beginning to flush a bright crimson, Katsumi leaned in slightly closer, fascinated by her reaction.
Katsumi: You look beautiful when you blush. Your shy attitude, your flushed cheeks... You're not a bad person, Rena-chan, you're just misunderstood. You're a beautiful, gorgeous, lovely, pretty, and wonderful girl. You have the ability to see light in the midst of absolute darkness, and that makes you extremely beautiful. Maybe you don't have the physical features you'd like to have or consider beautiful, but you, just as you are, are gorgeous! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay, angel-chan?

>She gives him the warmest and purest smile of her entire life, then lets out a small bitter chuckle while shrugging her shoulders.

Katsumi: But don't say I'm beautiful... A few years ago, I confessed to the guy I liked, and he rejected me in the worst way. He told me to my face that he would never date Sylvester Stallone... Since that day, I know perfectly well that I'm not pretty and that I look more like a man than a woman. Although... I thank you with all my heart for the compliment, Rena-chan.

>>10953
>Bonita-chan's curt refusal froze the atmosphere. Hisao and Valdo's eyes widened, lost in absolute surprise at hearing the silver-haired girl dismantle the dark-haired student's stance. The small, bandaged black-haired boy, overcome with terrible nervousness, waved his hands clumsily, his face filled with discomfort, shame, and immense secondhand embarrassment.

Hisao: Y-You don't have to defend me, please... You're partly right, he's a very s-stupid pawn...

>However, Hisao's heart seemed to stop completely when Bonita-chan continued speaking. Hearing that it was precisely that childish and cardboard knight nature that fascinated her, the boy froze. Valdo, for his part, raised an eyebrow with initial skepticism, believing it was all a bad joke. But as Lebedeve's speech progressed, relentlessly logically dissecting the true meaning of playing a character and accusing Valdo of fearing ridicule due to a lack of imagination, the dark-haired boy's attitude began to crack. Valdo's doubtful face progressively transformed into deep shock, culminating in a state of total bewilderment. Meanwhile, Hisao went from innocent surprise to a warm blush that quickly mutated into an incandescent flush. His face burned like an erupting volcano, forced to hide his smiling, foolish face behind his black bangs so that Bonita-chan wouldn't notice how much he was enjoying being defended, fearing she would judge him as a freak.
>For Hisao, the platinum-haired girl's words resonated deep within his being: his character sheet had a soul. Bonita-chan valued his genuine attempt to seek happiness in a corrupt world; his creation was authentic and possessed an undeniable ESSENCE. Meanwhile, Valdo was completely crushed by the analysis. The words, as sharp as swords, brought him down morally, to the point of losing his balance and falling heavily onto his butt. From the floor, the dark-haired boy looked at her with wide eyes, accepting his crushing defeat in both ethics and roleplaying. Although Valdo often made unfortunate comments due to his strict nature, he was incapable of ignoring such a colossal truth when presented head-on. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the young girl's face, absorbing the lesson about "larping," the fear of cringe, and the false superiority of following rigid rules instead of being original. Lebedeve had just shattered his closed-minded beliefs, removing the veil from his eyes and showing him a perspective of fantasy he had never imagined.

>Slowly, Valdo lowered his gaze to the floor, still amazed by what he had just witnessed. Immediately, he settled onto the tiles and assumed a perfect dogeza posture, pressing his forehead to the ground to emphatically apologize to Bonita-chan and Hisao.

Valdo: I'm so sorry! I was blind!

Hisao: A-Ah! It's not that bad, please get up!

>The dark-haired boy exclaimed, waving his hands with extreme shyness.

>Valdo jumped up with a gymnastic leap, his eyes brimming with renewed and burning determination.

Valdo: No, Hisao! I must remake my character from scratch! I now realize that my own character sheet completely lacks SOUL and E S S E N C E!

>Without a second's hesitation, Valdo took his own sheet of paper and tore it into thousands of tiny pieces that flew through the air like confetti. Immediately after, he began to bow frantically towards the platinum-haired girl.

Valdo: Thank you infinitely for this scolding, Lebedeve-senpai! Please teach me more about true roleplaying!

>With a completely renewed and energetic aura, the bespectacled young man retreated to his seat to write a new story. At that precise moment, President Kinoko began to clap with superhuman force while seas of dramatic tears flowed from her eyes.

Kinoko: Aaaaah! This has been simply beautiful! Sublime! You perfectly understand what roleplaying means, Bonita-chan! I need you to write an entire chapter of my manifesto! Your wisdom must be immortalized in my opus magnum! But that will be later, because thanks to you, I've gotten an unbearable roleplaying high! We must start the session right now!

>While Kinoko continued to praise her excessively between sobs and applause, Hisao approached Bonita-chan unnoticed. The boy didn't dare look her directly in the eyes and kept his face hidden behind his hair, but his silly smile and the intense blush coloring his cheeks were obvious from a mile away.

Hisao: I... thank you so much for your words... I promise I won't disappoint you or get rid of my character sheet. I'll give it my all to play Cajaman just as I wanted to from the beginning.
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>>10958
>The echo of Himawari Shion's laughter reverberated through the abandoned classroom with a sharp, raspy, and unhinged vibration that drilled directly into the ears. The girl couldn't contain the glee she felt seeing Voronin's contorted and dizzy face as he writhed pathetically in his chair.

>The Russian aristocrat had his mouth stuffed with Kumiko's underwear and a tampon soaked in menstrual blood as a gag. For the refined and neat violinist, this was hell on earth. The taste of dense copper, rusty iron, body odor, and viscous fluids flooded his palate with a nauseating warmth. Far from any kind of pleasure or perversion, the sensation caused him visceral disgust that violently churned his stomach. Voronin choked back desperate retches, trying in vain to spit out the fabric saturated with biological fluid while tears of pain and humiliation streamed down his cheeks, his diaphragm contracting in a futile effort not to vomit on his own white silk shirt.

>Shion pointed at the grotesque spectacle with her index finger, doubling over with laughter as the two disproportionate spheres of her chest bounced uncontrollably against the tight fabric of her modified military uniform.

Shion: HAHAHAHA! Just look at this idiot! His mouth is full of Larplace's bitch's sacred juice! It's fantastic, truly fantastic! Look at him choking! Larplace, you're mentally ill! You're performing a damn blood ritual live so he'll never forget you! Look at him, he looks like he's going to swallow his own fluids from sheer disgust! What a deliciously filthy scene! HAHAHAHA!

>Unlike the boisterous and spoiled Shion, who seemed to see all this as a grotesque comedy with a wooden sword in her hands, Ren Mizukage remained in deathly silence.

>Ren didn't blink. His dark, dry eyes, completely devoid of light, remained fixed on Kumiko like two bottomless black pits. There was no emotion in him, no mockery, no haste. He gave the impression of being a biological machine programmed solely for execution, a true assassin calculating distances, angles, and trajectories. The difference between the two committee members was abysmal: Shion was a spoiled and exhibitionist brat playing school guard, but Ren was a lethal predator waiting for the exact moment to deliver the final blow.

>Shion stopped her laughter for a second, tilting her head as she adjusted the brim of her cap with a mocking smile.

Shion: Hey, Ren... now that I look at her up close... this little girl has a face that seems strangely familiar. Doesn't she look a lot like that chick who was related to the blue lions family? Yeah, yeah, that woman. Hey, could it be that this brat is a failed clone of her from some clandestine lab? I mean, with how crazy and easy she is, she'd fit perfectly as a discarded experiment, don't you think?
Ren: Silence, Miss Himawari.

Ren's order was issued in an inert, icy, and sharp voice. He didn't take his eyes off Kumiko for a second. His senses, trained for combat and hunting, detected a slight shift in the girl's center of gravity, the subtle tension in her arm muscles, and the intent behind her gaze. Ren instantly understood the student's tactical maneuver, but Kumiko's calculation was already in motion.

Ren lunged forward with superhuman speed to intercept her, but Kumiko acted with astonishing and unforeseen swiftness.

Before Ren's hands could reach her, Kumiko dropped Voronin backward out the open window into the void of the inner courtyard. The Russian boy struggled with desperate rage, kicked in the air, and let out muffled squeals through the bloody gag. The desperation was such that the bitter liquid of his own urine soaked the front of his pants as he plummeted. His figure cut through the night air for an endless second until gravity claimed its due.

CRACK-SPLAT!

The vile, dry, and chilling sound of Voronin's skull splitting in two as it violently hit the courtyard asphalt echoed off the building walls, followed by the absolute silence of instant death.

Shion froze in place, her eyes wide and her mouth agape at the shock of the scene.

Shion: WHAT THE HELL...?! YOU BITCH, SHE KILLED HIM! SHE REALLY KILLED HIM!

As Shion descended into hysterics and began to hastily assume a combat stance with her wooden katana, Ren showed no surprise. He was closer to Kumiko than before, completely silent, coldly readjusting his strategy. However, Kumiko proved once again that reaction speed was her greatest asset.

Without giving Shion time to consolidate her offensive stance, Kumiko pulled out a bottle and sprayed a direct stream of caustic soda towards the girl's face. Shion, reacting out of pure survival instinct, managed to cross her arms to cover her face and chest area, the only parts of her anatomy she cared for with almost obsessive devotion, but her provocative and fabric-lacking attire played the worst trick on her. The corrosive chemical directly impacted her exposed skin: shoulders, thighs, and abdomen suffered direct and immediate contact.

Shion: AAAAAAHHHHHHH! MY SKIN! DAMN YOU, IT BURNS! IT BURNS, IT BURNS, IT BURNS! MY BODY, YOU SON OF A BITCH!

Shion's screams of pain tore through the night as the caustic soda melted the epidermal layer, generating a faint chemical smoke and instantly reddening the flesh. Kumiko seized that precise moment of agony without hesitation.
>Using her trusty euphonium with mechanical precision, Kumiko slammed the instrument's heavy metal frame directly into the center of Shion's face. The impact of metal against cartilage was devastating. Shion's nose fractured with a sickening crunch, caving to one side and spewing a flare of thick blood that coated her chin and uniform. The blow sent her violently to the floor, leaving her sprawled on her back, coughing, choking on her own blood, and screaming in pure agony, temporarily incapacitated from fighting.

>Without losing the momentum of the attack, Kumiko used the downed Shion's neck and face as a makeshift springboard, launching herself forcefully into the air directly towards Ren Mizukage.

>Kumiko's instrument case collided head-on with the wooden sword Ren raised to block. Ren attempted a diagonal slash, but in that supreme second, it was proven that weight, mass, and the vibration of music could overcome pure, calculated violence. Kumiko's momentum and brute force shattered the android's guard. The force of the impact forced Ren to yield, causing his feet to slip and sending him stumbling violently backward several steps until he slammed hard against the frame of the very window the former orchestra president had just fallen out of.

>Ren was on the verge of losing his balance and falling into the void as well, but with feline agility, he managed to cling to the wooden frame, regaining his posture. From the window, Ren glanced sideways at the courtyard below: there lay Voronin's inert body, surrounded by a thick red pool of brain matter and blood.

>Kumiko had achieved the impossible. She had humiliated, injured, and thrown off balance two of the most feared enforcers of the Kamome High School Disciplinary Committee.

>The path to the classroom door was clear. Kumiko had the perfect opportunity to bolt down the dark hallways, escape into the campus shadows, and never return to that concrete prison... or at least try to return someday under a completely false identity. She knew perfectly well her hide was marked forever, and that the committee would move heaven and earth to hunt her down for revenge.

>However, just as she was about to cross the threshold, her luck ran out completely.

>From the outer hallway, the resounding echo of multiple heavy footsteps marching at high speed began to be heard. Massive, coordinated, and accelerated steps of dozens of committee guards heading directly for that classroom after hearing Shion's screams of agony and the crash of Voronin's fall. The conventional escape route was completely blocked.

>To make matters worse, behind her, the nightmare was not over.
>Shion slowly began to get to her feet on the fluid-stained floor. Coughing hard, her left hand pressing her chemical-burned throat and her right wiping the abundant blood gushing from her broken nose, the girl rose like a deformed demon. Her eyes, wide open and completely bloodshot, gleamed with the pure madness of someone who has lost their sanity from pain and humiliation.

>Shion and Ren brought their hands to the hilts of their weapons. With a metallic click, both drew their blades.

>The swords were not wooden. What Kumiko had taken for practice katanas were actually real swords, polished carbon steel blades, sharp as razors and capable of slicing flesh and bone with the slightest pressure, skillfully hidden inside wooden sheaths to bypass visible regulations. The silver gleam of steel cut through the dimness of the room.

>Shion stood up with the katana trembling in her hand, letting out a heartbreaking shriek of rage and hysteria.

Shion: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU DAMN SHITTY BITCH! I'M GOING TO SPLIT YOU IN TWO FROM CUNT TO BRAINS AND THEN I'M GOING TO SKIN YOUR CORPSE! AND WHEN THE POLICE FIND WHAT'S LEFT OF YOU, WE'LL SAY IT WAS A CRIME OF PASSION AND THAT YOU BROUGHT IT ON YOURSELF FOR BEING A WHORE! I'M GOING TO TARNISH YOUR REPUTATION BEYOND MERE DEATH, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE!

>Shion was kicking and having a demented tantrum, bloody and burned, but the real steel sword in her hands made her a deadly and imminent threat.

>Beside her, Ren maintained absolute peace. The boy held his steel katana with one hand, looking at Kumiko with the same expressionless coldness as always. He adjusted his stance with military elegance and spoke in an icy, calm, and calculating tone.

Ren: There's no need to keep fighting, Miss Kumiko. You are completely surrounded by our forces in the outer hallway. Considering it from a purely logical perspective: you are already a dead girl. I won't ask you to surrender. I ask, for your own good, that you remain completely still so I can cleanly and quickly cut off your head. That way, we'll save ourselves the mess and hassle of severing your limbs one by one before you bleed out.

>Kumiko's situation had gone from a dead end to a veritable slaughterhouse. Her previous action hadn't made things easier; it only managed to enrage two sociopaths armed with real blades to the limit, who now have no intention of letting her leave alive. She could choose to end the encounter and defeat those two, perhaps escape through the door with an idea to push aside the other supporting characters coming for her, or maybe create an emergency exit. The dice of fate roll again.

1d100 = 33
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10964 es
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>>10963
>>10958
>100
S-S-Sure you can make another character, little player... Oh...
Rolero Sapphire-580f94 No.10965 es
>>10964
The murderhobo must accept their fate with their head held high.
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>>10902
>>10890
>>10957
>>10960
>>10954
>>10930
>>10953
>With the 15 minutes of preparation officially over and the character sheets laid out on the table, the atmosphere in the club room reached a boiling point of creativity. President Kinoko felt an electric spark run down her spine. Ecstatic and completely filled with inspiration after witnessing Bonita-chan's beautiful and heartfelt speech, the club leader couldn't contain the torrent of adrenaline that threatened to make her chest explode.

BAM!

>With immense force that echoed like thunder in the classroom, Kinoko slammed both palms of her hands against the wooden table's surface. The impact sent the plastic miniatures flying, shook the Pringles can, and forced everyone present to jump in their folding chairs, their gazes immediately fixed on her.

>Without losing a single second of that absolute attention, the president leaned over to the adjacent shelf and pressed the button on the old tape recorder. A new ambient melody began to play. Kinoko took the illustrated Vermis manual into her hands with an almost mystical fervor, holding it as if it were a forbidden tome rescued from the flames of a burning temple.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFj8RsljbCQ
>Adjusting her thick glasses on the bridge of her nose with an elegant movement of her index finger, Kinoko exhaled slowly. When she opened her mouth again, her voice was not that of the loud, hyperactive girl from a few minutes ago; it completely transformed into the voice of a professional radio announcer, a deep, velvety, magnetic, and profoundly enveloping register that seemed to resonate from the depths of the earth itself. Her interpretive art was so sublime, charged with such polished passion and eloquence, that more than one person at the table got goosebumps all over, feeling the air in the room become strangely cold and heavy.

>Accompanying each phrase with fluid hand gestures, shadows cast by her fingers on the GM screen, and intense gazes that cut through her glasses, the narrator began the journey:
Kinoko: Our adventure, oh unheard-of and stubborn corpses who do not yet wish to rest in the sea of free souls, begins on the outskirts of the Capital, known as Greengrave or also called "The Dead Man's Garden," where the inert bones of a murdered god lie. The remains of Gurvek the Great have grown across the mountains and now stand as one of the relics of the ancient world. It is not known what or who killed him, but everything seems to indicate that it was the fruit of deceit. It is said that those who live here live longer than normal, demonstrating that Gurvek, even in death, tries to protect his believers through these sacred forests.

>She paused dramatically, lowering her voice to an almost cavernous whisper that forced all the players to lean forward so as not to miss a single word.

Kinoko: On the other hand, the capital is consumed by chaos, in a constant war led by fools and liars blinded by the shine of their own crowns; faith, blood, gold: each believes their cause is just, they think each sacrifice brings them closer to the death of their enemies. However far your journey may be from the fury of those in power, it begins in the depths of the Greengrave forest...

>The president extended an arm over the parchment map, drawing an imaginary route with her index finger as she described the surroundings with a terrifying vividness. Under her words, the forest came to life in the minds of those present: a canopy of twisted trees whose dry branches intertwined like skeletal fingers blocking the sky, drowning the light in a perpetual gloom tinged with greenish mist. The smell of damp earth, rotten leaf litter, and ancient stone seemed to magically seep through the pores of the kraft paper.

Kinoko: Once you awaken alongside the others, you find yourself in a small crypt in the middle of the forest; it is cold and damp, but it feels strangely comfortable... There are your first steps... On your tombstone is a poem by an unknown author...

>She tilted her head slightly, reciting the verses with the sad solemnity of a funeral elegy:

Kinoko: House of gray, house of cold.
House of a thousand doors.
House of many, house of no one.
House of those who are no longer home.

>A breathtaking silence fell over the table. The background music played the dull lament of an imaginary wind seeping through the cracks in the graves.
Kinoko: You find yourself in the Greengrave cemetery! In your coffin lie your belongings, which you can take. Meanwhile, your gaze wanders over the cemetery, which is as large as a city itself... a true capital of death, perhaps larger than the capital of the living. Before you rise infinite rows of lichen-eaten mausoleums, mausoleums that disappear from sight in the stagnant mist where the absolute stillness is only broken by the distant crunching of old bones.

>She raised three fingers of her right hand, showing them one by one with precision.

Kinoko Ichinose: You have 3 options, filthy corpse: venture into the depths of the cemetery towards a dense forest with no apparent exit; ascend to the second level of the cemetery in that gloomy, time-worn tower; or, alternatively, descend to the lowest and most forgotten part of the cemetery, that is, the catacombs. Your main objective is to escape the cemetery. It is time for the dice of fate to roll... but be careful, for the cemetery is stalked by beasts that, even in the peace of death, find violence.

>After that brilliant and moving piece of oratory worthy of the finest oral storytelling circles, Kinoko paused for a few seconds to let the impact of the atmosphere settle in her companions' minds. With professional elegance, she adjusted her glasses on her face and straightened her posture in the folding chair, sweeping the table with an incisive gaze.

>Still maintaining that professional, hypnotic, and formal tone of voice, the Game Master proceeded to clarify the mechanical rules of the session, reaching out to place several special dice in the center of the cemetery map.

Kinoko: To make decisions, explore the geography of this dying world, and investigate the secrets hidden by the gloom, you will need to roll the Zocchihedro of Fate. However, for the technical resolution of your actions in this system, we will adhere to two fundamental tools: we will use the fifty-sided die, the d50, to measure the precision and accuracy of your movements, as well as for the activation of sorcery or complex maneuvers. Meanwhile, the twenty-sided die, the d20, will be strictly reserved for determining damage values inflicted.
>He took the fifty-sided translucent die and spun it on the wood before continuing.

Kinoko: Pay close attention to the shadow of luck: if you roll less than 25 on your aiming or attack rolls, the attack, maneuver, or spell will fail miserably, leaving your flesh exposed to the horrors lurking among the graves. Likewise, remember to apply the bonuses granted by your attributes: Strength will add directly to the damage of your dice, Willpower will grant a positive modifier to your aiming rolls with the d50, Intelligence will boost magical damage, and Faith will allow you to channel miracles and dark rites.

>He picked up the can of Pringles, took out a couple of crispy chips, and chewed them with restrained grace, accompanying the bite with a long swig of his pineapple soda before resuming the verbal thread with the same stage presence as before.

Kinoko: Regarding your physical vitality, each of your mortal vessels begins with a base of 100 Hit Points (HP). To this standardized figure, you must add 5 additional Hit Points for each point of Willpower recorded on your respective character sheets. I suggest you keep your mathematical calculations up to date and clearly noted in the margins of your sheets, because in the rotten soil of Greengrave, a single hit point marks the boundary between continuing to walk and becoming mere fertilizer for the dead gods.

>He placed the bottle on the table with a dry thud that resonated in perfect contrast to the melancholic melody of the recorder. Leaning forward over the Game Master's Screen, he rested his elbows on the wood and clasped his hands in front of his face, letting the reflection of the light on his glasses completely hide his eyes.

Kinoko: The crypt's mist surrounds you, the cold of the tombstones chills your characters' bones, and the cemetery's shadow stretches infinitely before your steps. The belongings from your coffins await to be taken, and the three paths of death open before you... Where will the first stride of your troubled flesh lead? It is time to declare your actions. The stage is entirely yours!
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10967 es
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>>10965
I'm not saying no, I was talking about another character besides Kumiko, she's already gone unless there's a roleplaying miracle.
Loremaster Aventurine-91d0bb No.10968 es
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>A pink sheet with a border of little flowers next to a small poster printed with fresh ink.

"Hello again to the club members!"

"The truth is I really enjoyed writing the text. I felt it was smooth to share a bit of what goes through my head when I lock myself in my hideout to watch movies, so I'm going to keep doing it. I feel like I have an interesting opinion to contribute and, honestly, I'm fascinated by talking about movies that moved me or that I'd love for more people to discover so we can discuss them."

For this second installment of the mural, I want to go for something quite different in era and style, but equally fascinating. It's about..."''

"Life Size" by Luis García Berlanga.

"I'll quickly tell you what it's about: Michel is a middle-aged dentist in Paris who seemingly has it all — a good job, social standing, an attractive wife — but who is deeply bored and unsatisfied with his life. One day he decides to buy a life-size latex doll from Japan. What at first seems like a curious fetish or a simple eccentricity quickly turns into a sickening obsession. Michel starts dressing her, having dinner with her, giving her a name, and treating her as his ideal partner, completely isolating himself from the real world to live locked in a domestic fantasy with an inanimate object."

"Getting a bit more cinephile with the analysis, the film is a masterpiece of social satire and black humor. Berlanga handles eroticism not as something purely sensual, but as an uncomfortable and absurd vehicle to explore emotional voids. Cinematographically, the handling of space is brilliant: the camera starts by showing wide shots and Michel's urban routine, but gradually the composition becomes tighter, trapping the viewer inside the apartment with the protagonist, reflecting his gradual disconnection from reality."

"The most powerful thematic core here is the infantilization of man and how it directly impacts his sexuality. Michel doesn't want a real woman with imperfections, ideas, or contradictions; he behaves like a spoiled child who prefers a submissive toy. His affection and desire degrade to an immature state because he is incapable of dealing with otherness. The relationship with the doll starkly exposes how selfish male desire seeks to reduce women to mere objects of consumption: a beautiful, inert figure, without will or voice of her own, designed solely to satisfy needs without demanding anything in return."

"The narrative rhythm flows between comedic moments and deeply melancholic situations, leading you to a very abrupt ending. I won't spoil it for you, but it's a dry conclusion, one of those that doesn't give you spoon-fed explanations and leaves you processing the emotional impact for a good while."

"Personally, I find 'Life Size' to be a brilliant reflection on modern loneliness and the fear of true intimacy. It makes you wonder if we sometimes prefer to surround ourselves with echoes that validate our ego rather than risk connecting with someone real."

"Anyway, I'll leave it here on the mural. Take the time to watch it if these kinds of provocative stories catch your attention, and then tell me what you thought. I'll be very happy to know if you agree with my point of view or if you saw a completely different angle."

"Once again, here's the link for you to watch it:" https://ok.ru/video/9711279934040

Sayuri
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10969 es
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>>10961
>The fat one lets out a choked scream and pulls at the braids of her hair, she's starting to believe no one will desire her the way she wants to be desired.
...Did I eat the big flute's shaft?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujN2twqe9Yw>>10962
>Katsumi: I like coffee, but only if it has milk. I can't drink it black, it's too bitter for me and I prefer sweet things... Besides, coffee really hurts me, it causes constipation.
That's why everything I mention has something sweet, black coffee should only be drunk in extreme cases for late-night studying or with a hangover, although I've never experienced such things. Regarding constipation, you just tell your body no and that's it, like diabetes, you tell it no and that's it, if only it were like that with autism and depression.
-Rena said this very confidently, either her view on suffering discomfort was wrong, or her metabolism was weird-
I wonder how much milk you've had to grow so much
>Katsumi: Don't talk with your mouth full, Rena, you could choke.
Sorry -Rena swallows the cookies- I didn't bring anything to wash them down with, and I think it would be rude to ask the president for a soda.

>Katsumi: Ah, okay... Good thing, I was starting to think I was going crazy.
-Rena looked at Katsumi, saw her bottle of pills, and looked back at Katsumi-
Can I offer you one? They're not for craziness, but they relax you and prevent you from thinking ugly thoughts, although you might have an allergic reaction depending on your metabolism. It's like drinking coffee, except coffee can depress you no matter how sweet it is, and this counteracts it....
-For a moment Rena frowns, she had just rationalized something, her life was a cycle, a constant cycle she couldn't escape, getting depressed, taking this and losing the little bit that she herself could experience as her real self, but by doing so, she could be genuinely at peace and calm. She could only sigh and continue the conversation, taking off her glasses-

>Katsumi: You have a sister?! Seriously? Does she also study here at Kamome or go to another school? It must be very difficult moving from province to province across the entire southern empire and then ending up changing countries... I mean, ever since North America unified into one country, Mexico has gone from bad to worse. It's a shame, but I hope you stay to live in Osaka for a long time and settle here so I can see you every day. I'd like you to live very happily in Japan.
She was born in Okinawa, Mom is from Osaka and came to this school, she met Dad when he was filming some videos, when she got pregnant at 15 she dropped out of school and her gang and traveled with Dad around the country in secret, until they were discovered and deported, a year later I was born, and although they settled down, Dad was always traveling and cheating on Mom, that's why she returned to the only place she knew and could really return to, because of that stupid law, and well, I already said, she set up her own mechanical workshop, and we lived in boarding schools, at 10 we came to Japan with Mom, Dad visits us from time to time since then, he's not a bad guy, just a bit irresponsible, and about my sister Renata, she was supposed to come here and not me, she's in Kyoto because of a mix-up, Dad wrote down our names wrong and she ended up in a boarding school for special kids, and no, they don't know she's half Latina, her birth certificate says she was born in Okinawa after all, so... it's not like Dad planned for me to end up in that school either... look
-Rena shows a photo of her with her sister and mother-
It was on my birthday, Christmas night a few months ago
We were grounded for being expelled from school for... you know, but that day Mom took us to the movies, then a guy tried to mug us, and Mom beat him up and stole his motorcycle
-Rena was telling all this with a small smile-

>Katsumi: Oh my god, that was too funny! I'd love to see one of those mascots dancing like that in person... I totally understand why that was the only thing you liked about Mexico.
I'm glad it made you laugh, you have a beautiful laugh, well... the cheese steak tacos weren't bad, and with Dr. Simi, they also have them in Chile - he says showing a duel of 2 Dr. Simis-
https://youtu.be/TCsz5z5wkhs?si=2Surm6Y0MI83IEGU
>Katsumi: Ah, no, my dad is 100% Japanese, but in Venezuela they often hire many Japanese players for their teams. It's just that the real baseball powerhouses are the United States of Humanity, Japan, and the Caribbean. Although... I recently read in the news that their government bombed those favelas and they are restructuring all of South America. Maybe now it will be a good place to live.
So that baseball team called the Pirates is from the Caribbean?
-Rena was confusing things, but could you blame her? Johnny Depp's portrayal of Jack Sparrow is legendary-
and Osaka looks a lot like Latin America, I don't see that much difference besides having Japanese things that come from other states.... I would like to visit the Tokyo Tower or Mount Fuji - she said sadly-

>Katsumi: I like the movie "Hercules watches", but "The Bank Warmers" is super special to me. It was the first baseball movie I saw with my late mom... By the way, you can absolutely come see me play! I usually play baseball on Saturdays and Sundays in a team where my dad is the coach. You are more than invited, you can bring your sister or your mom if they want. We always have delicious barbecues after the games.
Mom would join, Renata when she gets vacation, she would join on her own, not for the food, but to see who she should hit if something happens to me, but ok, give me your number, so we can stay in touch to meet tomorrow.

