digadigatunnel-blog

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Turning a corner, a pair of heavy footsteps seemed muffled by the carpetting, but was cleary audible as it approached. It paused for a moment, seeming to change direction straight towards Rei’s before moving again... Closer and closer, until they finally stopped  a short distance away.... And then.... Nothing.

... And a little more nothing. And just a LITTLE more nothing before..... WHAM. A gentle poke to the girl’s side, coming from a frowning, scarred digger girl with a confused and somewhat sympathetic expression. And another. And wow it’s an annoying poke. This was clearly a master of getting people’s attention.

“... Heyy?”

Defect | Open

She’d hovered, unsure, by Hozumi’s unmoving body for a few seconds after it had all ended, then promptly sprinted out of the room, dodging any attempts at interaction on the way. For about half an hour after the unfortunate finale of the talent show, Rei was nowhere to be found. (The female bathroom door, however, had remained locked for the duration of her absence. There was nothing suspicious about that at all.)

As much as she wanted to hide forever and ever until the ocean evaporated and Benjiro or Aiichiro could just punch the way out of the dome for everybody, it just… didn’t make sense. For one, the entire ocean probably wasn’t going to evaporate all at once until the sun exploded, and there was no food in her incredibly clever hiding place, and - she really needed to stop stalling and open the door and get this over with.

Whatever ‘this’ was going to turn out to be, she had little faith in her abilities to handle it well after the last time she had made a decision, which she had spent the last half hour alternating between trying not to think about it and thinking about every possible way she screwed up today in front of everyone. Maybe the break would give them time to cool off a little, or maybe they might be hunting her down with pitchforks or – or maybe just regular forks, she wasn’t sure they had pitchforks here, and she was never going to find out unless she unlocks this stupid door already.

With a final mental push, she ended up shoving the bathroom door open with waaaay more force than necessary. Oops.

She manages one step out of the bathroom, eyes on her feet and arms wrapped around herself, before she loses the will to walk any farther and freezes there as the door swings shut behind her. She keeps her line of sight glued to her feet, not able to bring herself to do anything more than silently cringe at the sound of approaching footsteps.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

The marching goes on for a while, the girl unaware of her inventory’s suffering. When the noises start to force their way out of his throat however, she finally seems to catch on. Looking around with her entire body (swinging Hozumi left and right as she does so), she frowns. The area was rather familiar, at least. The bedrooms were nearby. 

“Um.... I was gonna take you to your room.” she explains. “... But I don’t know which one that is.” ... A random hallway would have to do! She begins to move again, searching along the walls for a nameplate that would ring a bell.

The Bitter Taste of Truth [rxn/open]

It was hard to watch Hozumi suffering like he did. It was even harder to not be able to do anything about it. But undoubtedly, the hardest part of all was on the one doing the suffering… With this in mind, Dimara Siftat had stayed near the stage for the entirety of MAL1C3′s torture, and finally approached when the boy’s agony seemed to be dying down.

Stooping over and peering down, Dimara’s dark hair would make a sharp contrast to the lights around them, and after a few more moments she leans down particularly close to the boy. Before it’s apparent what she’s doing, rough hands were already digging their way underneath of Hozumi and grasping onto him.

“Nnngah!” a light grunt escapes the digger’s lips with the exhertion to lift the prosecutor from his slumber. She didn’t seem to register his consciousness, draping him right over her shoulder and stumbling for a moment from the sudden imbalance…. The smell coming off of the girl’s clothes from this range wasn’t exactly fragrant.

… And then, the pitter-patter of feet, and the flooring moving its way past Hozumi’s gaze. … She was taking him somewhere… But where?

[digadigatunnel-blog]

It was hard to watch Hozumi suffering like he did. It was even harder to not be able to do anything about it. But undoubtedly, the hardest part of all was on the one doing the suffering... With this in mind, Dimara Siftat had stayed near the stage for the entirety of MAL1C3′s torture, and finally approached when the boy’s agony seemed to be dying down.

