Realistic or Modern Miskatonic Academy Episode 01: Autumn Days, The Curtain Lifts

[Corinne Skye]

While Claude spoke to Taylor, Skye tried to get Samantha's attention away from Samantha's rival. "Are you okay, Samantha? Um, I'm Skye, I'm a senior."


"I-I'm okay now," Samantha said, her voice shaky. "But it was so scary and it hurt so much."


"Why don't we go to the Volunteer Club's clubroom? It's just down the next hall over. We'll make you some tea and see if we can figure out how this happened."


"S-sure," she replied, getting on her feet rather shakily "Thank you. All of you."


"Ah, let me help you," Skye said, as she made a move to assist Samantha.


Before she could though, Samantha shot Skye with a look warning her to stay away, telling that she didn't require any of her help.


Skye frowned at the look, but let it pass without comment. Over her shoulder, Samantha saw an unusual sight - Taylor audibly praised the Volunteer Club for helping her, and kissed Claude on the cheek, before turning and departing with her posse.


Krause started to snicker, but Skye didn't turn to see what he was laughing at.


That bastard, he's on her side isn't he?Samantha thought to herself Well, I'll just Skye on my side then.


"H-hey Skye," Samantha said out loud "Th-that guy who you're with, what's his relationship w-with Taylor?"


Skye blinked. She just got assaulted and that's what she's curious about? "Who, Claude?" Skye looked over her shoulder, seeing Claude talk to Paul. "Um, they met at the Halloween ball."


"O-oh," she said.


Now time for the finishing blow!


"Because I just saw Taylor kissing him," she said, feigning embarrasment.


Skye smirked and then quickly quashed it. Suddenly Hunter's misfortune that night made so much more sense! But still, Taylor wasn't the kind of girl Skye wanted messing with Claude... "Um, don't worry about it," she said, a little off-guard. "She's not his type."


"I-if you say so," Samantha said "But I would still be careful with her. Talk to me if she gives you any trouble, okay?"


"Um, yeah, sure." Skye changed the subject. "C'mon, I'll show you to the clubroom."

 

[Paul Grayson]

Skye would not appreciate me using the various items I have in my pockets, so I have no choice but to talk to the she devil again. If only I could exorcise her, that would drastically lower the amount problems in my life. Claude thought as he walked towards Taylor.


Taylor leaned forward as Claude approached. "Oh, I remember you!" she said, coyly. "Claude, right?"


I'd rather not remember you though


"Correct," Claude said "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're getting in the way of volunteer club business."


Taylor folded her arms, thinking. "We have every right to be in our own school. We're standing well away from poor Samantha." She giggled a little. "I must look so mean for laughing at her, hmm? It's not really my intent. That bitch has been nothing but mean to me, so I must say I'm not sorry to see her get what's coming to her. So my friends and I will just stay over here and not block your way!"


"I do not find it in my ability to care," Claude replied in the same monotone. "What I can see is that you are aggravating Samantha and this is getting in the way of my duties as the volunteer club president. Please sort out your problems at a later time when you won't be in my way. At least wait for the teachers to arrive so I may leave before you begin squabbling."


Claude crossed his arms to indicate that he was not budging.


"Well," Taylor said in a slightly louder tone that Skye and Samantha were sure to overhear, "since your Volunteer's Club was so helpful to me in the past, I'll get out of your way." She leaned forward and kissed Claude's cheek, then turned to the posse of men with her. "Cmon, boys, let's not bother Claude; he's a good man."


Claude's arms fell to his side, but his hands were clenched in fists.


I'll kill her one day, I swear.


Paul narrowed his eyes as he picked up his step ladder, "I feel like I'm missing out on something here."


"She's nothing but trouble," Claude replied "It's better to be missing out."


Paul scratched his chin, "I wasn't talking about that girl,"


Shocking revelation!


"I was more talking about how the other girl gets hung from her hair on a sign without a stepladder, has no memory of how she got up there, and the growing crowd watching her didn't get a teacher or attempt to help, 'sides from you two of course."


"Well, ahem," Claude cleared his throat and gathered his bearings "Yes that is strange. Do you want to come to the volunteer club room and discuss this in further detail?"


"Sure I guess, let me put this away and grab some of my things, I'll be down there after I do a bit of spot mopping," Paul headed off down the hallway.


"I'll be seeing you then," Claude said as Paul walked away.


He walked to Skye now that he had finished dealing with Taylor.


