Pay in to Paradise - IC is up~

“A little devil woke me in the middle of the night,
Fluttered down beside me and gave me quite a fright,
He whispered in my ear with a voice that burned like ice -
Your friends are dead, your life is gone, pay in to paradise.”


~~~


Okay so.

Basically, a group of random kids have been taken in the middle of the night – spirited to this uninhabited town, which seems an isolated place in the surrounding wilderness. Every night since, each kid is visited by their personal captor, which takes a grotesque form and targets their weaknesses to tempt them towards a certain evil, which would, supposedly, earn them a place in an unknown paradise. Other than this oddity, the kids are quite similar to today’s youth – they will make friends, they will fight, and above all, they will need to find some way to survive in an unfamiliar place. I honestly did not realize that this was partially inspired by Lord of the Flies until about halfway through development.

Rules:

1. All yer standards (godmodding, etc.)
2. Autohitting is allowed. Autokilling is not – make sure you have permission before mashing in their mealy skulls.
3. You need to eat, drink, sleep, relieve yourself… all the normal and realistic bodily functions.
4. You are visited by your demon every night, though not everyone at the exact same time. If you don’t feel up to it you can describe the encounter in brief, flying through to the next day.
5. No one can see your demon except you; additionally, during a visit, you cannot see or otherwise detect anyone else.
6. Passage of time? We’ll play it by ear.
7. If and when you succumb to your demon’s temptation, your character will be whisked away to unknowns the following night. However…
8. You can have up to three characters. I would suggest just one to start off, but more can always be added once things have gotten going.
9. The roleplay will start as most everyone – aside from Twocoats - will arrive in the early morning hours at the Point of Entry, an expansive and elevated hill of mud and yellow grasses that overlooks the town on one side and a steep cliff on the other. Players will find eachother, attempt to make sense of their mysterious circumstances (remembering nothing of their lives but their demons’ visit) and the story will go from there.
10. Violence can be graphic, language can be vulgar, but keep any romance under control. I’ll judge what’s over the top, but the harshest treatment you’ll get is a warning or a request to edit out the offending segment. >3<
11. Have fun, you know? Posts don’t have to be that long. Just take your character and run with them, be creative and work with your fellow RPers and this will be a blast. A slightly dark blast, if everything turns out according to plan, but a blast nonetheless. :3

Sheet:

Name: ”I can’t remember my real name. I go by [number + random object] now.”
Gender: ”What, can’t you tell?”
Age: ”I think I’m [between 10 and 20].”
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): ”My height… Weight… Hair, skin, eye color… Clothing… General impressions, really. I would say I’m sort of… but, then I can be…”
Interests/Hobbies: ”To list them? Well, I certainly enjoy…”
Peeves/Dislikes: ”Funny you should ask. It really ticks me off when…”
Demon: ”Ugh… The creature comes every night, right as I am starting to get sleepy. It looks sort of like… and its voice, it sounds like…”
Temptation: ”When it comes, it always talks about a way out of this place. Tells me I have to [Murder? Steal? Lie? Betray?], like it knows all of my weaknesses, and then I’ll be in paradise. I gotta admit, it is sort of tempting… I don’t want to talk about it.”
Miscellaneous: ”My quirks, my habits, my disorders, my beliefs, my possessions? Not sure if there’s much else to say. I mean, I’m sure I had a past, but I can’t really remember it, so...”

~~~

Residents:

Name: Twocoats (MataRahi)
Gender: Male
Age: Twelve
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): Twocoats is a clumsy and nervous child, whose small, slouched, and portly silhouette quickly betrays these qualities. His appearance and jittery temperament, however, mask an advanced intelligence uncommon among his peers. He makes up for what he lacks athletically by the quality of his ideas and his hidden cleverness. Unfortunately, Twocoats can only function at his optimal level when left to his own demises – in the company of others, he has a bad habit of voicing every bad thought that comes to mind, and keeping all of the good ones unspoken. This has led him on a life of ridicule – though Twocoats’ memories may have disappeared, looking into his flitting, green-brown eyes tells a story of wrong turns, lucky breaks, and perpetually waiting for a chance to shine.
Twocoats is dressed in heavy clothing – winter wear, perhaps – at the time of his arrival. A thin, knotted belt secures baggy trousers of gray cotton around his chubby waistline, terminating just before reaching his ankles to reveal long white socks nested underneath brown hiking boots. He wears a simple beige shirt with patterns plastered across its surface in complex geometry of sky-blue and white. Covering his pale arms and thick neck is a deep brown, fur-lined jacket, and dominating his flock of curly brown hair is a gray ushanka with furry flaps that droop downwards like dog’s ears to flank his fearfully curious and admiring face.
Interests/Hobbies: He enjoys literature (both fictional and nonfictional but with a particular emphasis on ancient history), likes to catalogue every new find of his (keeping a journal for both scientific and personal purposes), is fascinated by sculpture, enjoys showing off his knowledge and making friends, and takes great satisfaction from cooking.
Peeves/Dislikes: He despises competitions of the physical sort, scary stories, large bugs, having to write or sculpt (while he adores works created by others, he is horrid at the activities himself and quickly becomes frustrated), and being ignored.
Demon: ”Like a snake it slithered, though in shape it was more reminiscent of a limbless dog, or perhaps a fish that had grown tired of scales and decided to grow thick, matted, slimy… evil fur in their stead… And indeed, a thousand animals it could have been, for the abomination that crouched on my windowsill seemed to be of a different form when it hopped with unnatural ability to the floor, and when it had slid with a soft hiss to the foot of my bed, the creature had appeared to have shifted once again – such was the horror of its form and the extent of my terror as I gazed, paralyzed, into those bottomless eyes and jagged maw, which quivered loosely on its hinge in the darkness. Its voice was a thing of deceptive comfort, as if from the throat of a loving mother, and I hated and feared the thing all the more because of it.”
Temptation: Laziness / overindulgence
Miscellaneous: Though not athletic in the slightest, Twocoats insists upon wearing his hat and jacket even during a sweaty jog. He was the first to have been taken by his demon, and arrived here precisely two days before everyone else did, meaning he has a slight knowledge of the area.

Name: Sixtrout (MataRahi)
Gender: Female
Age: Seventeen
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): Bad posture gives Sixtrout a height of five-foot-six, as she is constantly leaning slightly backwards, but in dire circumstances she can conjure up another half-inch or so. She has, ever since a young age, taken to the habit of coating her thin hands, arms, legs, and face with marker – sometimes as reminders, sometimes as fashion statements. Though the markings were washed off daily, over the years, Sixtrout’s pale skin has absorbed and adopted a plethora of different and very light hues throughout its near entirety. Her eyes are an inquisitive gray, and well-groomed, prideful black hair sprouts in a ponytail from the back of her dimpled and angular head, which is glided by silver-white spectacles.
Sixtrout is, when in any company of people, a notably pleasant and charming person. She is social, talkative (yet not overly so), and in conversation asserts the strangest viewpoints, yet each seems sensible when heard in her comparatively low, perky voice. When on her own, however, Sixtrout adopts a much more pessimistic stance on just about everything. This is how she really is – spiteful and far from naïve – but one would notice none of these qualities unless they thought hard upon a conversation with her. There is, however, a certain charm to her negativity that makes it seem tolerable, almost preferable, to charity, and it is clear no matter how one looks at it that – hidden vindictiveness notwithstanding - Sixtrout is a very and naturally happy person. When she smiles, it is as if watching the sun poke through the moody clouds of a rainstorm, and if only for a second, a great and defiant warmth is felt.
She wears simple blue jeans, slightly ragged at the ankles, along with a long-sleeved blue shirt and diminutive green jacket. Her wrists are adorned with vain bracelets of varying size and color. Upon her head rests a golf cap of plaid brown. Navy-blue sandals are strapped to her bony feet.
Interests/Hobbies: Sixtrout has a particular interest in weaving, sewing, and all things related to the transformation of thin strands of fabric into colorful and wearable garments. She enjoys reading and writing poetry, swimming, collecting small and colorful stones, watching old movies in different languages, and eating, and eating, and eating (Must have a high metabolism or something).
Peeves/Dislikes: Though she dislikes most messy animals (Really, most animals, with the exception of birds and certain reptiles/amphibians), documentaries, politics, and people who chew with their mouth open or throw away uneaten dinners or otherwise disrespect food, what Sixtrout hates most are people who are nicer, kinder, or more amiable than she is – or rather, what she appears to be. It inspires in her a fierce sense of competition.
Demon: ”It appeared as if a blinking eye had reopened, shimmering into existence like water pieces together the moon’s reflection as the ripples that distort its surface attain silence. Two legs of reptile, two of boar, two of mollusk and two of man unfolded from its disproportionate and arachnid frame, stretching to impossible contortions and seeming constantly in motion from the thick, undulating hairs that coated every inch of its body – save for the eyes, which lay scattered in random patterns all about the head and abdomen. They appeared to be of every species imaginable and swirled with insanity in their vast difference of size and color. The demon’s voice bulged with disgusting power, each word slow and deliberate, feeling as if the creature had been forcing masses of slime down your throat, which oozed and thrashed about of their own accord inside of you for long after its long, thick, pulsating tongue ceased moving inside the creature’s delicate jaws – which seemed constantly stretched to a painful limit and at risk of splitting for the sheer mass of the slimy tendril that oozed forth from their confines. Indeed, perhaps the beast was hollow, and inside lay the tongue’s entirety in leviathan and revoltingly coiled masses, pulsing and fit to burst with the flow of slime inside it.”
Temptation: Hatred / cruelty
Miscellaneous: Sixtrout has invented her own personal religion, the worship of Which, and prays to him/her/it on a regular basis.

