Okay, this is quite simple. It's like a game. There are limited rules to this, and this game is basically used to increase creativity, and writing skill. Also anything that follows. Basically all you do, is write a bit, then the next person could continue with that, or have his own scene at the same location, or another location. If you do not know how the city of Tokyo is, just make it up. It's all about being creative.
Rules:
1: No Godmodding (Taking Control of Other's Characters) (Unless Permission is granted)
2: No Superpowers (Anything that is logically possible could be allowed)
3: Nothing that makes this TOO Supernatural.
4: Must Review the post of the person above you. (Grammar, Storyline, Other, or All) (If you cannot, try)
5: Cannot Double post. (Post twice, one after another) (This post is does not count as a post)
6: OOC: at top if you want to go off topic.
7: BIT: before your story if you go OOC. (To Prevent Confusion)
8: You are NOT required to be a High School Student.
9: You are NOT required to go to the same High School.
10: Questions about the game must be PMed.
11: First draft only (Do not review your work to find errors) (This will help in the future) (Not following this rule will only hinder your progress)
12: Must Pay attention to the other's review.
13: More rules may be added.
BIC:
The morning sun slowly rises in the horizon, sending rays of heat just to be enhanced by the glass of my window. The annoying heat only caused me to turn into the shadow on my bed to cool myself once more. Just as I was about to doze off once more, the beeping of my alarm clock began to buzz in my ears. Quickly twisting my body, my right hand hits the off button on the alarm clock.
“Argh...”
I moan as I try to force my eyes open. Everything seemed blurry. Lifting my body off the bed, my hands begin to rub against my eyes. I don't feel like getting up. Looking at the alarm clock on my nightstand, I try to make out the numbers on the clock. Six... Six thirty-one? Seems about right. Dragging myself off the bed, I stare around my pig-styled room. Shirts and pants all over the floor, my underwear on the disconnected lamp, and the smell of rotten food stenches the room.
In front of the door to the bathroom, my hand begins to scratch my rugged chin. Sighing, I open the door, into the darken room. Leaving the carpeted room and entering the cold tiled room only sent shivers up my spine. The bathroom was a typical western type bathroom. Glass mirror on the left side of the room, two carpets on the tiled floor, a toilet in between the sink and the shower. A small room. Opening the shower curtains, I turn the shower knob halfway, for the hot water, and the other, for cold water. Shaking the water off my hands, I walk back into my room.
Going for the other door in my room, I see a tiny living room. No furniture, and a kitchen. Time to prepare food. Going into the fridge, I grab two eggs, crack it open, and drop it onto the pan already on the stove. I usually leave it there, so I don't need to grab it later. I didn't feel like adding anything like nonstick spray nor butter to grease the pan. Opening a drawer to the side, I grab a fork. I turn the stove to high, and watch as the eggs to heat up. The fork begins to mix around the eggs, for I craved scrabbled eggs, and just repeat.
*7:30 AM*
In front of Kamata High School, I just wait. I watch the student go in and out. Today is the first day of school. I so happen to be a transfer student, from America, living alone. I began to contemplate whether I should go to school or not.
“What am I going to do.”
I said in English. I had yet to accustom myself to speaking Japanese.