"Are you ready to leave?" he asked the two.


"Yeah, let's go." Skye said.

 

[Corinne Skye]

Paul had finished hitting a few troublesome spots with his mop and began to drag his bucket and cart towards the club room to meet with the kids. He made a quick detour to the sign that the girl had been hanging from after a little bit of prodding on the sign, with the mop handle, he satisfied himself with the knowledge that it hadn't been loosened from the wall and continued on his way.


Skye led Samantha into the clubroom, walking over and putting the teakettle back on its burner. Her coffee was probably cold by now, too, but oh well.


"Would you like some tea?" Claude asked Samantha as she entered.


"Yes please," she said demurly.


Paul parked his cart outside the club room's door and entered, closing the door behind him.


"A hello there Paul," Claude said "I have no apples with me, but would apple tea suffice?"


"Er... no thanks Claude, I'm fine." What is it with these kids and apples?


Skye sat across from Samantha. "So tell us what happened - from the beginning."


"Well, like I said," she replied with the confidence she usually had back in her voice. "I was walking past the classroom when I feel like my hair is being lifted. Then I was suddenly suspended from the class sign. It all happened in a flash to be honest."


She took a sip of tea when she finished saying her part.


Skye frowned. "And you didn't see anyone? Were you alone in the hallway?"


"If there was someone there, I sure didn't see them," Samantha said.


Skye glanced at Claude and Paul. She suddenly got lifted into the air, had her hair tied to a sign, and never noticed an attacker? It's doubtful a single human could pull that off - for lack of hands if nothing else. Sure sounds supernatural to me. She didn't voice the thought in front of Samantha, just giving them a meaningful look.


Paul pulled up a chair and sat down at the table, "That's a little bit different from what you said in the hallway. You acted almost like you had blacked out and woken up hanging from there. To be honest, I'm suprised it didn't just pull out of the wall with the weight of you hanging on it and flailing around."


Is he calling me fat? HE IS ISN'T HE? HE'S WITH HER ISN'T HE? Samantha thought to herself.


She was about to say something in response when Claude cut in.


"She had just gone through a painful experience so it is understandable that she wasn't completely coheremt when you found her."


Internally, he added The sooner we can get her to leave the room, the sooner we can discuss the obviously supernatural cause of this. Making a fight will only make it take longer.


Skye nodded along, looking at Samantha. "The Volunteer Club will look into this, Samantha, and make sure the culprit is punished. Would you like us to get someone to walk you to your dorm, or are you okay?"


"I'll be fine," Samantha said as she got up "Thanks."


As she exited the room, she added "Also call me Sam."


"Alright. Be safe." Skye waited until the door closed behind her, then looked at Claude and Paul. "Sooo...ghost?"


"A mischevious but otherwise benign poltergeist was my first guess," Claude agreed with his hand on his chin.


Skye sat up in her chair, frowning. "Then I guess we should prepare for an exorcism. I only know about the theory of exorcism; you're more experienced in its practice."


"I don't have much experience with poltergeists or ghosts, so I can't say for sure. I haven't really done many exorcisms. What would we need to try to chase something like that out of here?" With that, Paul scooted another chair closer and put his feet up on it and leaned back. "What are we looking at, like sage, crosses, rosemary, a few pints of holy water or something?"


Skye looked thoughtful. "I believe the idea is to locate our ghost or whatever it is, attempt to corner it, and then banish it back to where it came from. We may also want to investigate how it got here in the first place, if possible. Claude has more experience at actually doing this kind of thing than I do, though."


"My usual method of immoblization will be useless against a non-corporeal entity so we come up with a different method to bind it," Claude said.


"Well, how do you normally bind them? Something like a summoning spell but in reverse?" Paul put his hands over his face and sighed, "I feel like I'm getting into some things I probably shouldn't."


"It's something like that," Skye said. "You have to neutralize whatever magic kept it here, and then magically order it back from whence it came."


Suddenly, memories of a movie he had once watched came to the forefront of Claude's mind.


"Do you remember that movie with those ghost hunters in New York that was released a few years ago?" he asked, eyes lighting up as if he just hatched a brilliant plan "I'm thinking of using alchemy to create a device similar to what they used to capture ghosts."


Skye stared across the table at him. "You've got to be kidding."


"I have to say, Claude, that sounds a bit more then a bit silly."


Unlike before, the shine in Claude's eyes refused to leave.


