Editor: Crimson Spider Lily

A Lovely Change Of Pace

Despair. What a wonderfully vague word that is. It's supposed to derive only a negative connotation and mean nothing but abject things. Despair, in of itself, is a very abstract concept that still piques most psychologists, philosophers and societies to this day.

Why do people loathe it so much? Why do we strive for something as blind and unpredictable as hope? What drives a person into believing in either one of those ideas? What's the true ulterior motive of each desire? Are they really so polarizing that one should be glorified and the other demonized?

I never really cared to know the answer for myself, personally. For you see, I used to fall victim to both Hope's and Despair's lies and misguidance. Consumed by their false teachings, both were drugs which I couldn't stop taking over and over again. Both ideologies were addictive, appealing to many and once ingested, it's harder to go back to normal without suffering some twisted form of withdrawal or deleterious side effect.

Wow...That sounded so edgy and cliché, I nearly gagged in my mouth. Scratch that note, let's try this again.

Hope was like a shepherd, a devilishly enticing one at that. The belief, and by extension the believers, preached about love, sunshine and rainbows like it was going out of style, like a viral internet trend that lasted for about a month. The birthplace of that beloved word, Hope's Peak, was, in my opinion, an ideological cult. They clung to that particular word as if it were the next best thing since sliced bread. They borderline worshipped the word, similar to how prophets or missionaries preached about some almighty savior in the sky and that if we followed their scriptures we'd be saved or some florid bullshit like that.

Despair, on the other hand, was the latest trend that had people flocking to it like girls at a shoe sale. It was something fresh, tantalizing and something that caught on quickly like a blistering wildfire. It was something that promised people that they would get what they wanted. It took more than it could tote, leaving only sorrow and a cascade of broken hearts lying in its path.

Both sides were weary of each other and considered the other to have overstayed their welcome. One wanted to fill the world with their hippie dippy world peace crap and the other just wanted senseless violence and mayhem, devoid of anything beautiful or purposeful. Two clashing beliefs that were at each other's throats, always at war with the other and always waiting, never stopping, for the other to yield in a ceaseless cycle of death and tragedy.

As an impressionable youth, I used to follow their lies and eat them up like a fat person at an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet. The insatiable sensation that engulfed me and countless others was almost tormenting; I wanted more and more until I couldn't handle the overwhelming pressure being forced down my throat.

The ironic thing is, I used to admire Hope's Peak for wanting me to be apart of their Ultimates program. I used to believe in the lies the school preached and toted around like a shiny badge of honor. I was one of the sheep following the herd and mimicking its practices to the masses. I had a perfectly normal life up until the day she arrived to the academy.

When I had the unpleasant misfortune of meeting her, that all changed. She saw me for who I really was, or so I initially thought at the time. She used to tell me that I had too much potential, that I was wasting it away at a stuffy prep school that held privileged students like me on a high pedestal. Her one talking point was that I had to break the status quo, fight the power and all that rebellious nonsense.

She was the reason that I became the person who I am today, a shell of my former self, seeking redemption from a jaded society who had shunned and demonized me for a very long time.

I believed her lies too, funnily enough. I followed her blindly into battle and became one of her underling subordinates who would lick the ground she walked on. I was the blind sheep who drank too much of the tainted water in the river. She was so persuasive and charismatic, being a fashionista and having millions of adoring fans following in her cold dead footsteps; she pretty much had the entire world underneath her thumb.

A truly despicable and nihilistic character, she desired nothing but despair. As to why she thought that, well who knows? From what I heard, she's long gone and left her humble minions to take the flack for her mess.

Oh, where are my manners, I forgot to introduce myself properly. How rude of a refined gentleman such as I.

My name is Tadashi Jonetsu. I was formerly known as the Ultimate Romance Novelist, or the Thief of Lovers Hearts, according to my fanbase online. You can call me whatever you want, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot it. Maybe I'm better off that way.

TADASHI JONETSU - ULTIMATE ROMANCE NOVELIST

I'm just your average everyday guy, nothing special about me whatsoever. I have very simple tastes and my profession requires a lot of my attention. Writing is one of my favorite things to do and without it, I don't know where I'd be in life if I didn't pursue my dreams and started my own self-published literary career.

You might have heard of me, unless you lived under a rock, because let's be honest, who hasn't heard of moi. My books are bestsellers around the world and it's nearly impossible for you to not have heard at least one of my titles or even watched a movie adaptation of one of my many prolific series.

