applenet | COUNTDOWN: PUTTING THE M IN MORALITY 3.0

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COUNTDOWN: PUTTING THE M IN MORALITY 3.0

Did someone contact you during your dreams? Perhaps you were lucky and a few images of your past lives were revealed to you. Then maybe when your phone begins to act strange, you aren't as surprised. Maybe there's a feeling that you've seen this before... could it be a case of deja-vu?

You could all say it started with a strange icon that popped up on your phone that day. September 9th, 2017, a mysterious icon begins your decent into a different world.

Did you press it right away out of curiosity? Did you press it accidentally trying to dismiss it? Or did you wait long enough for it to cover your entire screen, forcing you to interact with it? Either way, congratulations! You've got...a Terms of Service popping up in front of you?

Terms and Conditions ("Terms")
Last updated: September 9th, 2017

Please read these Terms and Conditions ("Terms", "Terms and Conditions") carefully before using the http:/www.applenet.net website (the "Service") operated by AppleNET ("us", "we", "our", "horse", "goat", "sheep", "apple", "shapple" "etc.").

Your access to and use of the Service is predicated on your acceptance of and compliance with these Terms.

By accessing or using the Service you agree to be bound by these Terms and agree to be part of The Team. If you disagree with any part of the terms then that's too bad. You already agreed to them by reading this far. Don't worry, you're not alone in this! In fact, you've probably had a little bit of a warning, right? Your friends warned you in dreams? Hopefully they did cause otherwise, SURPRISE!

AppleNET has no control over and assumes no responsibility for content posted or user privacy. You further acknowledge and agree that AppleNET and its affiliates shall not be responsible or liable, directly or indirectly, for any damage or loss caused or alleged to be caused by or in connection with use of or reliance on any such content, goods, death, night shifts, or services available on or through any such web sites or services.

Governing Law
These Terms shall be governed and construed in accordance the laws, by which we mean with little regard to its conflict with any laws. Are you still even reading this? I bet no one really reads this. PS for all apple pie needs, please contact Luci at Luci@applenet.com

Changes
We reserve the right, at our sole discretion, to modify or replace these Terms at any time. If a revision is material we will try to provide at least 0 days notice prior to any new terms taking effect. What constitutes a material change will be solely determined at our discretion.

By continuing to access or use our Service after those revisions become effective, you agree to be bound by the revised terms. You don't have much choice cause it's time to start fighting back! You can do it! Or at least it will be interesting to see...

Contact Us
If you have any questions about these Terms, please contact us.

You quickly notice there is no contact number or address. Uhh---

DO YOU AGREE TO THESE TERMS?
Yes | Hell Yes | Man I Can'T Wait to See What this is About! | APPLES!
It really seems like you don't have much choice. After pressing one of the four buttons (one of them trailing off to the side of the screen), a new screen greets you.

21 DAYS REMAIN BEFORE FULLY AWAKENING

Hey! Welcome to your new half life. Something like that. I'm Luci! You don't know who I am, but I know who you are. Freaky huh? But that's okay, cause you got a few of your friends coming in too. Anyway, answer these questions, we're gonna have a fun time talking about them, I'm not being all fancy this time, got it? Don't worry if the answer sounds 'bad'. After all, you're gonna be working with the rest of us! What's the worst that could happen?

I mean, bad things could happen. But that's why there's other people to help you! CHECK IT OUT GUYS I DID A FRIENDSHIP THING. PS - If you see something from a guy called "Guts", he can be really mean sometimes, so be careful!!!

Are they... acting like they’ve just hired you for a new job? (And really being impolite too. Who is this Guts guy?)

The first (and only) question for today is:

Would you kill a man/woman?

1) Yes! That sounds fun.

2) Yes, but only because they killed someone I loved.

3) Yes, but only out of self-defence.

4) This question is confusing me because I am unable to reach a proper conclusion.

5) No! That's so wrong!

6) No, but mostly because no one should know about my dark secrets.

7) No, I'm too pure.

8) No, but I'd pay someone else to do it. Guilt free, AND smart!

As you go to pick out an option... or try to exit out of it... you witness an all-too brief memory of a life you think isn't yours. A flash that makes you think you were hallucinating... or maybe something you've seen before in your mind. Your head hurts, your heartbeat increases dramatically, and you can barely see anything ahead of you...