"I must insist," he said slowly getting faster the longer he spoke while keeping his deadpan tone "It is quite the ingenious device. If we can recreate it using alchemical means, we would have a convenient way to trap non corporeal entities in a secure and reusable container. In fact, I would not be surprised if the writers of the script were aware of the troubles and tribulations facing today's excorcists. It is quite a modern and progressive film if viewed from this perspective and it is quite appreciated. I believe that putting aside such brilliant ideas no matter what the source is a massive and reprehensible waste and those who would ignore such an innovative idea should fee-"


"We get it," Skye interrupted. "I'm just saying, that movie is fiction..."


"I want you to ensure such a device wouldn't pose a problem for me, Skye," Krause insisted.


"I don't even know where we'd get the plutonium anyway." Paul mumbled as he got up from the table and stretched his back. "How do you normally trap them Claude?"


"A non corporeal entity, I usually lure it into a magic circle I prepared hours earlier but that takes time we don't have," Claude said "For something corporeal, I use these."


He took out a handful of his toothpick sized crosses that he kept on him and handed them over to Paul.


Skye frowned, looking up as if thinking. "Actually, if we could figure out what caused this ghost to attack, we could possibly lure it into a magic circle. Also, we're just assuming it's a ghost - this device wouldn't work if it's simply an invisible body, right?"


Paul rolled the items around in his hands, "Skye's got a point. It could be a person as well. Whoever's doing this could also have summoned that Dire Rat, though that might be a stretch. We can't rule out malacious intent."


"If that's the case," Skye said, "we have a rogue summoner on the loose. That would be problematic. A summoner like that could be anyone." Her words prompted a fit of laughter from Krause, but she kept a straight face.


Paul got up and headed for the door, he then opened it and grabbed his thermos from the cart. He closed the door and headed back to the table, "I mean, we can't even rule out Samantha. For all we know she could have targeted herself first to take the blame off."


"Let's investigate more likely causes before turning to conspiracy," Skye said, shaking her head.


"I'm just putting it out there." With a twist he popped the lid off the thermos and the smell of coffee filled the room, "Shit, I just remembered I left my mug. Do you guys have any cups in here?"


Skye nodded towards Claude's tea set.


"Oh, sweet. Thanks." Paul quickly poured a cup full and started to head back, "Uh... either of you guys want some?"


"I have my own," Skye said, scooping up her thermos. "Anyway, we'll look into this ghost and try to get rid of it."


"I will stick with my tea thank you," Claude said before taking a sip.

 

[Roland Strom]

Dr. Holly stood at the front of his classroom, replacing the last slide on the overhead projector and turning the machine off. "Okay, that's enough lesson for today. Be sure to read chapter seven before Monday."


Nobody got up. It was still several minutes before the end of class. The anxiety was almost palpable in the air - a major partner project had been announced, and Holly promised they would know who their partners were before the weekend.


Holly passed copies of a sheet around the room, and groans or hisses of enthusiasm echoed up and down the rows of seats as people found who they'd be studying with on what subject for the next three weeks. But Skye's name wasn't listed. Had Dr. Holly overlooked her? It was bad enough her grades - and her goal of valedictorian! - were even partly in the hands of another student, but she could at least know who the damn student is!


Holly waited until the class had a chance to go over the information. "Skye, Roland, please come speak to me after class." Now they both knew who their partner is. "Everyone else is dismissed."


Roland? Who was that again? Skye glanced across the room from her seat at the far side wall. Roland looked over at her as well. Upon locking eyes with her, he decided to wave.


Oh, that guy. She forced herself to keep a neutral expression. Didn't Krause say he was another valedictorian candidate...? She nodded in response to his gesture


After class, both of them approached Dr. Holly. He stood until the students filtered out, and then walked to his desk, holding up a pack of cigarettes and looking at it contemplatively.


"You asked to see us, sir?" Skye said.


Holly nodded. "You're both candidates for valedictorian, correct?"


"I don't really care about that." said Roland, "but yes."


The irritation that crossed Skye's face was tangible. She worked her ass off - and summoned a demon! - to have a shot at valedictorian! Not caring about it seemed almost offensive, like it was meant to challenge her. "I am as well, sir."


Holly arched his eyebrows. "That's why I didn't list you with the others. I randomly assigned everyone else, but it would be unfair to hinge your potential title on someone who had less to lose if they phoned one in." He held up a sheet of paper. "I selected this topic for the two of you."


