Introduction!

[utopiamods]

The tram quickly arrives at the academy station, and the students onboard are ushered off and directed to the front lobby of the school. They can't miss it; there are signs up pointing toward the main entrance, reading "New student orientation" in big, bright letters. If anyone should care to move off the path, try exploring somewhere else, a teacher will conveniently appear to shoo them back toward the lobby, assuring them that "all your questions will be answered inside".

The lobby is big and spacious, looking more like a university or perhaps a fancy international hotel than a high school. There's a woman sitting at a desk ready to check everyone in, but she's not important right now; what the students should pay attention to is the large flat-screen TV set into one of the walls. As soon as everyone has gathered inside, it clicks on and starts to play a prerecorded video. A cheerful woman appears on-screen; when she speaks, she's so chipper you might just feel your teeth starting to rot.

"Good afternoon to our new students here at Utopia Academy! Thank you for choosing to enroll with us for this, our first semester of the new year. Our battle system is the best in the world, set up for you, our students! I hope that you all had a fun journey here, and that you've all made some new friends! You're going to need them soon, so keep them close, okay?

"Now, I'm going to explain the rules for you. Make sure to listen carefully, and remember, you can find all of this and more in the Exaclan manual!"

A map of the academy appears on-screen. The woman stands green-screened in front of the map.

"Our academy is fully integrated with a virtual network that includes several layers of tactile, empathic holographics geared toward the battle game Exaclan. Exaclan is a game fought between groups of Players using their respective Weapons; if a Player wins a battle, he or she takes possession of the opposing Player's Weapon. This way, Players can own many, many Weapons. Collect them all!

"As for the Weapons, you might be wondering where those come from. Well, as it turns out, only a few of you are going to be Players. The rest of you are Weapons! Players, if you equip your custom-fitted Exaclan gloves, you will be able to unsheathe your weapon from the chest of any Weapon you own."

Meanwhile, behind the woman as she speaks, a stylized cartoon sequence plays out in which a man in knight's garb pulls a sword from the chest of a woman in an elaborate princess gown.

"Now, since you're all just starting out here, you don't own any Weapons yet. In order to take possession of a Weapon, you must ask permission, and then promise to own and protect it. This is very important! Be nice to your Weapons, and in return, they will bring you to victory!

"The items you draw out of your Weapons' chests aren't real; they are part of the holographic Exaclan system. Each person's Weapon will be different, and they aren't just guns or knives, either. Their form is partly determined by the Weapon's personality, but it's partly randomized. Maybe you'll get lucky. Maybe not. It eliminates natural advantages!

"Now, like I said, the Weapons aren't real, but the damage you do in battle is real. You will feel every blow you take from an opponent's Weapon, and physical damage done to your Weapon will damage the person you drew it from, too. So be careful, or you could cause serious damage!"

The woman holds up one finger, grinning ear-to-ear;

"If you win a battle, ownership of the Weapon you fought against transfers to you. You also earn one Token, and you earn an additional Token for every five battles you fight, whether or not you win. Tokens can be used to buy Upgrades, Link Charms, Memory Charms, and Legend Fragments, so do your best to earn as many Tokens as you can!

"Oh, right, about the Memory Charms... you're probably wondering why there are some things you can't remember. That's just a little precaution we took to make sure that you would participate in Exaclan. You've each been stripped of ten memories: Some of them are very important, but some of them aren't. You can purchase a Memory Charm for five Tokens, which means to regain all of your memories will cost fifty Tokens. Ah, there's a catch, though: You can't use the Memory Charms you buy. You have to give them to other people. So get along with your fellow students and make as many friends as you can, okay?

"Now, if you have any other questions, make sure to consult your Exaclan manuals. They will tell you more about the rules of Exaclan, what you can and cannot do with your Weapons, and so forth. Following this video, the list of Players for this Round will be displayed. Anyone not on that list is a Weapon for this Round. Sorry!"

The woman holds one hand up in front of her face apologetically, but continues smiling as ever.

"In conclusion, welcome to Utopia Academy. Let's all do our best and achieve utopia together!"

The video clicks off, replaced by a pale blue screen stating the following:

PLAYERS FOR ROUND -2:
Dave Strider
Gino Weinberg
Grenn Atair
Koharu Izaki
Molly Hayes

((OOC: Feel free to post reactions and general mingling in this post. From here on, you're free to make posts, fight battles, attend class, etc.! If you have any questions, get in touch with a mod.

Edit: A mod mistook how much Memory Charms cost. They're five tokens, not ten. Oops! So the post has been edited slightly. That is all!))

Comments

[bitofafiction]

"Or something. As it happens. Terribly sorry to disappoint, but I decided to leave the hat and pipe in the nineteenth century. Along with the cocaine. It's for the best, really."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Yeah? What about the little brown shoulder cape thing? Not really buying the whole Victorian Batman deal without it."

