[center][color=#FF0000]"[/color][color=#FF4C00]T[/color][color=#FF9900]h[/color][color=#FFE500]e[/color] [color=#7FFF00]c[/color][color=#32FF00]a[/color][color=#00FF19]t[/color] [color=#00FFB2]w[/color][color=#00FEFF]e[/color][color=#00B2FF]n[/color][color=#0065FF]t[/color] [color=#3200FF]a[/color][color=#7F00FF]w[/color][color=#CC00FF]a[/color][color=#FF00E5]y[/color][color=#FF0098].[/color][color=#FF004C]"[/color] [url=https://youtu.be/g5BLyRWYPZY][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019b2f36-b799-72d6-8778-17c1f9c80bdf.webp[/img][/url] [color=#FF0000]I[/color][color=#FF1B00]t[/color][color=#FF3700]'[/color][color=#FF5300]s[/color] [color=#FF8B00]t[/color][color=#FFA600]o[/color][color=#FFC200]o[/color] [color=#FFFA00]b[/color][color=#E7FF00]u[/color][color=#CBFF00]s[/color][color=#B0FF00]y[/color] [color=#78FF00]w[/color][color=#5CFF00]r[/color][color=#40FF00]i[/color][color=#25FF00]t[/color][color=#09FF00]i[/color][color=#00FF12]n[/color][color=#00FF2E]g[/color] [color=#00FF66]a[/color] [color=#00FF9D]s[/color][color=#00FFB9]t[/color][color=#00FFD5]o[/color][color=#00FFF1]r[/color][color=#00F1FF]y[/color] [color=#00B9FF]t[/color][color=#009DFF]o[/color] [color=#0065FF]s[/color][color=#004AFF]t[/color][color=#002EFF]i[/color][color=#0012FF]c[/color][color=#0900FF]k[/color] [color=#4000FF]a[/color][color=#5C00FF]r[/color][color=#7800FF]o[/color][color=#9400FF]u[/color][color=#B000FF]n[/color][color=#CC00FF]d[/color][color=#E700FF],[/color] [color=#FF00DE]I[/color] [color=#FF00A6]g[/color][color=#FF008B]u[/color][color=#FF006F]e[/color][color=#FF0053]s[/color][color=#FF0037]s[/color][color=#FF001B].[/color][/center][hr] When Sylvia bowled into Tsubomi, she wondered through the pressure of the girl's feelings if coming to the school was a good idea. And since when was her magic so sensitive!? Especially when she wasn't trying to use it. Was this due to being locked away in her mind for so long, or was it because Zassou was transformed now? She didn't have a lot of time to think about it before some of the gaggle of schoolgirls around them helped her stand back up. She was dragged along by the wave of bodies into what was luckily the room for her next class. When she finally got seated, an unfamiliar face entered the room, framed by red. Was this woman always the teacher of this class? Tsubomi didn't remember her... But at least the class should be easy. ... Time had slipped away into lunchtime, and Tsubomi had only grown more annoyed leading up to it. Whoever this girl was, she clearly needed some sort of intervention. And while Tsubomi probably wasn't the best person to do it, she didn't know anyone who would be better suited for it. She didn't really know [i]anyone[/i], really. Except the girl who had threatened her at the arcade, but she would have to wait for now. And so Tsubomi found herself standing behind Sylvia, struggling to think through what she should say to her. After a few seconds, she decided to quit on that approach. [color=0072bc][i]Screw it, I'll just wing it.[/i][/color] Her hands full with her lunch, she lifted her right leg and gently kicked Sylvia in the back to get her attention. [color=0072bc]"Hey. The hell happened to you? Did your pet run away or something?"[/color] --- It seemed that the Mascot's projection had different eyes than Zassou. Or was that because it didn't have any? She wasn't sure. She was only sure that she didn't know binary. Nor did she know what it meant by saying it was her. Was there a third in Tsubomi's head? She hoped not. But then it was gone, and the Mascot was back in control. Seeing it happen to something else put things in a strange perspective for her. Was that what it was like at the arcade? Well, it didn't matter too much. She reached out to pet the feline thrice, then paused. What had it meant by Tsubomi being the interface? Surely it was Zassou who had that role, right? After a few moments she pulled herself up onto the desk to resume the hopefully enjoyable action and closed her eyes in thought. How strange, to 'think'. It meant that she 'was,' didn't it? That she had agency, a consciousness. 'Free will,' as it were. But what was 'will,' anyway? What was a 'self'? Where did it come from, why was it there? And could she really say she even had [i]that[/i] if she was some sort of non-human? Did the grass that grew from a grave have its own will, as well? Suddenly, as if hit in the head by a grand-slam baseball, she thought she understood Tsubomi a little better. Or maybe that wasn't right. Did she ever understand [i]anyone[/i]? Any[i]thing[/i]? And could she, if she didn't have a 'self'? Haruna had thought that she might be Tsubomi's magic. How ironic, if so, that her magic questioned her existence as if their roles were reversed. But that made Zassou the antagonist, didn't it? Though she supposed that was fitting, given the Club she was allowed to be a part of... If only she could read the script, everything would be fine. She'd know what mask to wear, what lines to repeat. The choreography would need to be improvised, but the audience wouldn't mind, and neither would she. She continued her repeating motions on the Mascot's back alongside her rumination. Soon it was dusk, and she'd be late to class, but she didn't move any further than she already was. She decided it was better to not change. There was plenty of reason to make things different, and little to avoid doing so, but even still it was what Zassou decided. The sun peeked through the window at last, shedding light on the cat and the weed, giving freely what it had to give. Zassou felt her neck slump as her face turned to it, just as her namesake would. As it did, her black hair covered her eyes to block it out. That was about right, she decided. Her own self blocking what she needed. Was that a trait only she bore, or was it Tsubomi's that she was simply borrowing? Which identity in, or rather formerly in, that rainbow covered head was the owner of Zassou's being? Oh. That must be what the Mascot's inner self meant. Identity, but what did that word mean? What was the meaning, the meaning of self, the meaning of life? What was the definition of it, while she was at it? She still didn't know anything, even after a day of thought. And that was at the pace of a normal person! Her hand twitched. As if it had heard her thoughts, the cat under her hand had bit down on her. It drew blood, but she didn't feel any pain. As she idly watched her insides pour out between its teeth, she wondered when the Mascot had turned pink. Was it from her blood? Perhaps from someone else's... Her eyes lazily drifted to her free hand. Was the cat going to become sedated, or was that unique to Tsubomi's body? She watched her hand close, only to reopen a moment later. Surely she could stop the feline, but why? If it drank all her blood, she'd be allowed to leave a part of her behind in its existence. A rust-colored bloodstain on the Club; it wasn't quite the way she'd imagined, but that was fine. Ah, the television was purring on the desk across from her. She'd always hated when teachers brought it in to teach for them, since the static kept her awake at her desk. But this sound was nice. At least, more so than the alternative. The ringing of the school's bell brought an orange film over Zassou's eyes. She could still feel a hand on the Mascot's back, but when had she laid down? It took her a moment to sit up again, her hair falling away from her sight as she did. Her head turned to look around the room. It seemed that she had fallen asleep at some point. Well, that was fine. She always did her best thinking away from the waking world anyway. Granted, not a lot of it, nor was it particularly impressive lately, but it was thinking nonetheless. She glanced at the clock and wondered if it was worth it to go to lunch. She wasn't particularly hungry, but the Mascot had curled up to take a nap as well, so she decided to let sleeping cats lie and make her way to the lunchroom.