#i wanna put him in a fucking hydraulic press and then throw him off a cliff. on fire.

[hotwings0203]

how abt giving him head while he is playing the game tho 😩

OOOOOOO I could totally see that, he’s playing against one of the league members from another room, snarling and growling under his raspy voice to get a headshot you idiot, fuck, do I have to spoon feed you the spree?

You’ve been on the bed for seemingly hours now, bored out of your mind and instructed to not move an inch off your rightful place. It’s mind-numbing to watch him coax his inept team members out of a level they’re stuck at while he solos the rest of the enemy players.

It’s when you see one more virtual brain being blasted against a building that you snap and decide to take matters in your own hands, if not to just put yourself out of this repetitive scene.

Ensuring that his headset is still on and his eyes are trained to the game, you wait until his fingers pick up pace on his controller when you start moving. You slither off the bed and slowly crawl towards his cluttered desk, keeping an eye on his mannerisms.

You reach his chair and meekly try to get his attention. “Tomura-“

“What?” He snaps, already annoyed at being interrupted. “Fucking hell, build up you moron, up!” His headset crackles as the person on the other line fired back with their own commentary.

“Can I, uh…”

“Can you what? Just spit it out already, I’m doing something.”

“Can I…touch you? Y’know, maybe take some stress off your game?” You blink up innocently at him when he sputters and turns red, giving you an incredulous look as you place a palm on his inner thigh and run your fingers up and down his sweats.

“Oooo, shit, fucckkkk,” he hisses as you tease him, mouth slightly agape and drooling as you move your own lips to kiss at the growing bulge in his pants. You begin mouthing over his clothed balls, and he leans back and down into his seat to give you better access.

“Stop teasing me already and suck it, since you wanna whore yourself out to me so bad.” He growls and grabs the back of your neck, shoving your face in the crevice of his pelvis and mushing your face all around it. He bucks into your parred mouth when you cry out for it, and grants you a second of mercy before darting his eyes to the ongoing game again.

Shigaraki grunts and thrusts lightly up before taking his controller and continuing the level. You don’t need his instruction to act, you merely grasp the hem on his pants and slowly pull down, relishing in how his dick springs out and slaps your face like it’s on hydraulics.

For the first time, you’re glad he isn’t wearing underwear under his sweats.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you let your nails lightly stroke up and down his shaft, taking great precision to cup his balls and swirl your thumb at the head, just how he likes it.

And you can’t lie, it’s extremely satisfying to see him try to respond to his teammates who scream at him to move, what are you on drugs? Go past the checkpoint!

He doesn’t respond though. He tried to, at least, but the second you pressed your thumb slightly down on his weeping slit and dragged your tongue up the middle of his sack, the words on the tip of his tongue succumbed to high whimpers and needy moans.

He throws his head back as your mouth trails along his shaft and eventually envelopes his tip. You think he looks beautiful like this, eyes squeezed shut in bliss and hair falling backwards as his mouth puckers in curses, his hands abandoning the controller in favor of grasping the sides of your head and face-fucking you.

He starts getting closer as he hears the clicks and glucks of your throat enclosing around his veiny dick. Your tight cavern does it’s best to accommodate his length as he brutally shoves himself down your esophagus with no mercy.

“This is-what-you wanted, right slut?” He pants, pistoning his hips inside your mouth as he sees you begin to go red-faced and teary eyes. “Couldn’t even wait for 5 more minutes until I was done, you just had to get some-argh, dick, hah?”

Your vision starts to go blurry as your breathe comes in small moderations now from his abuse. You try to tap on his leg to indicate you can’t breathe, but he merely shakes your head around on his dick like a ragdoll and laughs.

“What, can’t take it anymore? But isn’t this what you interrupted me for? Don’t worry, cock hungry sluts like you don’t need air, you just need more dick.”

And as he begins his climax, his headset staticky with his teammate’s screams from the other side of the line, his game abandoned as his player dies and his own team loses, he thinks to himself that he should tell Dabi that he was right, using a bigger map got him what he wanted in the end.

[mybukz]

Work-in-progress: When Plan's Stolen by Fate by Deborah Wong

Image by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

When Plan’s Stolen by Fate (Novel excerpt from “One Maple Summer’) By Deborah Wong

It’s July 2010. I’m praying the germ-infused Boeing 777 will land in one piece at Vancouver International Airport, and my Nokia 1202 from back home will function. The Pacific Coast forces may have stolen a bit of my luck as I now have no signal—the battery was well-fed and ready to kick ass.