"Can we know the topic please?" Roland asked.


"If you were in charge of the British government in 1765, what would you have done to prevent the American Revolution?" The same question was printed on the paper, along with a list of expectations for a long essay paper and a speech on the topic. "I expect you to keep in mind how the British government viewed the colonies at the time and consider an answer that would have been, hmm, how to put this - in character, for them."


"A big part of the revolutions success was French assistance since both them and Britain were rivals. It would have been very useful to either try to improve relationships for the sake of politics or sabotage their relationship with the revolutionairies," Roland mused aloud.


"But the revolutionaries weren't a faction yet in 1765...and Britain had just pulled off a major military victory against the French." Skye said, with a competitive edge in her voice.


"Right, the expulsion of France from North America, that removes the prospect of trying to improve relationships out but not sabotaging French/Revolutionary relationships."


"It's good to see that you're already discussing the subject matter. I expect great things from both of you," said Holly.


"Of course. Thank you, sir."


"You have about three weeks to work it out. You two are dismissed," Holly said.


Skye reluctantly looked over and regarded Roland, already turning to leave for the hall. "Well, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Skye."


He stopped and turned around to face her. "I think I recognize you, you were the succubus at the halloween ball right?" after a pause he added "that you failed to pull off."


"Wha-" Skye stumbled a little in mid-stride, and Krause started laughing. "I was a demon! Not a succubus!"


"They why did you have a cleavage window and high heels?"


"You make it sound like I was dressed like Taylor - that junior who was asking everyone who she was dressed like." With a pause she added, "And I pulled it off perfectly fine!"


"Didn't meet her, sorry about touching a nerve. Were you unable to find any demon costumes without those?"


Skye folded her arms. "It was the most modest one I could find, and even then I wore an undershirt under it." Skye was thrown by his tone. In the space of a breath he had gone from insulting her appearance to apologizing for touching a nerve. That didn't seem to make sense. What was up with that?


"Anyway, I'm going to the library to start researching. Are you going to come with me or should we have a specific time when we will meet?"


Skye shook her head. "We'll get together some time next week and discuss the broad position to take for the assignment, and then we can research the fine points. The week before it's due we'll actually write the paper and speech."


"That sounds good, but I'll ask you for more specific times later."

 

[Roland Strom]

After a bit of a walk towards the library, the witch decided to speak up. "What a nice chance you have. She put so much effort into valedictorian, you can ruin it," as usual, Roland tried to ignore her.


Upon reaching the library, he checked the system for a book on military tactics throughout the ages, flipping through to the section that matched the time period he was looking through. After grabing some loose leaf paper out of his bag, he proceeded to write down notes. Once he had enough information, he would look at the military situation and stratedgies of the revolutionaries and then try to determine the best tactics for adapting to both.


"Rolllland." He tried to ignore her. "Rollllllland." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the witch's false avatar put her hand on his fingers. She wrote "Blow away in a storm, Roland Strom."


Roland had put up with her presence enough to not shout at her in public but his thumb moved over to his pencil and started pushing against it. When he started hearing the low cracking of it starting to break he stopped himself and tried to continue on as if nothing had happened.

 

[Paul Grayson]

Friday, 4th of November - after school


Paul slipped through a back door with two duffel bags and locked it behind him, he walked slowly to the basement and unlocked it pulling the door behind him as quietly as he could. A quick twist of the lock and all was quiet again. Once inside the basement he flicked on the light switch and went to work, combining an assortment of techniques and practical know how he dumped the container of holy water into the dehumidifier then he plugged it in. He repeated this with two other dehumidifiers and then set to work on a magic circle.


Using a few tricks he had learned over the years he traced the circle using a homemade compass and began on the intricate series of inner runes. The circle was designed to function like a sonar pulse. Throwing a burst of magical energy out in all directions. Paul wasn't one hundred percent sure that it would bring a ghost to the circle, but it should at least ruffle it's feathers and if luck would have it, banish it.


After an hour the circle was completed, all he had left to do was charge the spell circle and he just happened to have a nearby breaker box. Paul reached in his duffel bag and pulled out some number 12 romex. He buried one end of the wire within the section of the circle that was set up to convert electrical power into magical energy. A few turns of a screwdriver later and the other leads were wired into the spare 15 amp breaker. Paul looked away and shielded his face as he threw the breaker. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but after a few minutes a dull glow seemed to come from the magic circle as it began to charge. All it would need is a few quick marks of chalk, to finish a few various runes, and then it would activate. Paul unrolled a large rug and placed it over the circle. He then gathered up his few expended supplies and left the basement, heading for home.