Stooping over and peering down, Dimara’s dark hair would make a sharp contrast to the lights around them, and after a few more moments she leans down particularly close to the boy. Before it’s apparent what she’s doing, rough hands were already digging their way underneath of Hozumi and grasping onto him.

“Nnngah!” a light grunt escapes the digger’s lips with the exhertion to lift the prosecutor from his slumber. She didn’t seem to register his consciousness, draping him right over her shoulder and stumbling for a moment from the sudden imbalance.... The smell coming off of the girl’s clothes from this range wasn’t exactly fragrant.

... And then, the pitter-patter of feet, and the flooring moving its way past Hozumi’s gaze. ... She was taking him somewhere... But where?

The Bitter Taste of Truth [rxn/open]

White noise. Followed by static. Finally, voices begin to emerge out of the heavy fog that used to be his thoughts, and his sense of hearing. There’s sobbing, frantic mumbled words. People are talking, but he can’t quite make out what they’re saying quite yet. 

Pain. There had been more pain than he’d ever thought possible. Pain… and betrayal. He squeezes his eyes shut more, against both the thought and the lights. That’s… something to think on later. Not right now. He hurts enough now as it is. Putting it out of his mind for now, he begins taking stock of the situation at an agonizingly slow rate. His mind is still incredibly foggy, but he’s definitely conscious now. He… doesn’t hurt. After what he’d just been through, that seems wrong, but sure enough, the only thing that hurts is his head, from where he’d collapsed to the stage. He starts to move, but he can barely lift himself and… …oh. Moving slowly, Hozumi uses his left arm to gently shift himself to his other side, so that he’s facing the crowd instead of laying with his back to them.

He isn’t sure how long he’s been out, lying on the stage… presumably in front of the others… the others… He doesn’t open his eyes yet, instead squeezing them more tightly shut once again. He… really doesn’t want to know how the others are going to react to this. To him. To–nevermind… Think of something else. Someone else. Someone, perhaps, like the owner of the footsteps approaching him now. 

At last, Hozumi opens his eyes, staring blankly ahead of him at the pair of shoes in front of him. Who…? It isn’t like he had went around memorized who’s shoes were whose. What are those. Etc. It takes him a moment to do so, but he lolls his head back, squinting up against the lights to see who’d approached him. 

He regards them blandly. What should he say? What is there to say? Instead, he settles for a soft noise in his throat, a step up from a whimper. Perhaps he should be more concerned about what they’re going to say to him.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

"... Do you think he was poisoned?" Dimara asked after a short pause. ... Respiratory failure. That meant he stopped breathing, didn't it? He was all sweaty and gross, too. It was probably for sure that he was in fact poisoned... That was something she didn't want to think especially hard about.

"We should split up for a while, then. There's three of us, and three places to look, right?" she asks, bringing up her fingers to count them out. "He can go look in Michi's room..." she notes of Aiichiro, "You can see if there's anything weird in the bar..." she asks of Yoko, "And I can check the medicine place!" she finishes with a soft smile, no doubt proud of her line of thought.

"Then, in a little while, we can all meet back here and talk about what we saw, is that a good idea?"

Hit the Deck | Investigation

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Standing a short distance away, Dimara watched over the beginnings of an investigation with a frown that was slightly distant. No matter how she tried to look at things, they came up the same... Michi was... Almost certainly dead.

It wasn't as though it was the first time she'd seen death. That much might have been apparent in that she didn't cry out or cower from the sight. But it was certainly the first time she'd seen murder... A corpse that was created intentionally, life ended by a fellow human being. ... Of course, a death was terrible, no matter what had caused it, and just because she wasn't unfamiliar with death didn't mean her stomach wouldn't be churning and tightening up if Michi had passed away from an accident of some sort. But in this case, in particular, things were made much worse. One death was bad enough, but the scenario (according to MAL-1C3) guaranteed at LEAST one more...