“If you need any assistance, please don’t hesitate to call me,” Sandy, the UBC accommodation officer says. Her smile shines sunnier than the Kellogg’s TV happy family commercial.

I thank her and she hugs me.

“Is there a public phone I can use around this area?”

“There’s one at the concierge but it’s under repair. You can try the one at the Student Centre, about ten minutes walking distance.”

“Alright, thanks for the info.”

“No worry. Take care.”

My heart sinks faster than the Titanic; my headache from the jet lag keeps me up like synchronised car hydraulics coupled with Eminem’s rap. To make matters worse, I’m unable to call my parents about my safe arrival—thanks to my dead phone. Sitting here alone, I want to throw myself off the bouncy comfortable bed, snooze off, and let the tantalising air joyride into a lullaby. No one would yell at me for falling asleep; I smell like an overripe durian.

The digital clock in black and white on the wall states 4:44pm.

With a foggy light brain, I try to balance and change into a fleece hooded sweater and denim shorts. I have no choice but to head to the Student Centre. I hope to stumble—miraculously—onto a phone booth. I roll my Holy Rosary in my pocket.

I step out of the dorm and lock the door like an infant experiencing the glaring evening sun at the foreign land. The cold breeze sweeps onto my face and penetrates my head and whole body. I solemnly declare my brain frozen without the help of immense scoops of Haagen Daaz.

I hear thumping footsteps. I brace for the worst. My hand grips the tree, and I prep myself to fly kick à la Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon.

As the footsteps get closer, I punch out my left fist and yell.

When I open my eyes, a man in glasses frowns. “Are you okay?”

I clear my throat and adjust my hooded jacket, embarrassed. “Of course, I…was practising my Kung-Fu.”

He smirks. “You picked the wrong place. What if I carried a knife and I stabbed you as self-defence? You’re lucky I’m not a pervert. You never know what a motherfucker will do. Next time don’t hide behind the tree.”

“Okay, thanks for your advice.” I choke as I feel my face heat up like a red lobster.

“Have a pleasant day and a great summer.”

“I know this sounds crazy but if you don’t mind, could you please lend me your phone? I need to send a text home.”

He turns and studies me.

“I know this sounds weird but I just got here and my phone isn’t working. I really, really need to send a text to my dad back in Kuala Lumpur, to let him know I’ve reached here. Why don’t I pay you a dollar?”

He thinks for a while. “Alright, I won’t charge a cent.” He takes out his Blackberry. “You want to type it yourself?”

“It’s better if you type it for me. It’s your phone anyway.”

“Okay.“ He types like a world champion, listening to me. “You may want to take a look before I send the text.”

I quickly read it. “Okay, you can send it now. Thank you.”

“That’ll be fifty cents service charge.”

“WHAT.”

“Hey, I was joking. I may charge if you’re texting your boyfriend. Anyway, welcome to Vancouver and UBC. I stay in Pacific Crescent.”

“Where is that?”

“Go straight from here, right behind the Asian Studies building, near the Nitobe Memorial Garden.”

“That place looks posh. I’m sure it cost you quite a bit.”

“I have friends coming over very often; hence staying in a dorm isn’t a smart choice. An apartment feels more like a home to me.” He glances at his gunmetal watch. “I need to rush to the convenient store. It’s a great pleasure knowing you.”

“Do they sell any sandwiches or pastries?”

“They only have selection of sandwiches, instant salad and packed sushi.”

“Great, maybe you can show me the way?”

“Sure, no problem…”

“I didn’t get your name.” I walk beside him.

“I’m Jun Nakamura.”

I have not been in this foreign land for twelve hours and I’ve been invited to this house party. Jun tells me Mansfield Heights is the most eventful student housing area in UBC, coming alive only in summer.

There’re blue poles along the cemented walkway and red lightings at each corner. If anyone looks suspicious, ready for misdemeanour or voyeurism, one presses the emergency intercom, a safety object for students, a deterrent. On the other hand, if I were in such situation, I’d run for my life and be sure to look out for this emergency button.

