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The Curious Case of Diligence University

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Personal Log [1R]
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    • [X]Go with this.
    -[X] You need protection too. Can't have it go drowning the creator or something.
    [X]Try and lead him away from the guard's office

    .

    "No, no, that's... fine. The siren is fine." You've got a lot of potential ideas for how it's going to be dangerous. But dangerous is great! You like dangerous. So long as it's not targeted at you, dangerous is great. "But hey, maybe we could... I don't know, think of some protections first? Like, you know, so it won't drown the creator or something."

    "Well, if we're working with pheromones, we just have to make ourselves immune to them. There has to be some sort of active chemical in our brains that numbs or prevents a positive response to that particular compound. Simple." As if it's simple to just design something that blocks the production of dopamine in the brain. Michel hums to himself, thinking. "Perhaps it could work similarly to those epi-pens widely used by the general public?"

    You get the feeling he meant to say "used by the commoners" or something. Though that's probably just you.

    "So we'd have to be aware that the siren is using the spellsinging or whatever we call it." That seems a little inconvenient. But you could probably do something similar. Like designing something to sense the presence of the pheromone compound and having some sort of auto-injector? Though that seems way more technological than biological. In other words, not really your thing. You'll probably have to ask Althorn for help again.
    You want to tell Michel this plan. But something inside you says "no". It's probably best he doesn't know your countermeasures.
    Althorn! Right! You're supposed to be distracting Michel so he can hack the guards' files! To be honest, you almost forgot.

    "Oh, I think I have one of those!" You don't. You don't have an epi-pen. But you can lie! "You think we should check out the mechanism for it or something? I don't really know how they're structured, so we're going to have to figure out how to make the container for our compound first."

    "Why can't we just clear out an existing epi-pen?"

    You shoot Michel a glare. "It's called cross-contamination, Mr. Michel. You do know what that is, right?"

    You're not even sure how anti-histamines would react to whatever compound you put together. No, best to start fresh.

    "Ah. Right." Michel smiles softly, in a way that makes you seriously doubt he'd just forgotten. "Perhaps we should study the structuring. These are going to be injected into us, after all."

    "Yeah, we should." You sigh, admittedly more than a little disappointed in your erstwhile... mentor? Does he count as your mentor now? Your partner? Not partner in crime, as of the moment that's literally Althorn, but work partner? You'll go with colleague. Either way, your colleague should know better. "Come on, let's go to my room! I think it's somewhere in the drawers. Oh, and you can meet Wriggles properly! It got all beat-up when it grabbed onto Annie's wings, but it's healing really quickly! It didn't mutate out the healing factor, which is great."

    "Your tentacle mutates independently of your experiments?"

    "Yeah! I think it's the lack of genetic backups. Its genes mutate really often. A few weeks ago, it was bright purple. Now it's this really nice green!" You're happy to ramble about your tentacle for as long as it takes to get back to your room. Making sure your voice is loud enough that Althorn can hear it as you walk away, you lead Michel out of the crime scene.

    What will you do when you get him to your room?

    .

    [ ]Keep planning for the siren.
    . . [ ]What are you going to plan for, specifically?

    [ ]Ask him about Lucian.

    [ ]Ask him about the Science Club.
    . . [ ]What questions?

    [ ]Write-in.
     
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    • [X]Keep planning for the siren.
    -[X] Needed expertise, materials, how intelligent it should be, how physically capable
     
    Eh, whynotboth.jpg

    [X] Introduce and brag about Wriggles.
    [X]Keep planning for the siren.
    -[X] Needed expertise, materials, how intelligent it should be, how physically capable

    Maybe we could try and reason out what he needs the siren for if we pay attention to the required specs.
     
    whynotboth.jpeg is pretty convincing...

    [X] Introduce and brag about Wriggles.
    [X]Keep planning for the siren.
    -[X] Needed expertise, materials, how intelligent it should be, how physically capable

    .

    Well, the answer's pretty obvious. Brag and plan. It makes for a good and proper distraction, getting people invested in your scientific exploits, and it also has the added bonus of... well, getting them invested in your scientific exploits! You don't even struggle for praise when it comes to your most recent and cutest creation, and Michel seems pretty drawn in soon enough, your enthusiasm infectious and not at all misplaced. You catch a few people's attention, the odd pair walking through the halls, but they're out past curfew too and get out of your way quickly enough when your club president gives them a Look.

