Realistic or Modern ~Paradoxica~

[SkyGinge]

'Time and Tide Wait for No Man.'

- Geoffrey Chaucer
​

The University of Cambridge: one of the world's most esteemed universities, and one of the greatest hubs of fantastic young minds. Bright youngsters from all over the world apply for its elusive places, but only the smartest, the hardest-working are accepted into its educational elite.


Amongst all of the ambition, intrigue, and posh snobs drinking themselves silly, one man has set his sights on achieving the impossible: Time Travel.


On his own, it seems his efforts are folly. Yet, aided by fellow freshman and perhaps even fate itself, one of the world's most ambitious projects is propelled into fruition as on the first day of term, a mysterious meteor falls from the skies, a meteor that could contain the final key to cracking the conundrum.

Alongside making headway into their experimentations, the group must also maintain their standard university lives as they explore their first taste of true adult independance, juggling relationships and friendships alongside their impossible task.


All the while, they edge closer and closer to uncovering science's deepest secrets. But is all really as it seems? Is Time Travel really the scientific blank-zone that one would be lead to believe? Are they really the only ones out there with such a lofty goal?


Most of all, do they really comprehend the magnitude of their discoveries?

Join the adventure in:

~PARADOXICA~
​

 

[SkyGinge]

OCTOBER 3rd 2015. LOCATION: UNKNOWN

​

“Mr Kramer, are you absolutely certain that you want to go through with this?”


“I've never been so certain in all my life.” The dim room lit only by a single amber light, a frail flickering creature that painted the chamber in drab greys. The man stood in the open capsule, a determined expression on his face. Some might have called it a look of bravery. Dr Kluge judged it as a desperate madness. The necessary emotion, of course.


“Hmm. Call me plain, or boring, or whatever you may wish, but I do not think you are taking the implications of this procedure seriously,” Kluge intoned, arms held behind his back, ruffling the tails of his lab coat as he paced around the metallic chamber. “What comparison can I make... hmm... it is like that Mars expedition that is going on. The people who have volunteered themselves must completely abandon the lives or lack thereof that they have on this planet. So will you, Herr Kramer. This procedure is new, dangerous and not fully tested; the results could be catastrophic. And we do not know what your interferences will do to the time-line. You may well cause these past few days never to exist. Paradoxes, parallel worlds... you could not even make the jump.”


“You know the risks, Doctor,” Kramer was impatient; perhaps afraid of the creeping indecision that threatened to cripple his resolve, “You knew them when you and your institute started this project. Nobody's stupid enough to attempt time travel without knowing the damn risks. And you're not a stupid man.”


“My dear Kramer, that is precisely why I question you. I know the risks, very much so. But I was afraid that you do not.”


“Just get the damn thing over with,” Kramer dismissed, “Your wasting your time trying to talk me out of it. I'm going back in time, and I'm saving my wife. None of your damn practicalities are going to talk me out of it. ”


A beat. A sad smile, a tut, with masterfully rehearsed precision. Then: “Very well. Good luck, Kramer, good luck to the first man to cross the impossible dimension.”


Kluge left the room at a patient stroll. Tick-tock-tick-tock; his footsteps plodded through the cold corridors. Time was a funny business; it has the peculiar capability of teasing you in your moments of weakness. Nervous as he was at that moment, Kramer was probably drowning in it.


The scientist reached the vantage room, the door sliding shut behind him with an ominous click. “Egon. Tell them to activate the machine."


With his customary grunt, Egon departed. His shouts were heard mere moments later. Kluge reclined on his favourite comfy chair. From here, from his mechanical birds nest, he could almost imagine the man he was sending to his death was merely a figure on a game board.


The capsule door slammed down, encasing the man in his translucent coffin. Kramer inside was a dead-man flinching. An almighty siren screamed, rumbling, roaring, as if the entire building was crying out in agony. Kluge's assistants flinched too, instinctively raising their hands to their ears. The room began to rumble. One of his assistants collapsed to the floor, curled up in the foetal position, desperately shielding his poor little ears. The dials began to throb with light. A torrent of numbers flooded the screens.


Dr Kluge, face marked with a knife's edge grin, reached into his bag of popcorn, took a greedy mouthful. Chomped. Gulped.


There was an almighty flash. The sirens peaked, the building rumbled one final time. A mug of tea clattered to the ground. And then there was nothing.


Kluge clambered over the desk, hands on the window, and peered down into the chamber.


Kramer was gone.


“Egon,” Kluge reclined back to his seat, “Retrieve the data from this experiment.”


“Yes, Doctor.”


Egon wasn't long – he never was, and soon he returned with a newspaper article in tow. Kluge snatched it from his hands and eyed it ferociously.


“It was exactly the same as the previous times, sir,” Fischer informed him. “We found his corpse the exact moment he arrived.”


“Excellent!” Kluge sprung to his feet. “In that case, I think we can call Experiment 005 a complete success. Gentleman, we have established a pattern. And with further experimentations – why, I am more than positive we can conquer the art of time travel!”