>Katsumi: Mmm... Okay, I accept reading it with you, but with one condition: you have to read it to me. I don't like reading, not because I'm lazy, but because books have ridiculously small letters for me and I have trouble seeing them well, it frustrates me a lot. So it would be lovely if you read it to me like a bedtime story. And of course, we can watch the movies together, either at your place or mine. In fact, I saw somewhere that Yowai loves movies, she would surely love to join a movie night. If you put the announcement on the club bulletin board, you can be sure that everyone will sign up. Count me in for sure; even though I didn't understand almost anything you said, I found the passion with which you speak incredible. It's super cute, you look like a minion when you get excited like that! And I love minions... I don't know what Columbine is... but you're right about one thing: you shouldn't trust anyone in Kamome. This high school brings out the worst in people, I hate it.
When I get home, I'll make a list of activities the club could do, although it will depend on the president's approval, I also need to start making my witch costume as I told Red, the minions died in Déjà Dru, no offense, but that was the peak of the franchise, I'm not saying everything that came after isn't good, just that it's inferior to that movie, replicating Groundhog Day over and over with philosophical touches, Dru trying to avoid Gru's death, and the minions choosing a side, that's what I call cinema... and regarding the last part.
-Rena touched Katsumi's chest with her finger, she had been curious since the fat guy prompted her to do it, and to not seem suspicious, she accompanied her action with some genuine words that came from her thoughts-
For now, you're showing me you're trustworthy, keep it up and I'll trust you with my life, this high school might be disgusting, but not everyone is disgusting -she says looking at the rest of the club while still touching Katsumi's chest, sinking her finger deeper to test the sponginess- ...well, others are just ugly, but not bad people -she says looking at the pair of fat guys while stopping touching the giant's chest-
>Katsumi: You know... that's exactly what makes you beautiful. Only beautiful people are capable of seeing beauty in beings that others consider abominable, like Master Jack. I deeply admire that about you, Rena. That kindness you have toward others is angelic. You really are like an angel from heaven.
https://youtube.com/shorts/XirSk1tbf_Y?si=pOkfOBI0d2z06df5
...ah...-Rena.exe has stopped working-

>Katsumi: You look so pretty when you blush. Your shy attitude, your flushed cheeks... You're not a bad person, Rena-chan, you're just misunderstood. You're a beautiful girl, lovely, cute, gorgeous, and wonderful. You have the ability to see light in the deepest darkness, and that makes you incredibly beautiful. Maybe you don't have the physical traits you wish for or consider beautiful, but you—just as you are—are absolutely gorgeous! Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, okay, angel-chan?
https://youtu.be/4w5kfB4u8lM?si=28soWvO2VwLV0iXc
....A?
-Rebooting.... Rena was left with blank eyes and a red face, slumped in her chair with steam coming out of her ears. Although she had heard what Katsumi said, responding would be difficult-

>Katsumi: But don't say I'm beautiful... A few years ago, I confessed to the guy I liked and he rejected me in the worst way. He told me straight to my face that he'd never date Sylvester Stallone... Since that day, I've known perfectly well that I'm not pretty and that I look more like a man than a woman. Although... I sincerely appreciate the compliment, Rena-chan.
...T-t-t-tssss tttt you....Rocky!!!!....he's....missing out....Italian stallion!
-Rena genuinely had the words on the tip of her tongue, but she was on the verge of collapse, so she did the only thing she could—hugged Katsumi and buried her face in her chest, not in a perverted way, but like a child seeking protection from her mother, an instinct Rena had at home-

>>10966
¡BAM!
IF YOU'RE SO PRETTY AND BEAUTIFUL, EVEN GORGEOUS, THAT GUY WASN'T WORTHY TO COMPARE THE ITALIAN STALLION TO YOU. ONCE, SOMEONE CONFESSED TO ME AND MY SISTER GRABBED THE GUY AND USING A HAMMER SHE...
-Rena had jumped like a cat from the noise, snapping back to reality. Noticing she was speaking loudly, she stopped hugging Katsumi. Without a trace of embarrassment on her face, it returned to her usual poker face, the blush gone. She silently bowed in apology, letting the class president speak. She could continue talking with Katsumi later-

(later I'll send the rest properly, if I don't post today it's because an electrician is coming to check the electricity, I hope I can post later)
Kumiko##eULHjo Musgravite-5ef2ae No.10970 es
>>10919
wtf
Kumiko##eULHjo Musgravite-5ef2ae No.10971 es
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spoiler
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>name and/or nickname
Kumiko Prime
>exact age
26 years, 2 months, 25 days, 4 hours, and 2 minutes.
>school grade
teaching classes
>gender or sex
Autistic
>birthday
the day the gringos think is Mexico's national day, from the first year of the millennium
>nationality
--mexichanga-- Japanese
>roleplaying experience
since /g/
>favorite setting
mecha, magical girls, and maybe medfan
>dice type
1d100 = 23 the good old reliable
>character archetype
summoner of characters from other roleplays
>current relationship status
long-distance relationship with problems I don't plan to discuss I'll just say we're not fighting
>fetish or vice
Mobile Suit Gundam: Ghiren's Greed V menace of axis
>favorite dinosaur
brontosaurus
>ideal historical era
the 80's
>food for roleplaying
quesadillas
>greatest absurd fear
touching pictures in books
>weirdest thing you've eaten out of sheer laziness to cook
nothing that I recall
>favorite pokemon
Golurk
>definitive anime opening
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=bM9IvVH3pKE&pp=ygUQemV0YSBndW5kYW0gb3AgMg%3D%3D>Your favorite conspiracy theory:
Jews fund the LGBT movement
>What would you do if you woke up as the opposite sex for a day?:
go to the doctor
>Your most destructive unpopular opinion:
Code Geass is shit
>If you were a piece of furniture, which would you be and why?:
a table, because yes
>Rating of your current mental health from 1 to 10:
6
Rolero Magnetite-3cc707 No.10972 es
>>10919
The pterodactyl is not a dinosaur, but a pterosaur.
Damn amateurs.
Rolero Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10973 es
>>10972
ACM1Pterodactyl and suck my dick, make a crazy Jurassic park SAPEEEEE
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10974 es
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>>10940
>>10944
My pen moves up and down in slow, elegant strokes as I fill out the character sheet. I don't write immediately. First, I observe the world Kinoko has presented to us, trying to recall every detail she mentioned: the gods, the diseases, the decay, the pre-set characters to choose from, the things that seemed to exist solely to make a person wonder why the hell they were still alive.

>I wanted my character to belong to that world. I didn't want to just slap a sad backstory onto a generic warrior and call him dark. If I was going to play someone within Vermis, I wanted them to seem like they could have existed before I invented them. That they had a reason to walk those horrible paths. That their illness wasn't just an aesthetic feature, but something that determined how they ate, how they slept, how they spoke, how others looked at them, and, above all, how they understood their own existence.

>So I start with the name. I write it slowly, observing it for a few seconds. I don't know exactly who he is yet. I just know I want him to be someone who walks. A man who has been walking for too long and has probably already forgotten where he was supposed to be going. Then comes the god. Gurvek. I remember the diseases and deformities Kinoko had spoken of. Then I think of white urticaria. A horrible, visible, uncomfortable disease. One of those things that not only destroys the body, but makes others start looking at you as if you were something contaminated.

>That's where the burlap comes in. My pen moves again. A bag over the head. A small hole to see through. No face. No visible identity. I don't want anyone to know what expression he has. Whether he's crying, praying, smiling, or just breathing with difficulty, no one can tell.... also because it reminds me of Jason Voorhees. And the more I write, the more I like the idea that even he himself isn't entirely sure why he keeps walking.

"Yes."

"I like it."

>It was perhaps, too "edgy" or difficult to interpret because, well, he's "silent" but I liked it, I wanted to "be" that character now in this game, so I was satisfied with my quick creation. More than anything, I think because I've always wanted to roleplay dark fantasy, but never really had the opportunity, it had motivated me too much, although something wasn't entirely convincing me. But in all of that, I hadn't noticed Kinoko's analytical gaze.

>Somewhat shyly, I get up from my chair and hand my character sheet to Kinoko, and her reaction catches me off guard. She starts praising my sheet, and although my face remained serious, I definitely felt a bit embarrassed, but the cute kind of embarrassment, the kind that makes people blush and all that. I looked away, to avoid any strange reaction, but it felt good that someone else genuinely liked my sheet.
"Th-thanks"

>But there were some things about her compliment that unsettled me. "It's as if Plastiboo himself came down from heaven to write the profile with his own hands." I know she said that phrase with good intentions, as a compliment, but... it felt different to me. It was as if... the profile lacked real identity, I don't know how to explain it, but my body ended up taking it as criticism, not from her, but self-criticism. Although I also overthink things a lot, and I shouldn't. So I just smiled shyly and said thanks.

"...?"

>Then behind me, Hisao appears with his profile too. He holds out his profile and gives it to Kinoko, and I watch him curiously, though I couldn't see anything. The club leader starts to glance at the profile, with a rather kind demeanor, but with evident "displeasure," not in the sense of disgust, but in the sense of "This isn't my style, but thanks for doing it anyway," which is understandable because you can like what you like, not everything has to be for everyone, and she remained kind.

>Meanwhile, I had discreetly stood on my tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of what was on the profile, but just as my eyes finally managed to see something, a hand quickly grabbed the profile, not letting me see anything. It was Valdo, who began to look at the profile with a much more critical eye, and without mincing words, he gave his critique. Sincere criticisms, which I didn't agree with, but I respected; everyone had their opinions, and honestly, that wasn't going to get to me, or rather, I didn't care much about it. Although Hisao related it in a... not very nice way, it was evident that, intentional or not, his words were hurting him.

>Then Valdo hands me Hisao's profile. I finally had it in my hands, I was eager to read it, and my eyes were fixed on the page. My eyes slowly moved down the page, first scanning the name. "Cajaman, the recycling knight." I stared at those words for a few seconds, expressionless. Then I continued reading... Kingdom of Cereal Boxes. Behind the sofa. Cardboard armor. Round-tipped scissors. Boxing gloves for hugging. My right eyebrow twitched slightly, and I kept reading.

>At first, I'm looking for what I'm supposed to be reading. I try to find the logic behind the character, what kind of concept it's trying to convey, what its function is within a game of Vermis, and what relation all of this has to the scenario. But as I progress, I realize there isn't much to analyze. It's simply... a story. My eyes pause for a moment on the part about the Cat-Dragon. I read it again.

"A cat..."
>I lower my gaze again and continue. Sir Boxman doesn't fight. He doesn't try to defeat him, he doesn't look for a clever way to kill him, he doesn't even try to prove he's stronger. He does a little dance, gives him bread, and shares it with him. Then the cat falls asleep in his lap. I stare at that part for a few seconds longer than necessary, scratching my chin.

"....."

":....."

"..............:"

"Ah..."

>A moment of silence, until.... I get it. My eyes go back to the beginning. This time I read it all again, more slowly, read it, but really read it. The first time I was looking for character construction, like an architect looks at a blueprint, I wasn't analyzing it with my heart, like an artist looks at a work. Now I'm trying to understand the person who wrote it, and understand the character they wrote. And I find that much more interesting.

https://youtu.be/g_72RkQV25Y

>There's a big problem in modern art, and that's the intention to institutionalize it, formalize it, perfect it. You see it, for example, in paintings, as if it were an architectural blueprint. Color theory, perspective, dimensions, anatomy, etc. etc. etc., an endless place of rules to achieve perfect, cold synchrony. But where is the feeling in this? The passion, the essence, the creator's weapon? God didn't create us perfect, he created us with love, and love in modern art was lost.

>Nowadays there are perfect drawings and writings, perfect ones that make you feel absolutely nothing, because they aren't made with the projection of the creator's soul in them. If we analyze artists with that magnifying glass, Van Gogh and other great artists would be seen as mediocre or bad. Let's be honest, they didn't have that many gifts for drawing or painting, but their works transmit their soul, and that's why they are beautiful. If I want to see a hyperrealistic drawing of The Rock's face, you have talent and all, but it's boring, it doesn't transmit or make me feel anything, for that I look at a photo. But when the creativity of the soul is reflected in these things, it's something that made my heart beat. "But the perspective, but the color, but the anatomy" I don't care, it's not an architectural blueprint, it's an artistic work that made me feel more than your hyperrealistic image of a banana makes me feel, with all the perspective, anatomy, and color you want.

>The box armor isn't there because it's a particularly good armor. The sword and shield also don't have a complicated explanation. There are no curses, family tragedies, lost lineages, blood oaths, or an explanation for why such a strange knight exists in a world like this. It's cardboard. Literally cardboard. And yet, everything seems to have a pretty clear intention. This character doesn't want to cause harm.... and that makes me frown a little.
>I look back at Hisao for a moment and then return to the page. It's hard not to think about the difference between the two. The person in front of me seems to be permanently waiting for something bad to happen. He gets scared easily, apologizes for existing, talks about his parents as if suffering is a normal thing one simply has to learn to endure... and yet, when he has to imagine someone he'd like to be, he invents a knight made of cereal boxes who hugs his enemies... that's cute.

>My fingers adjust slightly on the edge of the paper.

"(It's weird.)"

>I say it almost to myself. I continue reading the ability... I fall silent. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't protect. It doesn't improve stats. It doesn't seem to have any particularly clever application, but it's exactly what the character does, it's authentic. Sir Cajaman doesn't win because he's stronger. He wins because he makes the other person stop wanting to fight.

>My eyes go back to the cat's sentence. "Sharing was the noblest act in the universe..." I repeat it mentally. Then I understand something that makes me freeze for a moment. This doesn't seem like a character sheet made to impress anyone. It doesn't even seem like it was made to prove Hisao knows how to write fantasy. It seems like he simply wrote down the first thing he actually wanted to play. That's... pretty hard to do.

>My eyes scan the lines again, this time without looking for mistakes. The story is simple. Very simple. The language is childish. The humor is strange. The idea of a knight made of cereal boxes is absurd and he'd probably have a hard time in a world like that.

>But I can't say it's bad, because I perfectly understand what it is. That makes me look at Hisao again, my expression remains serious, but my eyes no longer have the same coldness as before. It surprises me a little. I didn't expect someone like him to have such a... clean imagination. Not "clean" in the sense of being well-written. It isn't, at least not in a particularly sophisticated way. It's clean in another sense. There's no cruelty behind it. There's no desire for revenge. There's no fantasy of power hidden behind the character. He doesn't even try to become someone terrifying.

>After everything he's told me about his home, his parents, and the things they've done to him, I would have expected something different. Maybe an invincible character. A Kirito or someone who could return every blow. A knight who killed dragons and destroyed anyone who tried to hurt him. Something edgy and like that, or an evil being.

>But no.

>He chose Cajaman. A cardboard man who wants to hug everyone. My lips move slightly. It doesn't quite become a full smile.

"(He's quite innocent.)"

>I reread the last sentence...... "And they all lived happily ever after, this story is over." I stare at it... No, I contemplate that last part in silence.

https://youtu.be/30Ysa3A2WMU
>Absolute peak.

1/2
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10975 es
>>10974
2/2
>Then Valdo says his line, and I, after reading such a narrative work, had to do something about it. >>10953 I was honest, maybe I talked too much, something I realized after finishing, but the emotion of the moment made me forget those things, until I finished..

";,,"

"Excuse me, I talked too much"

>With that, Professor Jack >>10957 raises his hand, to share his opinion, in a more "Mediating" way, fulfilling his role as a professor better than... all or almost all the professors who work at this school, honestly.

<Can I say something? I understand Bonita-chan's point about letting Hisao express himself.......etc

"no no, I completely understand that Professor, and I agree"

"But that would be more of a critique on aesthetic details, or "logical" in the realism of the world"

"and it's not so much a problem with who the character is and their story"

"One cannot make a Clone trooper from Star Wars (unless they are looking for a too good way to justify it)"

"But those are details that are quickly corrected/edited later by the RollMaster."

"Something like 'maybe not cardboard, but wood or plush toys' and that sort of thing"

>>10962
>Then, Valdo reacts. Honestly, I thought he was going to take it badly, or that's what I was used to happening, sometimes I got excited in a moment, talked too much, and people took it badly, but no, surprisingly he didn't take it badly. I look at him confused, but grateful, that we reached an agreement of ideas in a way. I listen to his words and get a little nervous when he throws himself on the ground and praises us, but the guy with the bandages makes him get back up. He asks me to "teach" him more about true interpretation.... But, that cannot be taught, I can be wrong, I can be wrong about many things, and that is a path that is only achieved by following one's heart. There is no better teacher than oneself.

>After that, he goes to create his character sheet with more passion, and Kinoko starts to applaud, and give me some compliments... I'm bad at interpreting these things, I'm not very used to it, but I think it feels good.

<I NEED you to be the one to write an entire chapter of my manifesto!
"n-no no, I'm not good at it, forcing it looks bad"

"You write, I'll read"

>I say somewhat embarrassed, but with a slight smile on my face, until I notice Hisao approaching stealthily. I look at him confused, and hear what he wanted to tell me.

<I... really thank you very much for your words... I promise you I won't disappoint you nor will I get rid of my character sheet. I'll give it my all to interpret Cajaman just as I wanted to do from the beginning.

"You're welcome, thanks to you for making that character sheet"

"Yes, there's always time later to improve and all that"

"But there's also time to enjoy what's created, and to play"

>With that, I give a thumbs up, because it was time to roleplay.
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10977 es
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>>10966
-Rena listens intently to her president's words, the game had already begun, and although she understood most of the things, because she had already explained them to her, she still had a few doubts, so she raised her hand without shame to ask-

Excuse me, president, answer me this
1: How much extra damage does each point of intelligence cause? The same with Faith
2: The stone spindle gives me +5 Faith at the cost of sacrificing half my life, and a well-done spell costs 2 points of Faith, is there a way to increase the Faith meter or is this something that just restores itself? Like life in Uncharted
3: Will you buy me a drink? I can pay you back later

-After asking her basic questions to the president, Rena turns to look at Katsumi-

Shall we go together? I have no idea where to go, I'm not good at making decisions when there are multiple options, so I could follow you, wait, let me ask you again.

-Rena closes her eyes, concentrating, imagining the scenario, a gloomy cemetery with fog, surrounded by a forest, where the giant skeleton of what was once a god can be seen in the background-

IN GAME

Rena: Samanta Salem awakens in her coffin, surrounded by the stench of death, or in the case of those present, the stench of unlife, she notices her belongings are beside her, she picks up her staff and her bone stone, the latter she puts in her bag, she wouldn't use it yet.
Although she has returned to a plane close to life, her sight has not, but guided by knowledge, she recognizes that she is not alone.

Samanta: Identify yourselves, lost sheep on the path of suffering souls, we rise once more for a whim, we share nothing more than the fate of death and being gathered here, I do not demand your company, our paths are something we choose ourselves, but it is well known that unity is strength, but I will understand if you prefer to go alone than in bad company, solitary is the path of wandering souls.

May DORVUS bless you with the wisdom you will gather on this journey...

Rena: Then Samanta gets out of the coffin, taps the ground with her staff, she can see the terrain in 3D in her head, then her staff hits something, something big, she thinks it's a statue, her senses must still be sharpening after waking up, upon placing her hand on the cold armor she discovers it is a knight

Samanta: Honorable Warrior, fighter of a thousand battles, I hope not to be a bother, guided by my curiosity, I ask which path you wish to take and if you don't mind company.

Rena: so, will you accompany me? -she asked with a hopeful tone in her voice-

Rena: anyway, the invitation is for everyone, that's why I read it aloud, if anyone wants to join we will form a group to advance, although I should see their character sheets first, since I only read Katsumi's

>>10976
It's more likely she'll react like this:
https://youtu.be/jrjaVAfm7Jc?si=cUDNaoIvuo9MOPwNand pull out a pack of gum from her shell
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.10978 es
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>>10974
>>10975
>Kinoko was utterly moved, reduced to an unbroken sea of tears after witnessing such a masterclass on the essence of roleplaying. The president's sobs echoed through every corner of the classroom as she wiped her face with her uniform sleeves, overwhelmed by a pure and uncontrollable emotion. She kept her gaze fixed on Bonita-chan, shaking her head between dramatic gasps and gushing tears that fell like genuine waterfalls.

Kinoko: No... no, please, never stop! I'd rather have my own tongue ripped out than stop hearing the wisdom flowing from your lips, Bonita-chan! I swear it by the dice! I haven't cried this heart-wrenchingly since that legendary session last year with the club's former members! That marathon game lasted three entire days without pause and left me completely shattered inside, my mental health in pieces! But today... today I cry again because I can feel my heart beating with incredible strength. I can feel how the SOUL of true roleplaying shines flawlessly and purely in every single word you speak!

>Overwhelmed by gratitude, the president began making exaggerated bows one after another, bending her back at a ninety-degree angle while repeating her thanks in an almost euphoric manner. Her round glasses slid down the bridge of her nose from sweat and tears, but she didn't seem to care at all.

Kinoko: Thank you so much! Truly, thank you so very much for deciding to join this humble roleplaying club! If, at any point in the future, a wave of natural inspiration hits you, a revelation as brilliant as the one you've just delivered before us all, then please, I beg you: take a sheet of paper and write down every single thought. And if you're willing, hand it to me so I can turn your words into a stellar chapter. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow or next week, but when that burning love and overflowing passion knock on your door again, don't hesitate for a second—write it down. I'll be waiting for you with open arms and tremendous anticipation!

>She didn't want to force anything at all. She didn't intend to impose tasks or rigid commitments; she simply wished for the chance to read or hear her reflections, to once again experience that pure feeling, that renewed devotion to storytelling and the deeply artistic world surrounding roleplaying. As she spoke those words with an almost sacred devotion, she gave Bonita-chan several pats on the shoulder. They weren't hard or aggressive hits, but carried enough firmness to convey all the passion and positive energy burning within the black-haired girl's chest.

>Meanwhile, Hisao remained to the side, nodding his head countless times without uttering a single sound toward Bonita-chan. A huge lump had formed in his throat, preventing him from speaking after everything he'd just heard. With moist eyes and held breath, the black-haired boy glanced sideways at the silver-haired girl and quickly raised his thumb, attempting to convey a silent gesture of approval. Then, he turned on his heel to take his seat before the session officially began.

>He had barely taken a single step when Hisao froze in place. He stood completely still, his gaze fixed on the floor tiles. Finally, gathering unusual courage, he dared to break the silence. His words had nothing to do with formally thanking her for Bonita-chan's defense, nor with promising to improve as a player or become a great team at the table. The small boy, keeping his back turned to her, uttered an extremely simple phrase.

Hisao: I like to write...
>The boy paused briefly to take a breath. Bonita-chan couldn't see his face at that moment, only the silhouette of his hunched back and the gentle movement of his uniform. However, Hisao's tone of voice changed drastically: it no longer sounded paralyzed by nerves or trembling with panic. His voice sounded infinitely more serious, honest, transparent, and open.

Hisao: I've liked writing since I was a very young child... More than anything, I liked inventing short stories, fables with animals, and little poems. The truth is, I don't know anything about role-playing games, nor do I know how to write complex stories with elegant terms. I've never been interested in reading a real literature book or philosophy. The most complex thing I've ever read in my life is The Little Prince... and having read it makes me feel immensely happy. I really like it a lot. Writing is the only thing that truly makes me happy... that's why I decided to gather my courage and come join this club. I thought maybe here I could write with complete confidence, with the distant hope of finding someone who liked what came out of my mind. I was only looking for that... that someone could enjoy my little stories and tales. That someone could feel a little joy when reading what I write and that they could perceive that little piece of my soul that I always leave in every line. I'm not ashamed to show my stories to others... the truth is, I just don't like bothering anyone. I don't like being a burden or a nuisance to people... but I'm truly very happy to have found someone who can understand what's behind my writing.

>He continued speaking with a fluency he had never shown since entering the classroom. The warmth in his words reflected a deeply innocent, tender, resilient, and moving personality.
Hisao: I'm going to keep writing... In fact, right now I'm going to write a short story to put on the club's bulletin board while the session starts, so... you can read it if you're curious. I don't want to force you to read my stuff or pretend you have to like it, don't worry. Only if you want to... you can read it and enjoy it for a moment. Just with that I would feel like I did something truly worthwhile.

>The dark-haired boy fell silent for a moment and thanked her again, but this time with genuine confidence and real gratitude that came straight from the bottom of his heart. At that moment, Hisao finally turned completely to face Bonita-chan.

>As she turned around, the silver-haired girl could see the boy's impeccable expression. Hisao held one hand raised near his chin, his fingers slightly bent in a shy pose as he scratched the lower part of his nose. His large dark eyes shone with a mixture of absolute innocence and purity, looking to the side to avoid direct eye contact. A burning and extremely marked blush covered his cheeks and nose, extending to the bandages on his face. His eyebrows were slightly arched upwards and his lips formed a small, silly, heated curve, an honest smile of genuine happiness that he couldn't contain in any way.

Hisao: Cajaman will hug your cotton penitent a lot... I promise.

>Without waiting for a single word of response from Bonita-chan and feeling his face burn at extreme temperatures, Hisao turned around at full speed and awkwardly ran off to find a seat to wait for the official start of the game. The bandaged boy decided to sit in a place quite far from Lebedeve; he didn't do it for any negative reason or resentment, but because he felt tremendous pity sitting next to pretty girls, and even more so if it was a pretty girl who had just said such profound words that made his heart beat a thousand miles an hour, not out of the usual terror, but out of warm and absolute happiness.
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>>10969
>>10977

Katsumi: I-It's just not that simple to treat constipation, you know? The last time I had a bad attack... I broke a toilet in half with my strength. And it was one of those expensive smart ones, so my dad scolded me a lot.

>The giant sighed deeply and looked at Rena for a few seconds. She perfectly heard everything the girl said about her autism and depression, but she preferred not to comment on it. It wasn't out of insensitivity; the truth was that Katsumi didn't feel emotionally capable enough to address such delicate topics. She could barely deal with her own daily insecurities and dilemmas, let alone try to carry others' problems.

Katsumi: Look... I have my thermos with plain water, but it's half full. I can give it to you if you want to drink some... of course, if you're not grossed out by my saliva.

>She took the thermos out of the side pocket of her backpack and gently placed it within Rena's reach. Then, she observed the pills the girl was offering her. Katsumi frowned slightly, looking at the medication with clear distrust, as if doubting the effects of that substance.

Katsumi: Ah... d-don't be offended, really, but I prefer to refuse the pills. I like to feel good naturally, without depending on something artificial... Just like President Kinoko, I think life isn't exactly beautiful, but well, we're alive now and there's nothing else to do but fight to achieve the best possible life. But I prefer to do it by my own means, maybe with the support of the people I love, but without medicine. Besides, self-medicating is super dangerous.

>She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, letting out a short laugh before hearing Rena's story about her family. Her face went through a rollercoaster of emotions: first, she put on an expression of pure shock upon learning that Rena's mom got pregnant at fifteen; then she gave an extremely awkward smile when she heard that the father kept cheating on his mother; and finally, she looked at Rena with a face of pity and affliction upon learning that, due to a confusion of names by her father, her sister ended up living in Kyoto while Rena ended up in Kamome. Despite feeling deep sadness and shock at Rena's family background, she preferred to keep it to herself and focus her attention on the photograph they showed her.

Katsumi: Wow! Your mom is really beautiful... Now I perfectly understand who you inherited that beauty from. Although, it seems only your sister inherited her skin tone, but she also looks very cute... I don't have any photos of my mom

>However, upon hearing that Rena's mother had knocked out a thief with her fists, Katsumi swallowed.

Katsumi: By the way... my laugh is ugly! And... hey, is it true what they say about them selling tacos made with dog meat there? I saw that rumor on an iceberg of curious facts about Mexico.
>Suddenly, the giantess was hit by another fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as she corrected the girl between guffaws.

Katsumi: Pfft! Haha, haha! Rena, you're getting it so wrong! Pirates of the Caribbean is a Disney movie franchise, not an actual baseball team!

>After catching her breath, she sighed and looked out the clubroom window.

Katsumi: But yeah... Osaka's become quite a complicated place to live. So many immigrants have been arriving lately. Not that I hate foreigners or anything—far from it—but things aren't like the rest of Japan anymore... They're literally building a mosque super close to my house! But anyway... we should go to Tokyo together someday. I have cousins there; if you use my mom's surname, there probably won't be any issues.

>She clasped her hands together with genuine delight.

Katsumi: I bet your mom and my dad would get along wonderfully! But seriously, I'm begging you, please—no violence! I literally feel nauseous when I see people hitting each other... It makes me feel awful.

>She glanced toward the club's main table and smiled peacefully.

Katsumi: I don't think the president will reject your ideas. She's happy to have so many members this year. Last year, I remember there were only seven members, and out of all of them, only Ichinose-san remained...

>Upon hearing Rena's comment about the minions, Katsumi's smile grew even sweeter.

Katsumi: Well, I still absolutely love minions because I'm fascinated by small, cute, and adorable things... just like you!

>With an affectionate gesture, she gently patted Rena's head with her enormous hands, each one exactly the size of a professional catcher's mitt.