“There’s surveillance camera installed in each lamppost for supervision that links directly to the Vancouver Police Department,” Jun says. His hair is ruffled into pointy soft spikes. He is wearing peasant’s crinkled cut washed jeans and a white t-shirt that reveals his fine avid gym-goer chest.

“So, what kind of party your friend’s having?”

“Booze drinking, cigarettes smoking, chatting and whole loads of eating; take a look around you, it is Friday night but we have to clear the coast by midnight.“ He stops and studies me. “Have you been to any house party before?”

“I did but it was long time ago.”

“How long is long time?”

“I think about fourteen years ago.”

“Whoa, that’s like immeasurable yards away. Anyway we’re here.”

Jun ambles to this NHL nightclub bouncer lookalike, except he has a crimson face and dirty blondish hair. Their greeting is front and back palms slapping and then fists punching like the ghetto Harlem boys.

“Oh c’mon, we don’t welcome underage here.” He stares at me.

“I’m already twenty-eight.”

He laughs. “Sorry, my bad…But you don’t look like your age.”

“So, am I invited?” I raise my brows.

“Of course, you PYT, I’m Montgomery Peterson. Everyone calls me Monty.”

“I’m Maxine Cheong, nice to meet you, Monty.”

Out of nowhere, a girl hops into Jun’s arms, giving him a bear hug, and a quick peck on his cheek. She has porcelain skin and raven shoulder-length hair. “You’re late!”

“Kendra, I want to introduce you to Maxine from Malaysia.“ Jun lets go of her.

“Oh, how un-fucking-believable…” She covers her mouth and smacks his arm. “So, you decided to change your taste for the better, huh?”

“Well, I’m not Jun’s girlfriend,” I smile, curtly.

“Don’t be so serious and spoil the party, or else I’ll throw you out.”

I turn to Jun. Everyone seems to have gone quiet.

“I was just joking. I’m Kendra Choi.” Her tone becomes friendlier.

“Maxine Cheong.”

“You have the coolest name here in Vancouver so far lucky-lucky you.”

Jun returns to the crowd after answering a phone call. “It’s Makoto and he’s stranded at the guardhouse with Yosuke and Paul. The security guard refused to let them in, despite their party invitation pass.”

“Speaking of that guard, he kept calling me a Mongolian and asked whether my family slaughtered horses for a living,” Kendra says.

After Monty and Jun leave to rescue their friends, Kendra and I bump past party-goers before reaching the house living room. She speaks into my ear. “Sorry to disappoint you but it’s still too early to spot a drunkard.”

“I guess they’ll become Intoxicated Cinderella by midnight.”

All the seats are occupied. I have to sit on the carpeted floor, among vinyls of Ozzy Osborne, Green day, Dave Matthews Bands, Cypress Hills, Queen, David Bowie, Rage Against The Machine, just to name a few. Kendra has returned from the washroom.

“Monty once formed an indie rock band during his teens. The band was quite a success from Port Coquitlam to White Rock. But then a fight broke out a day before they were supposed to sign a million-dollar record deal. You wanna know why? The bassist caught the lead guitarist fucking his girlfriend in their trailer. Hell broke lose. All the instruments were damaged by the bassist who ran amok. Worse still, the boys have to pay off the loan and the damaged instruments to the music shop.”

“What instrument Monty played?” I refuse to accept an opened cap bottled drink from a random guy.

“Drums and percussion. He was also a turntablist,” she says with a shrug and a snort, “but one lesson that no other guys will ever learn: do not let your girlfriend join the band practise. Girls fall head over heels with men who play guitars or drums.”

I grab a can of Dr. Pepper from the refreshment bar, while Kendra fills up a plate with finger food. A guy by the banister eyes us before taking up with a girl. Both head upstairs after the guy winks at me.

We spot a three-seater sofa.

“These seats are meant for both of you, my exotic princesses,” says a Hispanic-looking man. He has been feeding another man with bacon stripes.

The Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged record is spinning in the vintage oak wood player. I’ve always been mesmerised by Kurt Cobain’s baritone voice.

“I don’t like his grinding dick voice.” Kendra walks to the player and lifts the needle with the cue lever. “Thanks to Janis Joplin, Joan Jett and Amy Lee, rock music is in my blood now.” She puts on a vinyl of The Runaways, that Cherry Bomb song filled with chattering noises and perfumed muskiness.