The newspaper was abandoned on the table. 'German Woman, 37, Found Dead, Husband Mysteriously Disappeared', the title read. And above it, a mugshot of Kramer.


~~~

Chapter 1: Fateful Encounters


October 2nd 2015. Location: Cambridge University, England.
​

~Midday, 12:00PM. Cambridge City Centre~

​

@Noblesse @eheu @Sotp[/block] [/font]

 

[Sotp]

The explosion that took his leg was still fresh in his mind.


On many occasions, when Felix was already on the verge of going to sleep, he would be jolted awake by a silent shockwave and a blinding flash of light as the innocuous green ball on the floor suddenly detonated and sent them flying. It was a scarring experience, he would say to himself, and by that, he meant it literally; After all, there was the metal leg to prove it. Despite it being a 5-year old memory, the flashbacks just didn't cease. Again and again, night after night, week after week.


Many times already, Felix had re-lived the explosion, along with the fateful minutes leading up to it.





There were 7 of them in that room. The one closest to him at that moment was also an expat, albeit one who spoke Norwegian somewhat haltingly (Felix was fluent in the language). His name was Damien Moreland, from what Felix could remember, and he was one year his senior. The fellow Lance-Corporal was a kind, compassionate person, always out to help and making sure never to get his platoon in trouble with the NCOs, one of whom was in the room that moment. Staff Sergeant Aron Björkman was a real bastard, perpetually finding ways to get the whole platoon into trouble, and on the pretext of discipline.


This particular day, he had decided to come into the room to rant at Felix's squad. "Lance-Corporal Ingerman", he yelled at another person, the jugular veins in his neck protruding hideously. "You'd better not frick around with me, or I'll make sure you and your squad have your faces done in by myself!"


That was the last thing the Staff Sergeant said, for at that very moment, another of the men snapped, throwing a grenade onto the floor. In horror, the Staff Sergeant realised that the pin was out. Before he could say a thing, a blinding flash of orange tore through the room like a dragon's fire. Felix could feel the shockwave throwing him halfway across the room, his ears ringing terribly. Through the smoke, he could see that the Staff Sergeant had been killed by a splinter of his own drill cane. As the alarm sounded, darkness slowly crawled up towards him…


...


Of course, that was not something that had bothered the young German very much. In fact, it even concerned him less than other, seemingly trivial matters, like the fact that he was rather short for a German, or that his hair never had a perfect style (at least, not to himself). This was mostly due in part to his optimistic outlook, which saw him through the darkened 6 months of his life just after his discharge from hospital and the therapy that had followed. During that time, he had, on many occasions, looked longingly inside the closets in the kitchen, trying to find the bleach or the drain un-clogger.


Had I succeeded in doing that, I wouldn't be here today.


Clichéd, maybe. Yet, it was probably the truest thing Felix had ever thought.


After all, he had landed himself in possibly the best university in the world, studying a subject that he was completely passionate about. It wasn't every day that God would show such a bias towards someone like Felix, an angry boy just out of the army missing some bits and pieces.


Some would attribute it to sheer luck, but to Felix, there was much more behind it…


…





~+~+~


October 12, 2015


There wasn't a better day to be moving into the dorms than this particular day, the 12th of October; It was just the right temperature (around 27C, according to Felix's own estimation), a great mercy, considering the fact that he was hauling a suitcase along with him, filled with all of his junk. Walking with a distinct spring in his step, a rhythmic metallic tapping following his movements as he went along, the German musician made his way around his new surroundings.


His slightly eccentric mannerisms were not immediately apparent, though he could sometimes show it if he wanted. Just earlier on, he had gone into a Starbucks outlet to get himself an iced cappuccino. The barista, on seeing that he was listening to something (he had one earpiece in his ear) asked him about it, mostly out of curiosity. The answer that Felix gave was, to the barista's amusement, something along the lines of "AntonBrucknerSymphonyNumber9inDMinorMovement2ScherzoBewegtLebhaft", the words drawly and rushed, but filled with a nuanced enthusiasm that was immediately detectable.


Of course, that would naturally be the case. It was the same as asking any other enthusiast about his area of passion. Ever since he was 5, Felix had had a strong love for the musical arts within him, one that managed to live out the 6 months of darkness in his life following the grenade incident. One could even say that, much like Beethoven, it was his passion for music that saw him through the hard times.


Now, as he cruised down the pedestrian crossings and into the vicinity of Cambridge, a metallic and heavy footstep accompanying a normal one, the music continued to flit through his head despite his earpieces being out of his ears. To think that, just a while ago, he had been sitting in a crammed room in a nameless Norwegian university, wondering what he was to do with his life as the lazy lecturer prattled on and on. Now, he was to study at one of the most renowned university in the world.





Already, he was beginning to feel the difference. Cambridge definitely had that uncommon prestigious factor, along with a general air of profession not immediately apparent elsewhere. Smiling to himself, the German made his way towards campus grounds.





~+~+~


"Excuse me?"


"...Yes?"


"This is the Porters' Lodge, right?"


"...Yes."


Felix was somewhat taken aback by the vocal laziness of the man at the desk, though he didn't say a thing about it. After all, he had just walked over from the airport after a number of hours of being crammed into a tiny space; even if the receptionist wasn't friendly (which wasn't the case; this guy was just a little bored), there was no point in arguing. At least he hadn't asked him about his leg.


"Well, I'm staying here. Could I have the keys to my dorm?"


With that, Felix passed his identification to the receptionist, along with a folder filled with other papers.


Terseness was one attribute that Felix displayed in his speech, much to his own benefit. Within moments, the receptionist had returned with a little key, hanging from a copper coloured ring.


"...Here's your key. ...The number is imprinted on the back."





…





There happened to be a bar nearby, but Felix wasn't interested in it just yet, if at all; bars were not places which he frequented often. Besides, he had to unload his stuff first. As such, gripping his luggage, the young German made his way over to his room, the dinging sound of his leg muffled somewhat by the carpet.


The key had come with a little pamphlet listing the way to the dormitory. Felix had specifically opted for one that was more out of the way, yet accessible enough to be able to get to classes in 15 minutes on foot. He needed the quiet time, after all.


Whether they granted his request was a different matter entirely.





~+~+~


By this time, with a little bit of difficulty, Felix had already made his way to the dorm. It was a quaint building, one which had no succinct description, but that Felix simply referred to as "cute". The building itself was rather old (visible from the red bricks), but very well maintained. Apart from two cylindrical water tanks which sat placidly on the roof, the building was basically a hollowed out brick cuboid. Next to it was a little hill, not very tall, but enough to obscure half of the building from where Felix was standing. Overall, from a wild guess (Felix was, after all, hopeless at calculating anything apart from musical intervals), there were 12 rooms inside.

He hadn't taken the time to take note of the dormitory's name (probably because he was too excited), but it started with a 'W'.


Looking about the place a bit, Felix soon decided to make his way to his room. The number on his key made that task easier, and before long, he had arrived at the room that was to be his for the next few years or so.


Ah, the room. It's time so see what it looks like...


The room wasn't exactly the most luxurious room he had seen thus far, but it would more than suffice. It was, after all, big enough for him to fit his things into, yet not too big such that it would make a headache out of mopping the floor (which was non carpeted). There was a big window which had blinds attached.


As he stepped in, Felix could already begin to think of a new arrangement for the room.





Let's see... I should probably move the bed further from there... Maybe a plastic plant here? That might be nice… And I'd probably have to get some proper curtains. Those blinds look old and dusty.


Having spent time in another dormitory of roughly the same dimensions, Felix could say for sure that fixing this one up would definitely be easier than the other one. After all, the previous one had much bulkier furniture.


Rearranging would have to wait for another day, though. Dumping his suitcase next to the closet, Felix loafed about the room a bit, sucking at the iced cappuccino that was no longer in the cup. It was still rather bright outside, despite the fact that it was already late afternoon. Or maybe it wasn't; despite being immune to the energy leeching grasp of jet lag, Felix's biological clock was still rather messy from the sleepless night he had had the day before, spent musing excitedly about the times he would have ahead of him. The fact that Die Walküre was blasting away on his speakers didn't help.


As of now, Felix decided to loaf about the room for a bit. After all, lunch had been a little on the rich side (the airline had provided the creamiest gnocchi Felix had ever eaten in his life), so dinner could probably wait till a bit later. Chinese would be the best option (he was having a craving), but at that point in time, Felix was so excited that anything would do.


Of course, he usually chose not to show this excitement; most people around him usually described him as, rather oxymoronically, "cheerfully stoic".


As he tossed the cup into a bin, Felix sat down on the carped floor, his iPod playing the last few bars of a piece. He had brought a large number of books along with him (quite a number of them were musical scores), but they could be put in the shelves later. Now was a time for relaxation. Eventually, Felix decided to go for a stroll; the weather was, after all, perfect to do that.


At least I slept on the plane. Now I'm rested enough to go for a walk.


Stuffing his brown wallet into his jeans pocket, Felix stood up, pulling his jacket over his shoulders (but not putting his arms into the jacket's arms, thus allowing them to trail behind him) and walking out into this new place that would serve as his home and the gateway to his first postgraduate.





~+~+~


Felix's aimless wanderings had taken him quite a number of rounds around the university premises and its vicinity. Having a reasonably adequate sense of direction and a soft copy map of the area on his phone (which he downloaded using the dormitory's free WiFi, for he hadn't gotten his Internet set up as of then), the dormitory wouldn't be out of reach should he see a need to return for whatever reasons. Along the way, he had gotten his bearings about the place, making mental notes of places of interest and so on. Despite the sun's rays beating down everywhere, Felix certainly didn't feel any of the heat; perhaps it was the temperature of the air, which remained comfortable enough for him.


His wandering eventually took him to a part known as Chapel Green, where there was a large field bordered by the most remarkable pieces of architecture Felix had seen yet. The buildings themselves fascinated the German almost as much as the prospect of being able to get inside and take a look around. No doubt, there were vast treasuries of knowledge and wisdom piling to the brims within those very walls. It was enough to make one elated, irrespective of his or her faculty.


Now, though, what interested him most was to simply stroll about and relax. There wouldn't be much time to do such things in future, and work was still work, even if one enjoyed it. Standing at the side of the path, Felix gazed somewhat wistfully at the grand buildings rising high above, as well as at various parts of Chapel Green. As of now, the whole place was rather empty, save for one oversized guy in a lab coat fiddling with some nuts and bolts in the field. Being someone from the artistic camp, Felix couldn't fathom why anybody would commit themselves to a life of logarithmic functions, empirical formulae or Newtonian Mechanics.


Who am I to judge, though? Some of them would probably feel the same about me.


The tall guy's fiddling soon irked the curiosity of the German, who strolled casually over to the part of the field where he was setting up the equipment, whistling a tune he had conjured up on the spot. Without much hesitation, Felix stepped over, just a few paces away from where the tall, lab-coated guy was fiddling with the nuts and bolts on the floor, watching. Resting slightly on his good left leg, Felix called the tall guy amicably.


"That's a fine device you've got there."

 

[Woebegone]

Cheryl Villaflor




Time & date check: October 1st, 2015; 6:43 PM




"Clothes, check; stationery, check; video games, check; laptop,ch-"




"Cheryl, honey, that's like the -nth time you've check your things already."




At her mother's words, Cheryl's back stiffened and merely gave her mother 'the look', it wasn't a threatening look but the look itself had formed its own statement, and right now, it would've said something like,



You think so?



Cheryl lets out a sigh soon after, taking a large gulp of air beforehand, she was a bit drained out from all that baggage checking and for being the sloth that she is, this is no small thing

.

"Sorry, mom. It's just that- ",

Cheryl sighed again, her tone was a bit down; she wasn't necessarily disappointed, in fact, it's quite the opposite but the idea of leaving her mother and father for studying initially didn't hit her, who'd know that it would be the day after that she'd experience casualties. Her nails slowly made its way towards her lips; a habit of hers whenever she's nervous. Her lilac dipped hair was also uncombed but it was still kept the way Cheryl always liked it.




"It's fine, dearie."

understanding her daughter's situation, Chloe just held onto Cheryl's hand.

"You can do this, after all, isn't this an opportunity for your future? Not only that, you may discover new things there."

she said in an encouraging tone, suiting it the situation.




"Well, now that you mention it, I guess you're right."

, a bit more inspired, Cheryl responded, reminding herself that she was, after all, taking such measures to ensure the future that she

hopefully,

deserves.


Knowing that her mission was a success, Mrs. Villaflor smiled and proceeded to leave the room, smiling at her daughter before she fully exited.


Satisfied with the unnecessary number of times she had checked her things, the aspiring linguist stood up, her hair coursed against the motion but bounced just as so; she patted her knees and slumped herself over her bed, memorizing its soft comfort one last time. From where she remained at rest, she could catch a glimpse of her study desk; its tidy nature was completely unfamiliar to her as she would habitually slump her things there but what stood out from its now clean characteristic is a photo of her and her family. It was quite old now given the fact that Cheryl was merely a baby at the time but it still held precious moments, memories for her; she would've brought along with her too but she made herself aware of the awful homesickness it may bring along with it.




Knock knock,

A sound normally characterized as those that come from doors interrupted her of her reminiscence. It was her mother again, Cheryl could tell without even a glance as her mother would always knock her door lightly for two times as opposed to her father, who kno- no, bangs on her door endlessly.




"Cheryl, honey."

her mother peeked inside and proceeded after seeing her daughter.

"Don't forget to adjust your watch, you might lose lots of precious time if you forget."

she noted then left soon after.




"If only I could adjust time itself if I adjusted my watch."

she muttered, to no one in particular; the thought amused her and created a light smile across her face. Finding her watch,only to see it on her study desk made her face sour as it was out of her reach from her bed and groaned at the fact.

At Cambridge University


Time & date check: October 2nd, 2015; 1:57 pm
​

Cheryl's Room



​

Just arriving from quite the long trip, the young, aspiring linguist threw herself to her new bed; her exhausted body accepting its unfamiliar contact. Initially, Cheryl expected to arrive like,

hours