>At that very moment, without warning, Rena stretched out her hands and began openly groping the giantess's breasts. Katsumi froze in place. Her face instantly flushed a scorching crimson, and she nearly let out a shriek of sheer embarrassment. However, before she could react, Rena unleashed a verbal "smokescreen," showering her with a rapid barrage of sweet words and compliments. Completely disarmed, Katsumi didn't know what to do or say, left paralyzed as she allowed the girl to grope her chest.

Katsumi: "T-Thank you so much... Rena-chan..."

>She bit her lower lip, immersed in a mix of shock and shyness. Despite Katsumi's sturdy, athletic build, her breasts were notably plump, large, and full; they possessed the perfect proportion of firmness and natural fat for a large-scale athletic body, resulting in a pair of exaggeratedly soft, squishy, and warm attributes to the touch.
>When Rena finally withdrew her hands, Katsumi whispered "angel" to her. Rena seemed to undergo an operating system reboot in her mind for a few seconds, then immediately lunged forward, hugged the giant, and buried her face directly into the warmth of Katsumi's chest. The amazon, sensing no ill intent, simply stroked her hair with those gigantic trucker hands.

>The sharp clap of Kinoko's hand against the table echoed in the room, making Rena react like a spring and start shouting praises to Katsumi at the top of her lungs. The entire club fell into a deathly silence, listening to every word. President Kinoko's face showed absolute surprise; she hadn't expected such an outburst, but with feline reflexes, she pulled out her camera and took an instant photo of the moment.

>Katsumi was completely shattered by embarrassment. Not only did her face look like a boiled tomato; the tide of blush violently spread across her neck, chest, and ears. She covered her face with both hands, unable to return to normal as easily as Rena. With her heart pounding a mile a minute against her ribs, the giant just wished the earth would swallow her whole right then and there.

>Around her, reactions were swift. Kuma was biting his clenched fist with blatant envy. Yowai watched them with a mischievous and mocking smile, as if silently singing that they loved each other, kissed, and shared gum. The rest of the club members simply observed the scene with a pure and unadulterated mix of impression and absolute surprise.

>...

>She cleared her throat with a theatrical rasp, recomposing her posture to adopt a more sober and professional voice, worthy of a true Game Master.

Kinoko: Alright, answering your technical questions about the character sheet... Every 2 points of Intelligence grant you a +1 to magic damage, and 2 points of Faith are equivalent to a +5 to accuracy on your spell rolls. Something similar happens with physical stats: 2 points of Strength give you +1 to physical damage and 2 points of Willpower add +5 to accuracy. In the specific case of your Stone Scholar sheet, you currently have a +2 on your d20 for damage calculation and a +10 on your d50 for accuracy rolls. Always remember that distinction: the d20 determines the impact's power and the d50 its aim.

>She adjusted her glasses with her fingertip.

Kinoko: A crucial detail: Faith points are automatically restored at the start of each combat, but health is not. This isn't Uncharted where you hide behind cover and magically heal. That's why I recommend reserving the Stone Bone only for extreme life-or-death situations. Otherwise, your stone staff works perfectly for melee combat, and you won't waste your spells.
>Right after, Kinoko reached into her backpack and pulled out a bottle of Squirt grapefruit soda, placing it on the table in front of the girl. However, before letting go, the president gave an extremely smug and flirtatious smile, leaning in with a tone laden with innuendo.

Kinoko: Here’s this soda for you… ALTHOUGH… I don’t know if you’d rather try Katsumi’s SQUIRT

>She brazenly pointed at the giantess’s thermos, making a clear and perverted allusion to the amazon’s orgasmic fluid. Upon hearing the president’s joke, Katsumi perfectly understood the gag and covered her face with both hands again.

>Katsumi tried to compose her voice to say something, but she preferred to remain silent upon observing what Rena was trying to do. The giant girl took a breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and upon reopening them, she modulated her voice to begin roleplaying. Surprisingly, she produced an incredibly masculine, deep, and grave voice, similar to that of a tough guy from Japanese action movies of the Showa era. Katsumi began narrating her turn, trying her best to sound like a professional roleplayer.

Katsumi: The stone floor of the tomb cracks with a dry roar. From among the remains of a forgotten sarcophagus, the figure of Thorgar of Skellgard rises. The first thing the horned knight does is deliver a devastating blow with his enormous warhammer against his own tombstone, reducing it to rubble out of sheer frustration caused by the bitter memories of his past… As he turns, his eyes fix on the little witch who calls herself Samanta.

>She gave a soft tap on the table to simulate the warrior’s steps.

Katsumi: Thorgar regards the creature with suspicion. The horned knight was an extremely proud, stubborn, and hard-headed man; a fierce warrior who saw no reward in the company of other reanimated corpses… Therefore, he approaches you and confronts you despite being four times your height. He is not rude to the little witch, but he is terribly proud.

>She slightly changed her tone to interpret her character’s direct voice.

Katsumi: Why the hell should I be accompanied by a brat like you? I have defeated entire armies and fearsome conquerors with the power of my hammer… If I set my mind to it, I could march solo to the capital without breaking a sweat. My combat intuition tells me the most sensible option would be to delve into the catacombs… but in life, I heard rumors that the cemetery tower guards the treasures of old fallen heroes, so we could investigate there for something useful… But tell me, little witch: give me one single valid reason to accept your company. If you manage to convince me, I will not hesitate to follow you to the very ends of the earth.

>Suddenly, Katsumi’s male voice broke into a fit of dry coughs.

Katsumi: A-Aych… Cough, cough! Sorry… my throat hurts a lot from speaking so deep…

What AI do you use for your images, little player?
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>>10971
>The sunset sun dyed the sky over Kamome High School a dense, bloody orange, casting endless shadows over the outer corridors and the lush campus gardens. The silence in the place was absolute, dense, and almost oppressive; the tide of students had receded hours ago, leaving behind an eerily empty labyrinth of concrete and glass. That acceptance letter for the teaching position, which had seemed so hopeful a couple of days ago, now felt like a bureaucratic trap in the midst of an imposing and unknown territory. Looking for the teachers' lounge or the principal's office had become an odyssey where every corner led to another deserted expanse.

The school map >>10939 and Kamome's hierarchy >>10412

>After several wrong turns, the path opened into a central plaza presided over by an imposing stone figure. Before the eyes of any visitor stood the statue of Ragyo Nishinomiya, a female figure with majestic gestures and stylized wings carved from rock, whose hair stood out with a multicolored engraving that caught the last rays of light. At the monument's feet, a golden plaque gleamed with a pompous inscription: "Ragyo Nishinomiya, CEO of REVOC Inc. and founder of the respectable Kamome High School," flaunting the private funding and technology that supported the walls of that institution.

>However, the real point of interest was not the majestic sculpture, but the small human gathering taking place right under its shadow.

>Three figures wearing formal teacher attire shared a single cigarette in a slow, somber rotation. The scene conveyed a mixture of desperate camaraderie and shared misery, revealing in an almost comical way that the salary at Kamome wasn't enough for each teacher to have their own pack. They smoked, passing the cigarette with resigned familiarity, absorbed in their own conversation, unaware that someone was nearby listening to their every word.

>One of them was Hidetoshi Ishii, a young man with black hair tied in an elegant ponytail and a melancholic gaze. Beside him was Hiiragi Kotono, a woman with black hair tied up, red-rimmed glasses, and a rigid posture that projected an aura of bitter severity. The last member of the group was Verity Hightower, a striking blonde woman with a cowboy hat that contrasted with the group's somber tone thanks to a wide smile and an overflowing energy that bordered on the exaggerated.
Hiiragi: I still say that Teacher Yui's situation wasn't a suicide. It's absurd. We all know perfectly well that those thugs from the Gurentai gang were involved.

Verity Hightower: Oh, come on, Hiiragi... Yui was an excellent teacher, but she had too much heart for this crazy place. Although... I must admit I share your suspicion.

>Verity exclaimed the above, adjusting her hat before taking a deep drag from the shared cigarette and exhaling the smoke with a dramatic sigh.

Hiiragi: She was too good a person. And too close to a certain colleague here present...

>Hiiragi shot a sideways glance at Ishii, who remained silent, staring intently at the tobacco's embers.

Ishii: Don't start that again. We were just colleagues. Stop inventing romances where there was only professional respect.

Hiiragi: Whatever you say, Ishii. The point is, this high school is going downhill. Every day the students are more out of control. One of these days, those riff-raff are going to rebel completely and slit our throats in the middle of the hallway. I should have gotten a job at a normal private school.

Verity: Good luck with that, dear. Where would you go? None of us have a clean record or the connections to get out of this hole. We're tied to this divine punishment for life. Being a teacher is the most thankless profession in the universe.

Ishii: Eventually, all the garbage accumulated in Kamome is going to explode... and we're going to go down with the building.

>Verity took the cigarette one last time, letting out a relaxed chuckle as she handed the filter back to Ishii.

Verity: Anyway, thanks a lot for sharing the tobacco, Ishii. This is the only thing that calms my nerves until I get paid and can buy my... supplies.

Hiiragi: You're part of the problem, Verity. You feed the Mikkoku-kai gang by buying substances from them. It's pathetic.

Verity: Hey! No judgment! I can't teach or be a functional human being without my daily dose of relief. If I don't get high, the traumas from the divine war come back to my head and I start screaming in the middle of the history exam.

Ishii: Shh... Both of you, shut up.

>Ishii stopped mid-inhale. As he rounded the statue, his gaze locked directly with the presence of the newcomer. The teacher flinched slightly, letting out a small puff of smoke in surprise.

Ishii: Wait a minute... Aren't you Kumiko Oumae? Jason's wife L-
>The impact of that question didn't last a second in the air. With lightning speed and the violence of a spring, Hiiragi delivered a brutal elbow strike directly to Ishii's ribs. The blow resonated in the young man's stomach, causing him to double over with a choked groan.

Hiiragi: Shut your mouth, you insensitive idiot!

>Hiiragi adjusted her glasses coldly as she looked at the newcomer with a serious but polite expression.

Hiiragi: Miss Kumiko Prime. Please excuse my colleague, his manners were left behind on the morning shift. We were notified that a new teacher would be coming to reinforce the staff, although they didn't specify the exact time. Welcome to Kamome High School. I hope you can be comfortable here... and free from everything you left behind.

Verity: Welcome to hell, buddy! It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.

>Ishii slowly recovered, rubbing the hit area with his face contorted in pain, but maintaining his calm composure once he managed to stand up.

Ishii: Sorry... Welcome, Miss Prime.

>Observing him up close, Ishii's presence exuded a strangely familiar aura. He had that sober, attentive, and protective air that Kumiko's husband once had in his younger years; those distant days when they swore eternal love and fantasized about having a family so large they could form an entire soccer team. Memories of promises that time and circumstances eventually broke.

>Ishii stepped forward kindly, showing genuine concern.

Ishii: You seem a bit disoriented. Do you need help finding anything? The campus is huge and at this hour it's easy to get lost... My name is Ishii, the one with glasses is Hiiragi, and the foreigner is Verity.

Verity: Foreigner your mother!!!

>While Ishii spoke impeccably and respectfully, Hiiragi and Verity subtly leaned towards each other behind his back, exchanging muffled whispers and knowing glances, acting as if they had already deduced ill intentions in the teacher's kindness.

>Before the conversation could progress, the echo of firm, heavy footsteps resounded on the pavement.

Teresa: Can you explain what the hell you're still doing here?!

>The voice was harsh, authoritarian, and dominant. It belonged to the vice-principal, Teresa Del Toro, a woman with dark skin, a military haircut, and a stern facial expression that seemed carved in granite. Her mere presence lowered the temperature of the place by several degrees.
Verity: Oh, nothing, vice principal... We were just watching Ishii try to hit on the new married teacher.

Ishii: Shut your mouth, Verity!

Hiiragi: Ms. Prime just arrived at the institution, vice principal. She was lost looking for directions.

>Teresa Del Toro raised an eyebrow, fixing an intimidating gaze on the group.

Teresa: You're late. The principal's office is closed for the day. The principal is currently "talking" behind closed doors with last year's top student, so he won't see anyone else. Ms. Prime, report tomorrow first thing to sign your paperwork and start your assigned classes without fail.

>The vice principal didn't wait for a response and adjusted her jacket with a sharp movement.

Teresa: The rest of you, clear the area immediately. I have an urgent and confidential meeting with the disciplinary committee. Go home or to your assigned clubs. Now.

>Without giving them a chance to reply, the woman turned and walked away with a firm step towards the main building.

>Ishii dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and put it out with the sole of his shoe. Then, he looked at Kumiko with a friendly smile, completely oblivious to the mocking glances his two colleagues were throwing at his back.

Ishii: Well, it looks like the paperwork will have to wait until tomorrow. If you'd like, I can give you a ride home in my car, I have it parked very close by. It's getting late and the area gets a bit dangerous at night... We could also go for a drink, I mean, since we'll be colleagues.

Verity: I'm in!

Hiiragi: I should go to my club but screw it, I'm in if Ms. Prime is in.

Ishii: I'll invite the other teachers then. What do you say, Kumiso-san?

>Ishii's offer hung in the air. However, amidst the exhaustion and the dimming sunset, a memory flashed through Kumiko's mind: the strident words, the extravagant flyer, and the overflowing energy of Kinoko Ichinose, the hyperactive president of the Absolute Role-Playing Club for Metaverse Transcendence. You remembered the location the girl had mentioned with such fervor: the abandoned room right behind the gym. You recall running into that peculiar girl with bottle-bottom glasses the day you arrived at Kamome for the job interview, which you coincidentally had with the vice principal because the principal was also busy "talking" with, precisely, Professor Yui, the one who took her own life...

>Ishii's car for a drink, go home and rest, or the strange role-playing club hideout behind the gym.
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>A crumpled and recycled sheet as it has chemistry class notes on the back.

Cotton the Bunny and the Grumpy Tree

Once upon a time, in a very beautiful forest where the clouds looked like cotton candy and the grass was as soft as a pillow, there lived a little bunny named Cotton. Cotton was the kindest bunny in the whole universe, he had fluffy ears, and his little paws went "thump-thump-thump" every time he jumped for joy. He loved to wake up very early to say good morning to the butterflies, the little ants, and even the water droplets on the plants. If someone sneezed, he would rush over just to say "Bless you, get well soon!" and give them a handkerchief embroidered with a heart. That's how nice our little friend was!

But in the middle of the forest lived Mr. Grumpy Tree. Mr. Tree was big, with dark wood, and had eyebrows of dry leaves that were always messy because he lived angry. He didn't like the little birds singing in his branches, nor did he like the sun giving him light. Imagine how awful it was to be so bitter! But kind little Cotton wasn't afraid of him, because he knew in his little heart full of goodness that no one is bad inside, they just need a little love as sweet as hot chocolate.

One beautiful day, Cotton decided to undertake a very special mission: he was going to make Mr. Tree smile to be friends forever! He grabbed his little basket, put in three yellow daisies, a cookie shaped like a happy little star, and walked making "thump-thump-thump". When he arrived, he jumped high, bowed, and said with a cheerful voice: "Hello, Mr. Tree! Today is a great day to be alive and be kind! I brought you a gift because I love you a lot."

Mr. Tree wrinkled his trunk, shook his branches, and said in an ugly voice: "Bah! Go away, silly bunny. I don't like flowers, and I don't like happy people. I like being alone and bitter." But Cotton didn't get sad. He closed his little eyes and hugged the rough trunk of the tree with his two little paws, giving it a warmth so cozy it felt like a wool blanket.

While hugging him, Cotton sang a little song: "Green leaves, wooden trunk, friendship is beautiful in the spring, smile a little, don't be grumpy, I give you a hug with all my heart!". Mr. Tree felt a funny tickle go up his wood. It was the power of kindness! For the first time, he felt like laughing, and suddenly... boom! A gigantic smile appeared on his bark! And all his branches filled with colorful flowers that smelled like bubblegum.

Mr. Tree cried with emotion and said: "Forgive me, little bunny! I don't want to be a bitter tree anymore, I want to give shade to all the little animals!". And so, Cotton and Mr. Tree became the best friends in the world and ate cookies together.

Moral: If you give a hug and a smile to angry people, their hearts will fill with little flowers and kindness, because love always wins over an ugly face!
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>>10956
<You gave me an idea for a Rambo or Solid Snake type character, but with magical artifacts.

“Maybe it can be done in a future roleplay.”

>I laugh looking at the president, already planning my next moves.

She watches the video up close, which makes her jump out of her chair impressed.

“N-No way, they almost killed each other, i-it's the most epic fight I've ever seen, Do you want us to do something like them? Maybe I won't achieve it, they look like experts.”

<I think it will be the best way to start, I need a suit, and a wand, when I get home I'll look for fabric and metal.

“It will be an honor to have you, now it's time to roleplay”

>She says, pulling out her impressive character sheet and running towards the table.

>>10957
>Bibi lets herself be massaged and almost falls to the ground in pleasure as all the tension in her small body disappears, not because of her breasts, because she was flatter than an airstrip, but because she was incredibly powerful, and due to massive stress.

“Miracles…”

>>10961
<You are the type of erudite roleplayer who prefers to consume three-hour videos about the hidden history of a world rather than touch the controller.

“It seems like you know us very well Senpai, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but it's true, I know all the lore of Deltarune but I've never played it.”

>She laughs, blushing. Although Kinoko called her sick, it was a tremendous blow to her pride. She couldn't respond out of shame for having to tell the truth.

<I no longer hear your prayers!

>Her chest, which had been inflated, quickly deflated and she fell to her knees in the most anime-like fashion. Luckily, her chest was so flat that she had no trouble putting her hands in the middle.

“I… see… So she will be called Tanya Uspenskaya… And she will be the last priestess of a cult that took her in as a child because prophecies said she would be the mother of their incarnated God, but everything went terribly wrong, and now she is completely alone, and her God could not be resurrected, she has not been defiled by this world, she is pure like Artemis and Hestia.”

>The crazier the name and lore, the better, besides, it matches Hotaru's character, both are mothers who failed.

<I'm more lost than a little Chinese girl in the middle of a dense forest. This is my character. Her name is Beatrice.

“You did very well for being new, Hotaru. I spent a long time trying until I figured out how to do it. I'm sure you'll have a great time. It's one of those hobbies I thought you'd like, even if it's all very confusing. Besides, Beatrice is incredible, a character a professional would have made.”
>Cheers for Hotaru.

<What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Mine is strawberry...

>Is Hotaru-chan jealous? She looks cute, but I didn't want her to feel bad either. She likes to step on people, but not make them sad. She was a sadist, not a sociopath.

"Then I see the mural, it's good to find out everything, plus here you're sure to find out whatever's happening at school, there's everything, oh right, the ice cream, mine is..."

>Looks at Hotaru with her blue hair and laughs a little.

"Bubblegum or cookies and cream."

<Only Plutosney and Nextflix make them. What I did was turn him into a dwarf. Look!

"Are you more into dwarves? Who would have thought, I thought you'd be more into elves, but he looks great, surely he made that armor himself, he must be very strong to lift it."



>Laughs a little at what happened to Valdo and pats him on the back several times.

"With sweat, tears, and suffering, you'll surely manage to create a great character, you just need to give your 101% mentally, humans are great at overcoming difficulties, and you are human."

>Keeps cheering him on for a while until Kinoko calls them to sit down.

>>10966
Bibi: "Hmmmm..."

>Clears her throat and deepens it, worthy of an underworld being.

>Tanya [Speaking in character here, obviously says the actions out loud]
>I get up, confused by everything that was happening, had everything I believed in failed? Why was I dead? Since when? Before I could even compose myself, I start hearing the others get up, fearful of their actions against me, I decide to take everything I have and stand up.

Tanya: "Were we revived by necromancy? Or was it something fortuitous?"

>Before continuing, I touch the shit head and pet it.

Tanya: "Oh my great God, do you know where we are? Did someone other than me bring us back to life to continue your great calling?"

>Tanya almost falls to her knees, excited just thinking that her loving God revived her, yes, surely it was that.

>>10979
Tanya: Tower... Yes... We can't just escape from here, they would kill us in the forest, we need to find things to protect ourselves with, I agree for now, besides, going down to the catacombs of a cemetery isn't the best option... We could end up dead again."

>Bibi
>As she says this, she gets into a Zen position and starts as if praying, although in reality she's just saying random words.
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10983 es
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>>10979
>Katsumi: I-It's just that treating constipation isn't that simple, you know? The last time I had a bad attack... I broke a toilet in half with the force. And it was one of those expensive smart ones, so my dad scolded me a lot.
....If you try to make an scatological humor joke, I give it a 6 out of 10, heh -Rena laughs lightly, it wasn't her type of humor, she barely tolerated Billy & Mandy, but Canadian cartoons went too far with fart jokes, but well, Japan isn't far behind either-
it's not my type of humor

>Katsumi: Look... I have my thermos with plain water, but it's half full. I can give it to you if you want to drink some... of course, if you're not grossed out by my saliva.
I'm not grossed out, thank you very much, I'll bring mine tomorrow, I feel like drinking mate with cookies, I'll invite you -and so Rena drank from the small thermos- thank you

>Katsumi: Ah... d-don't be offended, really, but I prefer to refuse the pills. I like to feel good naturally, without depending on something artificial... Just like President Kinoko, I think life isn't exactly beautiful, but well, we're alive here and there's nothing else to do but fight to get the best possible life. But I prefer to do it by my own means, maybe with the support of the people I love, but without medicine. Besides, self-medicating is super dangerous.
okay, I understand, and I don't self-medicate, my depression is clinical
-She shows you the prescription for the pills-
But now I'm fine, if I remember correctly, feeling happy was similar to how I feel now being able to talk about what I like and about to roleplay

>Katsumi: Wow! Your mom is really very pretty... Now I perfectly understand who you inherited that beauty from. Although, it seems only your sister inherited her skin tone, but she also looks very cute... I don't have any photos of my mom
thank you, I'll tell her you said that.... do you have a bicycle or a means of transport? or your dad? I liked you, so if you have any, give me the license plates, so they don't end up in mom's workshop... not illegally, of course
-She says while smiling and returning her thermos-
but if you do, I'll tell mom to give them a discount if you ever need a mechanic

-After eating the last lemon cookie, Rena throws the wrapper in a trash can, and then thinks about what the giant said, that she doesn't have a photo of her mom-
You probably took her face, because you don't have your dad's face
-Was that a compliment? For Rena, yes, more basic than calling her pretty, I mean, it was obvious-

>Katsumi: By the way... my laugh is ugly! And... hey, is it true what they say about selling tacos made with dog meat there? I saw that rumor on an iceberg of curious facts about Mexico.
No, that's in China, in Mexico it's donkey meat, rat meat, and if the taco lady's husband stops showing up, then it's human meat, anyway, if I ever ate human meat I wouldn't know, but I've always been curious, although if people were pastries, I would be a cannibal...
-Like a cartoon scene, Rena imagined Katsumi as food, but instead of a succulent ham or roasted chicken, she imagined her as a Christmas cookie-
About your laugh, I should hear it again, will you let me tickle you? since I'm not good at telling jokes, because the only one I know is my life....that was the joke

>Katsumi: Pfft! Ha, ha, ha! Rena, you're getting really confused! Pirates of the Caribbean is a Disney movie saga, not a real baseball team!
Ok, you laugh well, normal, heh
-Rena closed her eyes, still with a small smile on her face-
I admit my mistake, but Jack Sparrow would be a good player on any team, I don't doubt that

>Katsumi: But yes... Osaka has become a pretty complicated place to live. So many immigrants are arriving lately. It's not that I hate gaijin, not at all, but things aren't like the rest of Japan anymore... They're literally building a mosque very close to my house! But well... we should go to Tokyo together someday. I have cousins there; if you use my mom's last name, I'm sure there won't be any problems.
A mosque?
-Rena imagined a giant mosquito net-
Is that something bad? mosquitoes are bad, they are bloodsuckers, literally, like little vampires, only these can give you AIDS from another.
About immigrants, I can't blame them, since I myself am one, but I don't know how screwed up a country has to be for you to screw up another by escaping from it, it's not the immigrants' fault in itself, it would be the system that is rotten, that's how I see it, many immigrate to seek an opportunity, but with them also come the scum, those who seek that opportunity but to do evil, to commit crimes, why do you think the narcos arrived in Japan before the bomb? the yakuza was dying and losing respect, ironically by becoming more violent and less respected and now everything is fucked up, at least that's what mom taught me

>Katsumi: I bet your mom and my dad would get along wonderfully! That said... please, I'm asking you, let there be no violence! They really make me genuinely nauseous when I see people hitting each other... I feel super bad.
mmmm mom doesn't use violence if it's not necessary, but, if your father is handsome, you wouldn't see him for 3 days, mom likes to hunt men, and she always liked older ones, as she says "I'm not a girl who messes with kids, I like dilfs", although she's almost 37 years old

>Katsumi: I don't think the president will reject your ideas. She's happy to have so many members this year. Last year I remember there were only seven members, and of all of them only Ichinose-san remained.
You've been here since last year?
-Rena rests her elbow on the table and stares intently at Katsumi-
What made you join?

>Katsumi: Well, I still love the minions because I'm fascinated by small, cute, and pretty things... like you!
https://youtu.be/tnROqOCwVVY?si=KtSkPdrJ7QHbGE39-Rena's elbow moves unexpectedly upon hearing that, causing her to fall onto the table, hitting her chin. Luckily, she didn't bite her tongue-

Th-thanks....

>Katsumi: "Th-thank you very much... Rena-chan..."
We're even...
-Although blushing, the worst was yet to come, she was far from being even. After everything that had happened, Rena calmed down, waiting for the president to answer her question-

>Kinoko: Now, answering your technical questions about the character sheet... Every 2 points of Intelligence grant you a +1 to magic damage, and 2 points of Faith are equivalent to a +5 to accuracy on your spell rolls. Something similar happens with physical stats: 2 points of Strength give you +1 to physical damage and 2 points of Willpower add +5 to accuracy. In the specific case of your Stone Scholar sheet, you currently have a +2 on your d20 for damage calculation and a +10 on your d50 for accuracy rolls. Always remember that distinction: the d20 determines the impact's power and the d50 its aim.
I understand, I understand
-She said, writing everything down so as not to forget anything-
Thank you very much, if I have more questions I will let you know, forgive my ignorance

>Kinoko: A crucial detail: Faith points are automatically restored at the start of each combat, but health is not. This isn't Uncharted where you hide behind cover and magically heal. That's why I recommend reserving the Stone Bone only for extreme life-or-death situations. Otherwise, your stone staff works perfectly for melee combat, so you don't waste your spells.
Last resort, kamikaze attack, got it!

>Kinoko: Here's this soda for you... ALTHOUGH... I don't know if you'd actually prefer to try Katsumi's SQUIRT...
.....?
-Rena turns to look at Katsumi, confused-
Did you have soda besides your thermos, or do you have a Pokémon? ...oh the thermos, yes, so that was squirt? I thought it was water, so you already offered me some of your squirt -she said without understanding the joke-
-Rena grabs the soda and before taking a sip, thanks the president again-

IN GAME
>Katsumi: Why the hell should I be accompanied by a brat like you? I've defeated entire armies and fearsome conquerors with the power of my hammer... If I set my mind to it, I could march alone to the capital without breaking a sweat. My combat intuition tells me the most sensible option would be to delve into the catacombs... but in life, I heard rumors that the cemetery tower guards the treasures of old fallen heroes, so we could investigate there for something useful... But tell me, little witch: give me one single valid reason to accept your company. If you manage to convince me, I won't hesitate to follow you to the very ends of the earth.
-Rena takes a deep drink of her soda while Katsumi speaks, she was preparing to roleplay-

Samantha: I see that your awakening-

>Suddenly, Katsumi's male voice broke into a burst of dry coughs.
>Katsumi: A-Aych... cough, cough Sorry... my throat hurts a lot from talking so deep...

Rena: Ah... oh! -She extends her hand to pass him the bottle- here, have some of my squirt -she says innocently- you should always drink before talking

-Waiting for Katsumi to take it, Rena refocused on the roleplay-
Ahem, ahem

Samanta: I see that your awakening after lethargy is not gratifying, I'm sorry about that, but don't let bitterness cloud your judgment, after all, we have something in common, you and I, something that unites us, that we couldn't avoid death, and yet it seems that for a few moments we are escaping from it, shouldn't we take advantage of these ephemeral moments of consciousness? Call it faith. Call it will, but something keeps us standing here now, you ask me for a single reason, but I will give you 3

Rena: Samanta raised her hand showing 3 fingers, each time she named a reason she lowered one

Samanta: As I told you, I wouldn't know which path to take, you've already answered my question more or less, but but even though the great and expert knight can be guided by intuition, it never hurts to have your back watched.

second, you honestly know we have nothing better to do, our stay in the world of the living had already ended, depending on whether or not we had family, they would have already perished many moons ago, kingdoms fell, we have no place to call home, you can try to be a lone wolf, but everyone knows that wolves attack in packs

Third....