You might recognize me from one of my famous works, such as 'Missing Juliet', a romance series about a girl who goes missing after school and it's up to her boyfriend of two years to find out where she went and if she was kidnapped or left on her own accord. Or perhaps you've heard of 'Never Your Bride', the perfect cult classic romance for middle-aged women who crave a life of lust and drama to enrich their boring marriages and forget about their spineless husbands who are too preoccupied with work to satisfy their needs.

Regardless, I'm considered a household name amongst my peers, my booktube fanbase, the online book reviewers and to many proficient movie critics who review the movies based off of my works. My books always get rave reviews, nothing below 4 out of 5 stars, each one receiving critical acclaim with each new release and installment in a series. I even beat the Ultimate Writing Prodigy in terms of quality and quantity of books made, I've written more successful titles, garnered such a loyal fanbase, had three successful movie adaptations and even got nominated for a Pulitzer Prize award.

Unfortunately for her, she was revoked of her title due to being a notorious serial killer on the down low, but you didn't hear that from me. I'm not one to spill the tea, as they say, but I do enjoy some juicy gossip from time to time.

Enough about that hot mess, back to me.

Yes, from what you have just read, I was a former Remnant of Despair. A spawn from that accursed group that everyone, the government and the media, hates oh so much. We were considered the second thorn in the Future Foundation's side and the reason why the world went to shit after some teenage girl had a depressing angsty thought. We were society's new scapegoat.

Ever since the Tragedy, or that long ass name that I don't give two flying fucks to care about remembering, the Future Foundation decided it would be best for the Remnants who surrendered, were neutralized, or were captured to be put into their newest and foolproof plan. They created this program for recovering Ultimates who wanted to purge their despairing thoughts, move on with their lives and to re-enter society with a clean blank slate.

Since talents like ours didn't come around as often or are rare to find amongst our demographic, the corporation realized that instead of erasing us from the face of the Earth, they could give us a second chance at life, so to speak. Wash our hands clean of the blood spilt by a deluded ideology caused by one tackily dressed teenager with too much time on her hands.

We were given the opportunity to join the 'Despair Me Not Program', the Future Foundation's ingenious and surefire plan to rid the world of anything despair related. As convoluted and cheesy a title as that, it was my best chance at survival, a new life and a second chance.

I couldn't go back into society without attending this program; not only because if I did then the angry mobs would hunt me down and demand my head on a silver platter, but because I wanted to give hope a second chance. But mostly the former, the main driving force, because why would you want to harm this pretty face?

I really didn't know what to expect from this program as a whole, other than it was supposed to expunge my crimes and get me back into HP's good graces. I honestly didn't care about going back to that godforsaken school. I wanted out of all the madness...to start anew and maybe write more romance books that I enjoyed making and not what the general population wanted me to write.

I wanted to write more than just romance...I wanted to pursue a more adult genre. I wanted to write erotica. Yes, you heard me, erotic romance.

As a romance author, I was always bound by the cliches and tripe that was pure romance. I got sick of it all after the twelfth book. The lovey-dovey overtones, the flowery prose, the gratuitous amounts of detail to unnecessary backgrounds, the forced melodrama and the predictable foreshadowing that plagued the outcomes of each ending, I was fed up. You might think me crude or chauvinistic, but if you've written over 30 plus books as I have, then you'd want to change the channel and find new shows to watch, so to speak.

I've always considered myself as someone open to new things; I liked branching out and exploring new territory and how far I could go as a writer. If I stuck to only writing romance novels, then I wouldn't be able to progress in my career or elevate to new heights. I wanted to do more with my life rather than just write boring, tired, vanilla romance with bland uncharismatic leads who unrealistically have instant chemistry with each other because they made eye contact that one time at a boarding school or at a party.

You might think I'm some kind of perverted freak, but you would be wrong….sort of. Don't get it twisted, I'm not some sicko who'd spy on girls' changing or do anything scandalous like that. I'd much rather fantasize about it, put my feelings onto paper and see if my faithful readers like this new style of art I'm experimenting with.

I knew what guys wanted and what girls loved, the two quintessential things needed in order to have a wide and diverse audience. My loyal readers and fanbase always said that in every review I'd read after I published a new book, that I knew what they wanted and that I was an up-and-coming literary legend in the making. You might think that's very cheeky, egotistical or much to assume, but honestly I just wrote how I felt about love and how to make it more interesting in a sense.