 

[Corinne Skye]

Saturday, 5 November


Foresight is what separated the successful from the poor. That’s what Taylor’s father had always taught her. If you failed to plan, then you planned to fail.


She stepped out of the shower, scooping up the large, luxurious beach towel off the rack and wrapping it around her body. The mirror was fogged to the point of uselessness, but she giggled and smiled at her vague, hazy form in the mirror. “Good morning, Taylor,” she teased to herself. “What all do we have to do today?”


The TV was already running Christmas ads. It was cold outside, and getting to be that time of year. And Taylor did not relish the thought of being alone over the holidays. That would be sad, and lonely, and worse yet, it would diminish the number of presents she would get!


She had been coasting for a while, sliding through several quick flings, none of which lasted more than a few days. But it was time to find someone more steady for now, so that come Christmas-time their relationship would be months old, something he couldn't phone in over the holidays. But who? It had to be someone she liked, of course. And someone worthwhile. She could get any boy to like her, with enough effort, but so few were even worth trying.


It was Saturday, and many students in her grade would be out and about in Sentinel Hill today. It was a good day to keep watch in town, see who seemed to be spending freely, who did or didn't have a job, who did or didn't have a girlfriend...that was important information.


And of course, a boyfriend wasn't the only friend worth having. Most of her friends looked up to her, and those were relationships that needed maintenance, too. She'd spend most of the day with her friends; November was a good month to make sure one was on good terms with one's friends. After Thanksgiving, suddenly trying to reconcile differences would be too obvious!


She dried herself off and lovingly tended to her long, blond hair on autopilot, her mind turning over and examining her present status. She wasn't on the best terms with her parents...but as long as she kept her grades up, they would be fine. She made a mental note to call them, though; "fine" may be good enough at most times, but she had been buttering them up over the new '89 Firebird for months now, and "fine" wouldn't convince Santa to deliver a convertible. There were no major dramas in her clique of friends - that in itself was a minor miracle! She was single. Taylor hated being single, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Sure, if she really tried she could fix that by this afternoon, but she needed a real relationship, not a fling. And sadly, that took time, even for her.


It took an hour, but at the end of it, she was dressed, showered, and ready for the day. She just grabbed a granola bar from the kitchenette of her apartment, not bothering to cook, and walked out the door. It was cold outside, but it wasn't that cold, so she only took a light coat. It was hard to look your best bundled under too many layers, after all. And if she didn't look her best, what was the point?

 

[TacitLaurel]

November Saturday 5th Morning


Claude was currently lying flat on his back trying to lift exactly 200 pounds off his chest. He wasn't in a life threatening situation and in fact, he was the one who put himself in this position. Claude was in the school gym on the bench press trying to lift 200 pounds and set a new maximum. A small crowd of gym goers (mostly the football team and a few people from other athletic clubs) there seeing if he could set a new max today. Even one as socially dense as him could see that a few were doubting he could do it, but on closer inspection it seemed that they weren't regulars so they didn't know much better.


Claude took a breath and concentrated. Slowly, the bar went up.


I'm doing it!


With a new burst of energy, he lowered the bar again and lifted it again 4 more times for a total of 5 reps before racking the bar and letting himself rest for a bit.


The regulars were already congratulating him while the newcomers were somewhat amazed that someone his age could bench press something so heavy. He heard one or two of them muttering about steroids, but he ignored it. He always had been big. Along with the canines he kept hidden away, the unruly hair and his eyes, he was told that he was scary by all the other children. Well he didn't need them. The family servants were friends enough for him.


He sat up and was immediately attacked by a volley of backslaps and enthusiastic congratulations. On closer inspection, it seemed that he was completely surrounded by the football team.


"You have to share your routine with me sometime," one of them said.


"What supplements do you use dude," another said.


"You should totally help us train sometime," yet another said.


I don't understand, Claude thought to himself slightly panicked. All I did was benchpress something heavy. Why is everyone being so nice?


The football players had encircled him and were closing in. All the exits were sealed off. It seemed that he would have to deal with this again today.


"Hey, great job," he heard one a familiar voice say.


It was his roommate Michael Sims, a football player and boxing enthusiast. Claude braced himself for what was coming next.