“I love X-Japan. Do you like them?”

“Me too!” We do a high-five. “But if you want me to wear a hanbok and play the gayageum in front of Korean men. No way José! Over my dead body! It looks damn submissive. I’ve been referred as a ‘leftover woman’ for not yet being married.”

“You’re not alone. I hear that very often. It happens to me as well. And what a cruel term is that? Nowadays in the Asian community, single and unmarried women are hiring men online to be their boyfriend to please their folks during festive seasons, or to attend their friend’s wedding.”

“Women have the earning power and are financially independent too. Some will have to succumb to the social pressure of not wanting to be called ‘leftover’, hence they get married and start a family, work their peachy-butts out, struggle to get promotion at work, earning more monies for the sake of their children. In the end of the day, it’s always easy to say. But to preserve such feminist though is difficult.”

“I’m in my thirties and not looking forward into getting married,” she says.

“Let’s make a toast to both of us, the most attractive leftovers.”

I raise my paper cup.

She pokes her nose. “Damn, how come I don’t even know you’ve been drinking orange juice? Let’s get you a beer.”

“I’m still recovering from jet lag. Sorry.”

“You should come over to my place one day and we’ll cook up a storm.” She stretches to grab two bottles of beer. “I invite Jun along too. He’s good at ramen, sushi, butter-poached seafood and miso soup.”

“Isn’t that…a big task for him?” I take a bottle but put it aside.

“Give me a break. That guy’s a chef.”

“Jun…is a chef?”

“That smoochy-bear, he is freakingly dedicated and talented. He has worked in Washington DC’s Marriott for couple of years, and then quit after he was promoted to an assistant chef. As to why he quit, well, Jun doesn’t talk about it.”

“…must be those shitty management politics.”

“I still think teaching is the best work so far. Less office politics.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“I teach English to adults and young adults in Tokyo.“ She wipes bread crumbs from her mouth. “And I know this is something uncommon. Even my grandparents are strongly opposed to anyone of us working there due to the Japan-Korea Disputes. So what’d you do for a living?”

“I’ve worked in an insurance company’s claims department for three years. It’s a huge department but most employees quit after the three-month probation. I handle mostly personal accident, employees’ medical bills reimbursement and at times on workers’ provident fund dispute.”

“Any weird cases you’ve dealt with?”

I lean my head on the sofa. “I was reading a decomposed body autopsy report in the food court and a waiter cringed when he saw those bloodied photos of torn phalanges on the claim file. He asked whether the man’s still alive. I said he should be lucky that his fingers didn’t fly into his colleagues’ mouth. His reaction was like this…” I imitate the painting from The Scream.

“Your work is very CSI-ish, so to speak. By the way, I’m curious as to how Jun and you get to know each other.”

“I bumped onto him when my cellphone isn’t working and he helped me to send a text message home.”

“I think you’ve missed the most crucial part.” Jun is walking toward us with a bottle.

Kendra sniffs Jun’s neck. “You smell like fresh from the crispy oven.” She puts her arm over his waist. “He is always so helpful, but inviting you to his friend’s party is his first time. Lot of girls are trying to get their hands on him too.”

Jun whispers to me. “She’s out.”

She clutches her beer bottle, a smile forming on her face. “But you serve a good impression on me, but my experiences taught me not to trust an acquainted human girl too much.”

Later that night, Kendra follows me like a puppy afraid to lose direction. Her eyes stay on Jun whenever we’re engaged in an ear-to-ear conversation because of the loud music at the DJ stands. She puts three Budweiser in front of me. “You have to bottoms up. I don’t care.”

I still have those butterflies in my stomach and don’t have much appetite. But towards the second bottle, Jun pulls Kendra to the kitchen area, and asks Makoto to bring her more food.

Approaching midnight, Makoto offers to drive me back to the dorm, even though it’s only ten minutes walking distance. I’m unable to find Monty to bid goodbye. Jun tells me he’s already passed out near the toilet bowl, and he carries grumpy Kendra into the back of Makoto’s car. I wind down the window, inhale the gentle ocean breeze as the car moves along Marina Drive, but the tranquillity ends with Kendra counting chicken and sheep in a slur.