earlier but having a horrendous sense of direction and hazardous habit of being idle all the time can make you the worst traveler of all time. All that time she spent asking around, walking to random places and just simply sitting on a nearby bench led her to have quite a horrible experience; so horrible that it overshadowed her initiatory excitement, then again, it was only horrible 'cause she had to walk so much and for a sloth like Cheryl, it's pretty much an (X-Y=Z) equation for her where X is her energy, driven from all the excitement that she currently has, Y for her the energy she wasted, primarily lost by every needless activity she's done and finally, Z for her satisfaction level.


But her expectations for Cambridge University were certainly high; In fact, they were higher than Cheryl's height. Her expectations weren't the only ones that stood higher than her; Buildings, trees and most of the other students towered over her. The streets and overall historical, medieval-ish feel of architecture was marvelously breath takingl. The college certainly met her expectations though the populace was quite a shocker for her; it wasn't as heavily vacated as she thought it would be, resulting to the ear-splitting silence it has though it was occasionally broken by a few, small chatters that a few people happen to be around caused.


Normally, a tour would be a wise course of action for fresh students like her but this is Cheryl Villaflor we're talking about here, she would honestly wouldn't take a step out of her room unless a person's life were on the line; Well that or a hint of excitement manages to take over her lazy body but seeing as she's exhausted and haven't even begun unpacking yet, the adventurous tour may have to wait. Slowly, the lazy student dozed off, as she lay on her bed, landing herself on a different adventure than intended.


And that is how Cheryl used up her first few hours at Cambridge.

Summary

Cheryl arrived at Cambridge after a day of being frantic over being a college student; immediately, getting lost as she sets foot in Cambridge University's vicinity, losing lots and lots of precious time and leading to her exhaustion.

Summary

Cheryl arrived after a hours of searching for where to go (though it was quite unclear she got lost in the first place as it was supposed to be fairly easy to find the establishments you were told to go to) and she limply threw herself over the bed for a nap, leaving her things unpacked and letting the chance for a tour to slide.

 

[Owl]

Isac Mihov
​

2nd October, 2015[/COLOR] [COLOR=#808080] Cambridge University, England​

It was truly a glorious day outside and the masses of people arriving in this prestigious institution appeared to be enjoying it thoroughly. Well, given the chance, one is more or less obliged to ogle over the weather when it is so perfect in this otherwise rainy country. Missing out on this fun would be a sin! And, as good semaritans, all appeared to carry out their duty, marveling at the cloudless cheerful sky with smiles rivaling the sun plastered across their red visages or seemingly giving themselves up to a dance to the occasional gusts of wind. All but one...

It was truly a horrible day in the eyes of one particular freshman. To him, the crowds were too loud and annoying, trumping around aimlessly like a herd. However, a herd of "lower" animals would have been quite less barbaric that the heap of humans as they pushed around and screamed in chaos not in order to say something but rather just for the sake of screaming. A group of enraged elephants would have been less boisterous than the creatures known as university students, who were a peculiar species indeed. Though, they were more irritating than intriguing... And also tall! The man had so far walked past at least 10 individuals to rival a giraffe, and each time he had been unable to stop himself from feeling jealousy rise from within the deepest corners of his guts. How dare these people tower over him! To top it all off, the weather was horrible! The man was sweating under the heat of the fleeting summer sun, yet when he attempted to remove an article of clothing soon the playful wind would rudely remind him that autumn was coming! He might not have grown up in better conditions (quite on the contrary. The winters in northern Sweden were unforgiving and rough, while the summers - short and mild), yet at least they were consistent!

How had he even ended up here in the first place!?​

2nd October, 2015[/COLOR] [COLOR=#808080] Swedavia airport, Lulea, Sweden

As Miho handed him a bouquet of flowers, his son couldn't help it and laughed aloud. This was very uncharacteristic of Isac, as he was someone renowned for his gloomy personality, yet his old man sure as hell knew how to crack him up. The little inside joke between father and son had thus resulted in making the younger one voice his happiness and bend as pain crept through his body, tears forming in his eyes. But he was crying out of joy.


Fun had been absent from his life for a while, more precisely - ever since he returned a couple of months ago from his journey during gap year. The days that followed were excruciatingly slow in Isac's eyes as he struggled to fit into his memory tons and tons of information from tons and tons of books that just pilled up with every passing hour. It would appear that the soon to be uni student had finally gotten a reality check, realizing that "Hey, I am going to one of the best institutes in the world. It's high time I sat my ass down and at least attempted to better myself so that the stay there doesn't turn into a complete flop". Yeah, he kind of gave himself a hard time and in the end was seriously reconsidering going into the field of Biology...


But now it was nice to joke around with his dad and, most importantly, joke around about the same science that had been tormenting him - Biology. Even better, they were having a giggle due to Botany! And Miho knew all too well how much his son loathed, hated, detested this subject.


Not even waiting for his son to wipe his eyes and regain some level of composure, the older man spoke up "I want you to do me a classification of all the different flowers in that dandy bouquet."


"I will, dad... Promise" Isac had responded, a smile plastered across his face.


A couple moments of awkward silence passed... It was just Miho and Isac together and, despite loving each other unconditionally, the two didn't have a lot to talk about mainly because it was usually Isac's mum who would begin a discussion and carry it through. The father and son only conversed without Freja when the topic was related to science. Unfortunately, the woman was not here to aid them since her career was calling. As a perfectionist workaholic, she could not let her colleagues down! And so the two men were stuck here without the guidance of the loving Freja...


At last, Miho made a move and broke through the silence.


"What are you waiting for? Go already! Your life is waiting right up ahead... that, and 149 passengers so you best get going. Also, wipe that smile off your face. It's weird..."


Without a word, Isac finally boarded the plane to his new life...

2nd October, 2015[/COLOR] [COLOR=#808080] Cambridge University, England

Well, said trip towards his new life lasted 3 hours and was pretty much the epitome of hell. Isac couldn't get a second of rest, despite his previous night being sleepless, and spent the flight simply staring at the passengers around him, who all looked comfortable and happy in their dreams. He missed Sweden... Yet, why did he miss Sweden?

Isac Mihov was not the type of person to feel homesick as he had traveled around during his gap year throughout which he had indulged wholeheartedly in the lifestyle of other cultures and the climate had never played too big of a part in his funtimes! Maybe this time around something else was at work - the fact that he was nervous. Being accepted into the university of your dreams sure is an astounding milestone, yet soon you come to realize that you are not a kid anymore and there are many obstacles in your path to glory (or even just getting a stable job...). With success came responsibilities and new challenges as well as rivals, some of which were light-years ahead of Isac... Nah, he was just feeling down because he is that type of person!

His behavior is honestly to no surprise as Isac Mihov is famous across the globe (and by globe I mean the town in which he grew up) as the most pessimistic individual to ever walk the Earth. At one point his view of life used to be quite honest as he generally disliked everything but at least back then he was able to take pleasure in the little things that existing had to offer. After a while, however, as people began noticing and publicly discussing this side of the man, he on his part started to intentionally find the downside of all he came across. In a couple of years, this way of teasing became an annoying subconscious habit.

~-~-~-~-~-~-




By mere chance, by the working of some miracle or even through the design of the hands of fate, Isac found himself at last stumbling into the Porter's Lodge. To be completely honest, at first he wasn't sure exactly where he was as whining about everything along the way appeared to have eaten away at his memories. This, of course, resulted in the man missing pieces and bits of time from his life but with Isac this was a regular occurrence. Sure, it would be nice to actually put to good use our free moments instead of being displeased throughout them but what has happened has happened and there is no going back...

At last coming back to his senses, Isac looked around, first spotting the words written above the desk and then landing his gaze on the man behind the desk. Interlocking gazes with this stranger was... unnerving at first but Isac soon came to realize that this person was about as done with everything as he was. So, after a short talk lacking in any enthusiasm from both parties, our hero fulfilled his quest and proceeded on his way to the dormitories.

~-~-~-~-~-~-

The building accommodating the arriving students seemed amazing to Isac. It was nothing too special when it came down to appliances and modern-day comforts but the shear historical value of the structure made it spectacular in the eyes even of people who understood close to nothing regarding architecture and design. The building was grand and Victorian, soaked in years of events and memories that as though flew around with the dust particles, made visible by the light coming in through the windows. One could easily visualize old-fashioned silhouettes moving across the bricks erratically, telling a forgotten tale. Probably a story that one would be tempted to be a part of... yet the past is just past...

Snapping out of his daydream, Isac continued up the stairs, onto the last floor and then down the hallway, on the way realizing that there were in total a lot of dorm rooms. This wasn't good news to him as more people meant more ruckus and unpleasantness and... well, in the very least his room was the furthest away which meant... something. He wasn't entirely sure what, but either way the location of his dorm made Isac feel comfortable. Yes, if he could he would have opted for an apartment off of campus but that wouldn't fit his pocket so best deal with what is at hand. Plus, it was a rather nice room, with a comfortable bed, large windows adorned by old-fashioned curtains, a... fireplace (which, disregarding the fact that its presence was weird, reminding Isac of home sweet home) and a desks by the biggest window. It wasn't anything too fancy and certainly needed a touch to make it feel like home, yet it certainly was far from shabby.

Tired of the day he had experienced (despite doing nothing and simply being sour throughout the whole experience) and not feeling the need to socialize in the very least, Isac resolved to unpacking, settling on the desk by the window and going down to study... and also getting a vase for the bouquet before it reached it's demise.

~-~-~-~-~-~-

((King College has some nice dorms))​

 

[Aes]

Cecily Lexington//October 2, 2015//1:45 PM



​

Cecily walked with a spring in her step as she impatiently tugged her luggage behind her towards the Porters' Lodge. Having done a bit of research on the flight to Cambridge before dozing off, she had a slight idea where she was going. However, that bit of information wasn't enough to make her not seem lost. The fact that her strawberry blonde hair was loose and a bit rumpled didn't help her look, but the short nap she took in the taxi ride from the airport seemed to be worth it so she didn't mind. She glanced around, pinpointed the Freshers' Welcome Desk, and made her way to the line. When it was her turn, she tried not to be give the impression of a nervous freshman. Obviously, it didn't work. Despite looking perfectly pleasant, the woman at the desk seemed to be focused on being efficient rather than nice, which was understandable to the young woman but still...she had hoped for a very warm welcome.


"Name?" The straightforward manner caught her off guard for a moment. "Uh, Cecily Lexington," she replied ever so smoothly, her voice attempting to match the urgency in the question asked but failing miserably. The woman glanced at her warily from below her spectacles before giving the computer in front of her a few taps. "Lexington comma Cecily. Alright, here you are. And here's your...room..key. The number's on it for you." The woman held out a key which the young woman quickly, though hesitantly, took. "Thank you," she said, already overwhelmed and still embarrassed from the wary look she received about four seconds ago. Ah, already off to a fantastic start...

------To the dorms-------



​

After deciding to try to find her dorm by herself without any help, Cecily quickly figure out she could not do this on her own and ended up "asking" someone who would be in the same building. Just kidding. The "asking" was more of her hearing someone's conversation about their dorm building and following along in the least stalkerish way she could possibly follow. It made her feel a little weird, but she forgot about the weirdness when she found the dorm building. The building itself was beyond any of her exceptions. The magnificent Victorian structure and just the impressive size of the building left her in awe (she had very low expectations for this entire experience). It left her at a loss for words, which was a real problem for her because she expected writers to always have words for every situation. It finally hit her that she was in the Cambridge, about to study English, and get one step closer to her dream. This overwhelmed feeling of joy and pride left a bit breathless as she went in and figured her way around to her dorm (unfortunately the kind stranger that had unknowingly helped her was now out of sight after Cecily's three minutes of being impressed).



​

-------In her dorm--------

​

​

Cecily liked packing. Unpacking, however, seemed like an extra hassle to her. Now she had to find the proper place for everything because rearranging items around the room would be time consuming later and cause extra problems because everything would already be in a set position. Beethoven's "Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor" was playing from her phone on the desk next to the bed, so that did help calm her nerves quite a bit. About two thirds of the way through packing, she remembered that her mom had asked her to call when she got there just to make sure she had landed safely. "Sorry, Beethoven," she said, picking up her phone and pressing the green call button next to her mom's number, which in turn caused the music to fade into silence. "Hi, Mom. I'm here...in college. Cambridge...right." She paused, listening for a second at her mom's rambling about some meeting she had interrupted with her call. "Mom, we are such stuff which dreams-No, no, I was not just about quote Shakespeare at you," she lied, attempting to use humor despite knowing that her mom had never humored her before; the woman lacked a good sense of non-work-related humor.


"Well, you did tell me to call you once I got settled in, so I'm-yeah, I know, but-I'm..okay. Bye, love you too." Cecily sighed, pressing the red 'end call' symbol on her phone with a disappointed expression. So much for the myth that distance made the heart grow fonder. However, she had already expected her mom to forget her as soon as she stepped foot on that plane. She had accepted it a long time ago that meetings and late night dinner parties would always be top priority to her mom.


Impatient with her incompetence to unpack efficiently, she quickly dumped the rest of her clothes on her bed and kicked the empty suitcase under her desk for later. She reasoned that it would at least give her something to do. Also, the lack of books she had brought with her made her a bit peevish. She had brought five books in total, and now she was conflicted of what she should do. Should she go out and buy the books she already owned but just couldn't bring? Or should she just buy books she didn't own and never own another copy of the books she liked but couldn't bring? There was always the Kindle...but she didn't like it despite all the books she had bought on it. The Kindle was her backup in case all her books were ever stolen, or burned, or accidentally shredded to bits by two cats. In actuality, she never really like the Kindle and preferred real books to swiping on a screen. With all this turmoil, Cecily felt as if she were truly burdened with terrible issues.


