Dawn had always been discerning. Rising against a heavy skyline, the sun brought warmth to a frostbitten world. Yet, Siamés didn't like it this way. The ground beneath looked almost pure in whited tints, reflecting gold with the rising sun and, encased by an enclosure of pine trees, perhaps the boy should have felt enthralled with the beauty of the frosted woodland. However, moving around in the day only posed problems, therefore this sudden awareness of the world only earned a drawn out hiss from the teenager. Outside of these woods, tensions soared high. Siamés felt safe under the cover of night, sleeping in an orange tent with the warmth of the campfire nearby. But, all camp members had to rouse eventually, and the others would probably get annoyed if he attempted to sleep in again. So, with an exaggerated yawn, he flipped upright and unzipped his tent, crawling into the wilderness.

This camp existed as a peaceful retreat from city life. Now, lurking against every city wall, a murderer crouched with a knife cloaked. Riots were commonplace, and the governmental system was in complete anarchy. This was something that Siamés, as a an Ultimate, felt threatened by. In his eyes, his talent was something to be celebrated. This didn't mean he held himself to a higher regard than others—no, he viewed all humans as equals—but something that he worked hard to grow and cultivate should be a gift, not a curse. With so many current attacks towards his very existence, living life without holding grudges was difficult. However, Siamés was grateful that he had found refuge with friends and relatives, surviving in the depths of the wilderness, away from urban society.

He raised himself, crawling through the camp. This irritated him. Where was Clyde? The freaking idiot had his leg. Without it, he couldn't walk. It wasn't rocket science.

Siamés threw his body back, sitting in the middle of the camp with furrowed brows and a palpable aura of frustration. Through squinted eyes, he saw two girls dragging sticks from the denser woodland, throwing them onto a pile under the shelter before giggling as they retreated into the wilderness. He had no opinion on their cheeriness, yet the usual upbeat vibe around the camp sometimes made him uneasy. Siamés tended to stigmatise the overly happy ones as 'moronic' or 'misled'. Their personality blinded them, almost like sheep pursuing an unachievable ideal.

Averting his attention, Siamés crossed his arms and began tapping his left foot on the floor impatiently. Had he known Clyde was usually this unreliable he would have entrusted his leg to someone else. Maybe that badass dark skinned lady who lived next to the jacked blonde guy. She seemed rather reliable, and Clyde was obviously proving to be unworthy of his right leg.

Finally, the familiar puff of brunette hair emerged from behind the tents. Siamés stared him down with narrowed eyes, earning a nervous chuckle from the African-American male. Despite attempting to look intimidating, Siamés truthfully only looked like a puppy throwing a temper tantrum.

'I want my right leg,' he said, mouth pressed into a firm line. '. . . You don't even have it, do you?'

In front, the male shrugged. 'Sorry.'

'Clyde I want my leg!'

He stepped back, raising his hands. 'Woah, calm down. I can get it for you.'

With that, the darker male hurried back to his tent. Siamés clutched his arm, tapping the floor with his free hand. He was definitely entrusting his leg to someone else after this. Just because Clyde had been close to his family didn't mean he got free passes. Siamés was adamant about being this uptight with everybody, no matter what. In the end, lenience only led to betrayal and heartbreak.

Clyde came back promptly, holding the prosthetic closely. Siamés let out a sigh, then locked eyes with him for the first time.

'Thank you,' he said, almost bitterly.

'You're welcome,' Clyde replied. 'You know, I don't why you don't just keep it with yourself instead?'

'Because I don't know how to attach it myself. It's difficult.'

Clyde pulled Siamés to a one-legged stand, then said, 'maybe it was your fault for being born a conjoined twin and all.'

The brunette tutted, averting his dark eyes. 'Yeah, because I totally went up to God before I was born and was like, "God, I'd really like to be a conjoined twin and risk super high mortality rates! Please let me be one!" Hah. Are you high, Clyde?'

'Then maybe you shouldn't have been separated—'

'Because that was totally my choice, right? And sure, I would've loved to deal with Senon attached to my crotch 24/7. I would have taken losing a leg over gaining another mouth any day.'

'You're cold,' Clyde said. Despite these words, he was smiling. 'You really are.'

Siamés didn't respond. After Clyde helped him attach the prosthetic he walked off, hands in pockets. The surrounding nature was much more appealing than humanity. Siamés felt attached to it, distanced from the questionable morality of the world. Next time he was sleeping with the prosthetic attached, no matter how uncomfortable it seemed.