Her common sense dictated that the students had to do as MAL-1C3 bid and find the culprit... But Dimara did little more than stare at the corpse with a deep frown, face slightly pale... She hardly even noticed Yoko and Aiichiro nearby as they got a jump on the game, but Yoko's smile reached her soon enough. She tried to return it, but... It was difficult to look past what was still right in front of them.

"... What should we do, now...?"

Hit the Deck | Investigation

He knew it. He fucking knew it. His heart was seized up in his ribs, unmoving, as he stared down at the corpse that used to be Michi. He swallowed hard, throat dry. It had happened, really happened.

Aiichiro had seen his fair share of shit, to be sure, but not murder. It was low, lower that low, and he felt his vision going red. He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms. He need to stay calm. This- this was not the time.

He left the room, paced all the way down the hall. A loud thud was heard, the walls rattled, and then a few more of the same. And then he returned, knuckles oozing blood, and was calmed again. Time to- get to work, he supposed. He wasn’t scared of a corpse. Death, maybe, but a corpse was just a thing, not a person anymore.

“Fuck this shit,” he muttered, and made his way toward the body. He peered at the junk on the table in front of Michi and then gave his body a patdown, looking for anything on the body.

A bottle of anxiety meds in one pocket. He turned back to the table and saw that he’d laid out a few specific tarot cards. But Aiichiro knew jack shit about tarot. And- he frowned. Was Michi sweaty? Clammy? Maybe he’d been stressed, or maybe poisoned. Hmm.

He turned to someone lurking behind him. “You just gonna gawk at me or you gonna help out?”

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Mountains and Molehills [reaction]

Not even an hour had passed since the fateful announcement and 'gift' of photographs on the AI's part. In the bathroom of a certain pair of roommates a running shower was turned to its hottest setting, filling the room slowly with a comforting steam and probably wasting a plentiful amount of water and energy in the process. Of course, Dimara wasn't sitting under the spray. It was scalding hot! Maybe even deadly! Aside from that, she certainly wasn't in the mood to bathe (not that she regularly was).

Instead, the digger was simply sitting on the floor (which was becoming slowly soaked with condensation) and hugging her knees and her ragged jeans to her chest while staring at a particularly uninteresting spot on the wall nearby. It was her hope that the running water would deter any interruption (or prying, in MAL-1C3's case) to her thoughts and uncharacteristic moping. She wasn't stupid, as much as her behavior might fit the bill at times. She was well aware of the implication of the pictures. How they'd been taken with the subject completely unaware. How close the people depicted were to her. How easily their lives could be taken if the students didn't bow to the demands of mutual killing.

It was terrifying, obviously. She was terrified. Of what could happen to her family. Of what could happen to the students around her... Of what could happen to herself. It was overwhelming, and no matter what line of thought she pursued it all ended with a frustrating helplessness that there was no doubt the rest of the students shared... It was all that she could seem to think about as she stared at the stack of photos in her hand, her adoptive father staring back at her from the top... But, after a long and quiet while, she began to look through each of the pictures, one by one.

After a few minutes of this... she began to smile. Just a little. It was far from an ideal reunion, but for most of these faces, it was the first time she'd seen them in a very long time... As long as she could remember. She hadn't forgotten any of them, but after that terrible split some time ago... It was surprisingly comforting to realize that they were all alive and well, at least for the moment. Their lives were being threatened, but for now they were fine and well.... Even happy, it seemed!

Holding the photographs to her chest for a moment, Dimara took a deep breath in and a deep breath out before standing up. Things were alright for now. That's what mattered. The threat was there, but surely it would be made more explicit before MAL-1C3 decided to take it so far. There was time. She needed to stay calm... And the rest needed to stay calm, too. Deciding this, the girl dusted herself off before leaving the bathroom and her own room soon after. She had to do her part to help, for everyone's sake! There was something she could do, that all of them could do! ... She just had to find it, and help stop things from boiling over in the meantime...