She huffed at her bangs and sat down comfortably on her bed, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly exhausted. Somehow she had managed to get the university, register, and unpack before her dorm mate despite falling asleep at 1:30 AM. She had heard about the barbecue that was supposed to take place on the chapel lawn, but decided that after the excitement, she could risk a second to rest her eyes. So there she was, this supposedly grown up eighteen year old, curled up in a ball for what seemed like fifteen seconds (it was actually about four minutes). "I'm never going to adjust to adulthood," she breathed, checking her watch in amazement at how much time had passed relative to what she thought. She smoothed her sweater and skinny jeans as well as lightly brushed her bangs to make sure she looked neat, even checking her reflection from her phone which was odd for her. However, this would be her first impression on her future classmates and she didn't really want to mess it up too badly. Luckily, she felt more like herself. Disappointing mom, check. Four whole minutes of rest, check. Unpacked luggage...half-check.


She was debating where to go out and socialize when a sudden drowsiness overcame her. Perhaps those four minutes of sleep really didn't help her all that much. Just..five more minutes, then I'll get up, she silently promised herself, yawning and letting her eyes rest "for just a moment".

 

[BluePandemonium]

Jacky Cearrach, October 2nd, 2:00 Pm


Jacky stepped of the bus, backpack, suitcase and large bag of sports equipment in hand. She swung the bulky, black backpack over her shoulder and smiled. A warm breeze ruffled her hair and the unusual sunshine warmed her face as she glanced at her surroundings. Lofty victorian arches and tall green oaks seemed to cover the campus of Kings College, and the landscape could almost have been from another age of carriages pulled by horses and women dressed in ball gowns. The day could not have been more perfect.


Jacky pulled out her phone and opened up Google Maps, quickly pulling up directions for "The Porters Lodge." She glanced over the directions and stowed her phone in her pocket. Looking up at the blue sky, she strolled towards the large and ornate building in the distance, swinging her duffel bag in her left hand, and lugging the long heavy sports bag in her right. It was just a few hours ago that she was hugging her teary father goodbye in her small, obscure hometown, and now she was on the campus of one of the most prestigious, well known universities in the entire world. She hoped she didn't screw it up.


She soon arrived at the building, it's intimidating spires towering over her. A flood of new students were jostling into the building, before sorting themselves in an almost orderly line before the front desk. Jacky carefully made her way into the building, nearly knocking someone over several times with the unwieldy fencing bag. She waited patiently, feeling very young and small amongst the students that towered over her. She was a year younger then most of the students at the university and it was hard for her to forget when she was so short. After several minutes of waiting she reached the front of the queue. A tall and almost bearlike man with a red bandana fastened around his head weakly smiled at her.


"Welcome to Kings College! I'm assuming you're a first year student?" The man said with a strained cheerfulness. Jacky grinned earnestly back at him.


"Yeah, I'm here for my dormitory assignment. I think I'm in the Whichcote house?" Jacky said.


"I'll need your name." The bandana-adorned man sighed.


"Oh, of course. Jacky Cearrach. C-e-a-r-r-a-c-h." She spelled her name out for him since she knew he would ask if she didn't.


"Cearrach, Cearrach, Cearrach." The man mumbled as he typed rapidly into the ancient computer in front of him. "Ah, Cearrach." He reached under his desk and grabbed a key. "All of our helpers are out right now so you'll have to find your way to your room yourself. Take a left out the door and keep straight for about ten minutes. It's a red brick building with two water tanks on the top. Anyway, there will be a barbecue in a bit on the lawn so if you want try making it back there." He slid the key toward her and beckoned for her to move aside so he could help the next person. Jacky grabbed the key and thanked him, then quickly slid to the side and hurried through the door, getting jostled by several students on the way out.


She made her way to the Dorms, listening to relaxing music on her phone and enjoying the warmth. When she reached the boxy building she heaved the door open and trudged up the stairs to the third floor. The building was simply designed but it had a cozy air that Jacky enjoyed immensely. She could see this being her home in a few weeks. As she unlocked and entered her new room she sighed with relief. Even though it was a glorious day spending that much time with people made her exhausted. The room was small, as she had rented one on the cheaper side, but it was well fitted with comfortable looking furniture. She heaved the sports bag off her aching shoulder and dropped the backpack and duffel bag to the floor. Then she collapsed into an overstuffed armchair.


After resting for a few minutes, Jacky started unpacking. She withdrew her laptop from her backpack and placed it on the desk, unfurling the charger and plugging it in. She unpacked the rest of her clothes into the mahogany dresser, and stowed her fencing gear in the closet. Lastly, she pulled the few books from her backpack and set them on the shelf by her bed. She hadn't brought many, just a manual on flying a two person aircraft, a book about taking care of orchids and some C++ manuals, but they were exceedingly heavy. Jacky sighed, knowing she should go to the barbecue the man at the Porters Lodge mentioned and she wouldn't get a better chance to meet people for a while. She pulled on her purple converse and laced them up quickly, grabbed her favorite jean jacket and purse and headed out the door.


When she arrived back at the bar she resisted going in, instead she sat down on the overly bright green lawn and took a few minutes to compose herself. She looked around her and noticed a few other students chatting with each other, including a a short, brown-haired man talking to a lanky man in a lab coat tinkering with something. Groaning at the thought of making small-talk with someone Jacky decided to wait just a few more minutes until she walked over. Lost in her thoughts, she gazed up at the imposing gothic-style building.

 

[Hoax]

\\Willow Alexander//

\\October 2nd | 2015 //

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Bro~

them

You doin' okay so far?

me

I'm literally vibrating in my seat. I'M SO CLOSE :D

them

Remember: Brush your teeth, play nice with the other kids, and don't blow yourself up. Oh, and have fun, sis :)

me

Thanks "mom". Say hi to the sibs for me <3

​

Firing off a few final texts to her brother and clicking her phone off, Willow sighed and looked out the train window. The scenery flew by in a blur of colour, bright greens and browns had long since turned to the grey and metallic tones of the city. It was only moments before the train pulled into the station, and the young woman was painfully ready. Hell, she'd been ready to get there since she'd left New York. Being so close, yet not there quite yet was agonizing, and it took every bit of willpower for Willow not to yell in frustration.


The tell-tale sound of screeching brakes and she was off. Gathering herself and her bags -that were already quite organized beforehand, as she didn't really have much to do on the train ride- Will shot off the train like an electric-blue bullet, narrowly dodging station-patrons left and right.


"Alright. Now we find the Lodge, right?" She mused, exiting the station and pausing outside to grab a map from her bag. She had already poured over the aforementioned map, pre-planning her route. After brief consideration, the student decided to walk. It would take about half an hour on foot, and she wanted to see town anyway. Get to know the place, as she'd never been to England.


Slipping on a pair of black headphones, Willow cranked whatever playlist was handy and started the trek to the Porter's Lodge.

~0~ Porter's Lodge ~0~

​

The blue-haired girl slid -quite literally- into the Porter's Lodge, as she had gained speed once the building was in sight, and her boots slipped gracefully across the floor as she slid into place in front of the desk. Willow opened her mouth to speak, but the man behind the counter held up a hand, effectively killing the words in her throat.


"Before you say anything, let me guess. You're a student, here for a key, probably need directions. Did I get it right?" He drawled, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her blue hair skeptically.


"Yes, yes, and no. I've got a map, I'm fine." Willow responded promptly, crossing her arms. The man had quite obviously been doing this for the better half of the day, and looked to be exponentially done with it all.


"Oh, and My name is Willow Alexander, so you can get the key." She added after regaining the train of thought the oh-so-unenthusiastic man had gleefully destroyed. After the exchange of information for said key, Willow gave the man a half-wave, before bolting for the door. She was only minutes from King's College now, and the idea made her body buzz faster than it already had been. Though first came the dumping of bags and checking of rooms. Then she could explore. And maybe meet people. Smart people. People like her who aren't baffled by the slightest scientifically intelligent comment.


The thought made her steps just a tad springier as she walked.

~0~ Dormitory ~0~

​

The dorms were… Quite nice. Nicer than Willow's room back in New York had been, actually. Living with 3 siblings certainly didn't give one a lot of space, and definitely not a whole room to yourself.


Sighing with relief at finally being at her destination, the girl dropped all of her bags and collapsed face-first onto the bed in a single movement, breathing in the "Not as clean as it could be" smell in the sheets. Everything was great. Possibly too great, but even Willow's mind didn't go into paranoia at this point.





Though the student had to admit, she was exhausted. Now that she was lying down and not actively moving, jet-lag -or at least the train equivalent- had caught up with her. Stretching herself out fully on the bed, Willow breathed out deeply and sunk into the mattress, relaxing on both a physical and mental level. She wasn't sleepy, per-say, but resting felt amazing.


After about fifteen minutes of simply lying and thinking, the girl rolled out of the bed and started to unpack, setting everything up how she felt things should look. The room hadn't been particularly colourful to begin with, but now -thanks to her erratic choices of colour for most of her possessions- an explosion of the rainbow variety had spread across the room. It could be considered tacky or over-powering by some, as there was no real pattern to the colourful madness, but Willow preferred it to whites and yellows and beiges. The chaos reminded her of home, and her family. Her house with the siblings hadn't been "Clean" in years. They lived in a general state of "Not as filthy as a pig-sty but close". It wasn't dirt that was everywhere, as Will's older brother had been a bit of a dirt-freak, just stuff. Lots of stuff. And occasionally people. And animals, depending on the day.





Once she was satisfied with the room, Willow grabbed her phone and headphones again, as well as the room key, and slipped out the door. What better time to explore than today, before classes started? And besides, she'd heard mention of a barbecue in front of the chapel sometime, so she headed that way.


It had been a good day, so far.


And there was only more to come.

 

[QuixoticKitten]

~ Rosemarie Montrone ~


October 2nd 2015



​

The Montrone Residence


Romy shoved her last box, labeled in bold black letters as "stuff", into the trunk of her car. The sun beat down on her face; the day was unusually warm for October. Though it was different, it was good. A change of pace could always be beneficial, and for the dark haired girl, today would be like going from a tricycle to a Harley. No longer would she be trapped at home, the one in the room that was clearly unwanted. She would finally be her own person. She was Romy goddamn Montrone and she didn't care what you had to say about it.


With that particular thought on her mind, Romy slid her sunglasses down from their perch on her forehead and hopped into her old green VW Beetle. The car wasn't the most stylish or eco-friendly, but she had saved for years to buy it. She had every right to it, and it was going to uni with her like most of her other possessions. The less my family has to think about me, the better, she thought to herself. After pulling her seatbelt and jamming it into the latch, she hit the gas pedal and headed off to Cambridge, not even looking back at the home she would be leaving behind.


xXx


Porter's Lodge


After a slight traffic scuffle and a tedious trek from where she had parked, Romy finally made her way into the Porter's Lodge. She was somewhat exasperated and definitely not in any kind of mood to interact with others. Sighing, she walked up to the desk and gave a wave to the man behind it. He wasn't impressed.


"I'm Romy, wait sorry, Rosemarie. That's what it'll probably say on my key, anyhow. But you can call me Romy if you'd like," she began, smiling. That same smile slowly dissipated as the man looked at her wearily.


"Can you pick a name princess?" he asked condescendingly. "I haven't got all day." Romy smiled again, apologetically this time.


"Sorry. It's Rosemarie." The man looked at her impatiently. "Oh wait. Montrone. That's it. Rosemarie Montrone," she laughed out of embarrassment. It was so like her to forget to mention her own last name, especially on the most important day of her life. He handed over the key and she grabbed it eagerly, barely even looking back at him.


xXx


Dormitory


Romy carried her final box up the stairs of her dormitory to the room where she would be spending a good portion of her life at Cambridge. Dropping it on the dorm floor, she sent a silent apology to whoever was rooming below her. They would probably be hearing a lot of noises similar to the one she just created by dropping the box.


The room itself was nice. It wasn't like her room at home, spacious and decorated with everything she loved, but it wasn't a cupboard under the stairs either. The afternoon sun filtered in through the window and Romy made a mental note to invest in some good curtains. Overall, the room had a quite homey feel and Romy could imagine herself happy and content within its walls. However, she didn't feel ready to unload all the memorabilia of her previous life yet, so she headed out into the hall, hoping to make some friends.


Without watching where she was going, Romy headed down the stairs out of the dormitory. She was so focused on taking each step quickly that she almost didn't notice as she passed by a blue haired girl as absorbed in her own world as she was, accidentally bumping her shoulder. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she gushed, giving the girl's shoulder an affectionate pat, then quickly pulling her arm away. After all, this was her first interaction of university (not counting the man at the lodge) and she didn't want the girl to think her too weird. That was the last thing she needed - enemies.


@KaiaWolf

​

 

[eheu]

Claudia Hansen: 2nd October, 2015. City of Cambridge, England.
​

11:00, Cambridge Station




Automated announcements in the background spared no efforts in their distorted wailing about trains that were about to arrive, trains that have just arrived, and trains that were soon leaving. The noncontinuous stream of people diverted their flow left and right as each member headed about their own immediate destinations.


Among them was Claudia Hansen, who, albeit grateful for its preventing her leaving her luggage in the luggage compartment of one of the trains that just left, wasn’t really paying attention to the announcements anymore. Also unlike most of the rest of the crowd, she was standing still.


She was standing still partly because this moment to her is of some significance, and through doing so she was attempting to have this moment last a little longer - however contradictory that notion appears.


It was also partly because she wasn’t yet done shoving the short treatise on formal systems - the final two-thirds of it motion sickness had prevented her from reading - back into the satchel that already had too many things stuffed into it.


The weather was absolutely gorgeous. The air was fresh and not chilly, just the right kind that allowed for stress-relieving deep breaths that did not scorch one’s windpipe with the cold. Those deep breaths she took several. The sky was almost entirely clear of clouds, with sunlight so evenly bright it warranted a symbolic shading of one’s eyes with a hand even if the light didn’t really affect one’s sight, which she carried out, with the train ticket still kept between her index and middle fingers.