*

Deborah Wong: "My works have been published on numerous online journals and paperback magazine, including Crack the Spine, Rat’s Ass Review, Eksentrika, Thought Catalog, Liquid Imagination, Strange Horizons. Some are forthcoming from Frozen Wavelets and Seagery Zine. I have performed at local reading groups and open mic poetry sessions. I am currently working on a fictionalised travel memoir and some speculative poetry and fiction. I have an ongoing artwork-poetry crossover project with an emerging Australian artist on Instagram. You can follow me on Twitter @PetiteDeborah ‘When Plan’s Stolen by Fate’ is the first chapter of my work-in-progress semi-autobiographical novel ‘One Maple Summer’. The novel is about my intensive creative writing workshop at the University of British Columbia in the summer of 2010. At 28 I traveled for the first time 12 thousand kilometers to the other side of the continent. My debit card and cellphone failed, and the one-month stay at a pen pal’s place turned out not as imagined. However, things navigated otherwise when I received accolades from my creative writing course instructors. Discovering the melting pot of diverse cultural background of acquaintances made traveling worth a lifetime.”

[murasaki-murasame]

Danganronpa V3 Liveblog Part 17 [Chapter 5 - Trial]

Aaaaahhhhhhhh.

Thoughts under the cut.

I don’t even know where to start with this one. There were like . . . a thousand things that happened that I could talk about first. Wow. This goddamn trial sure took me for a spin and left me completely dazed and overwhelmed and depressed by the end.

I probably should have seen Kaito being the culprit coming. I just assumed that it would be ‘too easy’, since it was the second most obvious answer after Kokichi. But I can definitely say that even if the ‘who’ wasn’t too inherently difficult, the ‘how’ sure as fuck was.

It’s slightly lame that a good amount of the mystery of this trial revolved around stuff that only happens during the trial itself, but it’s fine. The shit that went down in this trial was oh so worth it.

Funnily enough, the thing I thought was a spoiler about Kaito being a culprit probably wasn’t actually intended as a spoiler for it, but it still lead me to the right conclusion. I saw a spoiler-free review that talked about how some of the motives in this game are lame, and I vaguely remember them mentioning the idea of someone killing because they had a terminal illness, which immediately made me think of Kaito once that whole plot point started up, but since his motive for murder had nothing to do with his illness, I think that person was just throwing out a generic example of a cliche motive, but it just so happened to still point at someone who ended up being a culprit anyway. They probably should have chosen a different example, lol.

Anyway, this trial was just sorta . . . insane. Wow. I wasn’t even able to definitively guess that the person in the Exisal was Kaito because his entire demeanor, especially when he switched over to ‘being Kaito’, felt too uncharacteristic of him to be true. But it was pretty obvious that it wasn’t actually Kokichi. Though even then, I still wasn’t sure if that meant Kaito was actually the killer.

Especially with the mid-trial swerve of Maki seeming to be the culprit, and genuinely believing herself to be the culprit. I was skeptical about the idea of the killer being spelled out before the intermission phase happened, but her whole story seemed too good not to be true.

I really, really liked this whole trial’s set-up of having both a mystery victim and a mystery killer. That was a really interesting idea. Especially with the additional layer of it being intended as ‘a mystery that even Monokuma can’t solve’. It made things feel incredibly baffling. In a good way.

The most negative thing I can say about the mystery itself was probably that, in the end, it ended up being almost exactly the same sort of scenario as case five in DR2, with a character setting up an insane murder mystery with themselves as the victim, set up in a way to expose and destroy the mastermind. They definitely played out in different ways, but the similarity was a bit too hard to ignore.

As a whole, though, it was great. It at least felt more satisfying than chapter four, even though I get in hindsight that chapter four’s trial was ‘unsatisfying’ for very intentional reasons.

It even made me warm up to Kokichi a lot as a character, which I wasn’t expecting. Now that his motives and feelings are more or less clear, it’s easier for me to understand him and appreciate his choices. I still can’t help but see him as a version of Komaeda that has a more off-putting personality, though. He’s definitely a fun character, but his personality just irritates me a lot of the time.

The first half or so of the trial wasn’t super hard in terms of the logic and the minigames, but it definitely picked up in the latter half once things got more and more weird and complicated. That was good. Sometimes the exact logic behind certain things still bugs me, though. I think I mentioned it before, but the ‘pick one of your truth bullets from the full list’ parts can sometimes feel a bit non-intuitive. Like when you have to point out that the crossbow was used, but you have to specifically pick the crossbow itself, because picking the arrows makes the other person be like ‘what, are you saying that they just stabbed someone with the arrows?’. That felt a bit dumb. It should have been immediately obvious what I meant by that. But it’s a minor point.