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Sama?! Dimara probably would've giggled at being called such a thing if they hadn't been in such a decidedly unfunny set of circumstances, especially at the moment. Her smile quickly fades, replaced with as much empathy as the girl could muster... Which was still a smile, just of a more melancholy sort. "... Yeah. I got a whole bunch of them..." she nods her head, stepping more closely.

Her smile brightens after a moment, though, and she lifts her head. "Hey... What kind of pictures did you get?" she asks a little more pleasantly. "Will you tell me about them? If you do, I'll show you something nice you can do with them!"

Are You Hurting The One You Love?  // Open Reaction

It had been some time after she’d understood the threats being made herself, but Dimara still found herself travelling about when she heard a sudden, disconcerting cry. Rather than try to ignore the shouts of the panicked hype-man, Dimara seemed almost drawn to the area (despite the poor judgement inherent in approaching a frenzied, shouting child in a sea life of mutual-killing). She poked her head in from the hallway almost timidly, but the deep frown she wore spoke otherwise as she quietly entered the room.

“… I don’t think she’s gonna answer us right now.” she makes her presence known with a statement she hoped came across as concerned as she felt at the moment. “Are you okay, uh…” her mind paused for an instant, memory having faltered under the situation until, “Matabei!” she finished the question with far too much enthusiasm and a smile, an involuntary result of her being pleased with her functioning memory.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Dirt Nap [Yotsuya]

Things had been tiring for Dimara lateley, to say the least. She'd been kidnapped away from Hope's Peak Academy (along with her peers). She'd been trapped beneath the single largest body of water on the planet, under threat of drowning and other bodily harm at a regular basis by the laws of physics and the machinations of a malicious AI respectively. She'd even witnessed the results of a rather bloody attack!

All of this was without even considering the mess of more subtle strains on her... Overconsumption of salt from a certain kitchen incident. The mystery of just where (and how) these photographs of her family came into being. The fact that she could stay up as late as she wanted and nobody could stop her (including herself...)

Like the sort of great big pile of loosely gathered rock-crumbs she was so used to tossing all around, everything just sort of fell together into a heap. Right on top of her head, metaphorically (discounting a plushie avalance) speaking. ... So it was that, despite threats, demands of murder, and even a nasty attack in the very near past... Dimara Siftat was snoring loudly on a couch in the lounge.

She hadn't even meant to sleep, truth be told, and it was evident from the way she was just sort of sprawled onto the piece of furniture, a leg hanging freely off the side and both arms off the armrest with her face turned skyward.... Ceilng-ward. The pose tugged on her clothing a bit, making a sliver of her stomach show as she breathed, marked with a handful of small scars... Her expression was peaceful, if nothing else, mouth agape as she snored. It wouldn't quite do for a funeral, but in this situation, that was probably her next destination.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

It had been some time after she'd understood the threats being made herself, but Dimara still found herself travelling about when she heard a sudden, disconcerting cry. Rather than try to ignore the shouts of the panicked hype-man, Dimara seemed almost drawn to the area (despite the poor judgement inherent in approaching a frenzied, shouting child in a sea life of mutual-killing). She poked her head in from the hallway almost timidly, but the deep frown she wore spoke otherwise as she quietly entered the room.

"... I don't think she's gonna answer us right now." she makes her presence known with a statement she hoped came across as concerned as she felt at the moment. "Are you okay, uh..." her mind paused for an instant, memory having faltered under the situation until, "Matabei!" she finished the question with far too much enthusiasm and a smile, an involuntary result of her being pleased with her functioning memory.

Are You Hurting The One You Love?  // Open Reaction

Staring at the photo in his hand, fingers trembling without their usual more purposed fidget, Matabei Ohira was not having a good time. He’d been nervous to come out here at all, fearing that Malice’s announcement would be another body, dead for real this time. Instead, though, he was given this….. picture. 

A woman sat in a white, clean pressed bed, evident as his mother by her near identical face that was not looking at the camera. She had bright eyes and a tired smile on her face, but it was obvious by the color of her face and thinness of her hair that she had only gotten worse since the last time Matabei was home. The room around her was familiar and made him homesick on its own, the flowers and crafts that she was known for and their front yard visible from the open window. 