Rena: The young woman gestured for the giant warrior to crouch, the last part was something she whispered in his ear

-Rena leaned close to Katsumi's ear to whisper this last part-
Rena: hey, how about the last one is a childish promise that touches Thorgar's heart? he's a forgotten warrior, isn't he? Samanta is someone who controls rocks, she could promise him a statue in the capital, so that he would be remembered again, something that depending on how the adventure unfolds could or could not be fulfilled, but let it be a minimally justifiable reason

I mostly use Gemini, sometimes ChatGPT, if I don't get what I want I resort to Grok, but I also edit some things

>>10982
>“N-No way, they almost killed each other, i-it's the most epic fight I've ever seen, Do you want us to do something like them? Maybe I won't achieve it, they look like experts.”
I know, it was incredible, the best part is that it has a part 2, in a hospital where a boy awakens a monstrous power
https://youtu.be/QRdqcXY6jLQ?si=rcAkQp-aWgcDAFgSI think we should start by trying to move small things, like empty cans or bottle caps
>“It will be an honor to have you, now it's time to roleplay”

Do you want to come with us? -She says, pointing at Katsumi- or will you take an opposite path and we make this session a friendly competition to see who gets out of the cemetery first? Being friends doesn't mean we can't be rivals, if you say yes I'll introduce myself again to your character, may I see your sheet?

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Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10984 es
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Some papers that were taped to the bulletin board
https://youtu.be/XosfAzrpjWQ?si=mSCwafnTk363WEG6THE ROL COMIC
By: Rena
Rena's note: (Read THE in the title as DA)

-After being left alone in the club room, Rena gathered the courage to leave her comic on the mural, but something caught her attention, a paper >>10981, she carefully peeled it off to read it better, and after doing so, tears stained the paper, she couldn't hold back, she dropped the paper and left it on the table, to run to the bathroom, she didn't want anyone to see her cry.... that story broke her, it touched her soul she would cry for an hour because of that story, a beautiful story-
https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJtog2LFX4p6BXm20ap_RYDOUHV_fLIGa&si=zLj7qR3BCm8TjTiG
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10985 es
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>>10978
https://youtu.be/HAtWd_7ZpF8>I remain still as I listen to the boy attentively. This time I don't interrupt even once, and my eyes remain on him throughout his little speech, although from time to time they stray slightly to some parts of the club, to process the ideas that crossed my mind. He liked to write, maybe some simple words, but they mean quite a lot when they are so direct. People write because they like to sell books, be famous, create complex things, but then, there are people, few, who simply like the act of writing. They haven't read great libraries, they don't have a ranking of Dostoevsky's best books, fighting on internet forums, and showing off their excellent gay content convoluted grammar techniques.

>They just seek to release what they have inside, in written form. They don't seek to be read, they don't seek it to be perfect, they don't seek to become famous or sell entire book collections, they just want.... To write. I completely understood what he was referring to and in a way shared it, although I didn't say anything out loud to confirm it, my attentive face was enough.

>Yes, when he talks about not wanting to bother anyone, my expression becomes slightly more serious. Not because it bothers me, but because it seems like a strange idea to me. I don't quite understand why someone would have to apologize for doing something they like as long as they aren't forcing others to participate, but I also have difficulty understanding those things. Still, one would think after hearing him say all those things about why he wouldn't join a literature club or something similar, right? He was passionate about writing and those things, but those groups tend to be... Too elitist, to put it nicely, and they cut wings and heads to maintain an "acceptable" standard in the Reddit community.

>Then Hisao mentions the club's bulletin board/mural (which now that I think about it I have to take a look at), and that he was going to start posting his writings there. I raise my eyebrows and look him in the eyes sincerely.

"I'm going to read it."

>I remain silent for a few seconds, looking towards where the bulletin board is.

"But not because you asked me to."

"Or because I pity you, or because it would look bad, or out of pressure."

"Or because I think I should after saying the above."

>I make a small pause.

"I'm going to read it simply because I want to read it."

"I'm interested in what you write."

"And I want to know what else you have in your chest."

"....."

"..."

"So you can write whatever you want."

"I will read it carefully."

"And you don't have to worry about bothering me."

"If I didn't want to read it, I would tell you directly."

>Finally he turns to leave, saying those last words as a promise for his departure.

"Ah."

>I watch him walk away and say, speaking normally, without shouting, but if he paid some attention he could hear me.

"And Mailman can hug my penitent whenever he wants."

"I think he needs it."

>Although well, he'd get white mange.
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10986 es
>>10985
>>10966
<Pretty
https://youtu.be/siNKiOvc_ZI?list=RDsiNKiOvc_ZIEverything was dark... My limbs trembled from the constant itching and burning that plagued my skin. My bones were almost calcined, rotating among themselves in a spiral, like the roots of an old, dying tree, while my eye looked everywhere trying to find the slightest trace of light, at least to know if I was still alive. Panic was slowly taking over my mind, hyperventilating

".........................:"

Until everything stopped

I calmed down. In my mind, the memories of who I was and what I was looking for had returned, and that state of consciousness made me reconnect with reality. My trembling hands began to move the rock slab above me, letting in a thin, almost dim light into the interior where I lay, a tomb. When I managed to slowly get out after who knows how long of rest, I realized I was in a crypt, or cemetery.

Violent cough

I slowly check my coffin, grabbing my mace, which I use to support my weak body, which was trying to fall to the ground and not get up again. Then, as I raise my head, I observe my surroundings... There were more people, too many people, and this was strange. So, while scratching under the burlap, my neck, back, and arms, I look beyond the horizon.... and I see it..... God.

Or what was left of him. I had arrived at the end, after so much time, but the journey had barely begun here, so I couldn't just sit and wait for my death. With difficult steps, I begin to walk, before whoever those people are notice my presence, and eat me or something, where was I going? Into the depths of the forest. The exit wasn't there, but before going further down into the Crypt, I wanted to get a general look at the area

1d100 = 74

<Penitent Pilgrim
<HP: 130/130
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.10987 es
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>>10982
>The air in the abandoned hall became thick with a complicit silence as Bibi spoke her words. Kinoko Ichinose, the club president, adjusted her glasses with the languor of a master listening to a gifted student. Far from judging her, the hyperactive girl offered a frank and understanding smile, tilting her head with genuine respect.

Kinoko: And there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, my dear disciple of escapism! In this sacred temple of fiction, we perfectly understand socioeconomic reality. Not all mortals have the capital or the precious hours of life to fully immerse themselves in endless games or buy every release that comes to market. Consuming the narrative through the eyes and voice of a good internet chronicler is as valid and noble a way to love a universe as playing it yourself. What matters is the passion for the story!

>Without missing a beat, Kinoko took a quick look at Bibi's character sheet, her gaze fixing on the newly written name.

Kinoko: Tanya Uspenskaya... An imposing name, with class and the right scent of arcane tragedy! Approved without any objection whatsoever.

>The president gave Bibi a firm thumbs-up before readjusting her game notes behind the plastic screen she used as a Game Master barrier.

>Hearing the sincere compliments Bibi gave her character sheet and drawing, Hotaru's face lit up again in a bright crimson tone. A sincere smile, filled with a overflowing joy she rarely showed to strangers, appeared on her lips. Clasping her small arms around the witch's waist, the blue-haired girl clung to her even tighter, seeking to convey in that hug all the affection that was difficult for her to put into words.
Hotaru: Thank you so much, Bibi-chan... I'm really glad you liked it. The truth is, most of the people in this club seem extremely weird and extravagant to me... but if you're here, I'll give them a chance. I promise I'll try to enjoy this hobby as much as I enjoy every second I spend with you, Bibi-chan.

>At that moment, Yowai was about to respond to Bibi's question about her dwarf, but the words got stuck in her throat. Hotaru, noticing the other girl's closeness, quickly cut in, raising her voice slightly to mark her territory.

Hotaru: That's right! Bibi loves bubblegum flavor, she's crazy about anything blue... and I love red!

>To cap off her little display of possessiveness, the blue-haired girl stuck her tongue out at Yowai in a childish way and decisively buried her face back into the little witch's chest. Hotaru's jealousy was as clear as water. Yowai, rather than getting annoyed, blinked slowly and let out a gentle, unhurried laugh. She found the dynamic between the two not only understandable but deeply adorable, silently admiring their singular, close "friendship."

>Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, the sound of paper violently tearing drew everyone's attention once again. Valdo had destroyed yet another sheet. The cinnamon-skinned boy scratched his hair in exasperation, staring blankly into space with wide eyes as if inspiration had escaped through the window. However, upon hearing Bibi's encouraging words, he seemed to regain some composure. He let out a long sigh, adjusted his glasses, and gave the little witch a smile full of gratitude.

Valdo: I greatly appreciate your kind words of encouragement, my lady witch. I must admit that creating a character worthy of this campaign is proving more difficult than subduing an ancient dragon in its own lair... But I swear by my honor that I will overcome this creative challenge! I won't let our group down.
>Hearing the dark-skinned guy call his friend "my lady", Hotaru poked her head out of Bibi's chest just enough to give Valdo a death glare, narrowing her red eyes with pure antipathy. The boy, completely oblivious to the venom in the blue-haired girl's gaze, dove back into his quill and papers, writing at a frantic pace. It was clear that with such an analytical block, he would miss the start of the game, or at least the first few turns.

>Without wasting any more time, the table settled down to begin the Vermis game.

>The drastic change in the witch's voice took Hotaru by surprise. The little girl jumped slightly in her seat, looking at Bibi with wide eyes and a hint of innocent fright on her face. She had never heard her speak with such gravity or so immersed in a role. Once the initial shock wore off, a deep wave of admiration washed over the blue-haired girl; Bibi's dedication and commitment to role-playing seemed simply fascinating to her.

>However, when it was time to interact, reality hit Hotaru. A small panic attack washed over her as she didn't know how to break the narrative ice. She swallowed hard, looked at her character sheet, and decided to dive headfirst into the water, starting to roleplay without beating around the bush.

Hotaru: "My character... Beatrice... the Infant Seeker... feels no fear whatsoever about being in this horrible place. Nor does she care that she woke up inside a cold tomb, nor does she question how she is still alive. The only thing occupying her mind is absolute desperation... but not for herself, but for her son! The witches stole him, took him from her arms..."

>She took a deep breath, stepping into the shoes of the tall, slender woman she had drawn, trying to convey the pain of the stripped mother.

Hotaru: "Beatrice stumbles through the gloom of the enclosure. She sees the figures around her and, with trembling hands and eyes wide with pain, approaches each of you. She grabs Tanya's and the others' clothes tightly, shaking them desperately as she pleads: 'Please! I beg you, for whatever you hold dear! Have you seen my little one? They took him! Tell me if any of you saw where the witches took him!'"

>The blue-haired girl continued to describe her heroine's actions, using a tone laden with peasant drama.

Hotaru: "Receiving no immediate answer that would restore her hope, Beatrice lets go of her companions' clothes and lunges towards the other stone tombs and sarcophagi that still remain closed in the crypt. She begins to scratch at the stone lids, desperately searching for any crack, any inscription, or any abandoned clue that might serve as a lead to find her lost baby's whereabouts..."

>Carried away by the impulse of the moment and the nervousness of a novice, Hotaru grabbed a couple of dice from the table and rolled them directly onto the board. The plastic cubes rolled with a dry sound before stopping.

>From the other side of the table, Kinoko Ichinose stared at her with a look of absolute bewilderment, as if silently wondering: "What is she doing rolling the dice now if I haven't even asked for an investigation or strength roll?!" The president opened her mouth to correct her, but quickly restrained herself. As a good experienced Game Master, she knew that cutting off the fluid inspiration and momentum of a first-time player was a cardinal sin. She smiled with a hint of mischief in the dim light of the club and let the dice dictate the path, allowing the roleplay to flow freely according to her players' choices.

1d100 = 65
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>>10983
>>10984
>She immediately blushed upon hearing Rena's words inviting her to "take a sip of her Squirt." A pained and shy grimace crossed her face, turning her ears and cheeks a bright red. However, to clear her throat and continue playing her role with due dignity, she picked up the grapefruit soda bottle and took a small sip. She swallowed, closed her eyes for a second to compose herself, and resumed that deep, gravelly, masculine voice, immersing herself fully in the role-playing game.

Katsumi: Thorgar grips the treated wooden handle of his warhammer tightly, making his leather gloves creak... His gaze fixed on the little witch reflects not anger, but an ancient weariness.

>She once again adopted the peculiar Iberian accent that was so difficult for her to maintain, trying her best to sound fluid and dramatic like a true experienced role-player.

Katsumi: It is not bitterness that clouds my judgment, little Samantha... but distrust— bellows the horned knight with a cavernous voice that seems to come from the depths of his withered lungs. —When the people you swore to protect with your own life, those to whom you gave your best years and your blood on the battlefield, turn their backs on you and let your name rot in oblivion... it is natural to stop trusting the lineage of mortals.—

>She explained that Thorgar was listening intently to every word the little witch said. Although his face remained completely hidden under the iron visor of his helmet decorated with deer antlers, the way he tilted his head assured Samanta that, at least, the ancient champion was paying absolute attention to her speech.

Katsumi: I have never needed anyone to watch my back— the undead continued, raising his chin with pride. —In life, I was the one who held the shield to cover others, and there was never a single soul who deigned to watch over mine. I didn't need it in the past, and I don't need it in this pathetic reanimated existence. I have no intention of being betrayed a second time.—
>He made a brief pause, scratching his chin to simulate the warrior's doubt before sighing heavily through his helmet.

Katsumi: "However... I must reluctantly admit that your words hold a certain logic—" grumbles the metal giant. "Wolves hunt and survive in packs, that's true... but for a pack to function, there must be unity and trust among its members, and I don't know any of these living corpses that have awakened beside us—"

>With a sudden, theatrical movement, Katsumi raised his arm and gestured with the head of his enormous imaginary hammer towards all the other players at the table >>10986 >>10982. Just then, another of the women >>10982 in the group expressed her agreement with the idea of heading towards the cemetery tower instead of wandering blindly.

Katsumi: "Thorgar slowly turns his head towards her, observing her carefully from head to toe with a critical gaze... 'Are you the priestess of some forgotten god?' he asks skeptically. 'Venturing into the thicket of the forest blindly is a true suicide. I know the geography of these frozen lands well, and crossing that grove on foot would take us countless moons. If we truly intend to arrive anywhere alive, we need to find a shortcut immediately—'"

>At that moment, Katsumi noticed the subtle gesture the little witch Samantha made to get his attention. The enormous horned knight bent one of his armored knees, resting the metal plate on the tomb's floor to lower his stature and bring his helmet closer to the girl's face, listening intently to the murmur she whispered in his ear.

>Outside the narration, Rena asked a technical and theoretical question about the character's motivations and the proposal to erect a statue in his honor. Katsumi, without fully realizing it, answered the question maintaining that overwhelmingly masculine and deep voice, sounding for a moment exactly like the Italian stallion. Upon realizing how he sounded, Katsumi's eyes widened, he covered his mouth, and quickly cleared his throat, returning to his usual sweet, feminine tone.
Katsumi: A-Ah! Sorry, I forgot to switch back to my female voice... A-Anyway, responding to what you're saying, Rena-chan: it's an excellent idea for the story. Although, beyond wanting a huge statue for strangers to admire, Thorgar really wants to be remembered by the people he loves and protects, not by a bunch of strangers. He'd accept Samantha's offer because it's an extremely kind and childish gesture, but deep down the knight seeks much more personal and sincere recognition.

>She smiled warmly after giving that explanation and took another generous sip from the Squirt bottle Rena had shared with her, not caring at all about sharing saliva with her new friend. Setting the bottle down on the table, the giant took advantage of the lull in the game to address several topics that had been left unsaid during their previous chat.

Katsumi: By the way, Rena... I'm so glad to hear you're feeling so happy today. I swear I haven't felt this happy and calm in a very long time either... Oh, about the cars we were talking about earlier, I don't have my own car, but my dad has a huge blue Toyota Mega Cruiser. He sometimes lends it to me, though very, very occasionally because he's super stingy with his stuff. We mostly use it to go to Hakotsukuri beach together once a month. My dad is extremely protective of his truck, but I'm sure if he talked to your mom, they could reach an agreement. Let me give you his license plate just in case...

>She pulled out a notebook and wrote down a combination of characters.

Katsumi: Look, the plate is 和泉 100 さ 45-89... I wish I were as pretty as my mom. Everyone always tells me I look too much like my dad, both in height and in roughness...

>Out of nowhere, Katsumi tilted her head and asked with the purest innocence in the world.

Katsumi: Hey, Rena-chan... isn't it in Argentina where people usually eat donkey meat? I think I read it on a forum the other day... Oh! And about the tickling, you could try tickling me later, but I highly doubt it would work. You have such small, cute hands that I'm sure it wouldn't tickle me at all. Besides, I insist that my laugh is totally ugly and weird, it's nothing special.
>She preferred not to delve too deeply into the topic of migration in Osaka. Inside, she felt a huge annoyance when she heard Muslim religious chants blaring from loudspeakers at seven in the morning near her neighborhood, but she preferred to keep it all to herself. She was terrified that if she complained about it out loud, people would immediately label her as a supporter of the Sanseitō political party or consider her a xenophobic and prejudiced person, which was totally contrary to her nature.

Katsumi: Anyway... your mom sounds like an extremely intelligent and strong woman. Although... WHAT DO YOU MEAN HUNTING OLDER MEN?!

>She jumped slightly in her chair, her eyes wide with genuine consternation and innocence.

Katsumi: I hope your mom isn't going to threaten my dad with a shotgun just because it's "hunting season for older men"! Please tell her not to eat him or do anything bad to him... Look, I have a picture of him here.

>She quickly searched her mobile phone and showed Rena the screen, where she could see a picture of her dad, then one of her car, and finally one of the beach they often went to together.

Katsumi: He's already quite old, 51, but he keeps himself in good shape thanks to sports, now he trains Aikido and Karate to keep himself from getting bored. Even though he's stubborn and scolds me for everything, I love him very much... so please ask your mom not to hunt him! Or at least be nice to him!

>She chuckles, clearly just joking, she knows what she means but wants to play around with Rena a bit.

Katsumi: And answering your other question... yes, I've been studying here at Kamome High School for a whole year now. The truth is, there's no great origin story or dramatic reason behind why I enrolled here. I just live relatively close to the school compared to other high schools in the area, so it was super convenient for me to walk. It was pure convenience due to proximity to my house and little else... Oh, in case we go to the tower.

>She throws her zocchiedro to investigate the tower if they agree to go there first.

1d100 = 79
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>>10983
El gordo Rainbow Pyrite-ae9b51 No.10990 es
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Approaching the board with a notepad in hand, the fat man glances at what's written on it, then posts papers with his opinions and comments.

>>10949

What is it to be a whore?

Throughout the film, this question is posed to us, along with multiple explanations about what it means to be a whore.
At first, we're shown the whore as a figure of power. Kyoko is someone successful, libidinous, charismatic, and independent.
I must emphasize "independent," since the film itself deals with this theme. There's a difference between "lonely" and "independent." Being lonely equals being abandoned; lonely people desire contact, demonstrating their inability to live on their own. In contrast, independent people are the antithesis of these. The independent can live atop solitude without needing anyone else. They don't need validation, they don't need company, and they don't care what others think.

All these traits are things one desires and idolizes. Seeing someone like that, the inferior woman thinks, I want to be like "her"—an idea we follow through Noriko. The assistant, who idolizes Kyoko as an almost divine figure, worthy of worship.
Before this "Goddess," self-humiliation is a minor evil in exchange for a taste of her greatness. She even offers her blood as sacrifice, like the inferior whore she is. Except Noriko isn't even worthy of reaching the status of "inferior whore." She's a bitch, someone stripped of her human rank due to her lack of independence and her desire to be someone else.

However, all these elements are reversed once we're shown the truth behind the scenes. Kyoko is none of this. She's just a novice actress constantly abused by the other actors and directors. She's a "vessel," a container whose interior exists only to have things inserted—be they penises or papers—and that is what makes her a whore. That weakness, that lack of power, that "loneliness" drives her to degrade herself in exchange for the slightest approval. She becomes a product, selling not only her body but also her autonomy, all in the vague hope that one day she might become "independent."
None of these definitions really show why Kyoko is a whore. Whether it's fantasy or reality, both views seem vomit-inducing to her. The film itself encapsulates this concept well with the line 'There is no urine, no feces, only vomit.' Why vomit? Because it has no value. Urine and feces are produced by extracting everything necessary from what's ingested; vomit, on the other hand, is just rejection. The body doesn't want it and expels it violently to avoid intoxication. This life, this desire to be a whore, is something she instinctively rejects yet desires. Why does she desire it?

The reason she truly wants to become a whore is because of her upbringing. Her parents tried to keep her away from anything erotic, denying her access to magazines or pornographic videos, even though they themselves consumed and enjoyed eroticism daily. They tried to deny her entry into the dirty adult world by keeping her "pure" intact. They didn't want her to engage in sinful acts, just as God didn't want Adam and Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. And in their prohibition, they only drew her closer to those immoral acts.

This type of strict upbringing where the child is kept away from all evil is deficient. Sooner or later, they will have to enter the adult world and with it, sin. A child who has tasted the forbidden fruit little by little during their growth will know how to restrain themselves better than one who was denied it. Faced with the contradiction of becoming an adult without experiencing anything of their world, the child is forced to choose between two options.

Perish to avoid contamination, or rebel to experience sin firsthand. Kyoko chooses the latter, while her sister chooses death. An event that strongly marks Kyoko's life, who in her desperation swallows the forbidden fruit in one gulp. Giving her virginity to a stranger, lying about her age to be able to act, and falling deeper and deeper into a decadent spiral where truth mixes with fantasy.
For Kyoko, being a whore is escapism, rebellion, an attempt to define who she is, to become independent and leave her loneliness behind. All these things are what truly define Kyoko as a whore.

Now tell me, Yowai... do you consider yourself a whore?

>>10942

>1. A sadistic Mexican cartel kidnaps you and presents you with the ultimate dilemma: to save your mother's or your sister's life, you must record an intimate video having sex with the one you choose and make it go viral. What do you decide?
If I had a sister, I'd choose her and convince the narcos to join in too. Nobody wants to watch a homemade porn tape with narcos just standing on the sidelines. If they're going to be in the scene, they might as well participate and use their "skills" to turn this into a snuff film with at least minimal quality.

>2. You discover the only way to inherit your pedophilic, abusive grandfather's million-dollar fortune is by agreeing to spend an entire night tied to his bed while he forces you to sodomize him. What do you do?
How am I supposed to sodomize him while I'm tied up? More likely, he'd be the one sodomizing me. Either way, I'd agree to both scenarios even without money on the line.

>3. A deadly zombie virus ravages the world, and the only known cure is extracted by boiling and drinking your own sister's vaginal fluids during her period. How do you save humanity?
Putting aside my preferences—how is that cure supposed to work? Does it prevent zombification or reverse it? Either way, way too many coincidences would have to happen for anyone to discover something like that.

>4. You're caught committing an unforgivable crime, and the judge gives you a choice: spend thirty years in a cell with cannibalistic serial rapists, or legally marry your dog and consummate the marriage right there in the courtroom. What do you choose?
I choose A and B simultaneously.

>5. At an underground, illegal orgy, you're forced to choose between unprotected sex with your biological father or with your ninety-year-old grandmother who has advanced gangrene. What do you do?
Both are already dead, but regardless—why am I being forced? I mean, I'd gladly do both, but I don't see why the others at the orgy care whether I do it. Did I lose a bet or something?
to

prevent

an

atomic

bomb

from

exploding

and

killing

millions,

you

must

strangle

your

younger

brother

with

your

bare

hands

while

looking

into

his

eyes

and

singing

him

a

lullaby.

What

do

you

decide?

According

to

what

you

say

in

answer

B,

the

bomb

will

go

off.

That

means

the

person

who's

supposed

to

drop

it

is

flying

at

such

a

high

altitude

that

I

wouldn't

even

know

what's

happening.

In

that

case,

I

have

no

way

of

knowing

if

they'll

even

keep

their

word.

Unless,

of

course,

my

supposed

brother

and

I

are

on

the

plane

with

him.

I'd

need

my

hands

free

to

strangle

my

brother,

but

if

I

can

do

that,

then

I

could

also

lunge

at

the

hijacker,

pull

down

his

pants,

and

give

him

such

a

hard

blowjob

that

he'd

be

completely

disarmed.

>7.

A

group

of

mad

scientists

offers

you

the

chance

to

become

the

stud

on

their

human

cloning

farm:

you

must

impregnate

both

your

aunt

and

your

first

cousin

simultaneously

to

create

a

superior

race

of

abominations.

How

do

you

respond?

They're

going

to

need

a

lot

more

than

just

that

small

group

if

they're

serious

about

creating

a

race.

Or

are

they

planning

to

use

cloning

once

I've

impregnated

everyone?

I

hope

they're

not

expecting

me

to

knock

them

up

every

year

to

meet

their

"unit"

quotas,

because

I

refuse

to

be

tied

down

forever

to

just

one

set

of

partners

like

that.

>8.

On

her

deathbed,

your

mother

confesses

that

your

real

father

is

your

older

brother,

and

that

your

existence

is

a

biological

mistake.

As

her

final

wish,

she

asks

you

to

sleep

with

her

one

last

time

before

she

dies.

What

do

you

do?

I

wish

my

mother

had

told

me

something

like

that...

>9.

You're

offered

a

billion

dollars,

but

the

only

condition

is

that

you

must

spend

the

rest

of

your

life

having

mandatory

daily

sex

with

a

close

relative

of

your

choice.

What

do

you

decide?

I've

said

it

before

and

I'll

say

it

again:

I'm

not

tying

myself

to

one

person

or

one

group

for

life.

>>10981

Nice

work,

Hisao,

but

don't

show

this

to

the

art

teacher.

She

doesn't

usually

like

it

when

students

stray

from

her

definition

of

"art."

>>10984

Draw

Kuma's

tits

bigger,

she'll

appreciate

it.
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>>10985
>>10986
>The table was finally set and the atmosphere in the classroom transformed as the dice began to roll across the wood. Kinoko, assuming her role as Game Master with surprising skill and professional seriousness, lowered the intensity of her voice, adopting a dense, deep, and enveloping tone that immediately transported everyone to the decadent world of the game.

Kinoko: The ashen fog creeps over the rotten grass of the forgotten graveyard. The air smells of rust, dampness, and rancid flesh. Bonita-chan, your character, The Penitent Pilgrim, stands erect among the cracked tombstones. Through the gloom and the icy wind, you can observe in the distance the brief discussions and exchanges of a picturesque group of wretches: a horned knight in dented armor, a small witch surrounded by flies, a helpless mother clutching an empty bundle, and a godless prophetess whispering prayers to the void >>10984 >>10982 They all wander in their own misery! As GM, I remind you that, in this phase, all your individual actions will only take formal effect when the entire group of corpses rolls their action dice. For now, only the Penitent, the horned knight, and the searching mother have rolled their respective actions.

>Kinoko fell silent, yielding the floor to the black-haired boy. Hisao gave a small jump in his seat, adjusting the bandages on his face. Unlike the dark and oppressive narration of the president, Hisao began to speak in a childish voice, exaggeratedly cheerful, sweet, and frankly adorable. It was such an abysmal contrast to the setting that it was magical.

Hisao: O-Okay! You see... In the middle of that ugly, gray cemetery, there's a rustic wooden coffin... but this coffin is decorated with little yellow stars and colorful drawings! Suddenly, the lid flies off with a very cheerful sound: POP! And out of it rises Cajaman, Sir Carton! He stretches himself really hard, making cute tired noises... “Aaaah, what a good nap!”. When he sees the dark forest and the fog-filled cemetery, he doesn't feel scared at all. On the contrary, he looks at the tops of the spooky trees and thinks: “Ooh, what tall and cool trees for playing hide-and-seek!”. And when he looks at the tombstones, he just thinks they are very old stones that need a good wash with soap and water to look pretty again.

>Hisao took a breath, fully immersing himself in the role-playing. To everyone's surprise at the table, when he did his character's dialogue, he modulated his voice to sound exactly like a preschool children's cartoon character, imitating the sing-song, enthusiastic style of a Backyardigan.

Hisao: At that moment, Cajaman hears a very, very loud and nasty cough coming from the shadows... It's the cough of a poor man with a grubby sack on his head! Cajaman puts his hands on his cheeks and makes a worried face: “Oh no! Someone's really hurting their throat!”. So, without a second thought, my knight goes to help him. He walks, doing agile and super playful hops over the tombstones, making cute noises with each step: Boing, boing, boing! Tiki-tiki-tap!.

>The boy extended his arms over the table, mimicking the movements of his cardboard hero as he continued his disarmingly innocent tale.
Hisao: Just before the Penitent can inspect the area or move forward into the mist, Cajaman does a backflip and lands directly in his path, arms spread wide to block him. From one of the folds in his cereal-box armor, Cajaman pulls out a small, soft white cloth, neatly hand-embroidered with a smiling teddy bear holding a pink heart. He offers it gently to the Penitent. In his cartoonish voice, he speaks directly: “Hi, hi, new friend! Where are you off to in such a hurry with such a serious face? Take this! You gotta clean yourself up or cover up—because a good knight never leaves people with illnesses or discomfort all alone. It’s my duty to help you smile!”