Name: Ninestone (V)
Gender: Male
Age: 13
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): He is around 5’5 in height. He is somewhat skinny and weighs in at most 110. He is very weak physically. He has dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. His hair is in a bowl cut just long enough to cover his eyes. His hair is brown.
He is a hateful, bitter person. He stereotypes people, and bases all interactions with people on certain groups on prior interactions until he gets to know the new person. He holds grudges far longer than he should, and has no qualms with doing things as long as he can’t get into trouble. Given this newfound anarchy… He’ll be unpredictable.
He is a habitual liar, and enjoys deceiving people. He is conniving, and a backstabber. He does not hesitate to steal things if he thinks he can get away with it. If he is told not to do something he will just try and find a way to do it without getting caught. He is a pyromaniac and a little bit sadistic. Surprisingly, he is an animal lover. He is very negative, and prior comrades have said he’s depressing to be with. He is very intelligent.
Interests/Hobbies: Medicine, bladed weaponry, Listening to music, Talking to people, Fires, Animals.
Peeves/Dislikes: Self-righteous people, people who imply that people are innately good, overly happy people, Arthropods of any sort, people who are ignorant or unintelligent, people who will not accept an argument and instead just keep saying “Nuh uh, I’m right!” without evidence
Demon: It is a man, or rather was one. It is a twisted bastardization of the human form, chitinous and desiccated. It has no visible eyes, and it walks in a strange matter. It looks bony, and an equivalent of ribs are visible on its shiny black form. It seems more insect than human, but in ways is uncannily human-like. Its teeth seem all normal, but it is visible if you look that its canine teeth are a set of cruel fangs now. It has talons upon its spidery fingers. Its voice is a rasping hiss, the voice of something long-forgotten that should not be. It speaks with cruelty and conviction, in the way of a powerful leader in some unholy hive.
Temptation: It tells him to kill someone who trusts and believes him, to kill a friend. A stranger will not do. This is going to take an intricate web of lies.
Miscellaneous: He has studied medicine, and knows most of the relevant body points for killing/incapacitating someone. This compensates for his lack of strength.