By the time he’d wandered back into the hallway to hope and find Malice laughing at her newest prank, he’d already worked himself into a tearful, morose sort of frenzy.

“Hey- HeeeeeEeeyyy, Mali-chan- hey what… what’s with this??? When did you take this??  H–?? Hello!”

Unfortunately, anyone else in the hallway would have a hard time ignoring his fruitless shouts at Malice’s blackened screen.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Despite her best efforts, Diamra was thoroughly disappointed. The secrets of the classmate with a television head would have to wait for another day, or so it seemed. Just to be sure, she leaned her face in as close as possible the next time the slot was opened... Just to be disappointed once again. Or physically rebuffed. Who knows?

"But it's all about tasting good..." she insists as they made their way to the gift shop, wearing a frown that made it clear she pitied the child who hadn't tasted the joy of a stack of pancakes so sticky you could barely chew them. As they entered, she seemed to come to a horrifying revelation, "Does that mean... You can't eat soup, or ice-cream either?!"

Her insistence on just how many sticky, messy foods were in fact some of the best continues some way into the search for some kind of entertainment device. She ultimately goes quiet, however, as the both of them come to the realization it's nowhere to be found. "... I don't know what that means." she notes, frowning and staring a shark dead in the eyes.

Pitfall [open]

Nodding sagely, Dimara seemed to accept this explanation without issue. It was no fun watching movies backwards! Not that she had tried, or anything, but it seemed to be the kind of thing you could just assume without any problems. She seems to find the whole food-slot thing amusing, in the meanwhile, giggling for a moment. “Do you have to eat everything like that?” she asks, tilting her head to try and look through the neck-slot as the latest piece of popcorn was inserted. “What if you got it stuck up with syrup or something?”

Her attention seems to be lost if the secrets aren’t discovered in short order, however, and she perks up again as she seems to take note of what was already said. “Okay! Let’s go take a look, then, I bet they do have one!” and with that she was off, leading the way to the gift shop as though she hadn’t just left the scene of a dangerous assault.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Walking  through the halls with an armful of cheaply-framed photographs in containers of all the wrong sizes, Dimara didn’t exactly have a proper view of her surroundings. It might’ve been pretty jarring, then, when she managed to spot the shadow of a ghost creeping around a corner at her JUST as she passed Michi’s room, letting out a short but loud yelp as she dropped her treasures to the floor.

Luckily, cheap plastic wasn’t as brittle as cheap glass and the photographs and their frames lived to hold memories another day. Even Dimara seemed ot be recovering after a few more moments, back to her usual cheerful self with a giggle and a bit of an embarassed look regarding what had just happened.

“Wow, I’m sorry... I really thought you were a ghost for a second!” she admits without a moment’s hesitation, reaching down to recover what she’d dropped. She stares at the topmost one for a moment, seeming to lose her train of thought before picking it up and adding, “... Have you been here this whole time? I don’t remember you...”

Reversed Hermit / Open\ Ch 1

Michi had become a bit of a recluse since he had arrived, Not that it really wasn’t his nature to close himself off every so often. Although now with the prospect of murder on the table he found himself a little more than willing to get to know some of his fellow classmates. If he could call them that. They weren’t really a class if they weren’t at school, were they?

He had put a pause on his soul-searching, finally emerging from his room. Despite having done literally nothing in his room (not even talked to his roommate all that much) he still looked pretty worse for wear. Perhaps the bags under his eyes really were just always there? The cartomancer found himself wandering the halls lazily, trying to find someone he could talk to.

He figured he’d be pretty out of the loop at this point regarding knowing everyone’s names but at least he had something to talk about. The weird photos everyone had gotten were probably just as weird as his although he guessed there were probably people more bothered than it by him. Sure he was kinda confused as to how those pictures had been taking but he really didn’t take it as a true threat.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Having had such a sudden and energetic headstart, Dimara had managed to find quite a bit of time before Kozue had arrived. It was enough, at any rate! By the time the other girl made it to the door, she already seemed to have found what she was looking for!