On a similar topic, a lot of the mini-games still feel kinda unnecessary, but that’s always been an issue with this franchise. There’s not really much to say about it at this point. Though I should say that it threw me off so fucking hard when I got a hidden Monokuma inside one of the Psyche Taxi segments. I had no idea that was possible. And on THAT note, I’ve had no real luck at getting those. This one was literally the second one I’ve found in the entire game. I know I missed one because I only noticed it in the background right before I started a free time event with someone, though. Maybe it would have been there if I went back for it later, but I didn’t bother.

I’m also getting better at the Argument Armament sections, somehow. They’re still stressful as heck, but I’m slowly improving. [And on the note of this chapter’s one, I guess I was right in assuming that if Kaito was this chapter’s killer, someone else would try and defend him]

I feel almost silly for suspecting Keebo so heavily, but both Kokichi and Kaito felt a bit too easy at the time. Oh well. I have . . . things to say about Keebo, but I’ll leave that for later, I guess.

Back on the topic of the murder itself, the whole set-up of it really was kinda ingenious, and really could have been an unsolvable mystery if things had gone differently. Especially with the whole element of there being no real proof as to whether the victim died via Maki’s poison arrow, or the hydraulic press. In the end, it basically came down to personal feelings and belief, rather than cold hard evidence.

Which reminds me, I also really liked the whole theme of Shuichi’s intuition as a device vs his feelings of belief as an individual. That was neat. Especially when it got to the point where, even after using evidence and deduction to figure out that Kaito was the culprit, he decided to lie in an attempt to stand for what Kaito believed in, and was risking his life for. Which, sadly, ended up being the final push that got Kaito to give up.

I actually tried like three times to vote for Kokichi even after that scene, since I still wanted to support Kaito, but the game didn’t let me. Oh well.

Before I forget, I may as well get back to my whole [apparently ongoing] rant for a little while.

As I’ve said before, I still personally interpret Shuichi as having a crush on Kaito that he’s trying to deny. I also said it before, but I’ve been aware from the start that this probably isn’t ‘canon’, especially after this whole trial happened and it didn’t get mentioned, but it’s still something I believe in. Especially with how heavily Shuichi and Maki were getting paralleled in this trial. Either way, at this point it feels safe to say that whatever Shuichi feels for Kaito is equal to or stronger than whatever he felt for Kaede [and had much longer to develop], and the game’s obviously already framing her as his love interest, so yeah.

I guess it goes without saying, but with how this whole game is about the nature of truth and lies, and about criticizing the idea that exposing and living with the truth is always necessary and good, it feels rather fitting that I’m choosing to treat this as my personal truth, even if it might just be a lie.

And for the record I still find Maki’s crush on Kaito to be really adorable and also heart-wrenching in this trial. If anything that’s just part of the reason why I’m seeing Shuichi’s feelings as basically being the same sort of thing.

Rant time over [for now], lol.

I guess there’s not much more to say about the mystery itself, so I should start talking more about the aftermath of the trial.

To start with, I figured in advance that Kokichi probably wasn’t the mastermind, since it felt too ‘obvious’ and happened way too early. I think I also commented on how it was a bit odd how the Exisals and stuff were treating Monokuma, but I didn’t quite guess what the full situation with that one was. 

I’ll talk about the concept of the ‘true mastermind’ in a minute. Before that, I wanna say that it was really fitting and amusing that Kaito’s execution was a spin on Jin’s from DR1. I really should have seen that coming. It was a nice little throwback. I also really, really liked the detail of Kaito dying from his injuries rather than the execution itself. It may not have been a complete victory, but it was a moral victory.

Though on the flip-side we have the whole reveal that Kaito probably had the plague that killed off most of humanity, which in itself wouldn’t change anything, but it carries the really uncomfortable implication that maybe everyone in the cast had the same plague, and he just had his symptoms show up first. Which would just make this entire scenario even MORE depressing than it was before.