Name: Threeblade (Lupus)
Gender: Female
Age: Sixteen
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): Threeblade is a pretty unassuming person, honestly. She’s about 5’4’’ and somewhat on the thin side. It’s sort of an athletic thin-ness, like the physique you see in a sprinter, lean but tough. The light tan of her skin also points towards someone who spends a lot of their time outdoors. A long, pale, two-line scar runs from the outer corner of her right eye to the lowest point of her chin. Most of the time her jet-black hair is tied back in a low ponytail, but when it’s let loose it reaches to just below her shoulders. Her eyes are a sort of stormy grey, like clouds just before they dump their contents unceremoniously on the world below. They hold a world of untold stories and, due to the loss of her memories, they might just remain that way. That lack-of-telling is also aided by her innate quietness. It is because she’s shy or anything, cause she’s not, talking just isn’t her thing. She’s more of the listening type.
When she arrived, she was wearing a simple pair faded jeans, torn at the knees so that the whiter thread trail over the skin on her knees and just below them. They are equally worn down on the back portion of the hem due to the heels of her shoes sometimes catching them as she walked. Because they’re frayed, they don’t get caught much anymore. She was also wearing a simple black t-shirt with a silver feather design on the front. She was also wearing a navy jacket with darker blue twisting details on the sleeves. For shoes, she goes with simple black tennis shoes with aqua-blue and dark blue detailing on their sides and soles. They’re great for running, hiking, and (occasionally) climbing. There’s a simple pair of worn-down fingerless gloves in her right pocket, though from what she can’t really seem to remember.
Interests/Hobbies: Threeblade enjoys walking out in the wilderness; she enjoys that simple peace that comes with being alone with nature and her thoughts. It’s soothing to her, although she wouldn’t enjoy being out there on her own in the middle of the night. Climbing is also a favorite pastime, as well as reading when she has the time and something enjoyable to read.
Peeves/Dislikes: Though she loves reading herself, she can’t stand know-it-alls or those that think they know everything there is to know in the world, but in reality are quite a bit dumber than the average person. Threeblade also doesn’t tolerate people who take advantage of others and will try to stick up for the victims in those situations despite her quiet disposition.
Demon: The main word that comes to mind when one sees this abomination is “sinuous,” for at all times some part of it seems to be slithering through the air. Two heads top its emaciated-thin, scale-coated body, each equally terrifying in its own way. Both are covered in scales that change color as it moves and both have a rather draconic appearance. The left head is somewhat feminine, with a long mane of hair blacker than a starless night, a thinner muzzle, and thickly-lashed rosy eyes. She speaks with a voice like wind whistling through the trees, promising peace if only Threeblade will do as she requests. The right head is topped with two curved ram horns, rusty red eyes that speak of whole universes of suffering, a spike-tipped snout, and a spiked mane. He speaks with a voice harsh as thunder over the mountains, cautioning against how difficult her existence will be if she doesn’t heed his advice. The body is home to six sets of legs, each with three obsidian claws on the end, one acting sort of like a thumb. It has a twisting tail with spines placed randomly down its length, with no rhyme or reason, and on its end is a scorpion’s barb. How long it is from snout to tail-tip is actually up to estimation, because it seems to be constantly shifting and changing shape like a smoky haze. Thin tendrils are constantly reaching off of the main body; some are even tipped by extra hands or poison quills.
Temptation: Murder
Miscellaneous: Threeblade is leery of canines, for reasons she doesn’t remember.