"These!" she declares, abruptly appearing from behind a shelf to pile a table with cheap plastic frames... Most of which were covered in tacky shell and sealife motifs... Which probably carried a clear message of their own. By the time she'd started to speak again, she'd already started to fit the topmost photograph into a frame that was an inch or so too big.

"It was really nice of Malice to give us these... Even if it was for really nasty reasons, huh?" she asks, tilting her head at the frame to examine her work. A distinctly american man stared back from a busy street, tall and well-built with the blonde hair and blue eyes you'd expect, but avoided eye contact. Of course he hadn't realized he was being photographed, but the circumstances seemed to make it appear that he was averting his gaze from the child smiling at his image.

"That's Johnny, see? ... He's kinda like my Dad, I think?"

a failure of imagination [dimara]

As predictable as predictability goes, it could’ve been predicted that Kozue’s prediction was spot-on. At least, it was in the case of one Dimara Siftat. Bounding out of her room, she didn’t seem to be hit terribly hard by the revelation of the motive… In fact, she was even wearing a smile as she made her way across the halls with a measure of cheerfulness. It might’ve been infectious were it not for the circumstances.

On top of her implausibly good mood, she seemed to move with a purpose that wasn’t borne of panic too. She’d been passing through the room so directly that she almost hadn’t noticed when Kozue had leaned forward and spoken… But she does manage to skid to a stop on her way the gift shop (apparently) and turn around to meet the girl’s gaze.

It was a request that surprised her, sure enough. A little too businesslike considering the situation, but it wasn’t taken poorly at all. To the contrary, it took her only moments of glancing down at the thick stack of photographs in her hand to rapidly agree to the trade of information and relations. “Sure!” she even goes so far as to nod her head a few times.

“But hang on, I’ve got to do something first…!” she insists, turning back the way she was headed and vanishing into the gift shop after a few more moments. Only specks of dirt blemishing the carpet underfoot remained of her presence.

[digadigatunnel-blog]

As predictable as predictability goes, it could’ve been predicted that Kozue’s prediction was spot-on. At least, it was in the case of one Dimara Siftat. Bounding out of her room, she didn’t seem to be hit terribly hard by the revelation of the motive... In fact, she was even wearing a smile as she made her way across the halls with a measure of cheerfulness. It might’ve been infectious were it not for the circumstances.

On top of her implausibly good mood, she seemed to move with a purpose that wasn’t borne of panic too. She’d been passing through the room so directly that she almost hadn’t noticed when Kozue had leaned forward and spoken... But she does manage to skid to a stop on her way the gift shop (apparently) and turn around to meet the girl’s gaze.

It was a request that surprised her, sure enough. A little too businesslike considering the situation, but it wasn’t taken poorly at all. To the contrary, it took her only moments of glancing down at the thick stack of photographs in her hand to rapidly agree to the trade of information and relations. “Sure!” she even goes so far as to nod her head a few times.

“But hang on, I’ve got to do something first...!” she insists, turning back the way she was headed and vanishing into the gift shop after a few more moments. Only specks of dirt blemishing the carpet underfoot remained of her presence.

a failure of imagination [rxn/open]

That was… it? She’d expected something bigger, honestly, some sort of grand finale to the buildup and anticipation that Malice had made. But no, it was pictures, and anyone who was driven by pictures to kill was a damn fool.

However much she scoffed, Kozue obediently followed the trickle of students rushing back to their rooms before sliding inside her own. There on the mantle, a candle from the attempted murder that the roomates had ended up keeping as a fucked up memento. There on the bed, the envelope. Grabbing it and sliding the top photograph half out of it’s sleeve just enough to identify the contents, Kozue’s lips quirked into a bitter smirk. Ah, so that’s how things were being played; really, she’d been hoping for bigger.