Wait, did you already pick something? You don't remember touching the screen, but something's already been highlighted and pressed for you. Staring at the 'saving' prompt, you will later find out it was a deeper memory from your heart. It might terrify you, what you've picked.

After that, the program displays nothing else for a few seconds before a chatroom (appleNET chat v.301.02) boots up, with a username already attached to your account and a little icon, either a sword or a ship steering wheel, next to it. More worryingly, your answer is the first thing posted from your name. Not even a hi or hello.

Well good thing no one has any idea who you are... right?

But don't worry... this time you're not quite alone.

[OOC: The memory should only last for a few seconds, but it would be something significant that would surprise them. It could even be related to this question!

All mentions of their profession or other clues that might reveal who they are will be changed to [INFORMATION LOCKED]. However, due to the dream memories, their usernames will be a combination of the demon you chose for their Persona and their REAL name (not their AU one).

FOR PLAYERS ALREADY IN THE GAME: Your character now has their REAL name and their demon name. Additionally, NOTHING GETS CENSORED WHEN YOUR CHARACTER SPEAKS.

For the new players, have fun!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Fubuki's aim is pretty spot on, but unfortunately for him this isn't the first time that something's been thrown at Vincent. he manages to put the offending cigarette safely in his mouth before the stone ricochets off his hand without so much as a wince. he could probably have avoided that, yes, but that wouldn't have proved the point half as well.

he stands leisurely, as if some punk kid hadn't just called him out, taking his time to come down from the bleachers and get onto the field proper. when he finally deigns to respond it's clear why.]

As soon as I see something worth respecting.

[because there certainly wasn't anything worth that sort of effort present right now. once Vincent gets onto the pitch he discards his cigarette right onto the grass before wandering closer to his opponent, that same smug air of nonchalance enveloping him.

he never drops his butts onto the ground once he's finished with them, and has no intention of leaving even that one in place there. but it's clearly an action that'll wind Fubuki up even further, and he can't help but want to antagonize him to the fullest.]

[It was one thing to disrespect him, Fubuki could even live with that. But showing such blatant disregard for the field where his favorite sport was played, and even for nature itself...that was unforgivable.

In that way, the boy before him reminded him so much of Fudou. Antagonistic to the last, he'd do anything to draw a reaction out of his opponents. Fubuki had wanted to punch Fudou for some of the foul things that the other boy had said. And if it hadn't been for Someoka's interference, his chiding reminder that he'd be benched if he got violent, he probably would have socked him one, too. It wasn't like Fudou hadn't asked for it, turning his cheek towards him and even smirking...

...it was much the same expression that 'Hiei' wore now.

And this time, Someoka wasn't there to remind Fubuki to keep his anger in check. This time, there was no game he could lose by swinging first and asking questions later.

But first...

With a derisive snort, he turned and stalked across the grass towards the cigarette butt. After scooping it up out of the green blades he pinched the end between his fingers to make certain it was good and out, and then stuffed it into his pocket to be discarded properly after their fight.

And it was a fight he looked more than ready to take on now as he finally turned his attention back to the older boy, golden eyes zeroing in on Vincent.]

Okay, I'm ready now.

[there was absolutely no way for Fubuki to know that Vincent had intended to pick it up himself later, after the fight had resolved itself. it was a natural reaction for someone so protective over a sports field, completely understandable - but he doesn't give the other boy any of that courtesy.

all he sees is Fubuki wasting his time on a pointless endeavor that would have been easily fixed without his interference, and that uselessness strikes him as hilarious. his harsh laughter will follow his opponent to the cigarette and back, cold and derisive. if it seems that he's making fun of him even further, that's perfectly acceptable.

to his credit, he waits until Fubuki returns and asserts his readiness to begin before even contemplating action. even so, he gives no warning; his laughter hasn't even wound down before Vincent's fist is flying out at full force, aimed straight at the younger boy's jaw. he seems dedicated to keeping his prior promise to thoroughly break it.]

[On the pitch, the boy with the gentle heart known as Shirou Fubuki was an unrivaled defender. He excelled at sweeping the ball away from the opposing team and sending it to his own teammates, thrilled in the success of their cooperative formations and doing what he could to assist his friends in scoring a goal. Because a point earned by one of the forwards or anyone else was a point earned together by the whole team.