    Cowards. You'd at least glare back.

    But you can't exactly fault them for getting the hell out of dodge. That is, after all, exactly what you're doing.

    "And I'm really interested in how Wriggles seems to interact with water," you're saying about the time you get to your dorm room. "It's really cool, 'cause I didn't develop it to need water, but it seems to get healthier when it's in fresh water! Oh, speaking of, should we have the siren be fresh-water or salt-water?"

    "Salt-water, probably, since it's far more abundant. Though we will have to install filters." Michel opens the door for you graciously, like a servant welcoming a princess. It's weird, you think. Almost too fancy. You don't think you like being treated like a princess. "Anyway, as you were saying- you believe you've developed a rudimentary form of sentience in your tentacle?"

    "Not even rudimentary!" you say excitedly, turning on the light in your dorm. "Childlike, maybe! Not infantile, but childlike!"

    "Interesting. I've never managed to do that with anything I created."

    "It might be the fact I made it from a squid," you note. "Those have almost human-like intelligence! Which makes it kind of freaky that we eat them. Maybe we should sacrifice fat humans to our cephalopod overlords to make up for it?"

    "Why fat humans?" is all that Michel can think to say. "Just... why?"

    "More meat," you say easily. "We've got a lot to make up for in mass alone. Plus, fat people are less likely to be homeless orphans starving on the street or something, so it works morally, too!"

    "... You know, at times like this, I really do regret joining the Science Club."

    "Eh?! Why?!" But he's the club president! Shouldn't he be delighted to be part of something so great?

    "... It's nothing. I just keep forgetting that not everyone in the club is... entirely right in the head. Maybe it's the chemical fumes." Michel sighs, turning to your lonely bed, and stops when he sees Wriggles unmoving on it. "Is that Wriggles, then?"

    "Yeah! It's asleep right now, so let's be a little quieter." You ignore the nagging voice in your head that says you were being louder than him. "Anyways, what sentience the siren has pretty much entirely depends on what we base it off of. It'd be pretty cool to make it squid-based, but that leaves the problem of the constant mutations I haven't fixed, so something a little less dangerous. Dolphins, maybe? Definitely something that lives closer to sun."

    "Any variety of tropical fish will do. Personally, I prefer angelfish." Your club president smiles, politely lowering his voice. "It's not going to be too intelligent, but that should be alright. It'd rely more on animalistic instinct, then."

    Why does he want it to work on instinct alone? You know dolphins don't have the mutation problem, and they're pretty smart. Maybe he's planning something with that, too?

    Either way, it's not like you can confront him here. So you make plane to include some dolphin DNA or something in developing the brain and keep your ideas to yourself.

    "Angelfish, then. And it'd probably have to be pretty strong to survive constantly under water's added pressure, so we'll work with that, too." An animalistic, physically powerful being seems right up his alley. So you'll make it lean a little more towards that. Make it seem like his perfect crime and tweak the finer details to add some... unpredictable variables. You like the idea of working on that. "Where do we get the materials, though?"

    "I can handle those." Michel smiles softly. "Now, is there anything else you wanted to discuss? Like, perhaps..."

    You swear you see a sharp glint in his eyes.

    "... why you were at the guard's office?"

    .

    [ ]Write-in.
     
    [X] "I was looking for someone. Oh well, I'll check in the morning."

    He should be done and buggered off by now
     
    Personal Log [1S]
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    • [X] "I was peeking at Lucian assembling a giant robot. What's up with that?"

    .

    ... what the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

    You bury the panic in a bright smile. Inwardly, you're screaming, scrambling for an answer. You know what a lie looks like. You know what people do when they lie. So you face Michel head-on, you don't dare blink, and you lie to his face.

    "I was peeking at Lucian assembling a giant robot. What's up with that?"

    All at once, the colour drains from Michel's face. The club president seems to be trying to keep his composure, but one look and you can already see the difference in his expressions. "Lucian? Why would they- What do they need with a robot, of all things?"

    "I don't know," you insist. "That's why I was watching them. It looked like a giant mecha!"