She was slightly upset there was no-one there to say something dramatic at this glorious scene. No, uttering an overly grandiose “welcome to Cambridge” to herself on her own will just look very pathetic.


Despite that, there was no denying it was a significant moment. She was at Cambridge - at the place where there once were figures that were once to her only legends. And now she had this opportunity to follow their footsteps - people like Russell and Whitehead, Babbage and Turing, Penrose and Conway; Isaac Newton - wait, scratch that last one, she never really liked Newton.


But still. By all standards, this was the beginning of something new. Something profound.


Something like trying to decide the right direction to read the map in so that she can get to the actual university.


13:00, Porter’s Lodge




“Name?”


“Claudia - Claudia Hansen.”


“...Okay. Room key, number on the back.”


“Thank you.”


The interchange with the Porter Staff was surprisingly brief.


Claudia had always held a complicated opinion towards her name. For one thing, the concept of assigning to an individual at birth a label that is a very complicated non-systematic product of implications and historical ties for the sole purpose of identification was surely sufficient to warrant a lot of contemplation. Of course, to avoid doing that, she tended to focus on more mundane aspects of this whole label business, in particular the gratefulness towards the fact that by some fortunate series of coincidences she happened to be assigned one of those labels that comprised of very commonplace elements, implying the convenient fact that little elaboration would be required when she was to convey her name.


That, however, raises the contradiction: if this was a system with identification as its sole purpose, then its permitting labels that map to more than one individual entirely defeats the point. In particular, the way this was annoying her was this: in the potential situation in which she manages to discover a theorem with profound significance, naming it after herself will result in an utterly mundane and un-intimidating name.


Which really just takes half the fun out of this discover-a-thing-and-name-it-after-me business.


With her luggage in tow, Claudia let out a sigh over her hidden discontent; playing with the keychain by repeatedly tossing it into the air by a small distance then catching it. Trying to successfully predict its trajectory while walking provided a quite enjoyable exercise.


It also resulted in her soon having to very inconveniently bend over and reach for the ground while trying not to let fall off any of the numerous things that were hanging off her shoulders.


13:20, Dormitories




Many minutes later, one of the particularly isolated wings of the dormitory buildings. Claudia, along with her many pieces of luggage, staggered through the door.


For many people, locating a particular door amongst many nearly identical doors arranged down many nearly identical hallways on many nearly identical storeys was a task of great difficulty. It is generally found that they spent much more time standing at a point or wandering in little circles doing the guesswork, and much less time in comparison actually making progress moving towards where the door with the correct number was situated. Through labelling each door with a number and having them arranged in a pattern with a sufficiently self-evident scheme, however, most buildings - like the dorms at King’s College - allowed even new residents to carry out that task fairly efficiently. Claudia, for instance, spent only a small portion of her trip identifying numbers, and most of the rest was efficiently expended on actually travelling to her room.


That was, though, probably less because she was particularly good with numbers or adept at finding patterns, but more due to the fact that climbing the stairs several stories upwards while carrying four pieces of luggage was something that generally took a long time to do.


Therefore the first thing she did after entering the room was to allow all of her luggage to collapse into a large pile on the nearest open area that did not obstruct the door’s closing. The second thing she did after entering the room was to resist herself also collapsing into a large pile somewhere nearby.


The third thing was locating the bed, which was nearby. It was large, and looked rather soft and comfortable, and therefore a perfectly safe and reasonable place to collapse into.


Claudia gave up and proceeded to drop flat onto the bed.


Legs dangling off the edge, she tilted her head to the side to take a better look at the room. It was not overly spacious, yet did not give off the impression of being too crowded, despite being intended for one resident only. Quaint.


Sunlight poured in through the window pane on the opposite wall, unobstructed by the drawn curtains, but hitting a lot of particles on their way after they have entered the room - a process that appears to the human eye as a field of countless dancing specks of light slowly drifting downwards until they disappeared off the edge of the domain of light.


That sunlight kept the room quite illuminated already. Claudia did, however, make the effort to locate in her sight the light switch, which was just to the side on the adjacent wall.


She spent a while trying to decide whether to say that she liked it there. Quite interestingly, this little space gave off the feeling that she expected “home” to feel like - even more than her actual home, she would almost say. That perception was, of course, biased; for the idea of anything “feeling like home” is only significant when one was away from home.


She never liked being away from home - but seeing that she was certainly going to be stuck away from home for quite a while, she pondered over the viability of simply redefining the concept of “home” just to save the hassle of being constantly upset.


Unable to reach a conclusion, yet deciding that she had taken enough time to catch her breath, she somewhat reluctantly rolled off the bed, stood up, switched on the lights, and began unpacking.




Another many minutes later.


Claudia stood at the centre of the carpet-covered floor, with her travel cases standing tidily at a corner, lids zipped up and handles extended although they no longer held anything, nor would they soon see the need to be pulled anywhere. Most of the contents of her luggage had been extracted and distributed to the suitable sites around the room - including: folded clothes into the wardrobe, stationery onto the desk, and the numerous books to occupy the bottommost layer of the bookshelf.


She crossed her arms and stood proudly over the organized room, in the backlight of the sunlight-saturated window. She was happy with the arrangement - although that sensation was only profound when she succeeded in disregarding the fact that this now perfectly tidy room was, undoubtedly, destined become a lump of irremovable mess within a matter of weeks.


At least now it was pretty. Claudia took a few steps over to the the comfortable-looking colourful single-seater sofa near the window. Satisfied that it didn’t seem too dusty, she retrieved from the satchel lying on the bed a pile of paper connected by staples (the pile that she had failed to finish reading on the train, and also failed to shove entirely into the satchel earlier), shed her shoes, and proceeded to curl up in the sofa.


Should probably turn on the lights if she was to read, she thought. An upsetting thought because she was just halfway into the process of bringing her legs up to rest them along the edge of the sofa. As a reconciliation, she committed herself to a brief struggle to reach the switch on the nearby wall without leaving the seat. Succeeding, she slumped happily back onto the cushion - only, however, to be hit by sudden confuzzlement.


Weren’t the lights already on?


She remained seated still for a couple of seconds, before her memory confirmed that the lights were out when she first entered the room, that she had indeed flipped the light switch once before; and her perception confirmed that the lights were currently also out. She then spent a second wondering why she made such a big deal over it since all that made perfect sense.


She removed herself from the seat, the book she was reading placed onto the cushion and taking her place. She walked properly over to the wall, extended her finger, and poked the switch again. After doing that it became immediately clear the source of her earlier perplexion.


The lights did not turn back on.

 

[SkyGinge]

~Chapel Green~

​

"That's a fine device you've got there."


"Hmm? Fine in what aspect?" James did not look up from his tinkering, "With engineering, scientific practiality is more 'fine' than aesthetic appearance, the latter being the only aspect of my device you've experienced so far. But rest assured - it won't be too long until you can see the wider picture."


Pausing for a second, James flashed the man a warm smile. So conversation had found him after all, like everything else seemed to be. Whether that be trouble, clingy aunts, agitated neighbors, agitated policemen. Now he had something else to add to that list: a Germanic fellow, judging by the brief conversation he had just provided. The man had a deceptively average appearence; average sized, average length brown hair, average attire. But 'average people' don't get into elitist universities, so James knew there was almost definitely something intriguing about this man, masked by the shroud of averageness. So much so that James couldn't even attempt to guess the man's subject of study (somewhat thankfully, perhaps, as with this being James, any guess would likely be hideously wrong.)


Beside him on the lawn, James had unpacked a rather hefty hulk of metal, what appeared to be a battery of sorts, but rather a second or third hand battery seemingly sold by some shady figure who beforehand had practiced his kickboxing on it. Numerous wires protruded from it, like the first hairs of a newborn baby. The design was mad; a mad scientist must create mad science. And similarly, the equipment was undeniably weighty, a fact that had been completely unapparent when the metallic mess was masked inside James' pack.


The eccentric youngster fought through a tangle of wires, occassionally allowing a few sound effects to escape from his mouth - little 'ahs' and grunts; stock sounds, like those of a video game character. In his outstretched arm, raised unceremoniously to the heavens, appeared to be an old fashioned camera. His arms poked through the web of wiring like the vigerous bodies of smallish snakes.


Until finally: "Eureka!" A beaming James emerged from the wiring, which now seemed impossibly little for how tangled he'd managed to get himself. "Sorry to trouble you, earphones-man, but I could use some assistance. My father suggested I try something practical, so I've gone and buit myself a little device. It's rather small-scale admittedly; it can only scratch the edges of the time-space continuem. Anyhow, do you want in, old sport?"


@Sotp

 

[Sotp]

Felix smiled to himself, not replying to the earlier question about the technicalities of the word "fine". Normally, he was not one to bother about the various technical details about language. If it was grammatically correct and coherent enough to convey his message, that would more than suffice. Poetry, music, art… they were not things which technicality could be enforced on. As the XIV Dalai Lama said, "Know the rules well, so you can break them well."


In any case, the tall guy's device certainly intrigued Felix, who stepped over and peered at the innocuous thing on the floor. It wasn't something he'd spend his whole life working on, but it was definitely something fascinating, worth a few moments of his time.


Before he could interrupt the guy, who was still talking, Felix couldn't help but hear the mention of "time-space continuum". From what little he knew of theoretical physics from reading National Geographic, altering time was bordering on the insane. If anything, this person had ambitions.


Felix liked that. Many people had questioned him in the past, some even mocking him for wishing to do something so un-lucrative like what he wanted. Yet, to him, it wasn't about the money or the stability, but about his passion.


"Well, I'm studying music, not medicine, so I suppose I could join you in the extra time that I have."

His thoughts drifted off a little. Extra time was definitely something that Felix appreciated more after his time in military service. Back then, every move he made was scrutinised to the tiniest bit. The NCOs were allowed to be as cruelly pedantic as they wished, and the men would be placed at the mercy of their mood. Whether it was wrath or indifference depended entirely on that.


Even the more triumphant moments of military life were not much better. Felix could still recall, with some coldness in his spine, the very last parade he was in. On the night when the people in his platoon (himself included) was to be promoted, a number of senior officers had come down to watch. As they went on with their business, a number of them, accompanied by the CSM, walked around the platoon, staring ominously at the trembling men. Despite being in the middle of the platoon, Felix could still vividly remember how nervous he was. As they walked through the ranks, he bit on his own tongue, large volumes of sweat soaking into his cap, his shirt and his white gloves.


Worse than all the regimentation, though, was the lack of freedom to express himself. While many despised it for the discipline and the psychological torture, the worst thing about it for Felix was the utter ennui.


His two years in the military had truly allowed him to appreciate that freedom which he now had in overflowing plenty..


"My name's Felix. Pleased to meet you."


Looking back at the device, then at the tall guy, Felix continued, "So… I heard there's going to be a barbecue later. You wanna stay for that?"


@SkyGinge

 

[DamagedGlasses]

Mathias "Matt" Caras

The Arrival
​

"Well, this is the place." Mattias set his bag on its side as he took out his brochure, feeling excitement creep up on him as his head seemed to swish and swosh about with images of all the things that he would be seeing in the near future. It was hard to imagine something like this happening to him, just a normal guy with a dream, but apparently he lived in a world where guys like that could make it from time to time. Managing to pick out his brochure from its place in his satchel, its grey lined black fabric looking rather homey.


Holding up the brochure, Mathias took a good look at the 2d picture of the main structure of Cambridge, its architect being displayed with the most professional of camera shots. Lowering the brochure, his smile grew as he saw the groves of the 2d phony disappear inlue of a wondrous peice of real life work.


Each groove, even from this far away, had such a raw feeling of stature, as if its height was multiplied by the amount of culture it had built within its walls. Walking forward, Matt picked up his case. The rest of his stuff was coming tommorow due to some problems the Airport had been attacked by in Matt's most inopportune moment, but he didn't let it get him down.


He had a good bit of his stuff, he books, and his clothes, so it wasn't like he was going to go into the wilds with nothing. Walking forward, Mathias couldn't even begin to describe his surroundings. He just knew that everywhere he looked, he saw a story. A story so ingrained into the ground that it had become reflected in the eyes of the people and while this place was a center of knowledge, it held far greater worth than that. Bypassing the grouped crowds of people just like him, the lucky ones who had gotten into Cambridge with blood, sweat, and tears.


His grip tightened on his strap as he thought of the effort that he had put into coming here, and just seeing it all around him, it really gave worth to what he had done. Matt wiped his eyes, smiling as he felt more justified about his actions in the past than ever before. There was nothing to feel sorry about, nothing to rethink or redo. He had jumped the obstacle of highschool and now it was only this college business that kept him from his dream.


Picking up his pace, Matt kept a scattered focus on all the wondrous sights around him, and he hardly noticed the long line he had gotten into for registration. Of course, it was a bit hard to ignore when the person at the counter snapped their fingers in his face. Looking forward, Matt saw a rather annoyed looking bandanna man. Although, he had a smile on his face, and usually smiles were nice, except this one looked like it wanted to punch him in the face.


"Hello! Welcome to King's College! Your first year here?" Matt was about to answer the question when the man steamed ahead, obviously not caring whether or not he said yes or no, "Of course your a first year! Why else would you be here standing in a line, holding everyone up as you stare off in the distance?" Matt had never felt more attacked by a smiling man then at that point in time. The bandanna man asked, "So, which dorm and name?"


Matt smiled as he remembered this and began to tell the person exactly what he needed to know.

