dash931 said: What precisely does the 'It might actually work this time' mean for skipping? Do we end up having to go to school anyway, something drops by our house like a homing missile, or something else? Click to expand... Click to shrink...

(More seriously: In the interests of player agency I have notes and ideas - especially on what each week's theme is - but for the most part I'm slightly winging this. I know what would have happened if we'd skipped though.)

~=~​

Since it appears we have a consensus...You would have spent the day at home and nothing would happen. Honest.It never hurts to be prepared. I pull the last one out from the cardboard box, reflecting on the need to make another order in bulk. A testing rattle, and I know from long experience it should be good for 20 or so uses. At least on mostly ordinary people. Scrabbling around in the few minutes I have left, I snatch up one of the burn phones left lying around - never know when you need a lawyer to work you out of some magical contract signed before you were born - and hook that into my belt as well, but then I have to be off.I snatch up the toast on the way out, even if it's cold. Since I'm going to be running anyway, I may as well ensure I arrive inthe nick of time.It's a long run, but I can make it whilst eating toast. The bus services are all still on strike after that time they got transformed into sentient robots, and bicycles have an irritating habit of trying to fly to the moon whenever I crest the hill. Better to always trust my own two feet. Or at least when I'm responsible for choosing my own footwear. Dashing down the footpath, I carefully avoid the masked robed people stopping passers-by at random, the trinket shop I know wasn't there yesterday, and all the signs and posters that tell me to 'visit the new sentient park, because it's totally a good idea!'I skid to a halt inside seconds before the gates slam shut and activate their laser defence grid. It's a really, really bad idea to be late, here.I adjust my satchel, check my pepper spray, and look up at the incredibly bland exterior of concrete, barbed wire and sandbags that make up my current choice of high school. Because all the other ones closed down.This is St. Mary's Coed We-Swear-We-Didn't-Build-It-On-A-Hellmouth-This-Time School for The Vaguely Catholic Militant Church. It really isn't built on a Hellmouth this time. There's a few craters here and there but honestly it's lasted the longest out of any school I've ever been to.I'm almost attached to the place.Keeping my gaze straight ahead, I run through the dawdling crowd without ever making eye contact. I dump the forever breeding colony of letters in my shoe locker back in the bin, aware they'll have migrated back by lunchtime. At my customary 5 seconds before homeroom begins, I set my satchel down on my desk, positioned in the back corner as far from the windows as possible. As usual, everyone sitting down that column is already transfixed; obliviously brooding at the world outside.It's dangerous, sitting near windows.The Homeroom Teacher Who Is Definitely Not A Nun With A Sword enters with a beaming smile, and happily announces that she has an announcement. My shoulders tense immediately."Boys and girls, we have a new transfer student today!"[] Jump out of the nearest window[] Attempt to escape into the ceiling tiles[] Hide under the desk[] Sit very still and pretend not to notice them[] Request to leave for the nurse's office[] Immediate application of pepper spray, whoever they are (20 uses left)[] Write in