Name: Twelvecig (PokePokeMaster3689)
Gender: Male
Age: 14
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): Twelvecig has a distinct look that is hard to match without a great memory, getting beaten often, living in the streets, and a crippling addiction to cigarettes. As a byproduct of his addiction, his hair is brown commonly peppered with gray. His face is in need of a shaving, with the beginnings of a scraggly beard and mustache, both similar to his hair, brown and gray mixed together into a very odd appearance. His skin is a sort of tan-ish yellow, although it's unknown if this is due to alcohol or just natural, he still has a bit of normal tan in some places, but the strangest part of his face is the dent on his left cheek, that looks like it was beaten in. He also has many cuts and bruises all over his body. His build is average, thin but with wiry muscle that allows him to run rather far, even when he smokes as much as he does.
Twelvecig doesn't have much of a fashion sense, but whatever he wears, it looks like it's been slept in for weeks without changing. He almost always wears a dusty, stained, torn gray hoodie with splotches of brown red, yellow and green all over, most likely due to food and/or physical activities. Beneath the hoodie, he wears an old white jersey that's been stained so much that, from a distance, it looks green with a few bits of red or purple. It used to have lettering on it, but from constant wear, almost all of it has been ripped away. The only thing that can be seen as a letter is a J on the back. His jeans seem to have suffered from every kind of wear and tear known to man, grass stains, yellow spots(hopefully mustard residue), red spots(most likely blood), and holes on the knees and lower legs, above the ankles. He keeps his cigarettes in the left back pocket on his jeans, a carving knife and whetstone in his left front pocket, a ball of wax in his back right pocket, and a lighter in his right front pocket. For shoes, he wears a single ruined sandal that's been lashed to his foot with rope and duct tape on his left foot and an old muddy rubber boot on his right that's been patched with, like the sandal, duct tape.
Twelvecig isn't the kind of guy you'd want to run into at any time, regardless of where. He is, by appearance, a massive eyesore in places like, say, a restaurant or a store. As a person, though, he isn't quite so bad. He's a bad kid, yes, and he does bad things, but you'd have to learn his reasons to understand. He's not bad by nature, he's bad by nurture. His addiction is something that turns most people away at first glance, mainly due to the fact that, even though he's been smoking for over six years, the nicotine is still stronger than it should be. He sometimes smokes more than 3 packs a day, which should have killed him a long time ago. He's got a dark outlook on life, believing that the world is out to get him, and the demons haven't helped that view. In fact, they've only made it worse. His pessimism is to an extreme some days, sometimes past the point of suicide, something that he would've done before, if he'd had the guts. Now he's stuck here with these people that he doesn't know.
One last thing about his personality, he's weak, corruptible, but he is far from hateful. He wouldn't kill anyone he didn't have to, he wouldn't hurt anyone unless he had a good reason. Even though he lived on the streets, he is far from stupid. He was able to get basic schooling before his life went to hell, and when he lived on the streets he kept up on his reading, stealing novels and textbooks from multiple places.
Interests/Hobbies: Smoking, wood carving, wax sculpting, reading, and sleeping.
Peeves/Dislikes: Not smoking, his demon, the wilderness, and fighting(he normally loses).
Demon:Shapeless, cloud of smoke the color of the plague, black as space. Speaks in numbers and names, lusts and words, greedy thoughts screaming. One mind, many voices, one voice, many minds, enigma. Formless. Shapeless. Words like a snake, with a snake-like tongue. The monstrosity speaks straight into your mind, perversion of nature that invades your privacy. Whispers. Screams. Insanity. Pain. Freedom. Trapped.
Temptation: Spin lies, hurt people, inflict pain.
Miscellaneous: He suffers from smoking side effects often, he is short of breath, but not extremely so.

Reserving for later sheetness

I want to join dis... but I'm not on here frequently so I would probably fall behind so easily...

This is like WINNING: The Roleplay.

I'll be joining. I'm thinking a wannabe cowboy child? Maybe packing an airsoft revolver or a real one that's unloaded just as a prop for bluffing or something similar.

Looks good.

I'll probably join this too, this looks pretty interesting.

Mata you and your clever rps.

Spoiler:

Sheet is done.

Okay, I was gone for the weekend but I am back. Glad to hear this has so much support!

Very nice sheet V, accepted :3

Simply outstanding, added.~

And yeah, I am sure you won't godmod, V. Though your character appears to have done his research on killing people, he lacks some of the physical power to back that knowledge up. It is an interesting combination, fairly balanced, we'll see what happens :3

Want... to... join... but... too little time... FACKING SHCOOL.

Lupus, I'm thirteen and I can assure you, all of his knowledge will come from mine.

As long as it doesn't turn into insta-knockouts or anything like that, I'm good with it. That sentence just made me a bit uneasy. It's all good now though.

Sorry about that, Poke x3

Alright, we'll wait for a few more sheets before we get started.~

I want to JOIN YOU. BUT I'M ALSO BORING AND CANNOT MAKE A SHEET WORTH HALF of my caps lock key. That, in addition to my RPing skills being really rusty, as in, Mars colored, and school starting soon(ARGH)... But still, I SHALL TRY. Hmmm...

PokePokeMaster3689 wrote:

I want to JOIN YOU. BUT I'M ALSO BORING AND CANNOT MAKE A SHEET WORTH HALF of my caps lock key. That, in addition to my RPing skills being really rusty, as in, Mars colored, and school starting soon(ARGH)... But still, I SHALL TRY. Hmmm...

I shall write a sheet. Try, at least...