~~~~~CuteSquiggle~~~~~

​

Matt sighed as he set the bag down onto his new floor. It was a cozy room, one where he could seriously sprawl. He would go all roman on this room and make it his! Well, it was already his, but regardless! Smiling at his inner dialogue, Matt set his stuff down and saw the small table in the corner of his room. It came with a default looking, but still overall nicely adorned chair. It was something he was used to, his past school having a distinct infatuation with chairs.


Apparently being one of the leading educators wasn't enough for them and they still wanted the right to say, "Yeah, well we have these chairs!". Going over to it, Matt sat down and really got into it, letting the soft and hard parts of it do their jobs as Matt uncoiled. He had had a long ride over there and it was nice to get a small sit down, but he knew that right now was not the time. His excitement was wipping him up into a frenzy and if he didn't go out and about, he would go mad.


He would have to rent a bike around here, not having the one from home, so riding was out of the question, and while he liked to walk, he didn't think that getting lost was the best idea either. Thinking back, Matt remembered the barbeque event that seemed to be going on in the lucious courtyard. Piping up, Matt stood up from the chair, grabbing his satchel which was relieved of his heavier items and was not looser. It was good to have one big pocket with him when he was going out to explore the unknown.


Opening up his door, Matt felt the cool air conditioned breeze circulate into his room and while it had been nicely temperatured earlier, it had grown even more so rapidly. Walking through the air, Matt closed his door, locking it with his keys before walking towards where he had come from, leaving his new room and his accompanied stuff in the hands of the room's built in defenses.


Reaching the courtyard, Matt spent his first instance just surveying the whole thing from the sides, the size of it making the clumps of fraternizing school goers, old and new, much smaller than they probably were. Looking around, Matt saw that a few others had had the same idea as him, for varying reasons of course. Surely not all of them were on the sidelines because of just how many people their were? Right? It didn't help that while there was such a great view of the green grass, there was an amazing feeling of watching everything from the sidelines. He kind of felt like a historian.


It was marks like these on the world that stood the test of time, slowly building up an immunity towards the corroding effects of erosion and infrastructure damage. Smiling fondly, he noticed one girl in particular looking across at another duo. She seemed interested in what they were doing and with how caught up in the rush Matt was, he felt confident.