>He grabbed his plastic dice with enthusiasm and rolled them across the table to make his social interaction check.

Hisao: Cajaman extends his boxing gloves and softly takes the Penitent by the arm, trying to help him walk like he’s an old, tired man. Sing-songy, he says: “I know you’re searching for something important, so I’ll accompany you! But listen well, my friend: we shouldn’t go into the forest because there are surely wild little animals who might get scared of us, and that tower over there looks so, so old—it could collapse any second and give us a big bump on the head. The catacombs are much safer and cozier for walking together! Shall we go there?”

>The scene was strangely comforting within Vermis’ nightmare—until the table dynamic took a bizarre turn. Gore Predator extended his pale hand and tossed his own dice onto the mat without asking the narrator for permission. In a completely stoic, flat, and icy voice, he declared his character’s action: Ratman.

Gore Predator: Ratman emerges from the rotting bushes. He’s a mangy, eyeless anthropomorphic rat. Upon seeing Cajaman, he lunges at his right cardboard leg. I’m rolling dice to frenetically copulate against Sir Cajaman’s leg until I corrode the material of his armor with my sticky fluids. I cum on his leg.

>The contrast was so violent that Hisao immediately broke character. The boy’s childish expression twisted into one of utter shock and panic. He recoiled in his chair, eyes widening and cheeks flushing bright red with pure discomfort.

Hisao: Wh-What?! What are you even saying?!

>He stared at Gore Predator, completely nervous and thrown off. The goth kid didn’t say another word to explain himself—he just kept staring fixedly at Hisao, a ghastly smile creeping across his lips as he slowly licked them with his dry tongue.

>Embarrassed and unsure how to react to such roleplaying degeneracy, Hisao lowered his gaze to the floor, trembling slightly while fidgeting with the bandages on his hands. Heart pounding wildly, the little black-haired boy stayed silent, anxiously waiting for Bonita-chan’s response—and her character’s—to see if they’d accept his suggestion to go to the catacombs or how they’d react to the chaotic situation.

<Hisao
1d100 = 56

<Gore Predator
1d100 = 62
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>>10943
>Gore Predator cries a little over Rena's comments after reading them at home, they were the best questions he had come up with

>>10954
>Gore Predator was enjoying Bibi's answers until he got discouraged when he saw that she got confused and thought the president made the form. At least he sees he reads "Los Sin Kids" and loves it.

>>10990
>Gore Predator has a single reward in the teacher's answers, which he uses to masturbate that night before sleeping.

>>10990
>>10955
>Yowai is very happy that someone saw her announcement, both for giving the idea of a movie night with the club and for giving her points of view on one of the movies she recommended. In fact, she admits she likes the latter more. She reads the comments of Master Jack over and over again, who, despite considering him a "weird old man," really enjoyed analyzing his perspective and details that she might have missed when watching the same movie. As long as at least one person writes these kinds of things, it gives Yowai the motivation to continue with her "section" on the club's mural.

>>10990
>Hisao feels a bit disgusted reading the teacher's comment, he remembers when he ate his boogers and it churns his stomach.

>>10984
>Kinoko's note
"But I wouldn't doubt that many things would fit inside your little mouth! If you end up dating Katsumi, your mouth will have to withstand bigger things!"

>Katsumi's note
"You draw very pretty although I didn't understand the joke!!! :D"

>Kuma's note
"Why am I cross-eyed?!"

>Yowai's note
"LMFAO"

>Gore Predator's note
"Why didn't you like my form? U.U"

>Valdo's note
"Were you crying in the bathroom? I think I heard you..."

>Hisao's note
"IT TURNED OUT PIRIPIRIFLAUTICALLY BEAUTIFUL! 😊"
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The Manifesto of Absolute Evasion: A Manual Against the Tyranny of Reality
Written by: Kinoko Ichinose

Chapter IV: The Return to Mythic Thought or the Destruction of the World's Disenchantment

The great crime of modernity has not been the invention of the microchip or the advancement of science. Do not be mistaken, my dear neophytes; this manifesto is not a technophobic tantrum seeking to return us to living in dark caves without electricity or heating. The true crime of this century has been the absolute disenchantment of the world. Past generations handed us a planet meticulously parceled out, analyzed, and stripped of all mystery. They told us there were no more uncharted islands on the maps, no more sea monsters in the ocean's abyss, and that everything that exists can be reduced to a cold cost-benefit equation, a financial transaction, or a mental health diagnosis. They locked us into a flat, predictable, and painfully boring world.

By extinguishing myth, they extinguished our capacity for wonder and, therefore, our will to rebel. A youth that does not believe in the invisible is a youth that accepts its daily chains with a terrifying docility.

Classic role-playing games are our sanctuary for the sacred and the mysterious. They are the portal back to mythic thought, to that golden age when night still held secrets and when the actions of a single individual could alter the balance of the cosmos. When we sit around the table, we are not simply executing a system of mechanical rules; we are re-enchanting the air we breathe. We return existence to the category of the sublime, the terrible, and the marvelous. We believe again, even if under the fictional pact of the session, that there are forces that escape the cold logic of the market and that courage, loyalty, and sacrifice still carry real weight in the balance of the universe.

Modernity demands a gray and hurried maturity from you. It tells you to leave childhood fantasies behind, to focus on accumulating merits for your resumes, and to accept that life is simply a series of administrative tasks to be completed before death. I tell you that this supposed "maturity" is merely the elegant name they give to the domestication of your souls.

- Role-playing allows us to keep the fire of wonder intact.
- It allows us to look at an old forest on the map and see not timber to be felled or land for real estate development, but the home of an ancient deity demanding respect.
- It allows us to look at the stars and see not just inert rocks floating in the void, but the stage for celestial battles that still echo in the destiny of our characters.

By reclaiming myth, we also reclaim the scale of our own lives. On the asphalt of Kamome, we are insignificant, but at the role-playing table, we rediscover the dimension of the epic. We learn to see the value of resistance, of the pursuit of truth, and of the fight against injustice, not as abstract concepts from a boring textbook, but as living truths that we defend with sword in hand and heart pounding a mile a minute. We refuse to be the generation of apathy. We reclaim our right to adventure, to the search for lost relics, and to direct confrontation against darkness, because we know that one who is capable of challenging a tyrannical paper god at the game table will never easily kneel before the flesh-and-blood tyrants of reality.

HOW LONG WILL MY INSPIRATION LAST TO KEEP WRITING THIS?! I DON'T KNOW! READ CHAPTER 5!
Bibi Marialite-eaba11 No.10994 es
>>10984
Did you do that with AI or did you draw it yourself, black? It's too high quality.
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10995 es
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>>10988

-After Katsumi took a drink and returned the bottle to Rena, the young autistic girl did the same, forcing a deep voice required a lot of squirt-
IN GAME
>Katsumi: It is not bitterness that clouds my judgment, little Samantha... but distrust— bellows the horned knight with a cavernous voice that seems to come from the depths of his withered lungs. —When the people you swore to protect with your own life, those to whom you gave your best years and your blood on the battlefield, turn their backs on you and let your name rot into oblivion... it is natural to stop trusting the lineage of mortals.—

Rena: Samantha lets out a tender giggle, but without a shred of mockery or malice, she walks in circles around the knight, tapping the ground with her staff, until she stops abruptly, turning her back to him.

Samantha: Trust is something that is earned, it is not simple knowledge that you can acquire.

Rena: Samantha crouches down, touching the ground, feeling the cold rock with her sharpened sense of touch.

Samantha: How many must have died here without truly knowing who to trust? To learn to trust, you must know.

Rena: The little one had made her point clear again; whether the fallen hero should trust was something a journey should determine.

>Katsumi: I have never needed anyone to watch my back— the undead continued, raising his chin with pride. —In life, it was I who held the shield to cover others, and there was never a single soul who deigned to watch over mine. I didn't need it in the past, and I don't need it in this pathetic reanimated existence. I have no intention of being betrayed a second time.—

>Katsumi: However... I must reluctantly admit that your words hold a certain logic— grumbles the metal giant. —Wolves hunt and survive in packs, it's true... but for a pack to function, there must be unity and trust among its members, and I don't know any of these living corpses that have awakened beside us.—

Rena: mmmm, how can I avoid that thought?
-Rena brought her hand to her chin to think for a moment, while looking at Katsumi and his character sheet-
Rena: I've got it.

Samantha: We are far from forming a pack, now we are just miserable stray dogs trying to survive, but therein lies the origin of a possible mutual strength. A pack doesn't start with just 1, you need 2, and along the way, 3 or 4 could join.

Rena: Samantha attacked with logic, although she maintained that witch-like touch of not speaking directly, of course, and using metaphors to adorn her words...
Do you think witches and sorcerers played role-playing games? That's something that just crossed my mind.
OFF GAME
>Katsumi: Ah! Sorry, I forgot to switch to my female voice... Anyway, responding to what you're saying, Rena-chan: it's an excellent idea for the story. Although, beyond wanting a huge statue for strangers to admire, Thorgar really wants to be remembered by the people he loves and protects, not by a group of strangers. He would accept Samantha's offer because it's an extremely kind and childish gesture, but deep down the knight seeks a much more personal and sincere recognition.

No problem, you could work as a voice actor, you have a good voice. As for the rest, precisely because of that, if they travel together, he could learn to love and respect her, to the point that if my character dies, there's a scene of I never cared about the statue, what I wanted was to be recognized, remembered by my loved ones, but of course, they are all gone now, and after my death and resurrection I was given a new opportunity, and on this journey I learned that simple companionship was all I needed to fill that void, it's useless for me not to be remembered when I myself have forgotten why I do what I do, protecting others without expecting anything....something like that, it's just an idea, but the basic concept would be that, unless, of course, the president takes our campaign to a tragic abyss of endless hardship where we have to brutally kill each other in betrayal.
-Rena shrugs when she says the last part, after all, anything was possible in roleplay, right?-

>Katsumi: By the way, Rena... I'm so glad to hear you're feeling so happy today. I swear I haven't felt this happy and calm in a very long time either... Oh, about the cars we were talking about earlier, I don't have my own car, but my dad has a huge blue Toyota Mega Cruiser. He sometimes lends it to me, although very, very occasionally because he's super stingy with his things. We mainly use it to go to Hakotsukuri beach together once a month. My dad is extremely protective of his truck, but I'm sure if he talks to your mom, they could reach an agreement. Let me give you his license plate just in case...
I'm glad to hear my mood makes you feel better, and blue is a nice color, your father has good taste. I'd like to say the same about going to the beach, but I only like private beaches, since they're empty. Crowds make me uncomfortable. Here we are like a class, so I can tolerate it, but a beach...
-Rena imagines a lot of people watching her, judging her, she gets nervous so she imagines herself walking alone on a deserted beach, the peace calms her, the sound of the waves hitting the sand-
I hope the school never organizes anything on a beach -she says, writing down the Toyota's license plate-
>Katsumi: Look, the plate is 和泉 100 さ 45-89... I wish I were as pretty as my mom. Everyone always tells me I look too much like my dad, both in height and in roughness...
-Rena pats her chest, trying to touch her heart, but Katsumi's breasts get in the way-
What matters is what's in here... I mean the heart, not your soft breasts, your height or who you resemble doesn't matter.

>Katsumi: Hey, Rena-chan... isn't Argentina where people usually eat donkey meat? I think I read it on a forum the other day... Oh! And about the tickling, you could try it on me later, but I highly doubt it'll work. You have such small, cute hands that I'm sure it wouldn't be funny at all. Besides, I insist that my laugh is totally ugly and weird, it's nothing special.

I'm actually from the area where that experiment took place. I was born in Chubut, lots of cold, lots of snow. By the time I was born, that meat was already the norm. Years before, cows would die due to the cold and wouldn't reproduce back then. Patagonia is also suffering a predator crisis; pumas had adapted to be fiercer hunters, so a variant was chosen. The exaggeration that it started being consumed throughout the country due to economic hardship was an exaggeration by media from other countries that were more focused on Argentina, you know, boring politics. Donkey meat isn't bad, it's like horse meat, but more oily like pork. In any case, it's normal to eat it in that part of the country now, and as I said, also in Mexico, but it's much better to eat it than to do what Ecuadorians or Colombians do.
-Rena shivers, remembering what she saw once when they went to a beach in Ecuador-
(https://youtu.be/1EA_9dM8Yyk?si=yjXvaqQBcycAHtoL)Give a poor person a piece of meat and they'll eat it. Give a rich person something with a value one zero lower than what they're willing to spend and they'll think it's shit. That's how people are... Oh yes, they also eat bull testicles, that's been going on for decades, but don't believe everything you read online, Katsumi. Disinformation and fake news are the daily world war. Look at what something similar caused, a bomb and racial segregation in this country and the rest of the world. The Japanese see us as dirty blood because we are supposedly the children of those who dropped the bomb.
-Rena said this seriously, she hated it when people believed false things en masse, only generating stupid stereotypes. Although a few minutes ago she showed Bibi a video of pseudo-psychics, that was 100% real news, not fake-
.....Oh yes, Dad ate a donkey's penis in China once because he didn't know Chinese, but putting that aside -Rena blushes a little at the compliment about her hands- I'll tickle you when you least expect it then, you've been warned.....
-Rena had lightly touched on the topic of Japan and Hiroshima, she wanted to state her theory that the city still exists in a quantum space, but it was roleplay time and they were already talking too much, she would save it for later-

>Katsumi: Anyway... your mom sounds like an extremely intelligent and strong woman. Although... WHAT DO YOU MEAN HUNTING OLDER MEN?!
That's what she calls her blind dates

-Katsumi shows her a picture of a huge, robust, giant, bearded man with a serious look and says 'I'll kick your ass if you find me ugly', but Rena wasn't intimidated-

>Katsumi: He's quite old already, he's 51, but he keeps himself in great shape thanks to sports, now he trains Aikido and Karate so he doesn't get bored. Even though he's stubborn and scolds me for everything, I love him very much... so please ask your mom not to hunt him! Or at least be nice to him!

He's big and bearded, he'd make a good Santa Claus at the mall. If my mom ever meets him, I'll tell her to control herself, since he falls into the category of men she usually looks for... do you know martial arts?
-She asked with genuine interest-
I can break a board with one punch, but I'm sure you could break a tree if you set your mind to it,...and since you let me see your dad
-Rena approaches Katsumi, almost sticking to the giant, almost pressing her face against hers, then she whispers for her to look down, Rena hid her cell phone in her jacket, so no one else would see it, and on the screen you could see a picture of her and her father, the famous YouTuber, then Rena plays a video and lowers the volume to almost nothing, it was a video reaction of what he said a little while ago-
https://youtu.be/7syWzaIS9WM?si=cFPnQwqhUpgG_CjZ-After showing that, she separates from Katsumi without saying anything, waiting for her to keep the secret-

>Katsumi: And answering your other question... yes, I've been studying here at Kamome High School for a whole year now. The truth is, there's no grand origin story or dramatic reason behind why I enrolled here. I simply live relatively close to the school compared to other high schools in the area, so it was super convenient for me to walk. It was pure convenience due to proximity to my house and little else... Oh, if we're going to the tower.
I was specifically referring to the club, but that's fine, then I can walk you home when we leave, that's what they do in anime, and to the tower? that's fine

IN GAME

Rena: The young woman climbed the knight's body, sitting on his shoulder, with heavy steps that echoed as he walked, she could feel the vibrations and hear the rebound of the noise, now Thorgar's shoulder was an improvised throne, but a privileged place for a girl who, although lacking two senses, has the other 3 more sharpened-

Samanta: Advance, great warrior, the exit of the pantheon awaits our souls
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.10996 es
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>>10995
I think you didn't roll the DICE OF DESTINY, you have to roll it!!!!!
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.10997 es
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to

see

him

clearly

....

Box

man?....

-Rena

turns

to

look

at

President

Kinoko-

Excuse

me,

is

there

cardboard

in

Vermis?



>>10990

>Draw

Kuma's

tits

bigger,

she'll

appreciate

it.

Response:

Rena:

I

feel

a

bit

bad

about

how

I

made

the

chubby

one

feel,

it

wasn't

my

intention,

but

if

what

you

say

is

true

I

hope

my

sense

of

humor

amuses

her.

I

drew

her

with

a

bigger

bust

as

you

suggested,

plus

added

something

she

seemed

proud

of,

her

sweat,

and

as

the

first

critic

to

give

her

opinion,

I

included

you.

-Below

the

text

was

a

drawing-



'''Responding

to

everyone

else's

comments'''

>>10992

>Kinoko's

note

>"But

I

wouldn't

doubt

that

plenty

of

things

could

fit

in

your

little

mouth!

If

you

end

up

dating

Katsumi,

your

mouth

will

have

to

handle

bigger

things!"

I

can

fit

three

cookies

in

my

mouth,

I

don't

want

to

go

beyond

that

or

I

might

choke

again

and

nearly

die.

I

didn't

understand

the

part

about

dating

Katsumi

and

what

big

thing

I'd

have

to

endure.

If

you're

referring

to

her

appearing

in

another

drawing,

yes,

but

I'm

not

going

to

draw

myself

eating

her.

I

don't

have

that

vore

fetish,

unless

I

come

up

with

a

joke

about

it.

>Katsumi's

note

>"You

draw

very

nicely,

though

I

didn't

get

the

joke!!!

:D"

The

joke

is

that

I

like

peanut

butter

cookies,

which

isn't

really

a

joke

per

se,

it's

just

the

truth.

>Kuma's

note

>"Why

am

I

cross-eyed?!"

It's

just

a

visual

joke,

exaggerating

someone's

appearance

in

caricature

style.

Sorry

if

it

offended

you.

If

you

want,

I

won't

draw

you

anymore.

I

guess

I'll

never

be

able

to

please

you.

>Yowai's

note

>"LMFAO"

Isn't

that

a

band

with

a

famous

hit?

I

didn't

get

the

comment,

but

I'll

assume

it's

something

good.

>Gore

Predator's

note

>"Why

didn't

you

like

my

questionnaire?

U.U"

The

questions

are

meaningless,

like

I

already

said.

They're

the

kind

of

things

someone

would

ask

their

friend

at

ages

9-12

just

to

waste

time.

I

understand

the

point

is

to

have

informal

questions

just

to

pass

time

with

the

group,

and

I

didn't

mean

to

offend.

Otherwise,

I

wouldn't

have

bothered

answering

the

questionnaire.

So

my

critique

was

purely

constructive.

You

could

ask

President

Kinoko

for

help

to

formulate

better

questions.

Because

no

matter

how

disgusting

or

sexual

the

content

might

be,

as

long

as

you

express

yourself

with

a

legitimate

and

believable

context.
Example

You're in a zombie apocalypse with some refugees, all WERE PREVIOUSLY BITTEN and WILL BE INFECTED IN 3 DAYS. The first night, a gay couple has anal sex and are cured by each other's mutant semen. The second night, your sister masturbates and after sucking her fingers she's cured. Only one day remains before you turn into a zombie. What do you choose?
a) Have a threesome with the gay couple
b) Give your sister a cunnilingus

There, I presented a scenario that I think would be something you'd actually consider, and I highlighted in red how important it is to establish a believable setting.

>Valdo's note
>"Were you crying in the bathroom? I thought I heard you..."
No, it must've been the ghost girl Hanako-chan. I saw her the other day. Yeah, definitely that.

>"IT TURNED OUT PIRIPIRIFLUTICALLY BEAUTIFUL! 😊"
Thank you so much. I should say I also liked your story—don't stop writing, and if possible, send it to a publisher. You've got potential, pretty boy.

Those were all the comments for now. I'll bring more drawings or whatever else I make in my free time. I think I'll call this section "Rena's Corner," or "Rena Responds"... This would probably be more comfortable as a website.

Nora's suggestion from Rena to president Kinkono:

Create a message group for the club
Create a website for the club

>>10994
I made it myself imitating the style of the pony.mov video. Thanks. Rena draws herself in a more cheerful, cartoonish way—completely opposite to how she really is. It's like how she'd want to be: more extroverted and full of autistic shitposts, and with a golden tooth.
>>10996
(Oh, I thought since Katsumi chose to go to the tower and we were going together, it wasn't necessary—but I'll go ahead and throw it now.)
-Rena pulls out her DICE OF FATE that she had stored in her bra and throws it onto the table to see what comes up-

1d100 = 87
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10998 es
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>>10991
<Pretty. No idea what I wrote kek
https://youtu.be/QYMvY1P_lQsMy wobbly legs advanced like a drunkard at dawn, almost dragging my feet through a dream that was anything but comforting. My back hurt, my body itched, I felt my jaw literally melting, leaving a slight dark stain of saliva on the bag. Then suddenly I hear cartoonish jumps and..... Someone appears in front of me as if they were a ghost

":....:!"

At enormous speed, I raise the mace, leaving the spikes centimeters from the neck of that man dressed in cardboard. I was actually shitting myself from fright, but thanks to the potato sack on my head you couldn't tell, but you could have noticed the small startle. Then my hand with the mace hesitates for a moment when I see him pull something out of his cardboard box.... A handkerchief. I raise my hand, putting my palm centimeters from his face, I close my fingers and.... I only leave one to move it.

''(mouth sound effect https://youtu.be/yzUHolqu-NA)"
''No sir, you're not going to scam me again with the handkerchief trick, so I quickly take a step, cross by his side and keep walking.

"Are you talking to... me?" (I imitate the roughest, most smoker voice I can)

"...."

I quickly pull my hand away from his grip, and stare at him. You could see my single rotten and somewhat cloudy eye behind the burlap hole, it was trembling, at first it seemed from irritation, although maybe it was something else, worry perhaps?

"Hey hey, don't touch me"

I slowly take off my glove and roll up my tunic, exposing my right arm to the shoulder. The first thing you notice is the stench, an unbearable stench flooded the air as soon as the arm was exposed. It was a mixture of rotten flesh, dampness trapped for years, rusty blood, and a nauseating sweetness typical of something that had been decomposing for too long without ever dying.

"See?"

But when you get used to the smell, you notice the arm. What the burlap had underneath barely retained anything that could be called human flesh. The skin had lost all trace of color, reduced to a sickly white, almost translucent, like the belly of a corpse that had remained too long under stagnant water. It was grotesquely swollen in some areas and stuck to the bone in others, forming an impossible relief of lumps, depressions, and taut tendons under an epidermis that seemed about to tear with the slightest movement.

Dozens of cracks ran down the arm, deep as axe cuts. Their edges were softened and macerated, of a grayish tone, and between them peeked thick clumps of yellowish fat mixed with shreds of reddish-black muscle. In the deepest cuts, fragments of bare bone could be seen, twisted by constant spasms, protruding under the flesh as if the skeleton itself were trying to escape that putrid prison.

Wherever the skin remained intact, countless circles of bright red spread over each other, covered by a thin whitish veil of fungal appearance. They looked like colonies of mold growing on abandoned food, with tiny filaments slowly climbing the surface of the skin and disappearing under blackened scabs. The veins had acquired an unnatural thickness. They writhed under the flesh like trapped worms, pulsing with an erratic cadence. Each pulsation deformed the entire arm, causing the skin to stretch and sink with a disturbingly lively movement.
But the worst were the holes, large cavities dotted all over the forearm and part of the bicep. They weren't simple wounds, but dark pits whose depth was impossible to calculate. Their edges were covered in spongy, grayish-white flesh, perforated by hundreds of tiny pores that opened and closed slowly, like nests for the most repulsive insects. Inside those hollows something seemed to throb, a slow, wet vibration that made the surrounding flesh ripple with each beat.

A thick yellowish-green liquid oozed from those cavities, too viscous to be pus and too dark to be blood. It descended in sticky threads down the arm, mixing with black clots and small fragments of necrotic tissue before dripping heavily to the ground.

"Listen, knight of temu, look at me closely, have you seen what I am?

With that I roll up my tunic again, and raise both arms, as if pointing to myself.

"I am rotten with white hives"

"You think 'If you get close to the leper, you'll get infected too,' doesn't that bother you?"

>Then when I want to keep moving forward, I notice that he doesn't detach himself, what's more, he kept talking to me. I bend my arms and listen to him... Is he going to accompany me? No, no no no no, no sir. Then when I was about to tell him to go to hell, he mentions the forest and the tower, which makes me turn around slowly and observe it... damn it, it's true.

"ehm... you're right, that tower looks like it's going to fall on us any moment"

"...."

Then... something happens, preventing me from answering whether I'm accompanying him to the catacombs or going to the forest

>Seeing the entrance of GP, I cover my mouth to avoid kekes from the unexpectedness.

A rat, deformed, mutant, the size of a man, jumps, out of nowhere, from some bushes to... violate this man-box's leg.

https://youtu.be/XYy2wUoVXYE"AHHH Damn it Boxman! What is that?"

I jump with a kick against the Rat, hitting it between the legs like when you chase away a dog in heat that mounts the guests' feet, all because they left the gate open

"Get out, you creature!" 1d100 = 89

"shhh bshhsch bcshs sound of chasing dogs"

"Move your leg so that thing detaches"

''....."

If Ratman didn't let go of Cajaman's leg after the kick, I grab the rat by the feet, to try to detach it from its grip, and I hope it doesn't piss itself, because otherwise the stream will go everywhere.

"Damn it Box, were these the little animals from the forest?"

I look at the Rat

"Shit man, we've already touched it... do you know what that means?"

"Mom won't be able to identify him by smell"

":...."

"Now we have to give it a name, right?"

I squat down and wiggle my two fingers while saying "pspspspsp" as if trying to call a cat

"why... COF COOFOOFFFF excessively loud cough"

"I think... cof, I messed up-... messed up my voice of t-... talking so much"

What I said was almost imperceptible, so hoarse and low that it was barely a whisper.
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.10999 es
>>10998
>1d100 = 19
Fail and I fall to the ground
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.11000 es
>132621
>I read the entire story standing in front of the bulletin board. When I finish, I go back to the beginning and read it again, this time more slowly. Then I take out a pen and write underneath.

~"I liked it. It's very simple and the moral is pretty obvious, but I think that's part of what makes it beautiful. Yes, Cotton doesn't try to overanalyze the Grumpy Tree. They just see it's alone and decide to approach. I like that they don't need a complicated explanation to do so."

~"I also think the tree is somewhat misrepresented by the story. We don't know why it's angry, only that it is angry, and Cotton immediately assumes it needs affection. That isn't always true. Sometimes a person might want to be left alone."

~"But I think there's something sadder behind that."

~"There are people who build armor around themselves and then get so used to living inside it that they seem to want no one to come near. From the outside, it's easy to think they're the problem: they're unpleasant, withdrawn, silent, rejecting others."

~"But maybe the armor didn't come first."

~"Maybe before that, there were too many people looking from the outside and deciding who they were without bothering to get to know them. Maybe they got hurt so many times that being alone eventually seemed safer than trusting again."

~"And so one says they don't need anyone. That they're better off this way. That they want to be left in peace."

>I stare at what I wrote for a few seconds before adding one final line.

~"But being protected from others isn't the same as no longer needing them. I think sometimes a person doesn't want to live inside their armor. They just want to find someone in front of whom they can take it off without fear."

~"Good story. I like happy endings."

>>10942

>1. A sadistic Mexican cartel kidnaps you and presents you with the ultimate dilemma: to save your mother or your sister's life, you must record an intimate video involving sexual acts with the one you choose and make it go viral. What do you decide?
I really don't care much, I don't negotiate with Mexicans.
>2. You discover the only way to inherit your abusive, pedophilic grandfather's million-dollar fortune is to agree to spend an entire night tied to his bed while he forces you to sodomize him. What do you do?
C is the one that convinces me most, although I wouldn't spend it on tacos.
>3. A deadly zombie virus ravages the world and the only known cure is extracted by boiling and drinking your own sister's vaginal fluids during her period. How do you save humanity?
......
I didn't understand.
>4. You're caught committing an unforgivable crime and the judge gives you a choice: spend thirty years in a cell with cannibalistic serial rapists or legally marry your dog and consummate the marriage right there in the courtroom. What do you choose?
C, I liked C, it doesn't make sense, but it's... creative.
>5. At an illegal underground orgy, you're forced to choose between unprotected sex with your biological father or with your ninety-year-old grandmother who has advanced gangrene. What do you do?
B, although, I don't have a penis, so nothing.
>6. To prevent an atomic bomb from exploding and killing millions, you must strangle your younger brother with your bare hands while looking him in the eyes and singing him a lullaby. What do you decide?
A, there are still places in the world I'd like to see, and I don't want them blown apart by a bomb.
>7. A group of mad scientists offers you the role of stud at their human cloning farm: you must simultaneously impregnate your aunt and your cousin sister to create a superior race of abominations. How do you respond?
Definitely B, although I didn't really have many options—the questions are very limited to a specific audience.
>8. On her deathbed, your mother confesses that your real father is your older brother and that your existence is a biological mistake. As her final wish, she asks you to sleep with her one last time before she dies. What do you do?
Probably raise an eyebrow, ignore her wish, and wait for her to kick the bucket, so I can sign the paperwork and go home.
>9. They offer you one billion dollars, but the only condition is that you must spend the rest of your life having daily, mandatory sex with a close relative of your choosing. What do you decide?
Are you Justin Roiland?