    "A mecha?" he replies. "That- that sounds all too much like Lucian. But building it at this time of night? In secret? What could they be planning?"

    "I don't know, but it seems pretty weird." You shrug, silently praying for him to just leave already. "It's a little creepy, building a machine all alone."

    "Is that so?" Something cold glints in Michel's eyes, something hard and determined, and all of a sudden you really do not want to be Lucian. Not one bit. "Well. They didn't tell me about this little project. I wonder what it's for."

    ... yeah, you really don't want Lucian in trouble for whatever this is.

    "Maybe they were making a surprise for you!" you say excitedly, shoving down the discomfort already threatening to show. "It looked like something they could display in the Science Club. Maybe it's something cool like that!"

    "Doesn't that just make it worse, though?" The smile curving across the club president's face makes you want to shiver. "They should have told me. What if I didn't like it? They'd have to break it down, and wouldn't that be a shame?"

    ... what?

    You stare up at the student in front of you, at the soft slant of his smile and the callousness underneath. "You'd want them to break it? Why?"

    "Well, because I didn't like it, of course." You feel bile start to rise in your throat, just a little. What if he didn't like the siren? Or Wriggles? Or the Stymphalian birds? Would he just have you- have you destroy them? "And I am the club president. If it's not in my best interests, then certainly the club wouldn't benefit from it."

    You feel the smile on your face lock into place. And your vision's going dark around the edges.

    "Now, Mr. Hallow," you say lowly, "what if the club's best interests weren't yours?"

    "Aren't they?" he asks.

    You just grin wider. And the world blinks out around you.

    .

    [ ]Wake up.
     
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    • Personal Log [1T]
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    • [X]Wake up.

    .

    You wake up, the world blinking into place around you, and think, shit, not again.

    You hate doing this. Hate it, hate it, hate it! You shoot up in your bed, sending Wriggles flying off it at the sudden sharp movement. "Sorry," you apologize, not feeling all too apologetic at all. It's a little too buried in pure fucking irritation right now.

    "God damn it!" You punch the wall, gritting your teeth and ignoring how it makes your knuckles hurt. "God fucking damn it! Stupid blackouts, stupid Hallow, stupid me, stupid everything!"

    You blacked out. Again. What time is it? A quick glance at your alarm clock- glow-in-the-dark, which is something you're very thankful for- shows that it's a grand total of one in the morning. Fuck. Fucking damn it. You were out for hours. What the hell did you do?!

    You check your phone. No suspicious calls or texts. Your wifi's off, so no searching for anything. And it's way too late for you to check on anything now, not at one in the morning when every sane person on the campus is asleep. So you have no information.

    Again, stupid blackouts, stupid Hallow, stupid you, and stupid everything.

    Hallow. Right. You pause, the rage dimming to more of a persistent annoyance. What happened to Michel? Because he was here when you passed out, you know that, you know that. You look around, taking in what you can of the dark room in the faint clock light. Nothing seems out of place at all. Which is just as frustrating as the lack of information on your phone. Absolutely infuriating.

    You huff, collapsing back onto the bed roughly. Wriggles whines- whines? When the hell did it get the vocal cords, again?- and hops up beside you, snuggling against you in a swift move that's oddly comforting. You stroke its tip idly, letting the tension drain out of you.

    This again. You hate the blackouts.

    Ever since you joined this school, you've had the blackouts. Whenever you get too angry, whenever something feels undoubtedly, unflinchingly wrong... you've blacked out. You don't know when it began, you don't know why, but every single time things seem to go too far...

    You turn, burying your face in your pillow. You had a great day yesterday. Really! So why, why did you have to deal with it then? Couldn't you have had the blackout today? The day after? The day before? Any time at all, really, so long as you didn't have to deal with it on what should have been the best days of your school career!

    But no. You can't really say that. Because from what you could remember, your rage was entirely justified.

    Lucian's robot. You shudder to think that it would be destroyed so quickly. They looked like they were working really hard on it, too. You wonder what you did while you blacked out. Did you convince Michel to let them be? Did you run away, help Lucian hide everything and leave Michel empty-handed? What did you do?

    You wish you had an answer. But that would just defeat the purpose of these goddamn blackouts being the worst fucking thing in existence, wouldn't it?