But there was another side to the boy, one that had awoken on a field not unlike Green Valley's when he'd been younger...after the passing of his family. Even without Atsuya's scarf present to act as a conduit, Shirou heard his brother's voice loud and clear.

Let me blow through him. He's mine.

It was that voice that had led him here, that voice that had changed soft charcoal grey eyes to gold, and that voice which prompted his response to Vincent's attack.

Atsuya had never been a defender. Preferring the front lines for the ability to attack and bask in the glory of scoring points on his own, he'd brought a rather wicked offense to their playstyle...and together they'd been perfect.

And he felt so close to perfect now, allowing his brother to take full control and guide his actions, drive him forward. Spurred by that laughter. Spurred by the insult. But mostly spurred by the all-consuming need to win, he met that hook head on, knuckles bruising, the taste of copper rising against his tongue, but by turning his head just so, he succeeded in keeping the blow from breaking anything.

And gave himself all the opportunity he needed to sink his teeth deep into that hand like some kind of feral wolf, too.]

[the pain is a surprise, but a welcome one. it elicits another laugh from Vincent, albeit much different; this one has a feral edge all its own, something equal parts delighted and dangerous. they'd made no agreement, but he can see there's no reason here for him to hold back.

he lets Fubuki bite as much as he wants, pushing right past the annoying pain. instead his fingers use the opening to find their way into the other boy's mouth, taking a firm hold of his bottom jaw and rendering it impossible for him to relinquish his grip without outside interference. with his newfound grip he pulls his opponent's head sharply down, moving his entire body to collide painfully with his rising knee.

he does it again, and again, and again. if Fubuki doesn't attempt to escape he clearly intends to repeat the action until he vomits or loses consciousness.]

[He didn't bother trying to escape, not at first. Vincent's knee crashed into his face once, twice, three times and he tasted blood, but that was fine because it wasn't just his own. Every time the other boy's knee drove upwards, Fubuki's teeth sank deeper into those fingers, and the deeper they sank, the greater the threat that he might actually bite them right off.

Unless he was released.

Though it seemed he didn't have a mind for that, didn't care about retreat at all. And as Vincent's knee came up again, Fubuki wrapped his arms around the offending leg and, with a wild growl, threw all of his weight forward in an attempt to bowl the older boy over...]

[Vincent cares for losing his fingers about as much as Fubuki's concerned with preventing internal bleeding, it seems. each time the other boy's jaws dig deeper into his hands it only prompts a more vicious follow-up kick; it's as if he's feeding off the violence of his opponent, growing more and more worked up as time goes on.

even with Fubuki's small stature, his enemy is equally diminutive that with enough force his attempts to knock him over actually succeed. unfortunately for him, this fight is taking place after another brawl where something quite similar occurred - and so this time he's ready to react.

he takes the fall with readiness, focusing all of his efforts onto using both his trapped leg and the other boy's head to continue the momentum until they've completely flipped a second time. if it succeeds he'll waste no time in doling out his punishment of slamming Fubuki's skull into the grass repeatedly.]

[Fubuki was quick to surrender Vincent's leg as they rolled over, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would need as much mobility in his arms as he could muster if he was to get out from under his opponent. And what a wise decision it had been, too. As his back was slammed down against the ground, his lungs struggling to keep a breath inside, he was fortunate to be able to seize a fistful of Vincent's hair and pull...

Anything to wrench him off and to the side, even if it meant taking some of the skin from his scalp at the same time. It'd serve the bastard right!

It was desperation that fueled him now, completely raw and unrefined. What more did he have to lose, anyway? He'd already lost one family and one brother, and now another had disappeared along with his friends, too! He didn't want to be alone anymore, but that loneliness was all he had! Except for his memories, he'd been left with nothing. And this person had insulted those fragile remains...

He wouldn't forgive that! Told himself that Desarm kicked harder, that Guts' punches were more devastating, and that even the shadows were more fearsome than this asshole!]

[there's no such desperation in his opponent's actions, only the gleeful abandon of the fight. it's nothing close to the violence he'd experienced only a few days before, but he's more than willing to take a downgrade in order to sate the constant lust for a clash.

the urge, a constant through most of his life, had been flaring even more aggressively in recent times. in quieter moments he can't help but wonder if those visions have something to do with it.

Vincent resists for as long as he can, but with bits of his scalp tearing off into Fubuki's hand even his bullheaded struggles are no match. he finally falls to his opponent's side, but not before throwing an arm out to wrap around the other boy's neck. so long as he could keep the pressure up in some way he still had the advantage.]