I had a hard time answering this test. I don't understand hypothetical questions; my brain isn't capable of interpreting them. Sorry GP.

>>10949
>>10968
I'll check them out, thanks for the recommendation
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11001 es
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>>10995
>>10997
>She listened with absolute fascination to Rena's idea for the emotional development of her characters. Her eyes sparkled with admiration and a soft blush once again painted her cheekbones.

Katsumi: Hey... your idea for our characters is truly precious, Rena-chan. I think it's an incredible development arc... To say he never cared about the statue, that all he wanted was to be recognized and remembered by his loved ones, but upon realizing that they are all gone and that after his resurrection he has a new chance... to discover that simple companionship was all he needed to fill that void... It's just so beautiful! Especially the part where you say it's useless not to be remembered when you yourself forgot why you were doing things: protecting others without expecting anything in return. You have a natural talent for writing stories, Rena-chan.

>She let out a light but somewhat resigned giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Katsumi: Although, well... if I tried to pursue acting as a voice actress or anything artistic... my dad would kill me on the spot. He only has eyes for baseball and wouldn't let me do anything other than train.

>Suddenly, upon hearing Rena comment with a laugh, "unless of course the president takes our campaign to a tragic abyss of endless hardship where we have to brutally betray and kill each other," Katsumi turned her gaze towards Kinoko. The president merely brought her fingers to her lips and mimed zipping her mouth shut to maintain absolute silence. A good Game Master never reveals spoilers of their dark plans. Immediately after, Kinoko began frantically writing things in her notebook, keeping it hidden behind her Game Master screen so neither of them could snoop on what she was plotting.

>She gave Rena a sweet and sincere smile when the girl confessed that she was glad to know that her good mood made Katsumi feel better.

Katsumi: I'm also very happy about that, truly... By the way, the Hakotsukuri beach we're going to is usually practically empty. And honestly, I prefer there to be no one there because I'm so embarrassed for people to see me in a bikini... I feel like my rough and imposing figure makes others uncomfortable! Oh! And thank you very much for saying that my dad's Toyota Mega Cruiser is a nice color. The truth is, it's the only vehicle where my dad and I can both fit at the same time without crushing each other.
>The giantess let out a couple of childish giggles at her own comment, but out of nowhere, Rena's fingers once again settled on the flesh of her breasts.

Katsumi: ¡K-KYAAAAA!

>A sharp, deeply embarrassed shriek burst from the giant amazon's chest. Katsumi turned an intense shade of red from her ears down to her cleavage, her eyes trembling from sheer shock. She looked at Rena with extreme shyness as the girl praised the firmness of her anatomy.

Katsumi: T-Thank you for... for your encouraging words...

>For a moment, upon hearing Rena murmur the phrase "your soft breasts," Katsumi felt a strange tingling in her stomach and even wondered, heart racing, whether Rena might actually like her breasts. However, she quickly cleared her throat and coughed a couple of times to banish those lesbian improper and embarrassing thoughts from her mind.

>Then, when Rena went on to explain in detail that the story about dog tacos and other viral matters were nothing but debunked fake news, Katsumi watched her with wide eyes, paying utmost and absolute attention. Katsumi wasn't particularly studious or well-informed about general culture, and being such a naive and trusting person, she tended to believe word-for-word any AI-generated video showing kittens dancing with babies. Knowing she didn't possess Rena's intellect, she chose to stay silent, slowly nodding her head to show she was listening. She thought showing respect and interest was the least she could do, since she didn't consider herself a complex person capable of holding deep or sophisticated conversations. Still, not wanting to remain completely out of the discussion and appear foolish, she gathered the courage to ask an innocent question.

Katsumi: So... is the anti-Argentinian campaign they were talking about real, or is that fake too?

>When the topic shifted to parental oddities, Katsumi raised her gaze to the ceiling, thoughtful.

Katsumi: Mmm... well, now that you mention it, my dad told me that when he was a child back in his hometown in Hyōgo Prefecture, he used to drink fresh bull's blood straight from the animal's neck to 'boost his vigor' and strength. So what you told me about your dad doesn't seem that abnormal to me, though it does sound pretty funny, honestly.

>She let out a few light chuckles, but at that instant, Rena playfully threatened to tickle her. Katsumi's reaction was immediate: she quickly crossed her arms over her ample chest, covering herself in panic and making a completely childish, frightened little face.
Katsumi: J-Just tickling? R-Really?

>She genuinely feared the girl's hands would start exploring her anatomy again. To break the tension from her own fright, Katsumi suddenly let out a loud, abrupt:

Katsumi: HA! Hey, but... what do you mean a 'blind date'? Are you seriously blindfolded when you go out to dinner? Or do you actually date guys who are really blind?

>She burst into loud laughter at her own silly, nonsensical jokes, though seconds later the laughter faded. Her face took on a melancholic weariness, and she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.

Katsumi: Honestly... I've never been on any kind of date before...

>Despite the slight sigh of exhaustion that slipped out, she tried to keep a gentle smile to avoid spoiling the mood and kept talking.

Katsumi: But seriously, the person we should really be worried about is my dad. I know him so well that I'm sure whatever's going to happen between him and your mom will happen whether we like it or not. Sometimes I think he should've been a kamikaze pilot in another life—he's that incredibly stubborn and headstrong.

>She sighed and stretched a little in her chair, making the wood creak faintly.

Katsumi: I don't know anything about martial arts. My dad only wants me to practice baseball day and night; he says if I start training in anything else I'll 'stray from our goal'... Still, I really admire your strength, Rena. Personally, the idea of hitting someone terrifies me; in fact, I can't even bring myself to kill the cockroaches that get into my room. I carefully catch them in glass jars and release them in the garden... I hate violence with all my being.

>At that moment, Rena showed her a photo of her father. Katsumi blushed slightly as Rena leaned in so close to show her the phone screen. Being pressed together like that, Katsumi could feel the girl's body heat and caught her scent.

Katsumi (thinking): S-She smells... smells incredibly good...

>Not wanting to stare at her face and die of embarrassment, Katsumi forced her eyes to focus on the photo of the man. With a warm smile, she leaned slightly toward Rena's ear and whispered softly.

Katsumi: You definitely inherited almost everything from your dad... but let me tell you something: you're way, way prettier than your mom, seriously.

>She emphatically nodded several times to emphasize her words before pulling back a little.
Katsumi: And answering what you were asking before... the reason I joined the roleplaying club was because I got kicked out of the baseball club. I think I mentioned it briefly before, but I had no choice. Practically all the other sports clubs have banned me due to the influence of the baseball club president... that scumbag tried to... abuse me...

>An expression of deep disgust and sadness crossed the amazon's face as she remembered such a trauma. Wanting to immediately banish those dark thoughts, she shook her head and decided to resume the roleplaying game with Thorgar. She cleared her throat, hardened her facial features, and once again adopted that deep, raspy male voice.

Katsumi: The horned knight grumbles between his teeth, letting out a puff of hot air through the slits of his helmet upon hearing the witch Samantha's words... He knows perfectly well that the little one is right about something: trust isn't given, it's earned on the battlefield.

>She continued the narration, maintaining the Iberian accent with notable effort but with great dramatic delivery.

Katsumi: Thorgar doesn't add another word. Instead of arguing, he crouches low enough and makes an imperious gesture to the witch to climb onto his armor. Carefully, he lets the little one settle and sit directly on his imposing armored shoulder. The horned knight stands up as tall as he is, reaching a colossal height, and looking at Samantha out of the corner of his eye from under the metal, he states in a deep voice...

>She adjusted her tone to play the role of the undead.

Katsumi: —Any other miserable wretch who had dared to speak to me with such insolence, I would have crushed their head with my hammer without a second thought... You should be grateful that you possess a wise tongue and an appearance that vaguely reminds me of my deceased daughter. Only for that reason will I deign to protect you with my life during this journey... but don't get me wrong, little witch: don't think for a second that I intend to strike up a friendship with you.—

>Making a gesture with her arms.

Katsumi: Having said that, the horned knight begins to march with giant strides towards the mysterious tower in the cemetery, leaving behind all those who are not capable of keeping up with his pace.

>Returning to her normal posture, Katsumi smiled with satisfaction and picked up the bottle of Squirt she was sharing with Rena again. She took a long, carefree swig, leaving the mouthpiece completely marked with her saliva. She wiped her lips with her forearm and returned to her soft and delicate feminine voice.

Katsumi: The truth is, I don't think wizards or witches really existed in real life, you know? I think that's all pure invention from books.
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11002 es
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>>11000
>>10999
>>10998
>Gore Predator's grotesque grin vanished in a fraction of a second as he glanced down at his dice. The number reflected on the plastic faces was shamefully low, insufficient to achieve the depraved feat with which he intended to desecrate the cardboard leg. Hisao let out a long sigh of relief, silently thanking fortune for being merciful. However, as he turned his own eyes towards his dice, the small black-haired boy couldn't help but look at them with a veil of contained fear, swallowing loudly at the uncertainty of what cruel rolling fate might have in store for him in the following turns.

>Mustering the courage not to break the game's rhythm, Hisao resumed Cajaman's narration right from the uncomfortable incident with the rat. The black-haired boy continued with the scene.

Hisao: "W-Well... Cajaman feels the sudden push on his leg! But instead of getting scared, angry, or kicking the poor rat-man... The knight smiles with immense tenderness! He lowers his cardboard head and, with one of his large pink boxing gloves, gently caresses Ratman's deformed head, carefully stroking the few long, coarse hairs left on his scalp. “Oh, little scruffy friend! It's clear you had a lot of affection to give and didn't know how to express it!”

>Hisao looked at Bonita-chan across the table, fully immersing himself in his hero's role to address The Penitent Pilgrim.

Hisao: Cajaman turns to look at the Penitent, who seems annoyed by the creature's presence, and says to him in a melodious cartoon voice: “Please, new friend, don't say ugly or mean things to this creature! All creations in this world, no matter how wrinkled, grayish, and disheveled they may look, are beautiful forest animals that deserve to be treated with the utmost respect, compassion, and love. If you say ugly words, your tongue will rot and then you won't be able to sing happy songs in the morning!” Furthermore, Cajaman adds proudly: "And don't worry about my leg! The delicious toasted marshmallow scent emanating from my recycled cardboard armor can never be removed from the face of the earth by a little sneeze of affection!”

>The black-haired boy began to suggest names for Gore Predator's mangy creature, using his character's voice.

Hisao: “From today on, we'll call you... Cotton Ball! Or perhaps... Chocolate Drop! Or... Mr. Sweet Whiskers!”

>Before Hisao could continue, Gore Predator suddenly interrupted. Modulating his voice to sound extremely shrill, high-pitched, and raspy, similar to that of a tiny, hungry demon, he narrated his character's response while maintaining a completely serious expression.

Gore Predator: Ratman ignores the cardboard caresses. He introduces himself with an unbearable screech: “My name is Varkag, the sewer scoundrel, you damn piece of trash!” And immediately after, the rat-man takes advantage of the proximity to begin frantically licking the crotch of Cajaman's cereal armor with his rough, slimy, and profoundly nauseatingly smelly tongue.

>Upon hearing the disgusting description, Hisao preferred not to engage in verbal conflict. He said absolutely nothing, limiting himself to giving Gore Predator a pleading look with a "please, don't continue with that" expression. Immediately after, the black-haired boy ignored the goth and refocused all his attention on Bonita-chan to continue the flow of his roleplay.
Hisao: C-Continuing... Cajaman notices that the Penitent is once again having a harrowing coughing fit due to the ashen fog. My knight places his boxing gloves on his chest, deeply concerned, and whispers to him with extreme sweetness: “For heaven’s sake! Please don’t speak for a moment, my friend. You have to take care of that harmonious and beautiful voice you have, don’t let the cold air hurt it.” Cajaman takes a step forward, his cereal boxes crunching, and looks the Penitent in the eyes with absolute sincerity. “I want you to know something very important: I don’t want to scam you or ask for anything in return! The only thing I truly desire in this world is to be able to give you a hug so warm and strong that it heals all the sadness you carry in your little heart, and to see a huge smile drawn on your face before the sun sets!”

>Hisao narrated how Cajaman felt no disgust or fear in approaching Lebedeve's character's grotesque figure.

Hisao: Cajaman doesn’t care at all about touching the Penitent. He doesn’t care if his skin looks wrinkled and withered like nachos with chili con carne, or if he looks like a Dubai chocolate cake with crunchy almond pieces sticking out of his sores. My knight explains joyfully: “My armor made of recycled cardboard protects me from all evil because it is built with the power of recycling and pure love! Nothing bad can touch my heart as long as I wear these boxes of joy!”

>Leaning his elbows on the table, Hisao launched into a heroic speech.

Hisao: “Listen to me well, walker of the fog! I am Sir Cardboard! Lord Cajaman! The protector of the helpless, the friend of little animals, and the knight of eternal hugs! If you are looking for a cure for the terrible illness that afflicts your body or the sorrow that gnaws at your soul, you don’t have to walk alone through this ugly cemetery! I will go with you to the ends of the earth, I will hold your hand if you feel tired, and I will fight any ugly monster with the strength of friendship! We will find that medicine together, I solemnly promise you on my paper helmet!”

>Upon finishing his dialogue, Hisao smiled from ear to ear. He moved his little head with overflowing joy and even began to unconsciously shake his little feet under the table. The boy was truly animated and enthusiastic about roleplaying hand-in-hand with Bonita-chan, demonstrating a pure passion that was reflected in each of his gestures, movements, and illuminated gazes.

>However, breaking the sweet atmosphere, Yowai appeared out of nowhere during the action turn. The fragile-looking girl took her dice, rolled them on the wood with a dry sound, and announced the intervention of her tough fantasy character.

Yowai: The dwarf warrior, the fearsome Mad Pricker, emerges from the shadows of the mausoleum. Seeing the scene, he lunges at full speed to try and save Cajaman with a single blow.

>Hisao stopped dead in his tracks, lowering his arms and becoming completely confused by the sudden action. Breaking character for a second, the dark-haired boy tilted his head to the side and asked with complete innocence:

Hisao: W-What? Save Cajaman...? From whom...?

>Yowai gave him an extremely confident and mysterious smile as she arranged her tokens on the table.

Yowai: Hehe... You'll see.

1d100 = 55
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11003 es
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>>11000
>>10997
>>10982
>>10990
>>10902
>>10901
>>10890
>The president rubs her hands together with wild enthusiasm, listening with delight to the incessant clatter of dice rolling and bouncing against the map parchment. Seeing that most members have made their first rolls to probe the graveyard's darkness, she adjusts her glasses bridge with her middle finger and lets out a long, theatrical sigh. The classroom light seems to dim under the influence of her voice, which immediately transforms back into that deep, grave, poetic, and magnetic register, worthy of a seasoned narrator who has mastered the art of transporting human minds to ruined realms.

>Fixing her bright eyes first on Thorgar and Samanta, the Stone Scholar, Kinoko makes a slow gesture in the air to guide everyone's vision toward the majestic structure that dominates the dead valley's horizon.

Kinoko: The rolls of the Stone Scholar and the Horned Knight are impeccable, precise, and charged with almost heretical fortune. The fragile devotee advances on the shoulders of the armored behemoth. Unlike the mud, mass graves, and stench of rot that suffocate the lower level, the interior of this stone bulwark breathes a dead dignity. The air becomes icy, dry, and dense, imbued with a stale odor of burnt wax, fossilized myrrh, and ancient granite. Along the wide gallery, the echo of each step resonates on the walls of lime and alabaster, where infinitely better-maintained tombs, niches, and sarcophagi are observed. Here rest the remains of nobles and champions who managed to earn the right to transcend in memory through refined mausoleums.

>The president tilts her head, lowering her voice slightly to detail the carvings adorning the tower's interior walls.

Kinoko: Stone statues guard the darkness with blind gazes. The effigies of mythical warriors from the ancient world can be seen, such as Sir Varek the Sin Eater, whose iron mace crushed the wasteland hordes at the black pit battle, or Aethelgard the Silent Spear, the legendary guardian whose eyes never blinked in the face of shadow terror. Each niche is adorned with eroded noble crests and bronze plates covered in green patina. However, there is no life here; only a majestic silence interrupted by the sharp whistle of the wind seeping through the frameless windows.

>She extends an arm over the table, mimicking the flow of a cold draft as she continues with the exact account of what was found at the summit.
Kinoko: Two statues depicting robed figures stand by the stairs leading to the upper level of the graveyard... You hear the deafening roar of the cold wind cutting across the summit as you approach the end; once you cross, your eyes are treated to the majestic sight of the entire graveyard valley. You soon perceive a presence nearby... Grief, the longing for someone no longer present, can be as deep and painful as an open wound. The lone knight was defeated long ago, his path twisted since the day he lost his other half; despite his imposing appearance, he is entirely harmless, he will not defend himself from any attack.

>She sketches a small, wry smile before adding, out of character, that both players have had monumental luck in encountering a figure consumed by sorrow and melancholy instead of running headlong into some aberrant, entrail-thirsty fiend. Immediately after, Kinoko shifts her posture, hunching slightly, crossing her arms over her lap, and lowering her head to voice the Lone Knight, who remains kneeling on the icy flagstones, his forehead resting against the marble of his fallen comrade's sarcophagus.

Kinoko: "Humm? Are you among the living? If so, this is no place for you, the tower was plundered many years ago and you will clearly find no way out here... I am merely offering my company to a fellow soul... I don't think a stranger should concern themselves with that in the slightest."' The knight's voice drips with such overwhelming, tragic sadness that the atmosphere in the tower feels heavy, suspended in absolute resignation. The figure does not move, does not raise its sword, nor show aggression; it simply contemplates the sculpted figure of its old battle-mate in eternal mourning, demonstrating that while it will not respond with violence, perhaps a little guidance would do the wanderers good if they know how to listen to the breeze.

>Leaving the Stone Scholar and the antlered knight atop the tower, President Kinoko shifts her feline gaze towards Rena and Katsumi, then sweeps her dark eyes over Hisao, Bonita-chan, GP, and Yowai. Though she first begins to narrate what awaited the penitent.

Kinoko: Meanwhile, in the depths of the grounds, far from the nobility of the tower and submerged in the pestilent mist of the mass graves, the Penitent Pilgrim's tracking bears fruit amidst the withered weeds.

>Leaning over the scroll, the narrator recites with historical solemnity:
Kinoko: Deep within the graveyard, far from the other graves, lies an open coffin containing the "Whistling Death," held tightly by its last owner. A unique weapon that emits a very characteristic sound as it cuts through the air.

>She clarifies that this legendary blade has the power to unleash terrible storms upon the flesh of its enemies if wielded with conviction, and that the penitent might well take it for his cause. However, the solemnity of the moment is brutally shattered by the disastrous intervention of Cajaman and the abominable Ratman. With a descriptive ability that borders on the masterful and the disturbing, Kinoko details the interaction between the creatures.

Kinoko: The human beast known as Ratman, dominated by his grotesque instincts, lunges at Cajaman's leg. The human rat rubs its mangy, slimy skin against the armor, leaving a nauseating trail of pre-semen and rotten smegma that soaks Cajaman's limb as he charges the leg with unrestrained impetus, although fortunately for the victim, the spawn does not manage to culminate the act with a cumshot.

>Her gaze wanders everywhere.

Kumiko: At that precise moment, the Penitent attempts to deliver a precise kick to push the vermin away from his companion. However, the surface of the stone is completely covered by the unpleasant, viscous fluids of the rat. The Penitent Pilgrim humiliatingly loses his balance, his feet slipping on the smegma slime, and he falls face-first onto the ground. To his absolute misfortune, the penitent's face lands directly on the exposed crotch of the abominable Ratman.

>He slams the table.

Kinoko: The impact is dry and dreadful. The Penitente's face is buried in the beast's crotch, where a fetid, ammoniac stench of sewer droppings and rancid meat instantly suffocates his lungs. Ratman's member is not human; it is a deformed mutation, a grotesque, veiny tube resembling the member of a gigantic rat, swollen with infections and macerated in purulent secretions.

>She makes faces of disgust.

Kinoko: Despite the disaster, Cajaman tries to maintain his composure and offer his help to the Penitente to coordinate the exploration. But just as he opens his mouth to speak, the sepulchral earth beneath his feet cracks. A skeletal claw, with absurdly long fingers and pale knuckles, emerges from the grave and grips Cajaman's ankle with the force of a vise, pulling him into the darkness of an empty tomb.

>Out of nowhere, he points at Yowai.
Kinoko: Before Cajaman is swallowed by the pit, the dwarf knight, acting with unexpected sweetness and impulsivity, does a somersault over the terrain. His gauntlets bristling with iron spikes fall like a hammer on the bony limb, shattering the claw in a burst of dry bone splinters. Cajaman is saved from taking real damage, only being shocked by the scare, but the din has attracted the attention of what dwells beneath the ground.

>She hands over the area's enemy stat sheet.

Kinoko: The earth rumbles. A colossal lump rises among the broken tombstones until it reveals itself in all its nightmarish magnificence. It is LIVING GRAVE, a colossal mass of packed earth, embedded tombstones, and pressed skeletons forming a living torso, crowned by a large, antlered skull illuminated by two sockets of hyperborean red fire.

>She points to each creature on the stat sheet.

Kinoko: Accompanying this living tomb, two hellish serpents sprout from the mud: the BONE SNAKE. Two monumental serpents made entirely of primate vertebrae and sharp ribs that intertwine like bone centipedes, topped with human skulls whose eyes glow a bloody crimson.

>She mimics the walk of a centipede, constantly tapping her fingers on the table.

Kinoko Ichinose: 'The two bone serpents slither, producing a dry, deafening clatter that makes your hair stand on end. Completely ignoring the Penitent, the Dwarf Knight, and even the purulent rat—whom fortune grants the option to flee cowardly and abandon their ally to his fate—the two Bone Snakes fix their attention solely on Cajaman. With nightmarish speed, both serpents launch themselves in a spiral attack, opening their bony jaws to sink their calcium fangs directly into Cajaman's flesh. Meanwhile, the colossal Living Grave makes no attempt to attack; it simply interposes its massive body of earth, tombstones, and rocks in front of the serpents, functioning as an impenetrable shield that absorbs any blow aimed at those bone vipers.

>With a look of professional challenge, President Kinoko takes the d50 and d20 in the name of the skeletal monsters, rolling them on the wood with a dry sound to determine the snakes' impact on Cajaman.

-------

<LIVING GRAVE
100/100 HP
-Ability: Can absorb damage taken, absorbing a quarter of the damage it receives and can turn it into a buff for its accuracy dice when attacking.

1d50 = 39

1d20 = 20

<BONE SNAKE
50/50 HP
-Ability: If it lands 3 attacks of 20, it poisons you with constant damage of +10.

1d50 = 44

1d20 = 17

<BONE SNAKE
50/50 HP
-Ability: If it lands 3 attacks of 20, it poisons you with constant damage of +10.

1d50 = 5

1d20 = 12
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11004 es
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>A well-decorated purple sheet with a printed photo glued at the end.

Hello everyone! My name is Kuma Hoshino. It's a huge pleasure to meet you! 😊

I often wake up very hungry in the middle of the night, around 3 a.m.! It's in those moments of nocturnal inspiration that I've created my most delicious and comforting recipes. It makes me very, very happy to think that you might try making them at home. Please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! I'd love to hear your opinions, whatever they may be.

Today, to inaugurate this space, I'd like to share a very special recipe with you. It's a classic in my midnight repertoire: a wonderful Natto Cake! I know fermented soybeans can have a unique aroma and texture (a little sticky, hehe! 😅), but I assure you that when they're transformed into this cake, they take on a sweet and creamy flavor, perfect for satisfying a sweet craving at those hours. Plus, it's super fun and unique.

Without further ado, here are the steps to create your own little cake of sticky happiness:

---

Natto Cake Recipe

Description: A fluffy and surprisingly moist cake, where natto caramelizes and blends with a rich, tangy cream cheese frosting, creating a contrast of flavors and textures that will surprise you. The fermentation aroma softens with baking, turning into a delicious sweetness!

Prep time: 20 minutes
Cook time: 45 minutes
Servings: 6 people Although I usually eat it all myself hehehe

Ingredients:

* 1 cup (200g) Natto
* 1/4 cup (50ml) rice vinegar
* 1/2 cup (100g) unsalted butter, melted
* 1 cup (200g) granulated sugar
* 2 large eggs
* 1 1/2 cups (180g) all-purpose flour
* 1 teaspoon baking soda
* 1/2 teaspoon salt
* 1/2 cup (100ml) buttermilk or whole milk with a few drops of lemon
* 8 oz (226g) cream cheese, softened
* 1/4 cup (50g) unsalted butter, softened
* 2 cups (240g) powdered sugar, sifted
* 1 teaspoon wasabi paste (adjust to taste)
* 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
* 1/4 cup (50ml) honey
* 1 tablespoon soy sauce
* 1 birthday candle (optional)

Instructions:

1. Preheat and prepare the natto:
* Preheat oven to 175°C (350°F). Grease and flour a 20 cm (8 inch) round cake pan or a square pan of the same size.
* In a small bowl, mix 1 cup of natto with the rice vinegar. Let stand for 10 minutes. This step helps to mellow the flavor and aroma. Drain the natto well, rinse lightly with cold water, and pat dry with paper towels. Finely chop the natto.


2. Cake Preparation:
* In a large bowl, cream together the melted butter and sugar until smooth and creamy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the chopped natto.
* In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, and salt.
* Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture in three parts, alternating with the buttermilk (or milk), beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Mix just until combined. Do not overmix.


3. Baking:
* Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
* Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until a wooden skewer inserted into the center comes out clean.
* Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes before inverting it onto a wire rack to cool completely.


4. Frosting Preparation:
* Cream Cheese Frosting: In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and softened butter until smooth and fluffy. Gradually add the powdered sugar, beating on low speed until incorporated. Stir in the wasabi paste and vanilla extract, and beat until smooth and creamy.
Natto Frosting: In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the remaining cup of natto, honey, and soy sauce. Cook, stirring gently, until the natto is caramelized and sticky, about 5 minutes. Let cool completely before using. This frosting may resemble the texture of baked beans.*


5. Assembling the Cake:
* Once the cake is completely cool, generously spread the wasabi cream cheese frosting over the top and sides.
* Top the cake with the caramelized natto frosting, spreading it evenly. The natto frosting should create a lumpy, glossy texture over the cream cheese, similar to the reference image.
* For a festive touch, place a birthday candle in the center! Light it and enjoy your heavenly natto cake!

Have so much fun making it! Don't forget to share a picture of your creation! Itadakimasu! 💖
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.11005 es
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>>11001
>Katsumi: Hey... your idea for our characters is really beautiful, Rena-chan. I think it's an incredible development arc... To say he never cared about the statue, that all he wanted was to be recognized and remembered by his loved ones, but upon realizing they are all gone and that after his resurrection he has a new chance... discovering that simple companionship was all he needed to fill that void... It's just so beautiful! Especially the part where you say it's useless not to be remembered when you yourself forgot why you were doing things: protecting others without expecting anything in return. You have a natural talent for writing stories, Rena-chan.
If you say so....
-I reply somewhat embarrassed, with a slight blush on my cheeks and looking down-

>Katsumi: Although, well... if I tried to become a voice actress or anything artistic... my dad would kill me on the spot. He only has eyes for baseball and wouldn't let me do anything other than train.
Hmmmm... I see
-Her expression changed to a serious one, with her brow slightly furrowed. Katsumi was describing her father as one of those controlling people who want to live out their unfulfilled dream through their children. Rena preferred to keep these thoughts to herself, she would find a way to help her later, but if she asked something-
Do you like playing baseball?