"So, how about joining the football team," Michael said not ashamed that him and the team were only trying to butter up Claude.


"Once again, I'll have to refuse," Claude replied, his hands in a placating gesture "I'm simply too busy with my club to join the football team."


An "aww" of disappointment resonated through the football team as they walked away to go do their own excercises, leaving only Michael and Claude.


"Come on man," Michael said as he sat down next to Claude "What's so good about that crappy club anyway? Don't tell me you still have the hots for that chick."


Claude looked away, blushing slightly. He had long ago gotten used to Michael's rude way of talking. It was just the person he was, no offense was meant.


"It's been two years," Michael said "I don't think she cares anymore. Just let it go. I mean, you are the only member of the club and nobody really comes around asking for your help anyway. So how about it? Join the football team pretty please?"


Michael gave Claude doe eyes.


"Actually, I do have a new member and we've already gotten a request for help once already," Claude said perking up, smugness literally radiating from him 'In fact, we are working on a request right now."


"Aww damn," Michael said disappointed "And here I was sure that my patented puppy eyes technique would crack that hard shell of yours."


He then immediatley went back to normal.


"So who's the new member?" he asked.


"She is a senior. Corinne Skye," Claude replied "She prefers being called Skye."


"Ooooh," Michael said before suddenly adopting a sly expression "Roped yourself a girl huh Claude? Are you finally over what's her face? Is she hot?"


Claude looked slightly scandalized at the implications.


"N-nothing like that Michael," Claude said. "She came to me wanting to join the club."


"She came to you huh?" Michael replied without missing a beat still wearing his sly expression "Got yourself an admirer? You always do shoot for older girls anyway you horndog."


Claude's eyes narrowed. He was done with discussion of this subject.


"There is nothing of the sort going on between us nor will there ever be," Claude ended that particular discussion with finality.


"Alright alright, I'm just teasing Claude," Michael said with a small grin now. "No need to be so defensive."


Claude sighed.


"Do you not have weights to lift?" he asked.


"Nah, I'm just about done," Michael replied nonchalantly, waving his hands dismissively "Just thought I would hang out with you a bit."


"I am just about done here," Claude said as he got up to go to the locker room to change "So let us get changed and then we can 'hang out' "


"Oh you're being so informal," Michael said as he got up and followed Claude "My little Claude is growing up so fast."


He wiped a fake tear from his eye as Claude shook his head at his antics.


They exited the weight room and were heading to the locker room when Michael suddenly started running. Before Claude could ask him why he was running, Michael shouted.


"CAPTAIN! HEY MEATHEAD!"


Said "Meathead" turned around and noticed the two. It was Timothy Glenn, the captain of the football team. His face was nothing special, but his athletic skills were amazing. He was supposedly also quite good student.


Timothy "Meathead" Glenn looked over at Michael's shout. "What's up?"


'Well me and Claude here are gonna go to Sentinel Hill and shoot the piss," Michael said while pointing his thumb at Claude. "Do you want to join in?"


Claude gave a weak wave.


"Hello,"


Timothy waved as they approached. "Hey, Claude. Sure, I'd be happy to join you."


 



The door to the boy's locker room opened and Claude and Michael exited, no longer in their gym clothes. Michael was wearing jeans and a white sweater with a brown coat while Claude was wearing the Academy uniform with a red jacket (he didn't have any casual clothes with him because he wasn't planning on going to Sentinel Hill that day). Meathead was waiting for the the two outside the locker room.


"You two look hungry," Meathead said. "It's a nice day out, I say we jog to Sentinel Hill and find a bite to eat."


Claude perked up immediately at the mention of food. Michael nodded his head.


"Yeah, some food to eat would be pretty good. I think Claude agrees too."


And so it was decided that the three would go get some food. Meathead led the way through the hall, talking as they started out. "So what are you two up to today?"


"Well me an' Claude here were in the weight room and both of us were just about done so I decided to hang out together 'cause none of us has anything better to do," Michael said "And when we saw you in the hallway, I decided to invite you too. I mean you seem like you've got stuff on your mind. You need a chance to goof off ya know?"


Meathead shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing."


"Nothin? You look like some movie guy who's lost his one and only true love staring at the horizon and all." Michael said unconvinced.


"True love? You've been watching too many chick flicks, Michael." He couldn't quite conceal a defensive tone in his voice.