While I do adore the attention and adulation I've received, to me it gets really redundant and boring to hear the same praise over and over again, without so much as a hint of constructive criticism or genuine gripes with my writing as a whole. I partially blame that on my fans for shutting down any form of divisive debate and social commentary, the trolls who call my work overrated garbage that make real critics look bad in the process and overall society's lust for new and sensational content that would briefly satiate their own greedy wishes, until it wears thin and the vicious cycle repeats itself.

I may have my quirky fetishes and my own personal dark desires, but I will never ever put them into practice, nor will I ever let them invade my work. Contrary to what you might think, I take my writing very seriously, so before you get your torches and pitchforks and parade around chanting death curses, I swear on what little honor I have left, that I won't ever do anything like that ever, unless it's for the erotic books that I plan to write in the near future.

I think I've chatted your ear off enough as is, let's actually get on with the real story you all came to read about. This is the story of how a simple leisurely rehabilitation program turned sour and grim faster than you could say a tongue twister.

Let's start with a very curt introduction to this tale, shall we?

It was a Wednesday afternoon, or maybe it was a Thursday, I'd forgotten such a small detail like that; it was similar to an ant passing by on muddy dirt, it wasn't that important. I lounged on a nearby wooden bench near the sidewalk by the roadway, awaiting a bus that seemed like it was never going to show up. I sighed deeply, resting lazily on the bench as I turned and checked the large black duffle bag containing all my belongings. I inspected the contents, noting the extra clothes, writing utensils, extra notebooks, comic books and other essentials inside. I rummaged inside and grabbed a piece of paper crumpled up inside one of the corners next to one of my shirts that discussed my confirmation into this asinine program.

Dear Mr. Jonetsu,

Thank you very much for accepting an application to join the Despair Me Not Program. We know it's not easy coming forward as a former remnant of despair, but we appreciate your sacrifice. As a candidate of this program, you are guaranteed a safe and affordable program that allows you to hone your skills as an Ultimate as well as change your ways. If you wish to cancel at any time, feel free to let us know by contacting this number.

XXX-XXXX-XXXX

We hope you have a wonderful time at the DMN Program, and remember, Hope is always on your side.

Signed,
Suzuko Tsutsumi
Head of the Despair Me Not Program

I sneered at the letter, feeling its condescending tone laughing at me in the face as I gritted my teeth in annoyance. As much as I wanted to rip this note to shreds and send it flying in the wind, this was my confirmation to get into the program, so I needed to keep it in pristine condition. I then shoved the note back into my bag, zipped it tightly and crossed my arms irritatedly.

My intense distaste for this whole program was only amplified by how humid it was. Even though it was the afternoon, I felt the sweltering heat kiss my skin as a few beads of sweat trickled down the sides of my head and I could smell the sweat on my armpits getting damper and more pungent. The sunlight was dimly incandescent and the warmth radiating throughout the empty town I resided in couldn't be any more intense if it tried.

I slicked back my long pastel pink hair and tied it into a flowing voluminous ponytail using a black thin ribbon as I felt my forehead dripping sweat and my hair soaking in the heat like an oversized mop. I unbuttoned the collar of my white black striped red heart-printed dress shirt by a few buttons to where you could see some of my chest and my dark blue jeans felt snug to the touch and slightly chafed in certain areas as I wriggled around trying to get comfortable on the already heated bench. I took the pair of black shades that rested on top of my head and placed them over my bright green eyes, untied the plain black tie around my neck resting it around my shoulders, shuffled my feet around in my dark brown dress shoes, massaging my sore feet from the long walk here and waited a few more minutes for the bus to come, so that I could leave this god forsaken town. As each second passed by, it felt like an eternity as I soaked in a few more rays of sun that my fair white skin almost looked tan, bordering on a spray tan color. I'd much rather get skin cancer than waste another second waiting for a bus to take me to a program that I didn't really give a flying fuck about.

Out of sheer boredom, I looked around the bus stop and noticed a few posters plastered on telephone poles, on the sides of buildings and on a mailbox all reading the same trite nonsense:

"CHANGE OR DESPAIR!" read a poster with change on a white scroll and despair written in black faded letters against a blue background.

"DEATH TO THE REMNANTS!" another poster read with the words emboldened and capitalized to emphasize the town's venomous disgust for remnants, aka people like me.

