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Something like deja vu (OPEN)
Opening his eyes, Shinji took a deep breath, sitting up slowly and doing his best to ignore the wave of nausea that overcame him as he moved his head. Glancing down at his clothing, he noted he was still in his uniform, and it was still grubby. Raising a hand to his neck, he discovered the metal collar he had been assured would be a permanent placement for 72 hours until he either died, or won the game, was not there. He certainly didn't appear to be dead (and if the men drugging him - if his memory was correct - certainly leant towards him being alive), but that in itself begged the question of why. The government wouldn't have just let someone live out of the kindness of their hearts, and he highly doubted there was any method of fixing the game, and even if there were... He wouldn't be someone they'd allow to survive. He was sure he was high up on their list of 'liabilities', especially after the stunts he'd tried to pull.
Brow creasing in thought, he stood up slowly, testing his limbs. Everything seemed to be working, he wasn't in any particular pain, the only thing that was bothering him was where he was, and why. It was mostly the why. Turning his attention to his surroundings, he studied the buildings with interest; they certainly weren't any he'd seen in Japan, and the one or two occurrences of writing he could see was in English. Whilst it wouldn't pose a problem (he knew English), he just wasn't convinced his accent was all that great. In a class, Yutaka had once commented that they must something akin to rubbish bins rolling down a hill.
Yutaka... Shinji presumed the other boy must be dead, along with all of the other students from his school bar one. He wondered idly who won, how they'd looked in front of the camera that announced them winning, whether they wore the same glazed and blank expression each of the previous winners had worn. There wasn't anything he could do about it now (unless this was some continuation of the game).
Taking several cautionary steps forward, Shinji decided the first thing to do would be to find somewhere to claim as shelter - at least for the time being - and then work out what precisely was going on. Clearly, he couldn't trust anyone (but that had been a given before he'd woken here), and he needed to find out what his circumstances were, and how likely he was going to be killed by anyone he might encounter. The latter was the more pressing matter at hand.
Brow creasing in thought, he stood up slowly, testing his limbs. Everything seemed to be working, he wasn't in any particular pain, the only thing that was bothering him was where he was, and why. It was mostly the why. Turning his attention to his surroundings, he studied the buildings with interest; they certainly weren't any he'd seen in Japan, and the one or two occurrences of writing he could see was in English. Whilst it wouldn't pose a problem (he knew English), he just wasn't convinced his accent was all that great. In a class, Yutaka had once commented that they must something akin to rubbish bins rolling down a hill.
Yutaka... Shinji presumed the other boy must be dead, along with all of the other students from his school bar one. He wondered idly who won, how they'd looked in front of the camera that announced them winning, whether they wore the same glazed and blank expression each of the previous winners had worn. There wasn't anything he could do about it now (unless this was some continuation of the game).
Taking several cautionary steps forward, Shinji decided the first thing to do would be to find somewhere to claim as shelter - at least for the time being - and then work out what precisely was going on. Clearly, he couldn't trust anyone (but that had been a given before he'd woken here), and he needed to find out what his circumstances were, and how likely he was going to be killed by anyone he might encounter. The latter was the more pressing matter at hand.