"Well maybe problems that plague us common teen boys are something that the football captain doesn't have to deal with," Michael said "And by that I mean getting dates. You have to know the mind of the enemy before you can attain victory or something. Some Sonny Zoo guy said that. Right Claude?"


"Sun Tzu," Claude corrected.


I think the quote is misattributed though or at least not word for word Claude added in his mind


"Hence the saying," Meathead said, "if you know yourself and know the enemy, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. That's from The Art of War."


"Oooh, got anymore tips for us commoners Mr. Studmuffin," Michael said with a sly grin.


"If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat," he continued, in a mocking tone towards Michael. "If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."


Claude silently commited Meathead's words to memory in case they would be of use later on.


"You hurt me so," Michael said in mock hurt as he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and pretended to stagger backwards.


"Hey, the classics of strategy are important," Meathead said. "See over there?" He pointed past Michael's shoulder.


"See what?" he said turning around.


Meathead threw his arm around Michael's neck, pulling him backwards and sending both of them toppling onto the floor. "Sun Tzu says, all warfare is based on deception!"


"Hey no fair you asshole!' Michael said surprised and at the same time amused.


He rolled over and got into a wrestling stance.


"I might not be on the Wrestling Team, but I watch WWF on TV," Michael said before switching to a Hulk Hogan voice "Come on Brother! Bring it on!"


"What do you three idiots think you're doing?" a young (if bratty) female voice said imperiously, as the two of them mock wrestled in the hall while Claude looked lost and tried to get close enough to the tangle of limbs seperate the two.


The source of the voice was a short girl of Asian descent with pig tails who had just turned the corner. Who now had her arms crossed across her chest.


"Studying military theory," Meathead blurted.


"Well you can 'study military theory' outside!' the girl replied in a huff.


"Anne is scary when she gets mad," Claude said to the two who were wrestling on the floor.


"Anne?" the two said confused.


"Anne Chow," Claude replied "Last year she-"


"WHO HAS A SHORT FUSE?" the girl named Anne fumed as she advanced on the trio.


"Oh she's coming closer," Michael said "I wonder what the midget wants."


"I haven't seen her around before though," Meathead said trying to remember who the girl was.


At the last second, she changed directions to Claude and kicked him in the shin. He supressed a grimace. Now that she was closer, Michael was able to see the badge on her lapel and...


"A fourth grader huh?" Michael said 'I didn't know you liked them this young."


"Huh?" Claude replied smartly hoping on one foot and rubbing his kicked shin to relieve the pain.


"We might be friends and all," Michael said in a monotone with a disgusted look on his face "But in light of your tastes and preferences I would prefer it if you would stop talking to me and not approach me in public."


"N-no it's not like that." Claude said trying to defend himself.


"You should feel disgusted with yourself," Anne said looking down on Michael who was currently on the floor.


"I know, right?" Meathead said, to Anne. "He forgot the basic strategems."


"Basic manners too," she said in a huff still keeping her arms crossed.


"Could you find it within yourself to forgive us Anne?" Claude said diplomatically "I'm sure that Michael didn't expect you to get his joke."


"You callin me stupid or something bub?" the girl said in a low dangerous voice while her shook in restrained anger as she raised it.


"N-no nothing like that," Claude said obviously lying, worried that she would go berserk "You are the smartest 10 year old that I have ever had the pleasure to run into haha."


After a second, Anne finally lowered her fist and was back to her haughty arms crossed pose.


'W-well I'll let you and your friends pass this time," she said aloofly "But it better not happen again."


She switched to a more excited tone befitting her age "Now Claude you owe me a game of Connect 4 so you'd better be ready to get your butt handed to you later."


The girl walked away from the trio with a spring in her step.


Dun, dun, dun♫ Claude thought in his head, mimicking a video game he once played Obstacle passed. You may now continue in your quest brave hero.


"Who," Michael started "WHO was that?"


Meathead laughed. "Maybe we should recruit her for the wrestling team or something, huh?"


"As I attempted to say earlier, that was Anne Chow," Claude said back in his usual voice "She is currently a 4th grader and last year, she came to the Volunteer Club with a problem. After I dealt with it, she seems to have gotten attached to me. She runs into me occasionally in the halls and tags along with me."


Because she wants to find out more about magic he added in his head.


"That explains why you were so animated and stuff talkin to her," Michael said standing up from the floor and brushing himself off with his hands.


"Animated?" Claude asked.


