Chapter Text
Tuesday; October 9, 2012 – 2:35 P.M.
Bzzzzz ===>
My pants vibrated in sixth period.
Or, well, my phone did.
I squirmed at the feeling of device vibrating beneath my ass. I chose to ignore it. I did not want to risk the teacher catching me and having the phone confiscated. I still needed that device regardless of how outdated Motorola flips are in 2012. Just ignore. Who would text me during class anyway?
As I thought that, as though to spite, I felt another vibration. The people sitting around me turned to detect the source: the vibration felt louder the second time through. I straightened my back and glared at my teacher hoping a third vibration wouldn't occur.
Ah, math. So interesting. The importance of imaginary numbers and decoding messages by using matrices. I am just ecstatic about such adventurous topics. What a journey to discover a mathematical equation to solve how a person’s father can simultaneously be a brother and a son. He proves, by math, that Hamlet's grandson is Shakespeare's grandfather. That he himself is the ghost of his own father.
Wow, even bringing English into this. Biology also seems involved. Who said math was a stand-alone subject? It relates to everything!
Boredom aside, the class seemed to follow my example of falling asleep. They were all so diligent a few days ago, but now, more than half the class looked near death. For instance, the tall, curly headed boy in front of me had his head down. Possibly asleep. I established him as Kurloz just days ago when he awoke and turned to pass a paper back to me. Cronus sat next to him, a window seat, drumming his pencil and humming softly.
Turning to the right of the room, one could see Roxy and Jane passing notes, giggling, and such shenanigans. Shenanigans overlooked by the teacher. They were the only two that the teacher felt infatuated with. The only ones who would ask questions and engage in conversation. At first I thought they were kissing-up, a technique I do not, by any means, disapprove of. Later I realized that it is in their nature to make friends. They sat diagonally from each other, Jane in the front near the door, Roxy on the second seat of the next row.
I glanced three seats behind Roxy. Empty. I remember glancing over one day and seeing a girl, the same line as I, doodling. She would glance over at two guys who sat three seats in front of me, side by side, then look down at her notes, scribbling furiously. I swear I saw her drool at one point. Now there was no such girl. I had her name down as Nepeta.
That was, at least, the formation I had jotted down on my seating chart days ago. Different from last timeline, but not as inconvenient. If something went down during school hours, they all were at spots with an easy escape. Jane, Roxy had the door. Kurloz, Cronus, and I could possible survive jumping out of the window. Not as dangerous as it sounds since all the math, and science, classes are on the first floor. Second floor had the English and history. The (newly?) constructed activity floor, the third floor, had an assortment of elective classes. There was also the activity building behind the school that few classes used. Through investigation, I found that the only classes there are the outdoor electives that didn’t use a room often.
Oh, and the jeered ‘Disciplinary Club'. An elective class that dubbed itself a club. That was the reason behind the jest.
My phone vibrated once again, dismissing my thoughts. My curiosity got the better of me as I began to reach for my back pocket. I felt the flat surface of my phone and I started to pull the device out.
Of course, before I was rudely interrupted.
“Vriska? Can you come up to the board and answer this?”
To say the least, the teacher surprised me. The class was as well. I realized that karma still haunted me. The teacher, never this whole year, called on a student to answer a question on the board. I was his first victim.
Phone in hand, I decided best to shove it in my jacket pocket. Yet, as I was about to go up to the board, the bell rang, ending class. I raised a brow, but the teacher shrugged.
“Have a good day, everyone.”
Such teacher.
I stood, grabbing and throwing my backpack on my desk to pack up. Notebook, binder, pencil, calculator, erasers, all slammed in.
“Hey, Vriska!”
I glanced up to see a nuisance. I mean a friend? Semi-friend?
Again. I found thoughts that weren’t my own. I stretched, glancing around to see if some on with mind controlling powers was nearby. I didn’t notice anybody of the sort besides myself. Well, past me, since I couldn’t control minds anymore.
I think.
“Uh, hello?” I questioned. To keep me on your side or to keep up your image? No. I shook my head. Not everyone is like that.
“What’s up?”
Tempted to respond ceiling. “Putting stuff away. You?”
“Nothing much! Schools out for the day.”
No smell of booze. Check.
Lack of quirks. Semi check?
“Really exiting, don’t you think?”
In dress code. Check.
Wait. What?
“Uh, sure,” I shrugged. Not well versed in small talk. “Homework, though.”
“True.” She nodded. For some reason, I felt confused. Something was off. The girl noticed it as well. “You alright, Vriska?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.” I scratched the back of my head. What was going on?
“Thinking?” She was probably inquiring about what was on my mind.
“Yeah. The thing you don’t do.” The words rolled off my tongue by habit. I cringed. Something was definitely off today.
No self-control.
I expected her to frown, but instead she laughed. “You got some sass in you, girl.” Dumbfounded, I went along with it.
“Ha, yeah…”
Murderer.
“Good luck thinking, Vriska!” She patted me on the back. “I’ll see you!”