[A strangled growl escaped the younger boy when Vincent's arm slipped around his neck. Sleep was the enemy, he knew that! Knew that it was the one thing that could ever hope to slow him down or bring him to a halt. He didn't want to be unconscious, because other things had the chance to catch up then. Memories and emotions and worst of all, loneliness.

So he fought, and he fought hard, fingers clawing at Vincent's arm, legs kicking wildly and elbow flying in the hopes of hitting a knee or his groin or jabbing into the other boy's rib cage...anything. But he hadn't been prepared for this, and slowly the strength of his blows began to diminish.

Through clenched teeth he rasped an unintelligible insult, or perhaps it was simply muttered in Japanese, but after a few moments more he stopped struggling to get free and had grown still. A last ditch effort to maintain consciousness by preserving some energy. Whatever was left, anyway.]

[nearly every single blow Fubuki aims in desperation hits its mark, but it does very little for its situation. his opponent feeds off the pain instead, taking all of the growing negativity in his heart and feeding it right back into the strength of his grip around the younger boy's neck.

Vincent laughs at the sound of what can only be an obscenity in any language, pulling his arm even tighter as his foe ceases to move. he can still feel his pulse racing under his skin, and so his grip remains strong and in place. he can't, however, resist a little further provocation.]

Is that really all you've got?

Give me a...break!

[That provocation was a challenge that Fubuki rose to meet.

Literally.

He ought to have continued trying to save his strength, biding his time until Vincent got bored and let him go, but his temper was still flaring, and there was little else he hated as much as being underestimated.

Planting his feet under him on the ground, Fubuki shoved off with all the power in his legs he could muster. If he was lucky, that son-of-a-bitch would bite his tongue off. And if not, he'd still give him a sharp headbutt straight to the chin.]

[unfortunately his ability to make snarky comments in the future is still unimpeded, but at the very least the headbutt connects with a resounding crack.

Vincent was hoping for some sort of retaliation, but he'd be lying if he said that he was expecting that sort in particular. he's not laughing as his jaw clicks together and he's thrown from his asphyxiating position, but there's definite satisfaction in his face as he finds his footing again.

this wasn't the most challenging fight that he'd ever been involved with, but just the act of violence was enough for him. he was more than pleased to find that it would be extended, even just a little longer.

his vision is still slightly dazed from the blow, forcing him to temporarily take the defensive. Vincent focuses on righting himself completely, waiting for his opponent to make the next move rather than charging in unsteadily.he's riled up, after all - it would come soon enough. even someone with as little patience as himself could wait for that.]

[At least one of them knew to take a moment to recover...

Unfortunately for Fubuki, he wasn't the one.

The second that he was released and was able to suck in a much needed breath of unrestricted air, he desperately swallowed the urge to choke and cough and rounded sharply on the older boy. He could punch him. He wanted to, even! Punch him a dozen times in that smug face of his! But his kicks were much, much stronger. And he was gearing up to hoof Vincent as hard as he could in the knee when a rather irate woman called out from the direction of the school.

"What in the world are you boys doing!"

Fubuki froze, glaring in her direction. He recognized her as one of the teachers. Not his own, but certainly one who knew him.

"Violence isn't permitted here. Mr Jin, you know better! And you..." She looked at Vincent as she stalked closer, heeled shoes more than a little wobbly on the grass, but not subtracting from the authority with which she carried herself. "...I don't believe I've seen you before. What's your name?"]

[ah, typical. Vincent should have known better than to agree to a school setting for this sort of meeting, but in his excitement it had completely slipped his mind. he straightens up further now that their fight has been shut down, no need to prepare for any incoming attacks, and levels the approaching teacher with a flat look.]

None of your damn business. I don't go to school here.

[his hands find their way into his pockets, the pose of all true punks and delinquents. there's no fear in his heart over being caught, only annoyance that he hadn't been able to make good on his promise to shatter Fubuki's jaw.]

If it bothers you so much then call the cops.

[The teacher's brows lowered, her hands coming to rest in fists on her hips at Vincent's show of delinquency. She expected this sort of behavior from the riffraff in Green Valley's neighboring district, but not here and certainly not from Kouyuki. He could be unruly and rowdy, but he'd never done something like this before.