"HOPE WILL NEVER DIE!" one more poster read with bright white letters printed against a black background with a few white stars scattered about.

I gazed at the posters with an unimpressed glare, feeling even more peeved than I already was. I was frustrated and tired of seeing those cheap propaganda flyers and inspirational posters sprinkled around town, with Hope's Peak even warranting a live TV press conference talking about us and making us out to be the devil and telling the general public that everything was going to be okay.

"Kiss my ass, tryhards," I scoffed at the flyers, turned around and stared at the quiet surroundings as a few cars passed by as I continued waiting for the bus.

Despite the academy and the Future Foundation wanting us to change for the better, I still felt the hypocrisy and lies crawl up my spine and hit me in the back of my head like a bullet train. They were so hostile towards remnants, making us out to be the devil, yet here they are, the harbingers of peace and tolerance, encouraging a whole nation to belittle us former remnants as if we were not even human. This stupid corporation was so adamant to purge their precious world of us that they missed one hiding right under their noses the entire time and did nothing to stop it. Talk about elitist, self-righteous and hypocritical if you ask me, the double standards are so astonishingly apparent, they might as well lock us up for life and throw away the key.

I dozed off for a few minutes, feeling the intense warmth wrap me into a false sense of security as I heard a loud motor running in the distance. I awoke immediately and noticed a black and white bus with the words 'Hope Is Our Only Future' written in bold red letters printed on the side of the bus as I grumpily picked up my duffle bag, stood up and headed inside of the bus feeling the cold A/C brush against my skin.

"Finally, I will never take air conditioning for granted ever again," I sleepily yawned, walking inside and coming face to face with the bus driver.

He was an older man, maybe in his late forties, sitting behind the wheel of the bus as he stared at me with a passive glare. His short black hair was pushed back as he wore a cap over his head. His grey hoodie was musty and crinkled with food stains while he also wore short baggy brown pants and sandals with socks. He smelt absolutely dreadful and I wanted to pinch my nose out of fear it would shrivel up, but I bore with the odor and handed him my bus fare.

"Where ya headed?" he grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Here you go my good man," I handed him a piece of paper with the address of the program written on it.

"Oh, you're one of them remnants…." he finished reading the paper, glancing at me with a tired look and blowing smoke out of his nostrils, "Whatever, I don't have all day kid."

He took the paper and crumpled it up, tossing it in the overflowing bin next to the bus entrance as I headed back to grab a seat. I waded through the thin, messily narrow corridor of the unkempt bus and noticed that it wasn't nearly as full as I'd expected it to be.

I noticed about five people in this twenty seater bus, however the small numbers and rows of empty seats only heightened my anxiety further. As I made my way to find a seat that didn't look like it was torn to shreds or urinated on, I came across some rather unsavory individuals.

I received a few icy cold glares from two middle-aged salarymen, an old lady started knitting her sweater with sharp needles rather furiously as if she were waiting for the right moment to stab me in the face as her pet cat hissed loudly at me, a female middle schooler threw a piece of paper that was covered in wet saliva at my head and some 5 year old boy gave me the middle finger as he stuck his tongue out at me jeeringly.

"Hmph...so much for common decency," I thought, taking a seat in the back row as to avoid any more mockery, "Times sure have changed.."

If anything, this society should be thankful that I'm even attending this ridiculous program in the first place. The irony of my situation is that even though I announced that I was a former remnant who volunteered out of my own volition, I was still antagonized and ridiculed for my decision.

I never understood the mental gymnastics these people loved to play, but at the same time I sort of knew where they were coming from. I mean, I and a bunch of other depressed teenagers decided to go on a mass genocidal killing spree and even went as far as to enslave half of the world's population, so I can see why we're not the most welcome in most cities or even around the world. I just think that people like me should at least get some encouragement for wanting rehabilitation. There are more lingering remnants out there being forced into this program and are far more vicious than I am, yet those same protestors want to demonize me and cast aspersions against my reputation just because I came forward, talk about generalization.

I sat near the left back of the bus, sitting close to the window seat as I rested my bag on the other seat and waited for the driver to start the bus. As the bus continued its route, I stared outside the streaky clear window, leaning my head against its stained frame and watched as the dull town I used to reside in, fade away as we left townlines.

As the sun started to set on that dismally dreadful town of ingrates, I started pondering my life choices and how it lead me to this moment in time. What exactly was so different about them versus remnants like me? We all have our own secrets to keep under wraps, but as soon as we confide in others, we're instantly criminalized and branded as dishonest cretins just for expressing how we feel.