Walking up, his satchel swinging slightly at his momentum, but with restraint, Matt got closer to her and said, "Hi, my names Mathias, or Matt. Matt's good too," He looked over towards where the two guys were talking, not noting the rather odd getup of the one with the labcoat on, and asked, "Are those your friends? I'm sorry for prying, its just, I was over there looking at everyone and you caught my eye. Of course, you might not have known them. Its not hard to look interested at a guy wearing a lab coat, and it is a rather nice lab coat...I'm sorry, what was I saying?" He had lost his train of thought and now he was scrambling to find it. At least he had gotten to talk to someone. That was a +1 in his books!


@BluePandemonium

​

 

[SkyGinge]

~Chapel Green~

​

"Music, of course," James's face brightened in acknowledgement, and as he nodded, it almost seemed as if his every feature was nodding too. James' expressive abilities almost trumped his nack of getting in trouble. And 'of course', said he? James hadn't had the slightest clue before, though now, as he leaned forward, his gaze examining the man. Was there not some strange essense in his visage that harked back to his Germanic musical kin?


James didn't know too much about musical heritage, but his father (in the little time he spent in the house) had often indulged in playing classical CDs in the large lounges of their various houses. Alistair would sit in his grand chair, alone, eyes closed, allowing the music to flood the room, and Jame imagine that in that state he must've felt like all the music was live. In his younger days, James was always curious as to whether his father was asleep, but somehow Alistair never failed to notice him, as if the walls of that hall were another set of eyes to him.


Like much of the other things that happened in their homes, James had paid them little heed.


After a lengthy pause of disappearing into the cloudy mass of 'James Land', the young scientist sprung back to life. His lanky limbs stretched out like elongated springs and sprang back into a dynamic pose; his arms semi crossed, heels together, one arm adjusting his glasses. Perhaps this was his subconcious' way of hiding his absent-minded state, which was curious, because normally James showed very little awareness that he was ever being rude. In any case, it seemed like the Nordman had similarly drifted off into thoughts about something, as he abruptly introduced himself.


"My name's James," James held his stance, and if his were an anime figure, his glasses would have inevitably glinted with light, in that scientifically impossible way of theirs, "James Hart." With that, he twirled around to kneel by his battered battery, before a memory from earlier that afternoon came to mind. "And no, that wasn't an intentional James Bond reference." Whatever a 'James Bond' even is, James though unculturedly.


"A barbeque sounds nice," James agreed, though in actuality, his ambition was clouding his hunger beforehand and the mention of food now disipated that cloud; James' brow furrowed at this. Coincidentally, a group of about six second year students, all wearing the same University shirts, had just arrived by the chapel entrance, a mixed sex group who were laughing and chattering from themselves as they set up the barbeque equipment. Still, James had little interest in food. He'd collected a willing lab-rat, and now was the time to experiment.


"She'll take a little while to warm up," James mumbled, twiddling a few switches on the side of the battery. And that was all the explanation he offered. If the Norwegian wanted to know just what exactly he'd let himself in for, he'd have to ask directly.


@Sotp

 

[eheu]

Claudia Hansen
​

14:20, Chapel Green




Claudia Hansen hadn’t yet recovered from her disapproval of the ambiguity in which the instructions to filing a repair request were written. It was interfering strongly with her attempting to continue reading the remaining two-thirds of the second chapter of A Course On Mathematical Logic, the paper of which it was composed she struggled to keep flat under the occasional burst of wind that would attempt to turn the page back to the one that she had just finished reading.


Such, unlike the other members of the university that had just arrived at the place, she wasn’t as enthusiastic in marvelling at how the Chapel was a spectacular work of architecture. At the moment she cared more that the bench she was sitting on was comfortable and well-lit but not too hot - incidentally, all of those it was - and less about the odd figure of a tall man in a lab coat walking quickly across the lawn in front of her.


It wasn’t by her intention she ended up there. What brought her to Chapel Green was, in fact, a search for a nicer place to read other than her room, which she left to make space for the dormitory workers who were there to check on the circuitcity in the ceiling, and their toolbox and portable ladder. She had gauged that the Chapel was the nearest structure belonging to the University, and also that it would likely have open and empty classrooms with window-side seats. She was incorrect on both accounts, but on the other hand, she had located a rather comfortable, cool, well-lit bench along the corridors of one of the wings - which contributed in making her slightly happier.


But why was there a tall man in a lab coat walking quickly across the lawn in front of her?


It was several seconds after the tall man in a lab coat exited her range of sight that Claudia gathered that the peculiarity of this scene warranted more attention. She looked up from her reading at a mostly empty lawn save for a few uniformly dressed figures near the entrance some distance away, carrying barbeque equipment.


In the mean time, the wind had decided to skip the second half of the proof of an extension of Cantor’s theorem. Claudia’s attempts to correct that lack of rigor resulted in the entire document being dropped onto the ground in the opposite direction.


Grunting, she removed herself from the bench, took a few steps further out into the sunlight, and bent down to retrieve the book, and the bookmark lying nearby. A quick search disappointingly failed to return the page that she was just on, and Claudia shoved the bookmark back into the book on an arbitrary page and decided to deal with it later.


Meanwhile, she looked to the right, to the area of the lawn where the tall man in a lab coat stayed, along with another man nearby. On the ground was a strange object that looked very heavy.


From where she stood Claudia could overhear parts of the conversation. On the basis that eavesdropping was not considered a moral thing to do even when unintentional, she shoved the book under her arm and trotted over to the two, stopping just in front of them.


“Continuum?”


That was the first word that she could make out unambiguously in the dialogue, and she was remotely amused at the coincidence involved in that she was just moments reading on a related topic.


“ What sort of continuum?” she asked, “this does not look like a linearly ordered set.”


Since linearly ordered set didn’t usually have a gender, nor a need to take some time to warm up, she strengthened that conclusion in her mind so that it now read “this is most certainly not a linearly ordered set”.


Claudia inspected the object on the ground, from the tangled wires attached to which James had just emerged. She found that she had absolutely no idea what it was, and subsequently decided it was better to ask politely for some elaboration.


And then she looked at the uniformly dressed figures near the entrance some distance away who were carrying barbeque equipment.


“And why are those folks carrying barbeque equipment?”





@SkyGinge @Sotp

 

[Sotp]

"Well, it's nice to meet you, James", Felix mumbled half to himself, gazing at the magnificent structures that surrounded the two of them. It was a rather comical sight, a shorter-than-average person standing next to an oversized wire frame. Of course, neither of them seemed to be aware of it, despite Felix having to look up and James having to look down.


As he stood by the side, Felix watched as a large group of young men and women began to set up barbecuing equipment right in the middle of the field. Not the most healthy choice (Felix was especially worried by the fact that barbecued foods contained carcinogens), but then again, it was his first day at an Oxbridge school doing the one subject he had a love for; this wasn't the time for Chinese takeouts or omelettes.


"Now, James did mention his equipment having to warm up..."


As to what the giant next to him was planing with that oddity he was fiddling with, Felix had no clue whatsoever, apart from the vague reference to time manipulation or something along those lines. Smiling to himself innocuously, Felix looked as a girl approached the two of them, asking James about the "continuum".


Well, I suppose we could all give this device a try. At the very least, it'll be fun.


@SkyGinge @eheu

 

[Hoax]

\\Willow Alexander//



​

Willow had paused to lean against a wall, cycling through one of her many music playlists and trying to find a good song for exploring the campus. One hand flipped though the phone, one hand held the headphones up in a sort of non-commital way, only covering one ear.





The sudden bump jolted the young student from her thoughts, eyes snapping up to glare at the other person. Now normally, automatic dislike blossomed towards the other person in this situation, or any that interrupted her thoughts/music. Listening to music was serious business to her, even at times to the point of restarting songs she particularly liked if she hadn't been paying enough attention to it.


But the somewhat angry look that was -quite solidly- stuck in her repertoire of usual facial expressions, fled as the pre-determined opinions cleared and she got a good look at the offending individual.





"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." The girl had said, patting Willow on the shoulder before swiftly retracting her arm, as if worried she would bite. The blue-haired student slid the headphones around her neck and slipped the phone into her pocket, offering the other girl a casual smile after her frown had dissipated.


"No problem. You just startled me, is all." She said with a chuckle, hoping the student hadn't noticed her immediate moment of displeasure at first contact. First meeting with another student, and she wanted it to be a good one. No unnecessary glaring at people on the first day was her general rule. Though whether her face followed said rule was another thing.





"Name's Willow. You a first year too?"





@QuixoticKitten (So sorry for the lateness! ^^)

 

[Aes]

Cecily awoke with a jolt, checking her watch and exhaling in relief when she realized she had barely slept for twenty minutes. She blew at her bangs, eyeing her room in the state she had left it in: already a bit messy and untidy. Although she was never one of those people that refused to clean, she was definitely far from being a neat freak as well. She organized to the bare minimum, just enough to get by. Not that anyone back at home cared enough to scold her if she didn't.


She decided that now would be a good time to explore a bit and get to know the campus before classes actually started. It was either that or stay indoors playing on her phone. The later option seemed very time consuming and not worth it. She picked up a Shakespearean novel she had placed on the table and her phone, putting both into a bag that she slung over her shoulder before heading out. She vaguely recalled someone mentioning a barbecue along her way to her dorm. Were barbecues usually at night or during the day? Never having attended one before, she really had no idea what to expect except that things were going to be cooked, probably on a grill. She heard some other students talking about the barbecue as she exited the dormitory building, claiming that it was happening in the "Chapel Green". She caught sight of a few people carrying what she assumed to be barbecue equipment to confirm her suspicions.


She, again, followed the barbecue people to the Chapel Green area, trying to remain as casual and inconspicuous as possible. This was her second time today feeling like a stalker, and seeing how she hadn't heard the slightest whisper or caught the tiniest look in her direction regarding her behavior, she sheepishly felt like a pretty accomplished stalker. She was even holding the Shakespearean novel with her, occasionally scanning a few lines to make it look like she was one of those walking readers. As she entered the Chapel Green area, she brushed past the barbecue equipment people walk to let them set up while she caught a small group of people on the Chapel Green area. Seeing how they were the first group she saw and because she wanted to make friends as quickly as possible, she approached them, book still in one hand.


She heard the girl ask about the barbecue equipment and lightly plopped down on the grass beside them, placing the book on the ground next to her. "Well, I'm assuming it's for the barbecue I've heard about that's happening here," she replied, green eyes twinkling with a mix of awkwardness from barging into their conversation and hope that they'll let it slide. "Hope you don't mind me joining you-oh, that looks like an interesting contraption..." She fixed her gaze on the tangle of wires with a sudden interest.