"Believe me," she said, one pointy eyebrow darting up on her forehead as she looked at Vincent again. Almost as if memorizing his features. "I'm going to be calling them."

She turned her attention back to Fubuki then, but the boy was already scrubbing off his face on his shirt and ignoring the pair.

"Mr Jin, I'm going to have to ask you to come back to the office with me." She'd have to call his aunt and uncle about this, and have the school nurse take a look at him. Except he had a different idea, hands dropping his shirt and clenching rebelliously at his sides, mouth curving into a smug line.

Sitting in an office didn't sound like very much fun. And besides...]

Who's going to make me?

[it shouldn't be hard to remember, not with the amount of hardware artfully screwed into it. Vincent makes no attempts to hide his features, even tilting his head briefly to face the teacher completely, as if daring her to do something with the information.

Fubuki's idiotic show of defiance draws his attention away from silently threatening to get into a fistfight with a middle-aged woman, coercing an unkind laugh from him. and people called him boneheaded.]

A gentle breeze, probably.

[it seemed that some people just never learned. their fight had already been broken up, and yet here Vincent was, antagonizing his former foe even more by commenting on how outrageously weak he'd been.]

[Fubuki's reaction to Vincent's comment was lightning quick. As if the teacher knew what was coming, she trudged forward across the grass, perhaps with the intent to forcibly wedge herself between the two boys, but by then it was already too late. The younger of the two delinquents gave a twitch and then lunged in Vincent's direction, all kicks and punches and unintelligible grumbling about showing him a gentle breeze.]

[that was exactly what he wanted. with a hideous laugh Vincent rushes forward to meet the ball of anger he'd prodded to life, completely heedless of their audience. let her watch. maybe she'd actually learn something.

he powers through a great deal of the blows, making no attempt to avoid them, in order to deliver some powerful punches of his own. Fubuki's not really thinking right now and that makes him vulnerable; if he can find a good opening then he'll be able to send him crashing into the ground again.]

[Albeit not as quickly as he might like, Vincent still gets what he wants. After several exchanges, Fubuki is tumbling to the ground again, but not without sending a fierce kick towards the older boy's kneecaps. The fact the teacher is shrieking at them both at this point seems completely lost on him. All he cares about is putting this jerk in his place and winning.]

[that does cause him to buckle, but it's fine. Vincent angles his descent to smash on top of his opponent, arm thrust out to drive deep into his stomach. he's willing to get splattered if it means that his attack had caused the other boy to puke.]

[Well, that sure does it, though it's fortunate for Vincent that Fubuki has enough sense and control to kick and shove the other boy off before turning his head to the side and spitting up. He might be a little gremlin in his own right, but he was raised to be respectful. Sometimes. Or at least to not be completely gross.]

[fortunate for him, yes, but certainly not something that he deserves. Vincent rolls over a bit after being shoved off before sitting upright and having himself a good laugh over Fubuki's plight, completely heedless of what a total douchebag that makes him. kid knew what was coming when he agreed to this.]

[His clothes were spared the embarrassing mess, and what little vomit spotted Fubuki's chin was easily wiped off on the back of his hand. This did nothing for his sore insides, however. And less for his wounded ego. If he were home, someone like Vincent would be nothing to him. He'd conquered bears in the past. But this place was all wrong and so was he. His kicks just didn't have the power they used to, not without his Persona...

A sensible person would have stayed down, but a sensible person wouldn't have had the same drive to win as him.

Driving his fist against the ground with a low curse that startled the teacher and forced her back several steps, Fubuki pushed himself back to his feet. If he was going to be perfect, he couldn't allow someone like Vincent to get the better of him. He would blow over anyone who got in his way!]

I'm not finished...

[He would never be at this rate, not until he was knocked out of commission.]

You've been finished since we started.

[only someone as recklessly cocky as Vincent would have the confidence to taunt a clearly desperate and charging enemy. but that was simply how he saw it - after all the tussles he'd been in, especially lately, Fubuki was nothing to him. nothing more than a pleasant distraction.

he chuckles and reaches out as the other boy was struggling to rise to grab a fistful of his hair. if he succeeds then his plan is to use his opponent as unnecessary leverage to get back onto his feet himself, sending him crashing back into the ground at the same time. he'd put him in the dirt as many times as it took - or until he grew bored.]

COUNTDOWN: PUTTING THE M IN MORALITY 3.0

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