    Okay. Not the worst thing in existence. But come on, saying that something's not the worst thing in existence is like saying something's the tallest dwarf. It's like introducing someone as "not a racist". It sets the bar so low that the bar is lying on the ground.

    You do want t know what happened, though.

    .

    [ ]Check around the school to see if anything happened.
    . . [ ]Check the clinic.
    . . [ ]Check the Science Club area.
    . . [ ]Check the guards' office.
    . . [ ]Check Althorn's room.
    . . [ ]Write-in.

    [ ]Stay in bed. You'll check tomorrow.

    [ ]Write-in.
     
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    • Personal Log [1U]
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    • [X]Check around the school to see if anything happened.
    -[X]Check the guards' office.

    .

    ... You know what? On second thought, nothing's stopping you.

    You hop off of your bed, petting Wriggles in a goodbye before you leave. Your tentacle doesn't seem to mind, curling up where your head once was and stilling. You rummage around on your bedside table and find a flashlight keychain, one you're pretty sure still has some battery. Okay. If it's too dark to see outside, you can use this.

    You listen for anyone being outside, just in case, before stepping into the hallway.

    It isn't too dark to see, thankfully, though you keep the keychain attached to a small rip in your pyjama shirt just in case. The whole hall is barely lit up by the moonlight outside, enough to give you a faint outline of everything. Despite how serious the situation is, you can't deny that a part of you feels like a spy right now. It's probably also that part that's humming spy music in your head, though that may just be you.

    No, not spy music. Not really. It's more the kind of music that plays when someone's walking down a dark hallway to check on their creepy, probably illegal science experiments.

    Ah! That works better. You'll be a scientist, checking on the probably illegal actions of a young girl- your subject. It's like fireworks are going off in your head. It makes the trek down a hall you know well go by a lot faster.

    Plus, well... it helps calm you down a little. You don't exactly like thinking of all the time you end up losing.

    Alright. You're a scientist. So what are you doing here? Objective: obtain a log of what... subject? Obtain a log of what subject 0101- your birthdate, ha- codename SOPHIA, was doing in the period of time she was briefly offline. Commence operation!

    You sneak down the halls quietly, keeping an eye out for any guards doing a patrol or students out doing gross things after curfew. You're a little tempted to check the Science Club room, especially since you sort of sent Michel there as a distraction, but you can't risk wasting that time. The guard's office is the most logical area, especially since you can just track your movement on the cameras.

    You have to be logical here, after all.

    You swear you see Althorn pass in another hall, disappearing to God-knows-where, but you blink and he's gone, leaving only the afterimage of his figure in your memory. You also swear you see time travel girl, who doesn't disappear in the blink of an eye.

    She turns to you, meeting your eyes, and very deliberately places a finger to her lips. Quiet.

    You frown, but nod anyway, letting her disappear to wherever she was going. You're out here for not-so-innocent purposes, after all. Spying on yourself isn't exactly something every goody-two-shoes student does. Whatever she's doing here, you can probably let it slip.

    You arrive at the office quickly, without any other close calls. The school is weirdly empty tonight. You expected to come across a guard going on their rounds, at least. Still, you're not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You push the door open fearlessly.

    ... only to be met with a guard turning to you and a deadpan, tired stare.

    "... Well." There's a faint accent to the guard's voice- Japanese, maybe, which at least makes him look a little less llike a delinquent who grew up and threw on a uniform. Seriously, he's even got a leather jacket over the ensemble. "What's a child doing out here in the middle of the night?"

    "... Hi."

    .

    [ ]Tell the truth about why you're here.

    [ ]Lie.
    . . [ ]What's the lie?

    [ ]Be polite and request to see the tapes anyway.

    [ ]Try to knock him out.
    . . [ ]With WHAT?!

    [ ]Write-in.
     
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    • [X]Be polite and request to see the tapes anyway.
    -[X] You think you dropped something but can't remember where.
     
    Personal Log [1V]
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    • Hey, all! Sorry for being absent for so long! We had to go somewhere on Valentine's day and I just got home!

    Nevill said:
    Is it the same guard that is supposed to be fired tomorrow?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Yes. Though... well, our actions have diverted it well enough. Now, if Michel hadn't been distracted...