Murder her.
“Yeah. See you,” I called behind her as she frolicked out of the classroom. I felt sick so I slumped back on my chair. Kurloz was still asleep in front of me, so I nudged him.
He sat up dazed and turned to me. He tilted his head to one side, bangs following. I pointed at the clock behind me with my thumb. His eyes followed, then head nodded, understanding. He stood up, offering me a hand. I place my hand on my desk helping myself up. He, once again, tilted his head. You okay? He seemed to ask. I waved. I’ll be fine. He, too, patted me, but on my head, as though to show off his height advantage. He then turned and walked away.
I was the last to leave the room.
Students filled the halls with chattering voices. Openings of lockers and the connection of metal-to-metal when slammed shut. Steps filled with excitement, some quick passed, others lagged. I categorized mine as fast-paced. Steps that indicated the desire to escape. The chance to get the freedom long misplaced.
Yet I paused when I saw something out of place from the corner of my eye. I glanced on one of the walls. There were no lockers on this wall. Instead, a display case stood illuminating an assortment of trophies ranging from small to large. Third place to first. Names scripted on the bottoms of the trophies, the year, school name, along with a title. They remained unmoved. Not disturbed by the raging tumult of children, nor by the inspirational posters pasted on the glass casing.
I narrowed my eyes, squinting, to read off one of the names when I was suddenly push backwards. I managed to keep upright, bringing my foot down at the right second. Gravity did not spare my phone as it flew out of my jacket pocket and clattered onto the floor. The person who had hit me quickly reached down and grabbed my phone handing it to me with guilt-written eyes.
Don’t worry. Motorola flip.
Was what I wanted to say.
“Watch it,” I scoffed, snatching the phone from his hand. He was definitely taller than me, but I could take him. Probably.
“Sorry,” he began, about to prostrate in apology when his eyes widened in realization. “Hey, are you the new girl?”
New girl? Is that what they’re calling me?
“Uh, new?”
“Yeah, the girl who couldn’t come to school because she was in the hospital?” He slicked his hair back and smiled in a way that tried to spell he meant no harm. A smile sharks would wear.
“I guess?” I shrugged, trying to end the conversation with indifference.
It didn’t work out that way.
“Oh, sweet!” he seemed excited like a kid receiving a new toy for Christmas. “I’m Cronus, by the way.”
Yeah. I know.
His smile didn’t waver, and he was being too kind. Not the type of benevolence shown as common courtesy, but the amiable façade shown to get someone to do something for you.
I wanted no part of it, but I was curious about the trophies. This is the first time I have noticed them, and I've jumped through over a hundred timelines. Yet this is the first timeline that there were trophies.
“Vriska,” I responded, showing a similar smile.
“Vriska…” he pronounced. He seemed to question the origin, but then presumably gave up. “That’s a cool name for a chick.”
“Thanks,” I forced myself to say. I felt like vomiting at this kind act. Can’t I force him to answer my questions?
“You a freshman?” I nodded and he straightened his back. “Cool, I’m a senior! You’re in my math class right? You must be smart then: a freshman in Algebra 2. I mean, not unheard of, but still cool.”
“I guess,” I shrugged off his compliment. Weak ass compliments like those can’t tame me. Try harder Cronus. Where are the picking-up-girl techniques I heard you had?
“If you have any questions, feel free to ask!” he offered, trying to keep up conversation.
His mistake.
“I do, actually,” I said, surprising him. I pointed at the trophies. “What are these?”
He seemed alarmed, a face that spelled: couldn’t you have picked an easier question?
“Trophies?” he tried.
I rephrased my question. “Yes, but, what purpose do they serve?”
“Well, uh, I’m not so sure myself,” he concluded. “I don’t remember them being there.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. To him, at least.
“To be honest,” he continued. “I don’t remember much about this school. Everything feels kind of hazy. Almost… fake?” He looked confused for a moment, before laughing shyly. “I guess I’m being weird by saying that, huh?”
I shook my head. “Not as weird as others make me seem,” I reassured. He laughed once again.
“Then we ‘weird’ people should stick together.” Crap. I almost fell for it.
“Oh, uh, thanks for the offer, but…”
“What? Come on! We’re the same, right? It won’t be too bad,” he said, trying to convince me.
I smiled as sweetly as I could. Lies, I know. “I’m not really interested. Thanks for the offer though-”
“What? Why not? Is there something wrong with me?”
I cringed. Oh, you have no idea.
“No, nothing, I’m just not interested,” I tried to say as innocently as possible. He didn’t buy it.
“So you really are as big of a bitch that people say you are,” he retorted angrily. Great. This is what I get for being kind.
No more, Ms. Nice Serket. Shit is about to go down.
“Look, Cronus-”
“Is something wrong, Cronus?”
Why is it when shit is about to go down, someone comes by and ruins it for me? Not fair. That Karma is getting really lame right about now. Although, I will admit this was for the best.