>Katsumi: I'm also very glad, really... By the way, the Hakotsukuri beach we go to is usually practically empty. And honestly, I prefer there to be no one, because I'm too embarrassed for people to see me in a bikini... I feel like my rough and imposing figure makes others uncomfortable! Oh! And thank you very much for saying that the color of my dad's Toyota Mega Cruiser is nice. The truth is, it's the only vehicle where my dad and I can fit at the same time without crushing each other.
-Rena looks her up and down, narrowing her eyes, then closes them completely and stays silent for a few seconds while replying with her eyes still closed-
I'm trying to imagine you in a bikini, but I don't know if you have any moles or scars, which prevents the mental image from being 100% accurate and is more frustrating, and about the blue color, I like blue, right now I'm imagining you in a blue bikini...
-Rena opens her eyes, somewhat tired- If you look the same in person as in my imagination, you surely look good, but it's something I should verify. If you go to the bathroom later, I'll accompany you. It won't be a bikini, but underwear would be a valid approximation for comparison.
-Rena didn't understand the extent of what she was asking. For her, it was normal. She knew girls changed together, she herself did it with her sister and mother. She also never understood that fear girls had of being seen in underwear but not in a bikini-

>Katsumi: Th-Thank you for... for your words of encouragement...
You're welcome, what matters is what's inside, it doesn't matter how you look on the outside... but you look good

>Katsumi: So... is the anti-Argentinian campaign they were talking about real or is it also fake?
-Rena's demeanor returns to that of a serious girl. She adopts a pose of an experienced war veteran. Her gaze is hidden behind her glasses, which catch the sunlight from the window-
You think it's a lie? The campaign is real, the real questions are "Why and to what end?" from disputes over football driven by far-left countries like Mexico or Spain and some resentful people from Latin American towns, to absurd tales of promised lands by Jews and I don't know how many other nonsense groups. It's believed that President Miller, Argentina, and the USA have been planning something in secret, and that in the southern country of the continent, "something" is being secretly manufactured. It's already public knowledge about the mecha factories that the gringos had installed in Patagonia and the Pampas, thus bringing a lot of investment and technology to the country, but why create a hate campaign? To make the country look bad, poor, and incapable? A smokescreen, do the stories of Antarctica and the Ningen sound familiar? Of hidden temples and ancient viruses like the mammoth with the zombie virus?
-Rena shows him a video-
https://youtu.be/6dw4gCdUrVg?si=Fu0z8On1MROwZ4wsthat happened in Russia, now, if we talk about the theories of viruses and ancient temples in Antarctica, think about it, which country has jurisdiction over Antarctica? Exactly, Argentina. People mistakenly say that (((THEY))) are the Jews, that's something (((THEY))) want people to believe, manipulating history from ancient times. Hitler was a pawn, to divert attention from (((THEY))) to create a scapegoat victim. The Jewish people were left as victims and at the same time as targets of criticism by the far-right and everyone who fell for that story, while (((THEY))) remain unpunished and free, tarnishing the name of the chosen people of God as the bible says. And if that's the case, why does the rumor arise that they want Argentina? JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 7, Steel Ball Run, the travels of Jesus Christ in America, the figure of the Japanese Jesus which is believed in by the rural people of Shingo in Aomori Prefecture, the creation of the Book of Mormon, the attack on Japan, Mormon missions traveling from the USA to all of Latin America but more so to Argentina in recent decades... I hope you understand where this is going.
-Rena's face darkens, it seemed the girl knew too much, she spoke as if she had studied for years, decades, that she was revealing classified information and that the important part had not yet come-
UFO sightings, wars, diseases, pandemics, racial segregation, this is something that (((THEY))) planned... but then, who are (((THEY)))? Saying they are the big magnates falls short, we all know that in every country there is a government behind it and a secret government, and that behind them there is a king of the world, like in One Piece, but who rules over the king? The reptilians? The aliens?... no.... Katsumi, I want you to understand that we could be in danger for knowing this, and that if I die, it wasn't suicide, but I will tell you who (((THEY))) are... (((THEY))) are nothing more and nothing less than... THE CLOWNS... why do you think they always say politicians are clowns? Because (((THEY = CLOWNS))), the clowns want to be the dominant species on the planet and they will destroy us all to achieve it.
-Rena's expression relaxes again and she takes a book out of her backpack to show it to Katsumi-
Of course, unless you have tangerines, that affects their balance, it says so in the book.
-She also shows him some tangerine peels she had in her backpack-
although I can't help but eat them... well, I don't have proof to refute what I said either, but it's an interesting theory, isn't it?
-she says with a slight smile-
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.11006 es
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>>11001
Part 2
>Katsumi: Mmm... well, now that you mention it, my dad told me that when he was a kid back in his hometown in Hyōgo prefecture, he used to drink fresh bull's blood straight from the animal's neck to 'increase his vigor' and strength. So what you told me about your dad doesn't seem that abnormal to me, although it does sound quite funny, honestly.
Isn't that something Attila the Hun did? I think I saw it in a movie.

>Katsumi: S-Just tickles? R-Really?
Well, I said tickles, I don't see how I could do more than that.

>Katsumi: HA! Hey, but... what do you mean 'blind date'? Do you cover your eyes with a blindfold to go to dinner? Or do you go out with guys who are actually blind?
I don't know, I've never had a date.
-Upon hearing Katsumi's laugh, he understood it was a joke-
Oh, it was a joke, sorry, I didn't get it but I reaffirm what I said before, your laugh is cute.

>Katsumi: Honestly... I've never had a date of any kind...
There are two of us.
-Then the spotlight turns on and Rena has an idea-
We can have a date, so we'll know what it feels like. I think it's going to karaoke and eating. According to mom, those are the first two steps to a good date. Then the third is varied, it's a place where both people must agree and be comfortable, but the fourth step always ends in a motel, or in isolated cases in a hospital. She didn't want to give me details about it, so I didn't ask. But well, if you want, we can have a date. I have money saved, although I can't sing, so I'd rather go to the movies than karaoke.

>Katsumi: But jokes aside, if there's anyone we really need to watch out for, it's my dad. I know him so well that I know that whatever is going to happen with him and your mom, will happen whether we want it to or not. Sometimes I think he should have been a kamikaze pilot in another life because of how incredibly foolish and stubborn he is.
Reincarnation is something that hasn't been scientifically proven yet, but it could be possible thanks to magic, like in isekais. At least your father lets you be part of the club, that's good, otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you right now.

>Katsumi: I don't know anything about martial arts. My dad just wants me to play baseball day and night; he says if I start practicing any other discipline I'll 'deviate from our goal'... Anyway, I really admire your strength, Rena. Personally, I'm terrified of the idea of hitting someone; in fact, I can't even kill the cockroaches that get into my room. I catch them very carefully in glass jars and release them in the garden... I hate violence with all my being.
You're doing it wrong... you should raise them and sell them. Cockroach farms pay decently, they grind them up and make protein powder, you've surely tried some from vending machines... about your father, I didn't want to say it before but he exhibits the typical behavior of wanting to live his dream through his son, or in this case, daughter...
-Rena looks down for a moment, looking at her own hands-
....I don't like it either. Violence isn't something I seek, it just finds me, and I've learned to live with it and use it to my advantage. If one day you see me exercising violence, I hope you don't hate me with all your being... at least with 10%.
-Rena turns to look at her, her usual poker face didn't quite match her somewhat sad tone of voice-
What would you like to do? If you weren't forced to play baseball.

>Katsumi: You definitely inherited almost everything from your dad... but let me tell you something: you are much, much prettier than your mom, really.
-Rena just stared at her with a little smile, she couldn't say anything, she didn't know what to say, she was dying inside, Katsumi was the person who had given her the most compliments outside of her family, and now she was telling her she was much prettier than her mom, this was a bomb for the young autistic girl, her heart was beating fast, she started to sweat and her whole body trembled slightly, with every nod of Katsumi's head, Rena felt even heavier as if she were being wrapped in an invisible hug, and Katsumi already had her in her arms without knowing it-
>Katsumi: And answering what you asked before... the reason I joined the role-playing club was because they kicked me out of the baseball club. I think I already mentioned it briefly, but I had no choice. Practically all the other sports clubs have banned me due to the influence of the baseball club president... that bastard tried to... abuse me...
-And out of nowhere, that was like a bucket of cold water, Rena stared at her, she wasn't going to ask for details, not now, even though she was dying of curiosity, so she just did what she thought was most sensible, grabbed Katsumi's hand and squeezed it, letting her know she was there with her, and also continuing the role-playing game-

IN GAME

Rena: Samanta lets out a little laugh, making the gesture of covering her mouth with her hand, only an expressionless gesture could be seen from her cold stone mask in contrast to her words.

Samanta: ju ju ju, The once withered temper of steel heats up again over a slow fire to be molded like a fine sword? being compared to someone from the past who lives in memories is flattering, does she wish to tell more about the one who in life was blood of her blood? I may not be her, but by merely mentioning that I evoked a slight memory of her, I can assure you that she lives within you, and I do not confuse friendship, as I told you sir, this will only be a journey, and a chat to lighten the long silence of an uncertain journey that could be good or bad, I have no sight or smell, but I can talk

OFF GAME
-After Katsumi drank from the bottle, Rena just wiped it with her sleeve, then took a drink, it didn't disgust her, she just didn't want to share saliva like that, not like a kiss... a kiss? why was she thinking about a kiss now? she quickly stopped thinking about it, took the squirt gun and put it on the table, now... she wanted to do something for the role-play-

>Katsumi: The truth is I don't think wizards or witches really existed in real life, you know? I think all that is pure invention from books.
.....
-Rena didn't answer, she was blushing from what she had just thought, but she took a breath and sighed, she had just said recently that she wasn't good at singing, but it was something that had occurred to her, so she decided to ignore Katsumi's question for a moment..-

Rena: As the knight began the journey, little Samanta began to sing, it wasn't exactly a magical chant, just something improvised at the moment, something about her god, and about a denied sky
https://youtu.be/bW0gkWJiDHo?si=jy-JQnbFW3otA6lS-Rena then sang, everyone could hear her, it was a short song to set the mood for the scene, and as it began, it ended-

.....answering your question, I like to believe that magic existed, but disappeared, there is a lot of proof of it, miracles themselves are part of it, maybe, ...magic didn't disappear completely, and it still flows and coexists daily with us in our day to day...existing in ways that we don't quite understand
-She says this while taking Katsumi's hand again, she was going to say something... but stopped, so she thought of something else to say-

Rena: witches are real -she points to bibi- she is the proof
-And maybe saying that meeting Katsumi and role-playing with her was something magical.... but it would be too much for Rena to say that now, right? it's not the time or place-
Rolero Sinhalite-dc2107 No.11007 es
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>>11003
>>11002
But before all of that happened. When I was on my way into the forest, I noticed a tomb, half-open. I left the mass aside and pushed the rock lid with all my strength, until it fell to the ground revealing a corpse clinging to its weapon, who faithfully accompanied it in life.
"......"
I look in silence, with respect for the blade and its bearer, and after a brief mortuary greeting for it to rest in peace, I put my hand into the tomb pulling off that dagger from its mummified fingers, without detail or delicacy, breaking its bones with the pull if it's too tightly held. With this blade in my possession, I move it a bit in the air, and I put it in my sack.
.....}
Everything happens very quickly and very messily. While the rat tried to mate with Cajaman's leg, I tried to throw it away with a kick, but before I could even realize it, Fiusfhh slipped me with the esmegma of the floor, falling face-first against the rat's groin, like in the anime but worse. Fortunately, I was already used to smelling and seeing things equal or more nauseating, so I just try to stand up from the floor, with the help of my mace.
"...."
Then Cajaman comes up with names, quite nice and sweet, but Ratman didn't like those nicknames at all, insulting him. I look at Ratman, a sinister smile draws under my rag.
"Me gusta Señor Bigotitos Dulces"
I say, ignoring his entire presentation, and pinching his cheek as if he were a grandmother, then I notice how this one starts to lick desperately.
"Mira Caja....."
"Parece que le caes bien"
''Then I get that voice attack, almost healing my rotten throat. While my asthmatic breathing was so loud that you could hear the phlegm in the lungs, Caja gets worried and starts talking to me, in a way too melodic for what I'm used to, but I don't take it badly. Then he speaks the voice that will accompany me.
"..."
":..........."
"¿De verdad?"
"..."
"Oh...."
"............"
I doubted in answering him something, but in the end after thinking for a while, I supposed that I had no option.
"...."
"I'm called uhm... Pilgrim"
I say, accepting without accepting, his company.... But then........ Something grabs Cajaman's foot, and from the sky falls another being.
"¡¡¡....!!!"
I raise my mace, while I see how that skeletal hand coming from the afterlife tries to drag Cajaman towards its mortuary hole, but thanks to the spiky being falling from the sky, he is saved. But there was no need to celebrate yet.
"..."
A living tomb coming out of the worst nightmares accompanied by two skeletal snakes land on our path. My hands almost as rotten as the corpses that were found here grip the handle of my weapon, positioning myself in front of Sugar Whiskers and Cajaman. And without thinking much, I throw a strong hit against the tomb, trying to crack it, or at least flip it to the ground, like the video of the toast bread falling.
>Then I look at the Roll Master.
"I said I attacked the Living Tomb because it's in front of the snakes, but it's not mandatory if you want to, right?"

>After that, I roll my dice. I wanted to know if it was like those plays of "PvZ nut, you have to kill me first to kill the snakes".

1d50 = 40

1d20 = 2
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>>11003
-Rena listens attentively and with utmost care while still holding Katsumi's hand-
>>She lets out a small, cunning smile before adding, out of character, that both players have had monumental luck in encountering a figure consumed by grief and melancholy instead of running headfirst into some aberrant creature thirsty for entrails. Immediately after, Kinoko shifts her posture, hunching slightly, crossing her arms over her lap, and lowering her head to interpret the voice of the Lone Knight, who remains kneeling on the icy flagstones, his forehead resting against the marble of his fallen comrade-in-arms' sarcophagus.
A good start

>Kinoko: "Humm? Are you among the living? If so, this is no place for you, the tower was plundered many years ago and you will clearly find no exit here... I am merely offering my company to a fellow being... I don't think a stranger should concern themselves with that in the slightest."' The knight's voice drips with such overwhelming and tragic sadness that the atmosphere in the tower feels heavy, suspended in absolute resignation. The figure does not move, does not raise its sword, nor show aggression; it simply contemplates the sculpted figure of its old battle comrade in eternal mourning, demonstrating that while it will not respond with violence, perhaps a little guidance would be beneficial to the wanderers if they know how to listen to the breeze.

I have a question, can he be recruited? I'll try to do it, ahem
-Rena grabs the squirt bottle and takes a swig, the bottle was already less than half full-

IN GAME
Rena: Samanta is calmly sitting on Thorgar's shoulder, feeling the icy breeze, the humidity, and trying to savor the atmosphere, while hearing the rumble of her now new companion's steps, both continue until they encounter a lone knight who speaks to them

Samanta: No longer alive, but transcending death is something I still don't understand, but nevertheless it was possible and it brought us here, we seek no riches, perhaps to ascend to the highest point to guide us so my companion can glimpse what lies beyond the horizon, and thus have a clear path, but guided by your words, the ideal path would be to turn back and descend....

Rena: Samanta's jovial voice stops for a few moments, and when she speaks again there is some sadness in her voice
Samanta: But I can know, oh noble warrior, what is it that weighs on you so much? The weight of your words makes my soul weep, I correct myself, it's not your words, it's the way you say them, I feel your melancholy, you carry a lot, would you like to join us? We are just two wandering travelers looking for a way out, my companion here shares a lot with you, you are not obligated to come if you don't want to, but if you know the way out would it be too much trouble for you to accompany us and guide us at least there?
Rena: Samanta kneels and touches the tomb next to the knight

Samanta: a final noble act in life, an act of genuine and selfless chivalry since we have nothing else to offer but our empathy, if you refuse, we will leave and leave you in the peace of the solitude you have decided will be your rest after great battles, but I tell you something.
You are still breathing, we understand that life is not eternal, we are simple mortals in a world of dead gods, death is something we all experience sooner or later, mourning those who are no longer here is not disrespecting them, but living honoring their legacy, that is something that in my view is something that would motivate someone to live, You may be alone today, but you should never lose faith that one day, you will be reunited with those who were by your side in life.

Rena: these words were not only for the lonely knight, they were also directed at Thorgar since the young woman felt a great similarity between the two knights....

OFF GAME
So....is it okay? can you recruit her, president? If I have to throw the DIE OF DESTINY I will, unless my companion has anything to object to, do you want to say something like Thorgar Katsumi chan?

-Rena said looking at both of them-

oh, one more thing, I have pebble projectile, I would like to know how it works, if there are statues do they break and turn into projectiles? can I do the same with walls? and I know it's too soon, but I'm excited to know if I can control statues, if yes, that's something Samanta would think, she also has high intelligence, I know I should forget a spell, but if it's possible, right?
-Rena said with some excitement while looking at Kinoko-


>>11004
Rena's note: Would you be so kind as to make one to bring it and share it at the club? I was interested since I read that it could be sweet, I would like to try it and thus try to replicate the exact flavor once I'm home

Can you bring more sweet recipes? I like cakes, strawberry, blackberry, peach, and even better if they have all 3 fruits, I like moist and cold cakes.

The only thing I didn't like was reading that you use wasabi and that it gives it a spicy touch, but I can tolerate it to try the original recipe and then modify it to my personal taste, I can pay you if you want if you consider that your effort should be financially compensated and thus be able to bring a cake.
Bibi Marialite-eaba11 No.11009 es
Niggers, I wanted to tell you that I was masturbating and I broke my hand, but I dislocated a finger while disassembling the computer by applying force with a screwdriver, I'll be back tomorrow because they're taking off the cast tomorrow and I'll be able to write without discomfort.

Your most beloved power bottom, Bibi.
El gordo Tulite-2cd290 No.11010 es
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>>10966
I'm only going to answer the ininrol part because I'm already falling too far behind.

IIIEWEEG!! GRAHHR!! EKEJE!!!

The cold stone coffin chills his back, forcing him to wake with a jolt that ends in a bang against the lid of his own tomb. The little space alongside the darkness unsettles him, scratching and clawing while he shrieks in a high, ragged tone in an attempt to escape.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

When he finally manages to get out, he shoves the heavy coffin to the ground and lunges at it again and again. He hits it, kicks it, stomps on it, jumps on it, until he breaks it and smashes it to pieces. He wasn't doing it out of hate, spite, or even fear of the object that imprisoned him. The true motive behind his actions was an extremely greedy one. The coffin's large size and weight made it impossible for him to carry it with him, but it belonged to him, there was no doubt it belonged to him. If he can't have it, then he will destroy it, so no one else will have it.


>>10977

Derf will not give any name! Derf's name belongs only to Derf! None shall take Derf's name

Derf's body was extremely skeletal, pale, dirty, and unkempt. The mind that ruled over that creature that could vaguely be called human was not much different. His atrophied psyche made it impossible for him to understand his own words, causing him to fail to understand that he had already given his name. That was just one of his oddities, another being his way of speaking. Not only did he speak in screams, but those screams were not even directed at the face of the person he was speaking to. His sharp shrieks were like a death cry, as they always came from too low a height. He spoke to the feet, not the person, as he did not wish to even give his gaze to others.

>>10987

YOUR SON BELONGS TO ME WOMAN!! YOU BELONG TO ME!! DON'T LOSE SIGHT OF DERF'S BELONGINGS!!
The woman's hysterical shaking puts Derf on guard. Taking a step back, he tightly grips the collar around his neck and replies in an irritated tone. The woman's story reminds him of something. Yes, he too is looking for someone, surely that person is the same one the woman is looking for. Which means she lost her precious treasure. Furious, Derf climbs onto the woman's back, tearing off pieces of her cape and hair while shouting and scolding her for her mistake.

>>10991

PUAGH! Your delicacies do not please Derf's tongue! Fulfill your duty to bring better delicacies!

Standing on top of the woman, Derf spots a colorful coffin that catches his eye. With a leap that knocks the woman to the ground, Derf approaches the brightly decorated tomb and observes it closely. The large number of papers and drawings on it confuse him; they didn't look like treasure, nor did they seem like someone's belongings. Were they perhaps food? Believing them to be some kind of candy, Derf tears one off and puts it in his mouth. Only to end up spitting it onto the cardboard knight's feet, to whom he demands something tastier.

>>10979

Treasure? Treasures belong to me! No one has the right to lay hands on them, Derf will not allow it!

His ears perk up as he hears one of his favorite words. Like a rabid dog, he ran on all fours until he reached the stairs leading to the tower. The first attempt to climb in that posture resulted in a fall from the fourth step, the same with the second and third attempts. Learning his lesson, Derf straightened up as much as his hunched back allowed and began to climb the steps one by one with a demented smile on his face.

>>11003

LIAR! You hide the treasures, you try to keep Derf away from them, but Derf sees through your lies!

Catching up with the others who had climbed, Derf encounters the imposing lone knight who denies them passage. Exploding with rage, Derf points at him and accuses him of lying. He wasn't going to let anyone keep him away from his treasures, so, ready to confront him, Derf leaps at his face and begins to stab him.

1d100 = 82 (I don't think rolling the d100 is worth it anymore, but just in case)

1d50 = 14
1d20 = 5
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.11011 es
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>>11009
You still have more fingers, I say I say, I hope you recover soon, if you need to rest do so and you will be waited for, I won't let the little androgyne bibi be forgotten by anyone, bibi lives

>>11010
....Did you make Gollum? or at least get inspired by him...interesting
IN GAME
Rena: so....I guess it's a no...ahem ....A scrawny, almost skeletal creature emerged from its own coffin, screaming violently that the name was only his, Samanta couldn't see it, and luckily couldn't smell it either, but she knew it had to be a repulsive being both in physical appearance and personality...
Samanta: you possess your own name, but you must see if you possess your own destiny
OFF GAME
Yeah, that's all, we go our separate ways, good luck on your adventure.

>Treasure? Treasures belong to me! No one has the right to lay their hands on these, Derf will not allow it!
>Treasure? Treasures belong to me! No one has the right to lay their hands on these, Derf will not allow it!
So...are you following us?
-Rena looks at Kinoko-
do we have to fight him? I wouldn't want to kill another player so soon, so Samanta would attack to knock him out and thus avoid trouble, and so that her huge companion doesn't have to get his hands dirty either, I would prefer dialogue but he attacked first, so, I will roll the dice, depending on the result and what the president dictates I will roleplay accordingly, meanwhile... Samanta just raises her staff to redirect the stones from the place directly to the creature's head, not to kill, just to stun and knock out
1d50 = 48

1d20 = 4

and just in case -rolls the DIE OF DESTINY
1d100 = 52
Kumiko##eULHjo Azurite-1ac208 No.11012 es
>>10980
>it seems those three are suffering from serious depression
>it's not until he starts rambling about it that they notice my arrival
>it seems the American girl doesn't like the term "Gaijin"

i don't get what's wrong with foreigners, they're nice once you get to know them, unless of course, if they're from a third-world country, that is

>luckily I know their language

...

>the professor invites me to go drinking
>it seems the other teachers want to go too

uhm... no thanks, that kind of thing isn't for me...

>although the professor knows things...
>I'd better keep an eye on him

and I don't know any Jason... that name gives me a bad feeling
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11013 es
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>>11012
>Verity tilted her head slightly, observing Kumiko with a wide, playful smile that didn't quite hide a certain load of acidic irony. She adjusted the strap of her denim outfit and let out a small, suppressed chuckle, taking a step forward to address the newcomer directly.

Verity: It’s actually pretty hilarious when you think about it, sweetie. I mean, you of all people should totally get why folks around here harbor such a massive grudge against foreigners in Japan, right? You were literally there back when "they" dropped the nuke on Hiroshima, weren’t you? It’s wild how the exact same guys we idolize as freaking heroes back home are viewed as the absolute ultimate villains in this exact same story.

>The blonde American let out a couple of soft laughs as she slowly shook her head, as if contemplating an inside joke about the hypocrisy of universal history. Neither of the other two teachers intervened to reprimand her this time; they simply let her words hang in the dense evening air for a moment.

>To the young professor's earlier suggestion of accompanying her to her vehicle, Kumiko politely declined Ishii's offer. The black-haired professor showed no sign of annoyance, frustrated flirtation, or pique. His face remained impeccably serious, with that stoic, distant calm that characterized him. He merely shrugged slightly, accepting the response without the slightest insistence.

Ishii: I understand. It's fine, no problem, Ms. Prime. Although... believe me when I tell you that sooner or later you'll end up resorting to drink, tobacco, or worse. Just give Kamome High School a week. A few days here and you'll feel the absolute need to consume something quite strong just to have the mental strength to keep teaching the next day. Still, I recommend you don't delay too long and go straight home. The school becomes a very shady place when night falls, and I'm sure you won't want to get into serious trouble when you haven't even had your first official day of work.

>Ishii paused briefly, tilted his head slightly in farewell, and turned to start walking towards the faculty parking lot. Verity, seeing her smoking companion walk away, widened her eyes with a gesture of exaggerated indignation and exclaimed loudly as she followed him with hurried steps.

Verity: Wait a minute! What do you mean we're leaving?! Aren't we going for drinks?! You promised me we'd go for drinks, Ishii!

Ishii: No, Ms. Verity. Not anymore. Ms. Prime rejected my invitation and, honestly, I've lost the desire for everything. Now I just want to get to my apartment, lock myself in, and go to sleep.

Verity: You're a first-class grump! You are ruining my whole evening! You can't leave me like this with a dry throat!

>The two teachers continued to walk away down the main path. The blonde teacher walked beside him, throwing a childish tantrum, gesturing comically with her arms while Ishii ignored her with Olympian serenity, keeping his hands in his pants pockets until their figures faded around the corner of the administration building.
>The last one to remain in the area was Hiiragi Kotono. The woman with red-rimmed glasses stood for a few more seconds, staring intently at Kumiko with a stern, analytical expression. For a moment, the silence between them was absolute. However, Hiiragi's severe expression softened by barely a millimeter; she let out a long, heavy sigh and, to the surprise of anyone who knew her, took the trouble to sketch a small, discreet smile of empathy.

Hiiragi: No one in this institution will ever speak of your past again, Miss Prime. I know perfectly well what it means to have to hide a history you'd rather forget... so rest assured. For all of us at Kamome, the name Jason no longer exists.

>Hiiragi executed a formal and neat bow, adjusted her glasses with the tip of her index finger, and turned elegantly to follow the same path as the other two teachers, leaving Kumiko completely alone in the middle of the plaza.

>The sun finally sank completely below the horizon, and the few orange shadows faded to give way to a deep, dusky night blue. Without the presence of the teachers or the distant murmur of classrooms, the atmosphere of Kamome Preparatory School changed drastically. The enormous concrete structures felt alien, almost threatening, and the evening wind whistled softly as it slipped between the trees surrounding the founder's statue. Being completely alone on such a colossal campus produced an uncomfortable and strange sensation, a mixture of desolation and constant alertness.

>It was precisely at that moment of absolute silence that a noise broke the calm.

>From a distance, in the direction of the New Building Section 1, the dull, hurried echo of multiple footsteps began to be heard. It wasn't the leisurely pace of a late student; it was the thunderous sound of many legs running hastily on the pavement, a coordinated and violent stampede as if a large group of people were chasing something.

>The echo reverberated against the glass walls of the new complex, sending an unmistakably tense and uneasy vibe towards the plaza. Inside Kumiko's mind, all common sense alarms began to flash bright red, instinctively warning her that investigating that area in the dark was probably the worst idea of the night.

>However, the reality of the situation left the options on the table with complete clarity... She could heed Ishii's warnings, ignore the strange noises, and walk directly to the main exit to go home and rest... She could remember Kinoko Ichinose's strident instructions and head towards the old classrooms located just behind the gym, an area quite close to where she was now, to see if the famous role-playing club was really active... Or, if curiosity or professional duty weighed more than prudence, she could risk sneaking towards Section 1 to discover what the hell was causing such a nocturnal commotion.

>The distant footsteps continued to echo softly in the gloom. The decision was entirely in her hands.
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11014 es
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>>11011
>>11010
>>11008
>>11007
>The president firmly adjusts the bridge of her thick bottle-glasses on her nose, resting both elbows on the wooden table to observe the lively confusion of her group with a piercing gaze. Kinoko tilts her head slightly, letting the classroom lamp’s light reflect off her lenses, hiding her eyes behind a white glare as her lips curve into a smile full of mystery and erudition.

Kinoko Ichinose: Listen well, wanderer of rotten flesh... A Living Grave is not a mere amorphous mass of mud and bone fragments thrown together randomly. This creature is composed of the painful amalgamation of the mortal remains of warriors, mothers, and men who perished in dark ages, protecting their loved ones with their last drop of blood. Therefore, the atavistic memory of their withered flesh instinctively drives them to act as living shields for their companions on the battlefield. As long as the value of your aim die exceeds 20, its imposing body of ancestral tombstones, dry roots, and pressed skeletons will mechanically interpose itself against any offensive aimed at protecting the Bone Snakes.

>Turning her gaze towards the player embodying the Penitent Pilgrim, the Game Master accompanies her words with slow hand movements, gesturing in the air as if summoning shadows to continue embroidering the tragic and chaotic sequence of combat in the mass grave. Her nails trace invisible lines on the parchment map.

Kinoko: The Penitent unleashes a brutal mace strike with all the strength left in his worn muscles, but the frenzy of the moment and the slippery floor tragically betray his judgment. The dry impact echoes in the gloom as it violently crashes against inert tombstones and common graves that harbor neither life nor curse, destroying ancient stone in a vain effort that leaves his arms completely numb from the vibration of the impact. However, amidst the bitter failure, the memory of the relic found in the open coffin resonates in his worn mind. You feel the latent, tempestuous power of the "Whistling Death"... This legendary blade possesses the unique ability to allow you to roll 3 damage dice on a single attack with only 1 aim roll, although such a supernatural feat can only be invoked twice during an entire encounter. Unfortunately, the strong impulse of your failure leaves you unbalanced, exposed, and vulnerable to the hungry jaws of the snakes.