I sleepily yawned, placing my black shades over my head and watched the fading sunset slowly dissipate. The rich warm pinks and oranges started to grow dimmer as each second passed by and my impending sleepiness started to grow as the terrible rock music pervaded throughout the cramped bus. I decided that the long road ahead was enough to warrant a quick nap, as I closed my eyes and felt my body drifting into dreamland.

There was a lesson I learned a very long time ago, even before all of this tragedy bullshit and before I started my writing career. Nobody wants to hear the ugly truth, no matter what, in order to protect their precious little feelings and stay secluded in their echo chambers of circlejerking.

In a society that totes Hope as its eternal savior and preaches about love and tolerance, it sure did know when to switch gears and demonize an entire group of people willing to redeem themselves for the better and to appease society's selfish needs. And they call us the monsters, talk about pathetic.

But like they always say, we all have skeletons in our closet. But do we want them to be aired out like dirty laundry and laid down bare for the entire world to see? Is it even all worth it in the end to suffer? Do people like me really need to change or is society the one who needs to come to terms with their sordid past?

In time we shall see. Time is the Ultimate Truth of them all and nobody can escape their past….no one...

A/N: Hello hello hello, how are you all doing and it's so good to see you all again. Now I know what you're thinking.

A fourth SYOC, what are you doing with your life, you reclusive freak! You should be getting an education, working to get a job, finding a girlfriend or starting a family…..ok calm down XD. Yes yes, I know what the hell am I doing. You might be also thinking, Persona, why on earth are you making more SYOC when you already have your hands full with three right now?

Well here's the thing, this story isn't going to be updated for a very long time. This one will start updating regularly maybe around late next year, since I will most likely have finished at least one of my first three stories by that point, hopefully. I'm not going to start writing chapters for it right away, considering I have so much on my plate as it is. So consider this story in submission limbo for now, this is to give me time to write for the other stories and get them out as fast as possible.

Also don't spam and ask me if the story is getting updates soon, this will be a long process and I don't want to overflood my work schedule more than I already have XD. I want to take my time with my stories and I make these because I enjoy writing and I have fun making them, so patience is key X3.

As you can tell, I am making a saga and this will be the fourth entry in the series. Hopefully I can actually commit to making all 8 stories when the time comes, but for now, here's the fourth SYOC and I hope you guys enjoyed reading the little prologue and getting to meet our MC, Tadashi, charming isn't he?

Funny story you guys, my original draft for his character had some of my friends really heated and they had some choice words for him...for lack of a better term. So I decided to change things around and tone down his personality in some aspects. I was going for a character that was more unlikable, but I didn't expect him to literally be the devil incarnate XD. So yeah that was interesting, I hope this final version is good enough.

Other than that, I hope you all liked this short little chapter introducing the story and our MC. What are your thoughts on the premise? Is the setting of the story okay? What do you think of Tadashi so far? I know he doesn't stand out much now, but in time...in time my dear readers.

For now if you're interested in submitting an OC, make sure they were a former remnant of despair and they must have a good reason for wanting rehabilitation. I know it's a very unusual and kind of unique concept, but I just wanted to try my hand at giving this kind of storytelling a chance.

Volunteering isn't always what these former remnants chose, so I don't mind OC who were either coerced, forced into this program, are people who are going undercover or have some ulterior motives of their own in terms of this program and its inner workings. You know the whole shebang, I encourage variety and I love reading about the unique talents you guys present to me.

If you have any OC suggestions you would like to talk with me about, PM me, I'm happy to help and it makes my day to know you guys are just as passionate for my story as I am. Also if anyone wants to know, I have a set of rules in regards to repeat talents and their usage in my stories.

Since my stories are in the same universe as the main games, I don't expect there to be two of the same talent or person who bears a talent that is either in the canon series or was in one of my previous stories. However that being said, if you're able to take a fresh new spin on an old talent or come up with a variation of one, feel free to ask me and I don't mind helping you guys out with your OC creation.

That being said, you don't need to read my first story to understand this one and the same rule applies to all of my stories, they might be in the same canon, but they rarely interact with the other, so you can read this without worrying about spoilers.

Here is a list of talents that have been used in my previous stories, some of you may notice that some talents are currently ?. That means I haven't revealed them yet and are making those chapters and are currently in the process of revealing them. Also, this same list is on my profile as well so feel free to check that out X3.