Name: TwelveCig
Gender: Male
Age: 14
Description (Appearance/Personality/Traits): TwelveCig has a distinct look that is hard to match without a great memory, getting beaten often, living in the streets, and a crippling addiction to cigarettes. As a byproduct of his addiction and lack of showering, his hair is greasy in appearance, brown hair peppered heavily with gray, almost at a shoulder's length. His face is angular, with sunken-in eyes the color of beach sand. He is in need of a shaving, with the beginnings of a scraggly beard and mustache, both similar to his hair, brown and gray mixed together into a very odd appearance. His skin is a sort of tan-ish yellow, although it's unknown if this is due to alcohol or just natural. He still has a bit of normal tan in some places, but the strangest part of his face is the dent on his left cheek, that looks like it was beaten in. He also has many cuts and bruises all over his body. His build is average, thin but with wiry muscle that allows him to run rather far, even when he smokes as much as he does. He's about 6 foot one inch in height, but he slouches at about 5 foot 11.
TwelveCig doesn't have much of a fashion sense, but whatever he wears, it looks like it's been slept in for weeks without changing. He almost always wears a dusty, stained, torn gray hoodie with splotches of brown red, yellow and green all over, most likely due to food and/or physical activities. Beneath the hoodie, he wears an old white jersey that's been stained so much that, from a distance, it looks green with a few bits of red or purple. It used to have lettering on it, but from constant wear, almost all of it has been ripped away. The only thing that can be seen as a letter is a J on the back. His jeans seem to have suffered from every kind of wear and tear known to man, grass stains, yellow spots(hopefully mustard residue), red spots(most likely blood), and holes on the knees and lower legs, above the ankles. He keeps his cigarettes in the left back pocket on his jeans, a carving knife and whetstone in his left front pocket, a ball of wax in his back right pocket, and a lighter in his right front pocket. For shoes, he wears a single ruined sandal that's been lashed to his foot with rope and duct tape on his left foot and an old muddy rubber boot on his right that's been patched with, like the sandal, duct tape.
TwelveCig isn't the kind of guy you'd want to run into at any time, regardless of where. He is, by appearance, a massive eyesore in places like, say, a restaurant or a store. As a person, though, he isn't quite so bad. He's a bad kid, yes, and he does bad things, but you'd have to learn his reasons to understand. He's not bad by nature, he's bad by nurture. His addiction is something that turns most people away at first glance, mainly due to the fact that, even though he's been smoking for over six years, the nicotine is still stronger than it should be. He sometimes smokes more than 3 packs a day, which should have killed him a long time ago. He's got a dark outlook on life, believing that the world is out to get him, and the demons haven't helped that view. In fact, they've only made it worse. His pessimism is to an extreme some days, sometimes past the point of suicide, something that he would've done before, if he'd had the guts. Now he's stuck here with these people that he doesn't know.
One last thing about his personality, he's weak, corruptible, but he is far from hateful. He wouldn't kill anyone he didn't have to, he wouldn't hurt anyone unless he had a good reason. Even though he lived on the streets, he is far from stupid. He was able to get basic schooling before his life went to hell, and when he lived on the streets he kept up on his reading, stealing novels and textbooks from multiple places.
Interests/Hobbies: Smoking, wood carving, wax sculpting, reading, and sleeping.
Peeves/Dislikes: Not smoking, his demon, the wilderness, and fighting(he normally loses).
Demon:Shapeless, cloud of smoke the color of the plague, black as space. Speaks in numbers and names, lusts and words, greedy thoughts screaming. One mind, many voices, one voice, many minds, enigma. Formless. Shapeless. Words like a snake, with a snake-like tongue. The monstrosity speaks straight into your mind, perversion of nature that invades your privacy. Whispers. Screams. Insanity. Pain. Freedom. Trapped.
Temptation: Spin lies, hurt people, inflict pain.
Miscellaneous: He suffers from smoking side effects often, he is short of breath, but not extremely so.



Is gud? Oar nut?

Is VAREE gud! Accepted. :3

Alright, I thiiiiink we have enough to at least start off now, and I don't want to delay too long. Last call for anyone to join - I'll put the IC up this weekend!

YAY~!

Alriiight, we're live, in the Mature section.

A word about starting off - we all wake up in the general vicinity of the Arch, but we're spread out across the hilltop. First post will probably be just you being all groggy, looking around, finding your senses, before we start to notice eachother.

You may post when ready~ :3

Herp derp furst

Okay, found the time to post at last. Any character is welcome to interact with Threeblade.

Nice post

Yus!

After Poke's reply, I'll have Six notice Three, unless Twelve does. Or Three can always walk over to the others.

Or, alternatively, join Nine and Two down the hill. x3

Mata, is it alright that Nicole gave himself a nickname?

Yeeeeeeah. I mean, so long as he started out as ninetoes, I see no reason why he shouldn't be able to give himself a nickname x3