@SkyGinge @Sotp @eheu

 

[QuixoticKitten]

~ Rosemarie Montrone ~


October 2nd, 2015



​

The Dormitories:


The blue-haired girl introduced herself as Willow, and Romy smiled, committing the name to memory. Despite the other girl's somewhat irritable glare, Romy couldn't help but put a lopsided grin on her face as Willow smiled. She decided in that moment that smiling definitely made a person look better. The way Willow's hair framed her face and the blue perfectly complemented her slightly pink lips made Romy want to kiss her then and there. She shook her head, letting her dark hair fall across her face, and told herself to get her head out of the clouds. It wasn't like this girl, the epitome of doom and gloom, would ever want to hook up with someone like her. And likewise, she couldn't imagine someone like herself dating anyone like this girl. But then again, who was she to judge?


"I'm Rosemarie. You can call me Romy though, everyone does." Romy smiled despite herself and extended her hand in a friendly greeting. In answer to the second question, she replied, "Yeah, I'm a first year. First day actually, and it's turning out quite nicely." She caught herself before she accidentally added now that I've met you. It was unusual for the normally practical scientist to develop romantic interest, and the concept of love at first sight was most often lost on her. However, she could admit that she was physically attracted to Willow in a way that had more to do than with the gravitational constant. It was yet to be seen whether or not they would be emotionally compatible, the half of relationships that Romy favored. For now, Romy put her schoolgirl crush on the back burner and settled on just being friendly.


Romy leaned up on the wall next to Willow, trying to seem natural. "So, um, what kind of music are you listening to?" she inquired, crossing her fingers that it wasn't country. Something about the twangy offbeats and stereotypical lyrics bothered Romy to no end, and she hoped that as a friend, she wouldn't have to endure that kind of music. Rock was much more her style, where the smooth, even chord progressions flowed easily through her headphones. The structured jumps from fifths and beyond calmed her, even in her darkest of moods. In the perfect world, Willow would be listening to a soft rock tune, silently humming along, but Romy was beginning to sense that with the blue haired girl, she could never exactly predict anything.


@KaiaWolf (you're fine girlie! I've been behind as well, so it's nothing to worry about.)

 

[Sotp]

Turning to the girl who had shown up, his tone and expression betraying none of his excitement, Felix smiled softly. "I don't know anything about it", he said, his slight Norwegian twang revealing itself somewhat. Looking at James, then back at the girl, Felix beamed. "As for the barbecue, I'll be staying for it. Seems like it's going to be rather noisy, though; I'd probably get some things and find a quiet place to… you know… yeah."


His voice trailed off a little bit as he sat down on the grass just a little distance from James' device, his gunmetal prosthetic right leg glinting in the gradually waning sun's magnificent golden light. It reminded him exactly of a scene from a book he had read long ago, though he couldn't quite put a description to it. Nevertheless, it was a charming, picturesque scene.


Taking out his iPhone, Felix thumbed through his massive archives of classical music, eventually deciding on a playlist labelled "Wagner overtures" and setting it to shuffle. With that, looked over at the girl and at James, as the first mesmerising bars of the



danced through the air. He had always loved this particular piece. It had a majestic, Dionysian well of emotion roiling beneath the deceptively quiet bars in the beginning, before ascending into an euphoric climax. After that came another quiet segment, and then…
Oh, right. We've not introduced ourselves.





Snapping himself out of his musings, Felix stood up (with little difficulty; the therapy had done its work) and approached the girl again, holding his phone in his right hand.


"So, what's your name?"


@SkyGinge @Aes @eheu

 

[SkyGinge]

"Continuum? This doesn't look like a linear ordered set."


James rose to stand, crossing his arms, a long finger resting aganst his pouting lips. A thinking pose for a thinking man; you could practically see the metaphorical arm sifting through his memory banks. Then his face brightened, and a surprisingly endearing smile rose to his youthful features, not at all twinged with maddened dreams of imaginative science. And surprisingly unaccompanied by graniose gestures, not that these subtlities would mean anything to the new girl, whom he had only just meant.


"Linear order, hey?" he dropped the pose, "Yes, well, no, you're right. That's because, like with all modern devices, the hardcore science is in here." He picked the retro camera device from its position on the floor, its many wires slithering up around it. "Doesn't look like much, does it? Could well have travelled through time itself, aesthetically, to reach my hand. From my experiance, science is best when it's deceptive. You sound like quite the intellectual, so I'd be more than happy to show you the internal workings some time. Maybe you could even help me out with my time machine!"


Another girl arrived, and immediately inspected his machine. "Yes, this composer chap said the same thing," he smiled, pleased to find friends, although in this circumstance, James' version of 'friends' was synonymous to 'text subjects'. The composer chap - Franz, was it? Or Norbert? James had already forgotten - took up the mantle of conversation before he had time to make a general introduction, leaving him with the first girl, who seemed far more interesting. Her mathmatical knowledge - and willingness to use it practically - was immediately interesting and impressive. And there was something in that downwards smile of hers... the omnipresent frown. Something wonderful.


"Presumably, the folks are carrying barbeque equipment because they're going to set up a barbeque," James mused without a single scrap of sarcasm, and several seconds to late to provide a coherant question to linear-order-frown-girl's question. "Anyhow, food can wait. Science must take the first priority!" James' wild outbursts always sounded at least slightly more sensible when directed at science.


"Alright, can everybody line up in front of the camera, please?" James asked politely, holding the camera up. "If you value your vanity, you may wish to smile, but really just being there is enough to satisfy the experiment."


@Sotp @eheu @Aes

 

[eheu]

Claudia Hansen
​

"Presumably, the folks are carrying barbeque equipment because they're going to set up a barbeque."


Well, that does make a lot of sense. Claudia thought as the idea of trying to refute that answer never even crossed her mind.


She wouldn’t really agree, though, with the next words James uttered. She was of the opinion that food was at least as important as science. Really.


Worthy of notice here, then, would probably be the considerable amount of appearances of the word “barbeque” that are accompanied by “carcinogen”, which were sufficient to discourage her enough to agree that in this specific case that the barbeque can wait.


While James delivered his monologue, what occupied Claudia’s mind was mostly the question “who even still uses this sort of camera anymore”.


The other question was less important - namely, her musings on James’ frequent references to time, specifically the instance where he described the way in which the outdated camera traveled through time to reach his hand. Because, obviously it did.


Obviously it traveled through time, because without time there could be no motion, and without motion there was no way in which anything could travel from anywhere to reach anywhere else.


Also obviously it traveled through time because - who even still uses this sort of camera anymore?


But before those thoughts concluded, Claudia was made aware that some part of her consciousness had had her unwittingly moved in front of the camera and already prepared to put up the stock photograph smile. As soon as she realized she was doing that she also realized that she hadn’t actually made the decision to do that, and to prevent accidentally doing something very stupid without intending to do it she quickly removed most of herself from the region of the lawn that faced the camera, and took a few steps near the machine and its presumed creator.


“Hold up. Time machine?”


When she said time machine she had in her mind the definition “a device that travels through time, or allows the travelling of something else through time, at a rate less than or exceeding the mundane twenty-four hours per day.” That definition was linked in her mind to three possible images: a particle accelerator, a DeLorean, or a police call box.


The tangle of metal and wiring that sat on the ground didn't look like any of those things.


“What time machine?”

 

[Hoax]

Willow watched the other girl with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, the two making for an interesting facial expression. Why'd Romy shake her head? Obviously ridding herself of a certain thought, as Willow personally knew the movement well. Though what that particular thought was, she didn't know.


"Nice to meet you, Romy." She replied after the other student's introduction, extending her own slender digits towards the outstretched hand for a solid handshake.


"It's my first day on campus too, and second day in England. Very different from my home in New York, I must say." She said, gaze wandering briefly around the room before snapping back to Romy. "A lot quieter, which I greatly appreciate. Now I don't have to blast my music straight into my ears to drown out the sounds of traffic. Or my siblings."


Bright blue followed Rosemarie as she leaned against the wall next to Willow, though in the back of her mind she wondered if this girl was truly this friendly, or just wanted something from her. It had happened a lot in high school, though by her first month Willow had already glared her way out of any fake relationships that had attached themselves to her like emotional parasites. It was a gift, really.


At the question of music, an obvious spark of unbridled happiness glinted in her eyes, but she was quick to downplay her excitement with a casual shrug.


"Nothing in particular. I don't really have a solid music preference, I just listen to stuff I enjoy." She said, glancing down at the phone in her pocket. "Pretty much everything, from every genre. Oh, except maybe blues and jazz… I can appreciate it, and enjoy listening to it, but I prefer other stuff." She finished, rolling her shoulders against the wall in a strange sort of nonchalant indifference.


"What about you? You a music fan?"


(Alright, so it wasn't exactly "Now" at the time I said it would be, but I got it up! So sorry again, I should be much faster with replies from here onwards ^^)


@QuixoticKitten

 

[QuixoticKitten]

Rosemarie's lips curved into a slight smile, amused by the worldliness of the blue-haired girl. "New York, huh?" she commented. Romy had never been out of the country herself, or much of anywhere outside of her charming little English town, for that matter. To meet someone who had experienced somewhere other than here was a shock, and the dark-haired girl was sure that she was in for many more. People came from all over the world to attend the prestigious university, though to Romy, they were like Martians. Her small, conservative town didn't boast diversity, and certainly not music savvy girls with dyed hair. It was like a whole new world for Romy.


The girl was obviously a fan of music, which was hinted at the spark in her eyes as Romy inquired about what she was listening to. Rosemarie could see Willow practically crossing all her fingers and toes, praying to whatever God may be that Romy shared that passion. Fortunately, she did.


"I listen occasionally, and by that I mean, like, all the time," Romy gushed. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of finding someone who shared her passion. Sure, she was a student of the sciences and not the arts, but music was like a science all of its own. The chords, octaves, fifths, tensions - their technicalities and patterns were absorbed fully by the dark haired girl's brain. "Though I do have to agree, jazz really isn't my thing," she added, agreeing with Willow, more to persuade the girl to like her than anything. "As geeky as it sounds, I actually love classical music. I also listen to a lot of rock, oddly enough, it's the exact opposite of classical. There are some cool neo-classical pieces I like too. Sorry for going on," she said, "music is just such a huge thing for me. I'll probably love you if you talk about music with me."


@KaiaWolf ((it's all good! hopefully everything will be on a bit more of a regular schedule now))