    [X]Be polite and request to see the tapes anyway.
    -[X] You think you dropped something but can't remember where.

    .

    "Sorry for interrupting, sir! Could I see some of the tapes, please?" you ask quickly, before your nerve can fail you and the guard gets too suspicious. "I kind of lost one of my..."

    Shit. What did you lose?

    "Um!" You bury your face in your hands like you're thinking of something embarrassing. Which is great, really- that narrows what you're looking for down to something embarrassing. That cuts out a lot of stuff. "I..."

    "I'll wait," he says, which sounds condescending right now but you're pretty sure actually means he'll wait.

    "Thank you!" you say relievedly. Great! A few more seconds. What could you have lost that's important enough to go to the guard's office for and embarrassing enough that you can't outright say it yet?

    ... You have an idea.

    "I... might have lost some underwear. Maybe." You look away, fidgeting slightly and hoping he buys your act. Underwear's a sensible enough thing to lose, right? "Can I please look for it? I searched the hall in front of my room, but it's not there, and- well, if someone finds it, who knows what they're going to do with it! Annnnnd it's the stupid kid kind, with the polka dots and ribbons and stuff, and it'd be really embarrassing even if someone returned it! So can I please look at the tapes!"

    "... Oh."

    You look up, and you find that the guard looks absolutely mortified. "Okay!" he gets out, turning back to his computer and opening a window of that application you saw Althorn messing with. Nothing looks too out of the ordinary on it, which you suppose means that your partner in crime did his job. "Alright. Do you know about when you lost your... clothes?"

    "Um, yeah-"

    "Do you know what room you were in then?"

    "Yeah, I-"

    "Then I'll let you look and see if you dropped anything. Sorry there's no sound. Just type in the timestamp and the room number. There's a map there with every number." He gestures towards a school map, with little numbers scribbled onto each room in spidery handwriting. "I'll... look away. Good luck finding the thing."

    "Thank you!" Keeping up the relieved act, you scramble towards the computer, sliding into the politely vacated swivel chair. Score one for politeness! And also embarrassing lies! Combine both and you get the ultimate weapon!

    You're not actually sure what that says about your way of dealing with problems. But it says something.

    You type down the time you blanked out and the number of your dorm hall, watching carefully. You're not sure what exactly you'll find. But you have to be fast.

    Michel's walking out of the room, nice and unharmed and, really, way too cheerfully for someone who suggested just destroying someone's hard work on a robot. You're closing the door after him. So far, so good.

    ... Wait.

    You watch in confusion and growing horror as you- your body?- as your body drops a tiny, insect-like creature on the ground and shuts the door. The insect turns around for a few seconds, confused and unaware, until it suddenly makes a beeline for Michel and bites him on the slightly exposed ankle. The camera's too far to see it clearly, but you swear dark blue thing drains of colour until it's a transparent, dead corpse on the floor.

    You feel a little sick.

    What's worse is what happens next. Michel swoons, stumbling slightly on his own feet. He tries to walk a little further, but he falls down with an inaudible thump, his body collapsed on the floor. He's getting paler. And- god, fuck, there's blood pooling on the floor.

    You cover your mouth in horror. Fuck. Did you kill him?!

    You close the window and stand sharply, turning to the guard. "Thank you, sir! I saw where I dropped it!"

    "You're welcome," he says, but you're not really listening as you rush outside. You have to leave. You have to get to...

    .

    [ ]The clinic. They have to have put him there.

    [ ]Your room. You need to hide. Fast.

    [ ]Write-in.
     
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    • [X]The clinic. They have to have put him there.

    Fletcher said:
    "I... might have lost some underwear. Maybe." You look away, fidgeting slightly and hoping he buys your act. Underwear's a sensible enough thing to lose, right? "Can I please look for it? I searched the hall in front of my room, but it's not there, and- well, if someone finds it, who knows what they're going to do with it! Annnnnd it's the stupid kid kind, with the polka dots and ribbons and stuff, and it'd be really embarrassing even if someone returned it! So can I please look at the tapes!"

    "... Oh."

    You look up, and you find that the guard looks absolutely mortified. "Okay!"
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    The guard just came to a completely wrong conclusion didn't he?
     
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