>She takes the monster’s dice between her fingers, shakes them in her closed fist, producing a metallic clatter, and skillfully rolls them across the map.
Kinoko: One of the Bone Snakes fails spectacularly to sink its calcium fangs into the Penitent's robe, snapping at the air in vain with a dry sound, but the second manages to slither with destructive and silent agility directly towards Cajaman... The bone snake lunges at Cajaman's leg. Its jaws of clean, polished calcium close with relentless force around the limb. Although it does not manage to inject any venom into his bloodstream, the sharp teeth pierce the skin and fabric, causing a slight tear that makes a trickle of fresh, warm blood well up onto the ashen ground of the cemetery.

>Faced with this attack, Hisao speaks up in the room. With a noticeably nervous voice, he narrates his character's unusual reaction.

Hisao: ''Cajaman, instead of wielding a bladed weapon or recoiling in terror at the mass of earth, throws his arms wide open and throws himself entirely onto the Living Grave, attempting to give the living tomb a warm and comforting hug to convey happiness, soothe its ancestral sorrows, and make it smile.

>Yowai, upon hearing such a sweet, out-of-place, and absurd action in the middle of such a repressive dark fantasy game, stares at him with a grimace of absolute, incredulous "really?". But the chaos at the table doesn't stop there: Gore Predator, controlling the abominable Ratman, announces in the most serious and monotonous voice in the world_

Gore Predator: Ratman sucks his own dick in the middle of the battlefield...

>Yowai explodes out of character, turning to look at Gore Predator with clear exhaustion,

Yowai: What the hell is wrong with you?! Hey, if we manage to kill these damn crappy skeletons, you can have their skulls to turn into cumjars.

>Gore Predator's eyes light up in a Machiavellian and sinister way upon hearing his companion's proposal. Changing his mind instantly,

Gore Predator: Ratman interrupts his act of self-pleasure to slam his entire rotten and slimy body against the wall of the Living Grave.

>Yowai lets out a long stomp and sighs heavily, returning to his character's interpretation.

Yowai: The Dwarf Knight lunges forward, unleashing a barrage of furious punches with his spiked iron gauntlets directly against the mass of earth and bones to get it off Cajaman.

>President Kinoko blinks slowly, observing the chaos of the mass grave with a mixture of contained amusement and theatrical professionalism.

<Cajaman
108/115 HP

1d50 = 1

1d20 = 10

<Dwarf Knight
110/110 HP

1d50 = 25

1d20 = 18

<Ratman
105/105 HP

1d50 = 20

1d20 = 17

>Without missing a beat, she lightly turns the game sheets resting behind her Game Master screen and shifts the main narration to the upper level of the tower, where Derf, or Waste of Life, is located. Kinoko adjusts her posture, leaning slightly over the table as she slides her fingers across the printed map.
Kinoko: After leaving behind a trail of absolute chaos alongside the Seeker Mother and the Recycle Knight, Waste of Life —Derf— stumbles through the tower's shadows until he reaches the top of the worn structure, where the Stone Scholar converses with the tragic and inert figure of the Lone Knight. Derf manages to hear the last intense echoes of that somber interaction.

>The narrator changes her tone of voice again, lowering her register to a raspy, deep murmur to once again portray the tower's tired and melancholic champion, who responds to Samantha.

Kinoko: "Reaching the top of this damned tower... sometimes it's absolutely useless. Look at me. I'm living proof that becoming a hero is an empty and miserable fallacy. I have no name left, no legacy... just a reserved spot among these mythical champions whom death, in the end, took away every single one of their achievements."

>The narrator clarifies to the group that the Lone Knight makes no move to offer himself as a guide for the group nor indicates with his hands where the true exit of the graveyard is. The warrior feels he has already said too much to strangers.

Kinoko: He maintains a sepulchral silence, running his worn iron gauntlets over the cold marble of the statue as he lets out a long sigh of resignation. Just as the tragic figure seems to be pondering the Stone Scholar's words and is about to open his mouth again to say something more... Derf decides to burst abruptly onto the scene.... Suddenly, a guttural, foul howl completely shatters the melancholy of the room. Derf, the Waste of Life, lunges in a wild leap from the shadows, attempting to land on the warrior's back to massacre him without warning.

>Kinoko makes a quick and drastic movement with her hand over the map on the table, hitting one of the tokens:

Kinoko: But this veteran of a thousand battles is no easy prey to ambush. With superhuman agility for his colossal build, the Lone Knight dodges Derf's attack to the side with a fluid movement, letting the attacker crash headlong into the stone slabs. Slowly, the imposing figure begins to stand up. His gloved hand closes around the hilt of his heavy, rust-covered mace, lifting his monumental body with a creak of metal.

>The president stands up for a second and points with her index finger at the illustration of the warrior on the table so everyone can contemplate his imposing and intimidating appearance.
Kinoko: Standing at full height, the Lone Knight proves drastically taller, wider, and more robust than the Horned Knight himself. The plates of his dented armor rumble with each heavy step, and beneath the dark slit of his steel helm, two orbits of blue light begin to burn with a mystical, cold, and fearsome glow... The Lone Knight mutters aloud: "So it was all a trick... A vile trap so I would let my guard down and be cowardly slain... They must be servants and envoys of the false god Ghylak... Hail Gurvek! Living god and dead god! Great god...!" As he utters the sacred name of his fallen deity, the blue glow of his eyes bursts with almost blinding intensity, seeming to illuminate the dimness of the table. Wielding his giant mace with both hands, the warrior begins a bloody offensive: he launches a devastating sweep with the heavy mace directly at the Horned Knight's torso, while with his free hand he attempts to grab Derf firmly by the neck to slam his rotten body against one of the marble statues... The Stone Scholar desperately tries to interpose herself to appease the tragic misunderstanding and stop the bloodshed, but the initial aggression was so sudden and violent that she completely fails to intervene.

>Katsumi turns to look at Rena, her face pale as paper and filled with evident nervousness. The professor's action has completely changed her plans, and it was so abrupt that it even interrupted her OOC conversation. They needed to stop talking to each other to focus on the next fight, so she leans close to Rena's ear, asking in a panicked whisper:

Katsumi: "W-What the hell do we do?! He's gonna wreck both of us in one turn!"

>Overcome by the nerves of the situation and the pressure of the moment, Katsumi exclaims:

Katsumi: Thorgar defends himself from the brutal onslaught by striking with his own warhammer!

>Rena stares intently at President Kinoko, hoping for a small opportunity to resort to dialogue, calm things down, or try to recruit the fearsome champion. However, Kinoko does not respond with words to Rena's concern. The Game Master simply shrugs with a subtle, mocking smile (something like 🤷‍♂️), silently conveying that she is not in the slightest bit responsible for the chaotic turn of events. She then stretches her arm over the GM screen and points directly at Master Jack, placing all the blame for the catastrophe about to befall the group on him.

Kinoko: I'm so sorry, girls, but the golden rule in this manual is crystal clear: once combat phase is activated in Vermis, there's no turning back, no diplomacy, and no dialogue option. And friend Derf just fully activated a Secret Boss fight... That reminds me of something...

>Changes the song to one more fitting for battle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10vjsZNPPLM
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11015 es
>>11014
<Thorgar
110/110 HP

1d50 = 29

1d20 = 6

VS

(((The Lone Knight)))
200/200 HP
-Item: Ruthless warrior helmet, with this he can reroll if he fails one of his attacks.

-Ability: Severed finger, with this he can make two attacks, each to two different enemies.

1d50 = 15

1d20 = 20

1d50 = 18

1d20 = 1

---

Kinoko: THE TWO BONY SNAKES DECIDE TO ATTACK THE PENITENT SOLELY FOR CONSIDERING HIM DANGEROUS! WHILE THE LIVING GRAVE SUFFERS VERY LIGHT DAMAGE FROM THE DWARF KNIGHT! HOWEVER! THE HUG OF CAJAMAN MAKES THE GRAVE FEEL HAPPY AND EAGER TO KILL THEM SO IT CONTINUES TO FUNCTION AS A LIVING SHIELD!

<LIVING GRAVE
99/100 HP
-Ability: Can absorb the damage it receives, it absorbs a quarter of the damage it receives and can turn it into a buff for its aiming dice when attacking.

1d50 = 20

1d20 = 20

<BONE SNAKE
50/50 HP
-Ability: If it lands 3 attacks of 20, it poisons you with a constant damage of +10.

1d50 = 28

1d20 = 10

<BONE SNAKE
50/50 HP
-Ability: If it lands 3 attacks of 20, it poisons you with a constant damage of +10.

1d50 = 43

1d20 = 1
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11016 es
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>A pink sheet with a border of little flowers next to a small poster printed with fresh ink.

"I really wanted to talk to you guys about a film that holds a super special place in my mental archive, one directed by a pretty controversial guy but who undeniably pulled off a unique work of art within independent cinema of the nineties... Today's movie is..."'

Buffalo '66* by Vincent Gallo

"To give you some context for the story without rambling too much: the plot follows Billy Brown, a high-strung, aggressive, clumsy, and extremely maladjusted guy who just got out of jail after serving a five-year sentence for a stupid bet that wasn't even his. Since Billy lied to his parents the whole time, telling them he was happily married and working for the government, he finds himself cornered by the pressure to visit them immediately upon release from prison. In a pathetic fit of desperation, he walks into a dance academy, kidnaps a girl named Layla (brilliantly played by Christina Ricci), and forces her to pose as his wife in front of his family during a dinner. What starts as an absurd and tense kidnapping gradually transforms throughout the day into a bizarre, tender, and quite sad emotional journey."

"If we dive deep into the cinematic and narrative analysis, Buffalo '66 is an absolute triumph of low-budget independent cinema. Aesthetically, it's beautiful, but in a raw way. Gallo decided to film it on 35mm reversal film, which gives it a grainy texture, with washed-out and cold colors, perfectly capturing that bleak, gray, and depressing atmosphere of Buffalo, New York. The camera doesn't try to embellish anything; on the contrary, it uses static framing, sustained shots, and claustrophobic compositions to make you feel the mental suffocation Billy lives in. Furthermore, the use of music — with tracks by Yes, King Crimson, and compositions by Gallo himself — gives it a hypnotic rhythm that oscillates between chaotic jazz and pure melancholy."

"One of the most ingenious visual devices the film has is the way it portrays memory and recollections. Instead of using typical conventional flashbacks with smooth transitions, Gallo inserts small frames on screen, like floating boxes or windows within the main shot, where we see Billy's sudden memories of his childhood or past traumas. It's a brilliant narrative detail because it accurately simulates how traumatic memory works: it doesn't completely interrupt reality, but rather intrudes into your head like a painful spark as you try to go on with your life."
"Getting into the central themes, the film is a brutal x-ray of loneliness and the devastating damage that negligent parents can inflict on a child. The dinner scene at Billy's parents' house is heartbreaking despite its dark comedy tone. We see a mother absolutely obsessed with an American football team (to the point of blaming her own son for her favorite team's loss the year he was born) and a self-centered, repressive, and frustrated father. Neither of them sees Billy; they don't hear him, they don't care about his existence or what he feels. It is at that moment that you understand why Billy is an impulsive monster: he is the direct result of growing up without a single ounce of affection, in a home where being seen or loved was an impossibility."

"And this is where the film becomes ridiculously prophetic. Buffalo '66 addresses the psychology of incels and socially maladjusted men long before it was an internet phenomenon or a daily topic of conversation. Billy is the perfect embodiment of that broken masculinity: a man full of resentment towards the world, sexually frustrated, deeply insecure, unable to process frustration, and who reacts with aggression towards women to mask his terrifying fear of rejection and abandonment. He is a pathetic guy who blames everyone for his misery because he doesn't have the emotional tools to admit how much it hurts to be alone."

"That's why the evolution of the relationship between Billy and Layla is the beating heart of the film. Layla doesn't act as a trophy or a typical cliché savior. She sees through Billy's armor of shouts and threats; she perceives the scared and hurt child within him. As the day progresses, the dynamic changes subtly but profoundly. Layla not only plays along but offers him something Billy has never experienced in his life: genuine validation and recognition."

"There's a beautiful breaking point in the story when you realize how powerful it is to have someone look at you, value you, and make you feel like you matter. When a person who has been ignored and mistreated their whole life finally receives unconditional affection, their entire defensive universe collapses. Billy's destructive need for revenge begins to lose meaning the moment he understands that he doesn't need to die or kill to be someone, because now there is a person for whom his existence has value."

"Personally, I find Buffalo '66 an absolute gem because it doesn't try to be liked by anyone or justify the deplorable behavior of its protagonist, but it does have the courage to show human vulnerability in its rawest and most disheveled state. It reminds us that behind much of the bitterness and violence we see in the world, there are often just people drowning in deep loneliness who never learned what it feels like to be loved."

"And curiously, you can watch it for free on Mytube!" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMGSMyiLRt0
Sayuri
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.11017 es
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>>11014
-The president began to narrate the actions of the various battles taking place in the game, Rena listened attentively, she hadn't seen the others' character sheets well, so she hoped the characters were good-

>Hisao: ''Cajaman, instead of wielding a bladed weapon or retreating terrified before the mass of earth, spreads his arms wide and throws himself entirely onto the Living Grave, trying to give the living tomb a warm and comforting hug to convey happiness, calm its ancestral sorrows and make it smile.
......
-Oh no, the pretty boy was applying the Steven Universe philosophy, although the pretty boy looked more like Flapjack... he'd look good dressed as a sailor-

>Gore Predator: Ratman sucks his own dick in the middle of the battlefield...
Like Marilyn Manson! -said Rena, pointing at him, she knew the nickname suited him-

>Yowai: What the hell is wrong with your head?! Hey, if we manage to kill these damn crappy skeletons, you can keep their skulls to turn them into cumjars.
-The pretty girl attacked Marilyn Manson with words so that he would react and take the role seriously, but the idea of using the skulls as cumjars made Rena think-
....if they use the skulls as cumjars, I guess the character's objective would be to go for the skull of the dead giant and make a huge cumjar pool -she said more to herself, but audibly enough for everyone-

>Kinoko: "Reaching the top of this damned tower... sometimes serves absolutely no purpose. Look at me. I am living proof that becoming a hero is an empty and miserable fallacy. I have no name left, no legacy... only a reserved spot among these mythical champions whom death, in the end, took away all and every one of their achievements."

Rena: Samanta gives a slight but short speech about what it means to be a hero, that past glories don't matter, not even the name, since that is just a symbol, and more than that, a hero is someone who acts out of sheer will, the will of the hero, blessed are those whose names persevere through the ages and whose deeds are passed down from generation to generation, but also, those who did good and whose actions were never known or spoken of, no matter how small or grand, they are also heroes

ah, I wanted to summarize it to let her speak, I think I went on too long, the point is, that the scholar, despite not receiving help, at least tries to give the knight a little will before leaving.


>Kinoko: He maintains a sepulchral silence, running his worn iron gauntlets over the cold marble of the statue as he lets out a long sigh of resignation. Just as the tragic figure seems to be contemplating the Stone Scholar's words and is about to open her mouth again to say something more... Derf decides to abruptly burst onto the scene.... Suddenly, a guttural and pestilent howl completely shatters the melancholy of the enclosure. Derf, the Life Waste, lunges in a wild leap from the shadows, attempting to land on the warrior's back to massacre him without warning.

>Kinoko: But this veteran of a thousand battles is not an easy prey to ambush. With superhuman agility for his colossal build, the Lone Knight dodges Derf's attack to the side with a fluid movement, letting the attacker crash headlong into the stone slabs. Slowly, the imposing figure begins to rise. His gloved hand closes around the handle of his heavy, rust-covered mace, lifting his monumental body with a creak of metal.

-Rena looks at the fat man, frowning-
You screwed up.
>Kinoko: Standing to his full height, the Lone Knight proves to be drastically taller, wider, and more robust than the Horned Knight himself. The plates of his dented armor rumble with each heavy step, and beneath the dark slit of his steel helm, two orbits of blue light begin to burn with a mystical, cold, and fearsome glow... The Lone Knight mutters aloud: "So it was all a trick... A vile trap so I would let my guard down and be killed cowardly... They must be servants and envoys of the false god Ghylak... Hail Gurvek! Living god and dead god! Great god...!" As he utters the sacred name of his fallen deity, the blue glow of his eyes bursts with almost blinding intensity that seems to illuminate the gloom of the table. Wielding his giant mace with both hands, the warrior begins a bloody offensive: he launches a devastating sweep with the heavy mace directly at the Horned Knight's torso, while with his free hand he tries to grab Derf tightly by the neck to smash his rotten body against one of the marble statues... The Stone Scholar desperately tries to intervene to appease the tragic misunderstanding and stop the bloodshed, but the initial aggression was so sudden and violent that she completely fails to interfere.

-Rena, still looking at the fat guy, gives him the middle finger-
You really fucked up

>Katsumi: W-What the hell do we do?! He's going to destroy us both in one turn!

-Rena was facepalming, then put her hands on her face to look at the ceiling, thinking about how it all went to shit, but then Katsumi decided to act without letting her respond-

>Katsumi: Thorgar, defends against the brutal onslaught by striking with his own warhammer!

>Kinoko: I am so, so sorry, girls, but the golden rule in this manual is completely clear: once the combat phase is activated in Vermis, there's no turning back, no diplomacy, and no option for dialogue. And our friend Derf has just fully activated the fight against a Secret Boss... That reminds me of something...
-Rena lets out a long sigh of annoyance, she had to calm down, follow the exercises they taught her so she wouldn't throw a tantrum, remember that this was just a game and that this could surely be a fun anecdote she would remember in the future and that she and Katsumi could tell their grandchildren-

.....
BAM
-Rena slams the table, taking out her frustration with that blow, she didn't hurt herself and she broke the table, but it helped her calm down-

Secret boss huh, so the rules say we can't run from the battle

>>11015
-Rena looks at Katsumi and gives her a slight smile to calm her down, although this smile gets bigger, almost as if she were forcing it-

Alright, we have no choice but to fight together and emerge victorious or die in battle

IN GAME
-The music the president put on activated Rena's autistic and violent side, there's no other way, if the situation requires it, violence is the path we must take, even if it's just role-playing, a fight is a fight-

Rena: Realizing that the situation has escalated, young Samanta has no choice but to try to help, she knows well that her combat strength is nil, but she compensates for it with intelligence, first she must immobilize her adversary as much as possible, so she tries to conjugate Bone Petrify, who knows, maybe she can even get a puppet, if he didn't follow them willingly, the lone knight could become an ally by force, that is, of course, if he doesn't end up in pieces or they kill him first

Samanta: Things got out of control great Thorgar, now is when you show your strength, years of experience and combat valor to impress a young lady

Rena: Samanta raises her staff pointing at the lone warrior, conjuring the bone petrification curse
Samanta: You will lose mobility BECAUSE YOUR BONES WILL BECOME ROCK!!!
100/100HP
1d50 = 6
1d20 = 2

OFF GAME
-Rena strikes a pose, stretching her arm as if casting a spell, but she took the opportunity to roll the dice, then looks at Katsumi-

If I die first, kill sensei jack for me
Rena chan Hiddenite-b507f2 No.11018 es
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>>11016
I saw the movie, I felt a couple of emotions watching it.
Billy reminded me a lot of Joaquin Phoenix's Joker, I think calling Billy an incel is an understatement, the guy is obviously broken, shattered, and empty inside, while he shows those traits, he presents many more problems, in a way he reminded me of myself, when he imagines killing himself, a tear ran down my cheek, that in the end he decided not to kill himself and not commit suicide was something beautiful and positive, but I see a single problem, the motive.

Billy suffers from many problems and traumas and urgently needs to see a psychologist, and one of those problems is obviously depression, that his magical cure is meeting a girl seems weak to me, especially if she is docile and likes him just like that, of course, the actor is handsome, but we needed to see more about Layla's psychology, maybe it can only be summarized as she likes bad guys.

but seriously, that love is the solution to years of bad thoughts seems silly to me, years ago I saw a similar movie, a boy who wasn't even depressed and called suicide prevention, ending up hospitalized with people who really had problems while he was just an empty teenager throwing a tantrum, I don't remember the name of that movie, but in that help center he meets a girl who tried to kill herself, and in the end they both fall in love and have their happy ending.

That they impose on me that the magical solution is that a partner falls from the sky seems very illogical to me and prevents me from taking this movie entirely seriously, the ending even feels like a hallucination of Billy, as if Layla had never existed and it all happened in his mind.

Leaving that aside, the scene of the father singing and her dancing, that's cinema, maybe I don't know about shots, what camera it was filmed with or what kind of lenses were used, but the movie is good, I recommend it, I give it a 7/10

taking advantage of the movie space, I would really like a movie about the Cotton Rabbit and the Grumpy Tree.

It's a captivating story full of emotion, I couldn't express how much I liked it, not even in this life or a thousand lives, I even made a small fan art of it

Why am I mentioning the Cotton Rabbit story now?
I think it's the perfect contrast between the grumpy tree with Billy and the rabbit with Layla, of course, in terms of story, the Cotton Rabbit is far superior, it doesn't need much background, its simplicity is what makes it special and unique, I would really love to see a movie about the Cotton Rabbit, and I propose that you help the pretty boy make it a reality someday.

Because whether it's Buffalo 66 with its broken protagonist, or a simple hug from a bunny to a tree, the message is practically the same.
Sometimes we need someone to be there for us, someone who simply gives us a hug even if we don't want to be touched.
Loremaster Sodalite-1340a8 No.11019 es
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>On a secluded and dusty shelf lie the objects from last year's Roleplaying Club, among them is a picture frame with a photograph quite ruined by time. Said photo belongs to the previous members of the club, and beneath each one is a sticky note (post) with their respective name and comments apparently written by Kinoko Ichinose.

"Vance Vaughn"
I suspect that's not his real name! It literally sounds like a superhero's civilian name! And that American idiot is obsessed with it, especially with DC. I'll have to get it out of him or at least convince him to stop wearing a cape or change his damn heroic name. What do you mean "Mighty Macaroni"? It sounds stupid!

"Kenzo Bangura"
He's a hāfu, but you can tell his father's African cuisine is very spicy! It stinks! Or it smells very strong, and my Japanese nose can't stand that aroma of spices. I need to buy him a deodorant or at least a perfume... Although perfumes also bother me... How I hate being allergic to everything... What I do know is that the president says we shouldn't discriminate against anyone, but he really stinks!!!!!

"Kinoko Ichinose"
Me, myself, and I, your servant, the magnanimous and grandiloquent vice president of the mighty Roleplaying Club!!!! Wow, I look great dressed as a sexy paladin. Those colored contacts look amazing on me. I'm gorgeous and very attractive!!!! I don't know why I don't have a boyfriend... Men are blind idiots... Maybe I should try girls, they are cute... I like cute girls, models, those who wear a lot of makeup... Hehe.

"Tadao Kamiyama"
The president of the Roleplaying Club, my president, our president. Our guru in the world of roleplaying games. Our guide. Our GM. Our Loremaster. Our example. KAMIYAMA-SAMA. KAMIYAMA-SENSEI. Although he's not a master literally, he's a student. He looks like a 45-year-old bum, and he is. He lives in his camper in the school parking lot. He told me this is his thirty-eighth time repeating third year of high school. I don't know why the hell a middle-aged man is still in high school and hasn't been kicked out yet, but whatever, I learned everything from that man.
"Tsutomu Mendo"
Another one who looks like an old geezer, but Mendo-dono is the same age as me. It's like the strange case of Benjamin Button, apparently! HA! That moron got kicked out of the manga and anime club for being an elitist jerk. He doesn't roleplay much, but he recommends good anime and manga. He even helped me get this cosplay and is encouraging me to go to conventions in cosplay... I feel like he likes me... Gross... I'm not that desperate to give him a chance... Or well, maybe I am... But have you seen him? I'll stick with his friendship and him gifting me figures and games.

"Woobin Bom"
Heh, his name is funny! But it's a real name! He's Korean, I looked it up... Even though his appearance is comical, he has big eyes, is short, and looks like a Care Bear or Gizmo, I feel like out of everyone, he's the most likely to commit a school massacre like Columbine, Sandy Hook, or Virginia Tech. The little guy can't stop watching series, documentaries, or Mytube videos about serial killers. And one time I saw his notebook, and it was full of drawings of his dead classmates... He smells like freshly baked bread, but I have to keep an eye on him. I don't want him to get our club banned because of him.

"Toshie Shiwase"
Surprisingly, I'm not the only girl in the club... She's also a guy... I know, she looks like a bratty kid with glasses, literally like the annoying kid from The Polar Express... But she's a girl and she's in her first year... God, I wish the club was full of girls I could manipulate to grope as I please... If I become the President of the Roleplaying Club, I'm going to recruit a lot of girls.... Heh... But yeah, besides being ugly, she also has a habit of touching everything she sees and spits when she talks... Still, I really like her. I like everyone a lot, despite everything. I love them very much, they're my second family, even though I don't like that concept... WE ARE THE ROLEPLAYING CLUB OF THE YEAR 2326!!!!
Rolero Ammolite-66ac52 No.11020 es
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>>11014
>>11015




My mace fails drastically, striking with great force everything in its path—except my target. The rock splits against iron, and my twisted bones reverberate from the impact traveling up the shaft into my hands, causing quite a painful jolt.

"...."

Then the others attacked. Sugarwhiskers fails just like me, and the Dwarf who fell from the sky barely manages to scratch it, but Cajaman—he literally runs forward and embraces that mound of dirt and bones. No strike, no escape, no magic cast—just an embrace. It seems like a stupid strategy, but also... something sentimental... until I realize something in that act.

"_"

We had all seen an enemy: a mountain of mud, bones, and gravestones rising to shield the serpents now attacking me. But he didn't. And that makes me wonder... What if that impulse wasn't a curse born from hatred? What if it was exactly the opposite? What if that abomination was nothing more than the final act of love from thousands of people unable to accept that they were already dead?

No man gives his life for a stone. No mother lets herself be pierced by a spear for pride. No warrior turns his last breath into a shield for glory. They do it for someone. For a child. For a wife. For a brother. For a comrade. Love has that silent cruelty: when the time comes to die, it doesn't always allow you to. There are those who keep clinging even after the heart has stopped beating, because letting go means accepting they can no longer protect what they swore to guard.

Perhaps.... Maybe that was the true origin of the Living Grave. Not a pile of corpses, but a prison built from broken promises. Thousands of souls convinced that if they lowered their guard for even an instant, someone behind them would die. Condemned to hold a shield no longer needed, unable to understand that centuries had passed, that the wars had ended, that the children they wept for turned to dust long before them. They kept fighting because no one ever told them it was enough.
Then I understood Cajaman's gesture, he wasn't trying to immobilize the monster.... he was trying to embrace the dead.

Because a man doesn't embrace what he fears; he embraces who suffers. And perhaps, after centuries of feeling nothing but steel, fire, and blows, those forgotten remains needed something no blade could offer them. Not another battle. Not another victory. They needed someone to carry, for an instant, the weight of that impossible promise. That living arms would tell them what no one was there to tell them when they fell: "It's over. You did it. You held on until the end. Those you loved no longer need you to keep bleeding for them. You can rest."

Perhaps the love that had condemned them was the only one capable of freeing them. Because a hug doesn't always mean affection. Sometimes it means relief. Sometimes it's the oldest way a human has of telling another: "You are no longer alone." And for souls who had believed for an eternity that the whole world rested on their broken shoulders, perhaps that was enough. Perhaps, for the first time since their death, someone was offering them permission to let go of their shield.

So I too open my leprous arms, and next to Cajaman... I embrace the living tomb, in a gesture of offering it comfort, since it's passing, that it may rest.

<Power of love and friendship....
1d100 = 81

If that madness of a strategy worked.... it wouldn't be because this creature had forgotten its duty, but because it would finally understand that it had fulfilled it countless generations ago. That no promise demands eternal vigilance. That even the purest love must learn, someday, to open its hands and let go of what it tried to protect..... And if a simple hug could break a curse that neither iron nor magic had managed to shatter, then it wasn't an act of madness. It was, perhaps, the most merciful gesture a man could offer to those who had gone too long without remembering what it felt like to rest.
Kumiko##eULHjo UV Calcite-856f0b No.11021 es
>>11013
>it's a bit late
>these hours bring me...memories
>of something I'd rather not resort to for now
>so I'd better listen to Kinoko
>those noises from the new building sound like something dangerous
>maybe the old one is safer
>what will they do in that supposed role-playing club?
>its members could be my students
>so I must make sure they are safe
>that's why I'm heading to that supposed role-playing club
>I hope it's that and not a concubine house or something
>those places are...a disaster
>they say there was a festival related to that
>now there's a green cloud going around that sends you to an unspeakable place
>and there's a creature locked up there that, when released, will be the end
>why do I know about those things?

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