[bitofafiction]

"Victorian Batman," he echoes, laughing. "I like that one. I think I'll keep it. To be frank, it makes no particular difference to me whether you accept the metaphysical implications of my name so long as you call me by it. I am sure, if we continue this fascinating association, you will eventually notice that being Sherlock Holmes is something I am tolerably good at."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Yeah? Well I'm pretty fucking good at being Dave Strider. I don't know what it is, it's like this weird skill. Like I was born with it or something. I'm a lucky guy."

He sticks his hands in the pockets of his sharp but slightly dusty suit, and looks Sherlock up and down. Or he probably does, anyway. It's hard to tell behind the shades.

"So you got any idea what kind of magical soul pick axe or whatever you're keeping in there?"

[bitofafiction]

"A rapier. Pity, really. I don't know if I'll find anyone here who can take proper care of it."

Was that a challenge? That sounded like a challenge.

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Okay that sounds eerily like you want a piece of this, which would be creepy even if I wasn't like thirteen years old," Dave said, apparently unmoved, "like, yeah, okay, I'll take proper care of your rapier – but presuming you're not actually talking about my little boy hands around your dick I do actually know how to use a sword."

[bitofafiction]

He cracks up.



It takes him a while to form words again.





In the end: "Good Lord no. But I am glad to hear it."

[thatguywhohasablog]

It occurs to Dave that something's missing from his memory; he can't quite put his finger on what it is but there's something weirdly absent when he tries to think about of course I know how to use a sword, I've been doing it since I was a little kid. But of course they've all lost memories; his frown is only brief, he'll work it out.

"Yeah? I can pull the fucker out of your chest if you want proof or whatever, but only as long as we're both agreed that my barely pubescent digits stay away from your meat rod. I mean, I know Sherlock Holmes being a massive homo is like traditional and everything but I've got my limits."

[bitofafiction]

He raises his eyebrows.

"Entirely agreed, yes."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Cool," says Dave, as though something legitimate has just been agreed on. "So I guess I have to promise to own and protect you and shit. Which honestly is almost as creepy as wanting thirteen year old boys to take care of your 19th century detective pecker, but whatever. You cool with this?"

[bitofafiction]

"Yes," he decides, after a moment's thought.

On balance, agreeing to be owned by someone he just me is—however symbolic—probably a bad idea. But he has no doubt that it will be interesting.

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Okay, awesome. Let's do this." He nodded to Sherlock. "Let's make this take place."

[bitofafiction]

Sherlock glances down at the back of his hand, where an inch-wide mark has just appeared.

"I do believe it worked," he observes dispassionately.

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Oh hey," Dave says, peering over, "you got one of those hand tattoos same as lil' K, right? Weird."

[bitofafiction]

"A convenient notifier of success, particularly considering our unorthodox variant of the necessary affirmations."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Heh. Yeah, good to know I'm not gonna have to break out some longwinded rhyming anime speech every time I need to do this thing. I mean, I could probably pull that off with panache, but it'd get old pretty quick."

[bitofafiction]

He smiles slightly.

"No doubt it would."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"No doubt," says Dave. "So do I have to be all Sherlock Holmes I choose you if I wanna get a look at this thing?"

[bitofafiction]

"You have my permission, if that's what you mean."

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Sweet." Dave rummages for the Exaclan glove in his bag full of uniform. He looks at it curiously for a moment or two before he pulls it on.

"Okay. So how do we do this."

[bitofafiction]

"Like this, I believe," he says, reaching to take Dave's gloved hand in his.

WHAT'S TENSES

[thatguywhohasablog]

The resulting lightshow only gives him a moment's pause; a second later Dave is reaching up to take hold of the sword's hilt and pull.

[bitofafiction]

Sherlock closes his eyes but remains otherwise impassive as the thin, elegant blade slides free of him. It doesn't hurt, exactly.

Unsheathed, Hamaliel—a name he never intends to say out loud if he can help it—is a rapier, as promised, perfectly balanced and pleasantly light. It looks a little on the delicate side, but it is absolutely a weapon that means business. Wielded by someone who knows what they're doing, it could be deadly; an idiot could snap it in half with one poorly calculated move.

So that's what he meant by 'take proper care of it'.

[thatguywhohasablog]

Dave is half expecting it to catch before he can remove it, like Caledfwlch – and, he remembers, like Caledscratch in his dream – but he pulls it out without incident.

For now.

"Huh," he says, turning it over in his hand. "This is one fragile piece of shit. Like can I even hold this up in a strong wind or what?"

[bitofafiction]

"I will assume you don't want me to demonstrate its capabilities by murdering you with it. A rapier is not a broadsword and it won't withstand being used as one, but it is an excellent duelling weapon in the hands of someone who comprehends the strengths and limitations of the form."