Here's the list guys:

Salty Waves and Bloody Coral Talents: Zoologist, Sniper, Trader, Gardener, Roleplayer, Judge, Ice Sculptor, Sailor, Knitter, Oneirologist, Communicator, Hair stylist, Lifeguard, Pageant Queen, Ethical Hacker, Auctioneer, Fashion Designer, Gambler, Pub Manager, Doll Maker, Surfer, ? (Kazumi's Talent)

Laughable Rejects Talents: Lucky Student, Unlucky Student, Tragic Knight, Soothsayer, Garbologist, Tea Brewer, EMT, Vigilante, Jpop Idol, Defense Attorney, Risk Analyst, Charmer, Survivalist, Songwriter, Arsonist, eSports Pro, Clown, Research Scientist, Prosecutor, Digital Artist, Runner, ? (Banri's Talent)

So yeah, now that that's out of the way, here are the conditions to keep in mind when making an OC for this story. This form is also on my profile, so you can copy and paste it from there as well, you're welcome X3.

RULES FOR OC'S FOR REMNANTS OF MY HEART!

1) No Mary Sues or Gary Stus, nobody is flawless and having perfect characters really doesn't resonate well with people, I'm looking at you Sonia and Chiaki, even though I like them both.

2) No canon talents and be original with them, and yes V3 talents don't count either. Something fresh would be more welcome. (Talents from Hope's Lie & Salty Waves and Bloody Coral & Laughable Rejects will not be accepted either). I want to test you guys to see if your minds are as creative as I think they are.*
*However I will allow a variation of a talent for example Detective, either a Police Officer or Private Investigator.

3) This story's theme is my own original take called Redemption Vs Revenge. (Not sure how it'll work bear with me guys, who knows).

4) Anything in parenthesis you can delete to make the submission form easier to understand and for me to read also make sure to keep each OC PM in a single thread as to avoid cluttering my Inbox, thank you.

5) You can send in a max of three characters, anymore would be too much and frustrating to keep track of.

6) Due to my current situation and state of mind, these chapters will be sporadic at worst, so don't expect a new chapter every minute or so. I prioritize quality rather than quantity, I hope you understand.

7) No RECYCLED OC, this is a must since my stories are all in the same universe. It doesn't make sense to have the same talents in different stories, unless you can give me a good reason for the talent, or if the OC was rejected or the story was discontinued. If the story is discontinued, you need to get permission from the author first before sending in the OC.

8) PM's only, review OC's would be rejected as everyone can see them and it ruins the fun for everyone involved.

9) Please space out each requirement on the form, I wear glasses and having to read congested words on a form is one of my pet peeves.

10) I won't write certain M rated themes such as anything related to sexual assault/violence, child p*rn, rape or racism or anything of that nature within the story. I know this is Danganronpa and anything goes, but personally I don't feel comfortable writing material like that. However if it incorporates into the character's backstory then I will give some leeway.

11) Please Title the Form: Remnants of My Heart SYOC - "Insert Character Name"

Finally these are the standards for character submissions:

Name (First name then last name):

Nickname (optional):

Age (13-30):

Birthday:

Height:

Weight:

Gender (the farthest I will go is non-binary, but that's it):

Sexuality (I'm open to LGBTQ characters so go wild):

Nationality:

Race:

Ultimate Talent:

How did they become a Remnant of Despair?:

What did they do as one?:

Why did they choose rehabilitation? Voluntarily, Forced to, Coerced? (Explain if you have something else in mind):

Personality (be detailed, I love paragraphs):

Appearance (make them detailed but not like five paragraphs, general physical traits like hair, skin, build etc.):

Special Features (Tattoos, scars, piercings stuff like that):

Mannerisms/Quirks:

Strengths (Both Mental and Physical):

Weaknesses (Same with Strengths):

Mental Health Issues (optional):

Clothing (you can have them be shirtless but not fully nude):

Swimwear:

Sleepwear:

Formal attire:

Accessories:

Backstory (Not everyone is going to have a happy childhood, but don't go too overboard with the darkness okay, and make it long I love paragraphs):

Romance, if at all? (I love romance but will try my best if I get good matches):

Likes (five please):

Dislikes (same as likes):

Hobbies:

Free Time Event Ideas:

Victim/Killer/Survivor (no guarantees, this is just so you can convince me to kill them or keep them ticking and alive):

Justification for each one:

Mastermind (do you want them to be a mastermind?):

Motive/s for murder:

Execution style (give me what Monokuma would do for their execution, bonus points if it relates to their talent):

Reaction to a body (innocent):

Reaction to a body (guilty):

Investigation role (I don't want twenty kyoko's or chiaki's, diversify who does what)

Innocent:

Guilty:

Trial Roles (are they talkative, quiet, commentators, jokers, aggressors or sheep)

Innocent:

Guilty:

Reaction to classmate executed:

Reaction to being accused (Innocent):

Reaction to being accused (Guilty):

Reaction to being caught:

How would they lie (are they good at it, quiver and break down or don't care if they deceived someone):

How would they express the truth:

Darkest Fear:

Darkest Secret:

People they'd befriend:

People they'd despise:

People they'd crush on:

Important people in their life:

How would they react to being in a Killing Game?:

How would they react to the mastermind bringing up their past as a Despair?:

Dialogue (to help me understand your character better):

Japanese Voice Actor (optional):

English Voice Actor (optional):

Other (basically anything else you'd want me to add):

I hope you all liked this intro and if you have any questions I will be happy to answer them for you. I'll try my best to answer them and give you feedback and so forth. Also if you notice another name on the submission list, she is my second OC in this story, so if you wanted to make a matchmaker, I apologize in advance XD. I also have the liberty of making a larger cast as you all know me X3. The form is on my profile, so feel free to copy and paste it to your leisure.

Have a lovely day or night my fellow authors or readers, bye bye!

SUBMISSIONS

37x Male
33x Female
1x Non-Binary

X1 Party Princess
X1 M.C.
X1 Courier
X1 Sheriff
x1 Crusader
x1 Artist
X1 Ripperologist
x1 Virtuoso
x1 Snuggler
x1 Hide And Seeker
x1 Puppeteer
x1 Servant
x1 Cult Leader
x1 Lighthouse Keeper
x1 Game Show Host
x1 Referee
x1 Deception Expert
X1 True Crime Novelist
x1 Graffiti Artist
x1 Historian
x1 Tailor
x1 Dark Poet
x1 Perfumer
X1 Lacrosse Player
x1 Demonologist
x1 Hotel Manager
x1 Event Planner
x2 Toymaker
x1 Explosives Technician
x1 Confectioner
x1 Children's Card Game Player
x1 Surfer
x1 Plastic Surgeon
x1 Time Traveler
x1 Analyst
x1 Kenpo
x1 Jetsetter
x1 Swordsman
x1 Weather Girl
x1 Idol
x1 K-Drama Actress
x1 Talent Agent
x1 Librarian
x1 Kalimba Player
x1 Capoeirista
x1 Stop Motion Animator
x1 Philanthropist
x1 Detective
x1 Train Bomber
x1 Paranormal Investigator
x1 Birdkeeper
x1 Playwright
x1 Special Effects Makeup Artist
x1 Game Designer
x1 Mask Maker
x1 Priest
x1 Mother
x1 Sociologist
x1 Bodyguard
x1 Lover
x1 Gravedigger
x1 Snake Charmer
X1 Insomniac
x1 Field Marshal
x1 Muckracker
x1 Ratcatcher
x1 Actor
x1 Resistance Leader
x1 Professional Mourner
x1 Thief

ROMH ROSTER (Not finalized)

Males:

Tadashi Jonetsu - Ultimate Romance Novelist (Me)

Ezra Joseph Harvey - Ultimate Lighthouse Keeper (TheRoseShadow21)

Naiki Yagami - Ultimate Referee (RioA)

Yuya Yuki - Ultimate Children's Card Game Player (Heroi Oscura)

Mitsuhiro Toshikei - Ultimate Playwright (Shyjoker)

Kasasagi Nikushimi - Ultimate Birdkeeper (PoisonBanana)

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Females:

Ayaka Yakusoku - Ultimate Matchmaker (Me)

Chikara Kuronaga - Ultimate Cult Leader (Sharkeye)

Eri Morita - Ultimate True Crime Novelist (Ziggymia123)

Viktoria Zeigler - Ultimate Analyst (tobi-is-an-artist-too)

Renata Salatka - Ultimate Special Effects Makeup Artist (Crimson Spider Lily)

Kidiru Benihime - Ultimate Mother (ChaoticMercy)

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DEADLINE LATE SUMMER 2020! (WOW A LONG DEADLINE XD)