This whole chapter’s just making me more and more unsure what the deal is meant to be with Rantarou and the Monokubs. I still feel like they have to be related to the overall story somehow, but I’m getting less and less sure about what their purpose could be. I’m still assuming that the Monokubs have AIs that are based on the personalities of other people in the last killing game Rantarou was a part of. Maybe the other survivors of said killing game. Which makes me wonder if we’d ever get any idea who they were as actual people. 

With the reveal that Kokichi ISN’T the mastermind, and might not have had anything to do with setting up the killing game, now I can’t help but wonder if it was Rantarou who set things up. Obviously SOMEONE had to, and I assume it’s one of the main cast members. It’d also explain why he knew about the killing game in advance, and why he seemed intent on winning it. It certainly hints at him being kinda . . . malicious, but that was already clear enough. This would also explain what he meant about how this is a killing game that he wanted to have happen.

Presumably he’s genuinely dead, though, so that pokes some holes in the idea of him being the mastermind, assuming that ‘the mastermind’ is a currently living person. If we limit it just to the main cast, then Keebo seems like the most suspicious person, since he’s a robot who could be running some sort of sub-program to control Monokuma, in a way that might not even be conscious on his part. But, again, I’ll talk more about him in a moment.

First, I should talk about the plot point that I’ve been holding off on mentioning for this entire post, and that’s Junko. I’m laughing so hard at the implication that she’s the goddamn mastermind for the third game in a row. It’s such a brilliantly polarizing writing choice. Part of me had been genuinely hoping it would happen. I have a soft spot for Junko as a villain, if only because I love seeing people get so angry over her. The ways that she causes despair and frustration in the fandom just by existing kinda validates her status as the main villain of the series.

I’ve mentioned before that it feels like they’re setting up some sort of a twist about the events of this game being fictional, even in the context of the DR universe, and this is making me even more certain of that. Especially with the focus on the topic of ‘the people who this killing game are being shown to’. The main thing that always bugged me about the apocalypse idea was that broadcasting the killing game had always been the top priority, and so it felt weird to imagine a killing game happening in this sort of scenario. I kinda assumed it was to do with there being a new mastermind with new priorities, but the idea of Monokuma still abiding by his own rules is definitely too strange, even if we make that kind of assumption. So it makes sense that he’s broadcasting this to SOMEONE. The question is who.

And honestly my best guess is that this is setting up some abstract meta-twist about us, as the players, being the people who the game is broadcast to. I’d been idly considering that for a while, but seeing Junko show up, and seeing the references to how the characters are all ‘easily replaceable’ and that ‘the killing game can happen again and again’ makes me think that, in-universe, V3 is literally some kind of story that Junko’s writing. Maybe not in a literal sense of her writing a book or something, but maybe the game takes place in a DR2-esque simulation, and she can just restart it again and again to create an unending killing game of unending despair. It seems like the sort of thing she’d do. And obviously it’d work pretty well on a meta level as commentary about the franchise itself. Which to me got pretty definitively confirmed when Junko mentioned ‘supply and demand’. V3, and it’s killing game, only exists because we, the fans, financially supported this series enough, and wanted to see more killing games happen enough, that this game got made. It seems like the natural end point of how this series likes to comment on the almost voyeuristic nature of murder. This game only exists because there was an active demand for it. Because we like seeing people kill each other in video games. Because experiencing intense emotions through media is a cathartic experience that people want to go through again and again. I’m not trying to be like ‘violent video games are bad!’ or whatever, I just mean that if this game is going to end with the big bad villain literally being the people playing the game, then it’s certainly justified.

Though on the same level it also makes it feel like this is the furthest the series could ever go, and that any more games being made would just feel uncomfortable and weird. But even if this game ends in that sort of way, there’s still going to be demand for more games. We’ll still want to get another killing game, and another, and another, even if we complain about how discomfiting it is to have a game turn around and criticize us for our enjoyment of it.

If we assume that this is where it’s going, I wonder how chapter six will go, and how the game will end. Will it be like DR2, where we get to argue against a digital version of Junko? That’d be a bit . . . odd, and probably kinda depressing, since if this is all just a story being written/programmed/etc by Junko, then no matter what the characters can to do her, it probably won’t kill her. She’ll still be alive in the real world.

On that note, if we’re meant to assume that Junko is alive ‘in the real world’, it makes me wonder what point in the timeline we’re working with, since her physical body got pretty definitively destroyed at one point, unless the person we saw in that one CG near the end was her in a robot body made to look like her. Who even knows.