“Heh.”

She was out of the room and slamming the door even before her roommate had had the chance to stop in, heading to the main room. Kozue had the sneaking suspicion that when others reacted to their own envelopes filled with very important people in it, they’d all end up here – and she wanted to gague how this was hitting each person. Her own envelope had been laid down on one of the main tables which she stood next to, the top of it open and inviting viewing but the pictures still inside. So Malice could take photographs of her family and friends. So Malice thought that for someone here, that threat would be enough.

When someone did predictably show up, Kozue leaned on the table and rested her chin on one hand to shoot them a sideways glance with a frank smile. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Nodding sagely, Dimara seemed to accept this explanation without issue. It was no fun watching movies backwards! Not that she had tried, or anything, but it seemed to be the kind of thing you could just assume without any problems. She seems to find the whole food-slot thing amusing, in the meanwhile, giggling for a moment. "Do you have to eat everything like that?" she asks, tilting her head to try and look through the neck-slot as the latest piece of popcorn was inserted. "What if you got it stuck up with syrup or something?"

Her attention seems to be lost if the secrets aren't discovered in short order, however, and she perks up again as she seems to take note of what was already said. "Okay! Let's go take a look, then, I bet they do have one!" and with that she was off, leading the way to the gift shop as though she hadn't just left the scene of a dangerous assault.

Pitfall [open]

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Though Aiichiro's disapproval seems to bother the girl just a bit, the reasoning behind it doesn't quite get through to her. "It's okay, it didn't get blood on it or anything, see?" she insists, holding out the pouch to prove her point... Just good old-fashioned, perfectly good (if somewhat stale) popcorn!

When her motivations came up, she just smiled a little. "I was just looking around, but you looked really mad..." she noted, looking over to the pulverized punching bag once again. "... So I was kind of worried." she frowns. "Are you gonna be okay? ... Hey, what's your name?" she seems to add as an afterthought, "Mine's Dimara!"

Rip ‘em a New One // Dimara

[digadigatunnel-blog]

Despite the atmosphere the event seemed to have caused, Dimara was remaining cheery enough so long as nobody had died or been hurt more seriously. She seems to be caught off-guard with Kei's arrival, however, helpless to stop hir from rummaging through the popcorn pouch as sie pleased. Not that she would've stopped hir, of course! As soon as she gets a handle on the goings-on around her, she happily offers as much of the popcorn as they seemed to want... Which was apparently quite a bit.

Standing patiently with popcorn pouch at the ready, the girl's eyes lit up at the proposal she was given. "Yeah, I love movies!", she nods her head up and down. "If there was gonna be a movie night, we should definitely do it now.", she grabs a bite of popcorn for herself, not bothering to finish chewing before continuing. Ah, but there was a problem. She frowned to learn that their less-than-cheery new computer captor was the type to play such a terrible prank, but quickly bounced back with a simple solution. "What if we just play the movie on your TV, then?"

Pitfall [open]

[digadigatunnel-blog]

While the expression bearing down on her was intimidating, to put it lightly, Dimara didn’t seem especially worried. There were plenty of things to fear without having to worry about each other. She almost seemed comfortable around him. Whether it was his straightforwardness, that he was likewise scarred, or if she just did the same for every last person she met was anyone’s guess.

‘The diggin’ girl’... She seemed to enjoy the title, returning to a smile and nodding, “Yeah, that’s me! And you’re the... Uh... ... Actually, I don’t know...” she admits after a few moments of racking her brain, frowning and looking skyward for a moment though no answer would come. How could it, through countless inches of reinforced glass and steel, to say nothing of the ocean’s depths. Being reminded of the ocean above wasn’t exactly reassuring, however, and she quickly brought her focus back down to Aiichiro. Just in time to be grilled on the origin of her salty snack.

“... What, this?” she holds out the pouch of popcorn with quite a bit of nonchalance, “You want some?” she offers cheerily, having apparently seen no other reason to ask the question.

Rip ‘em a New One // Dimara