Cronus looked down at Terezi and Rose who had intervened at the right time. I glanced at Rose who placed a hand on my shoulder, then at Terezi, who looked as though she were about to attack Cronus.
“Nothing! Vriska and I were just talking,” he laughed. “Right, Vriska?” His eyes were begging for forgiveness, even more so than before.
Well, he was Kanaya’s brother, this time around…
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
He took that a signal to run. “Yeah! Well, I will see you around, Vriska!” He turned and walked away without waiting for my response.
Rose looked at me expectantly.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“Sorry, did you say something, Vriska?” Rose quipped. I groaned.
“Rose,” Terezi shushed her with one word. Damn. Newfound respect. “You’re welcome, Vriska.”
We stood there for moments, awkwardly staring at each other. She looked like she wanted to say more. I decided it was high time to make her speak up.
“What’s up, Terezi?”
She glanced at Rose alarmed, then back at me, trying to keep a cool face. She failed.
“What do you mean? Nothing is wrong!” she answered nervously. I raised a brow.
“Really?”
She looked over at Rose again, who mimicked the same expression as I.
“It’s nothing…”
“You helped me,” I said. “I rather not stay in debt.”
“You don’t have to worry! I don’t help people expecting things in return.”
“Good news for you, today I’m being generous, so neither do I.”
She looked defeated. “You’re different.”
I was taken aback. “That is what’s bothering you?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I don’t know. I feel weird around you, Vriska. It’s not hate, but I can’t say I like you either? I mean, no offence, but you’re a jerk.”
I shrugged. “It’s a quirk of mine.” Rose grinned.
“Maybe you are infatuated with her, Terezi. I wonder if it is the mysterious powers of love,” Rose joked. At least, I hoped she was.
When I looked at Terezi’s face, I noticed it turning a shade of red. My face was soon dyed a similar blush.
“Uh, so what were you and Cronus talking about?” Terezi asked, quickly changing the subject. Nice move.
I, once again, pointed at the trophies. “What’s the story behind these?”
Rose looked at the trophies, showing the same puzzled expression. “I’m not sure? I don’t remember them here before.” She looked at Terezi.
“Oh, I’ve seen them around here before,” she responded. “I just don’t remember how long they’ve been here.” She approached the casing and stared at the trophies. Rose did the same.
“The scribed lettering is illegible,” Rose commented, fascinated by the new discovery.
“I guess this calls for an investigation!” Terezi cackled.
“Good luck with that,” I asserted. I then realized how long I was standing in that spot, wondering the whereabouts of trophies that are not related to the plot in any way or form. What do they say anyway? I squint at one, once again, hoping I wouldn’t be interrupted this time.
Vriska Serket. I blinked and read over it again.
Vriska Serket.
I glanced over at the second one.
Once again: Vriska Serket.
That couldn’t be right. I looked at the year, and all said the same date. October 25, 2012.
Title: Lone survivor.
Another: Murderer.
King of the Hill.
“…iska?”
I realized they were referring to me.
“You okay, Vriska?” Terezi asked, worried.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Just rea- trying to read the names.”
“Any luck?” Rose inquired.
“Nope,” I lied. I looked back at the trophies. My name upon the majority. The others bore the name Gamzee Makara.
I sighed. This is all too much for one day.
“You sure you’re fine, Vriska?” Rose asked, concerned.
I shrugged. “A little tired.”
“Oh, then you should hurry home,” Terezi advised. I nodded agreeing with her offer.
“Then I’ll see you guys.” They nodded.
“See you around,” Rose waved.
“Good night,” Terezi said.
I turned and walked away. I was out of the school when I remembered my text. A part of me did not want to view it, but some other part commanded me to. I took out the phone and flipped it open.
There were no new messages.
Instead, there were three notifications from an app. An app named SGRUB.
I stared at my phone, not moving from my spot. The app was running. It had been running ever since sixth period.
Alarmed, I closed my phone. I eventually reopened it. SGRUB. I opened the app.
Mission Status:
View | Cancel
I clicked on ‘view’. The screen changed to a countdown to October 25. It also showed a status bar with a percentage. Underneath were two categories: Quests available and Quests completed.
Was Lord English trying to fuck with me? I never heard of a quest system before. This is the first time I’ve noticed it, at least. The two notifications I had were from each category. I pressed Quest Completed first.
Quests Completed > Quest # 1 completed, survive murder attempt. Reward: Friendship.
What a load of bullshit, I thought. I almost fell for the unrealistic goals. That is, until I realized, that no normal app would know that I was almost killed. Nor would any normal app know that the reward I received was the friendship exhibited only moments ago. I decided to look at the first category.
Available Quests> Quest # 2 Pending, Go to the yellow house on the block adjacent to Skaia Café. Reward: Clarity.
I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try. If this quest system were a part of the game, the reward would be helpful. I pressed the quest.
Quest Available:
Accept|Cancel
I pressed accept, deciding to try the system out as I walked to my destination.
That is when shit really went down, but this time, there was no one there to stop it.