The low, resonant voice of Clyde broke his thought train. He snapped his head back to him, irritation alight in his eyes. 'Siamés! The messenger wanted to see you!'

The teenager dropped his arms to his side, bowing backwards and staring. In this inverted world, he only noted one thing—Clyde's constant, jeering smile. He frowned, then flipped forth and waved goodbye, pressing onwards into the wilderness. Senhi, or the current messenger, was usually someone you didn't want to keep waiting.

Soon after this camp was established, one person was appointed each week to retain communication with the outside world. It was a dangerous task and no one ever volunteered, therefore choosing the participant was often randomised. Siamés had been selected once but, using his physical condition as an excuse, he was exempted from the task and any further drawing. Although Siamés would have usually applauded himself for this manipulation, there was nothing to be proud about. Had he gone out there, he would have died. It was that simple.

Someone like Senhi Nikkōnashi was fit for the job. She was lithe, short, and agile. With a previous background in cross-country it was blatant she knew how to act. Her black hair was tied high when she was out on the run, scouring the streets for messages from relatives and home addresses. In comparison to Siamés, Senhi was someone reliable and, had she not had any objections, she would have probably remained the messenger. In fact, Senhi had gotten the role an unusual amount of times, therefore Siamés questioned whether the drawings were being rigged.

When he approached her, her head snapped backwards like a wolf alert to pray. Siamés truly admired her. He clapped, walking towards her.

'Weirdo,' she said. Her hair covered her eyes—Siamés couldn't get a clear reading off of her. 'You have a message from another weirdo here.'

Senhi drew the letter from her pocket, giving it to him with a certain grace only rivalled by a swan. Siamés took it, then winked before disappearing behind the rows of trees. In private he exhaled, unfolding the letter before him. This was a new occurrence. He'd never received a message before.

'To whomever it may concern,

We have learned of your talents and want to keep you safe at our resort, considering that, as an Ultimate, you are one of the biggest targets and one of the most problematic if you were to be corrupted. We have identified a small group of students like you. Further information will be disclosed at the address below.

All recipients of this message are being contacted through a variety of different ways based on their Hope's Peak Academy student files. We understand the problems with communication at the present time. If no response is made, someone will be sent to find you.

From,

Name withheld.'

Any sane person would have questioned the legitimacy of this letter, yet Siamés did not. Instead, he slipped the letter in his pocket, certain that nothing would happen if he just ignored it.

He was wrong.

All characters featured here besides Siamés probably won't make an appearance after this point.

The rules and forms can be found on my profile.

In all honesty, I believe I'll probably just use this chapter as backstory and then delete it once the next one comes out. It's. . . Okay, well, I understand why it's like this. The kinks in the plot still need to be figured out, so I get it. But, the way this is progressing, it's in for a lot of plot holes.

Anyhow! Setting. We're setting upon a mountain where snow is plentiful, unable to leave as another 'killing game' ensues. This plot doesn't exist as an AU, but rather coincide with the canon. A lot of things are planned and I do intend to delve further into the mystery of this place, but for now I'm rather interested in where this takes me. Seeing as to how we're setting atop a mountain, expect a probable ski resort, and deaths by falling, hypothermia, and drowning—accidents, or framed? Due to this, snowboarders and skiers are welcomed, though of course every other talent is as well.

Lore: During The Tragedy, all Ultimates who were absent or away from school grounds were summoned to a secluded place for their protection. However, the others seemed more intent in making an example out of this resistance than letting it proceed, and thus another 'killing game' ensued. Defiance is futile, and now it will be proven.

Of course I need to actually catch up with Danganronpa before I make an official plot line. ಠ_ಠ

Also, due to Camp NaNoWriMo, I'll update at the beginning of August. For now, submissions.

CHARACTER LIST

MALE

01 | Siamés Marone | SHSL ?

02 | Isaac di Acroina | SHSL Violinist

03 | Romano Pselli | SHSL Butler

04 |

05 |

06 |

07 |

08 |

FEMALE

01 | Kurani Oni | SHSL Exorcist

02 |

03 |

04 |

05 |

06 |

07 |

08 |

I'm withholding a lot of information at the moment. I need to check over the documents before I make said information public.

2am. If things are wrong, I'll catch them in the morning. Gotta sleep, y'know. .-.