Also, this whole Junko thing makes me even MORE unsure how the hell Rantarou and the Monokubs fit into the story. Is their backstory all part of a fictional setting she made up for this game? I have no idea.

I really can’t help but wonder if Kodaka will try and continue the series after this. I guess it wouldn’t be impossible for him to do so, but I just . . . don’t know how it’d work, really.

I still find it incredibly fascinating how utterly depressing and miserable and filled with despair this entire game is, especially as we understand how it connects to the entire franchise, compared to the far more hopeful ending that DR3 gave us. Though it’d be a lot less depressing if the entire apocalypse scenario was also made up by Junko and didn’t actually happen. But to be honest I kinda love the sheer audacity of Kodaka writing such a hopeful direction for the story and it’s universe, only to completely tear it apart by literally putting it through a fiery apocalypse, so either option works for me.

Anyway, I wonder if we’ll get any more deaths, or if it’ll be like the last games where nobody in the main cast dies in chapter six, ignoring the mastermind. The game is REALLY hammering in the concept of ‘the killing game will end when two people are left’. So it just makes me wonder if that might really happen. Though since only two people died in this chapter, we’d need to get a scenario of two victims and one culprit in the next chapter, to create a scenario where we’re then left with two people. Or maybe three people will just die normally. It just depends on whether or not we get another trial, really. I’m not really sure what I expect to happen, but the most important thing is probably that, if this really is all fictional, to some degree or another, then the concept of someone surviving becomes a bit meaningless, so on some level it kinda doesn’t matter. But it’s still interesting to speculate about.

I really would not be surprised at this point if the next chapter involves Himiko and Tsumugi dying, and us getting one last trial between Shuichi, Maki, and Keebo, who all definitely feel like the most major and plot-important characters right now. That might be interesting.

But it also makes me wonder if we’d then get ANOTHER chapter after that, or if we just might not get a trial where we face off against Junko specifically. Who knows.

Either way, Himiko and Tsumugi definitely feel a little expendable right about now, and I’m incredibly suspicious of Keebo and his plans right now.

I wasn’t really expecting his inner voice to just . . . malfunction and stop working after he gets hit with a rock. That kinda came out of nowhere. And now we have this bizarre scenario of him powering up and flying around while apparently bombarding the school with missiles. I wonder if his plan is just to burn everything to the ground so that the killing game will forcibly come to an end. It’s kinda hard to imagine Keebo doing something so violent, though.

I did really like seeing the remaining survivors, aside from Keebo, start training together. That was really sweet. I really love the sense of friendship and companionship between them. Well, mostly between Shuichi and Maki, but you get what I mean.

I have no goddamn clue where the next chapter is going to go, at this point. The end of this chapter raised so many questions and cliffhangers that I feel like things can just go in any direction they want now.

But as a bottom line, I can only imagine this game having a depressing, or at least bittersweet, ending. Especially if everything is some sort of fictional story. But even if it’s not, the characters have no real future left. No matter how much hope they have, they’re stuck in the academy. So I just can’t see this ending happily.

Also, as a final note, I tend to be pretty bad at expressing the exact extent of my emotional reactions to stuff in this game since I’m having to talk about so much in these posts and I try and keep them at least relatively concise and orderly and whatnot, even if this isn’t meant to be any kind of a professional review or anything, but this whole trial and it’s conclusion was depressing as fuck. It tore me apart. I knew something like this was gonna happen, since I was already bracing for this ending with Kaito dying in some way or another, but actually seeing it happen really hurt. I’m not kidding when I talk about how much I love the entire Kaito-Shuichi-Maki trio. I honestly think that they’ve become some of my all-time favourite DR characters. I get why a lot of people might think they’re a bit boring and plain [other than maybe Maki], but I absolutely adore them. Out of all of the ‘main trios’, they’re far and away my favourites at the moment, although there’s a lot of recency bias going on there, since I still have a huge soft spot for the main characters of DR2. Mostly Hinata and Komaeda, though. The fact that I like Maki a LOT more than Nanami is probably what weigh things out in V3′s favour. I don’t really wanna pit any of the characters against each other.

Anyway yeah, this chapter put me through an entire rollercoaster of emotions.