"Animated," Meathead agreed. "Shall we continue?"


"Yeah we should," Michael said "Come on Claude."


The trio continued on their trip to Sentinel Hill.


- - -


As the trio arrived in Sentinel Hill, they paused, catching their breath from jogging and wrapping up their conversation. "...I'm just saying," Meathead said between breaths, "there's nothing between Moxie and I!"


"There is too," Michael said bent over with his hands on his knees "I mean that chick turned down Bill almost immediatley and here you two are makin eyes at eachother and hanging out together at the library. Poor Bill hasn't even been back in the library after she rejected him."


"If hanging out together with a cute redhead means we're in a relationship, we should be grilling Claude," Meathead shot back. "What's that chick's name? The one with the glasses." Skye sneezed in her dorm.


Claude pointed to himself as if trying to confirm that the conversation had turned to him. Unlike the other two he was not as affected by the jog and could stand upright if breathing a bit laboriously.


"Yes, you!" Meathaid said.


"The relationship between Skye and myself is a purely professional one," Claude said "Or at least as professonional as a school club can be. There is no romantic subtext whatsoever."


"Reeeeally now? You mean you spend all that time alone afterschool with a cute redhead in a closed room and nothing happens at all?" Michael said, his mischievious grin returning.


"I don't understand what you're implying," Claude said, Michaels insinuations flying over his head completely.


"I don't understand what you're implying," Meathead repeated, in a mocking tone. "C'mon, man, nobody puts up that much denial if there's nothing there."


"B-but there is nothing there," Claude said starting to get confused.


"Where's the proof," Michael said uncomfortably close to Claude "Do you have anyone to back up your alibi?"


He had watched some Drebin guy on TV and was fairly certain in his grasp of police procedure.


"We can ask Skye," Claude said nervously because of how close Michael's face was to his.


"Maybe we will," Meathead said. "And if not, why not? Is she seeing anyone else?"


"Weren't we going to get food," Claude suddenly said clumsily trying to change the subject of the conversation.


"Ooh, trying to change the topic," Meathead observed, towards Michael.


"Yeah don't think we're dumb enough to let y-" Michael was suddenly interrupted by his realization that Meathead had done the exact same thing a few minutes earlier.


"Hey!" he yelled pointing his finger Meathead "Speak for yourself! We were talking about you and Moxie! We demand answers, right Claude?"


Claude gave a non committal grunt.


"I play chess with her, that's all," Meathead said. "Although Paula keeps telling me we should get together."


'Paula Powell?" Claude asked.


"Yep."


The two Powell siblings were on the Volunteer Club's watchlist, Claude remembered. The aloof and proud Paula and her wanna be cassanova brother Bill. Despite their physique, both were very athletic, did fairly well in school and were attractive. Their strength despite being on the thin side as well as their above average height made the former president suspicious of them and had the club investigate the siblings. Although they weren't able to learn anything concrete, Claude knew to not trust the Powells.


"This might seem unrelated, but what did she think of Samantha's attack?" Claude asked "And what did her younger brother think?"


"She didn't really say much about it," Meathead said, thoughtfully. "Went quiet and then shrugged it off."


Claude hmm'd thoughfully.


"And her brother?"


"Same thing. Why?"


Claude who was in his contemplative pose with his arms crossed and chin in hand suddenly straightened his back and dropped his arms.


"No reason," he said in an unnatural monotone "I was only curious."


Meathead shot a glance at Michael. "Maybe Claude hasn't noticed the redhead because he's interested in Paula."


"Huh?" Claude replied smartly.


"Ooh that must be it," Michael said as if he had an epiphany "You are into blonde haughty types with a hidden sweet side."


"I doubt that girl has a sweet side," Claude said "Now I believe we came here for food."


"He didn't deny it, just denied she fits it," Meathead immediately pointed out. "Although food does sound good."


Claude started rubbing the bridge of his nose.


Those two are definitely trying to give me a headache


"Well I know this great New York style pizza place." Michael said now that the conversation had switched to figuring out where they should eat.


"Sounds like a good place to start," Meathead agreed.


---


The three exited the pizzeria downheartedly. Claude looked somewhat sick.


"Haha, I didn't know you were scared of cockroaches," Michael said trying to make light of the situation but the enthusiusm just wasn't in it.


"In my house or something, not really, but in my food? That's a different story!" Meathead growled.


If Claude was a more expressive person, he would have been on the verge of tears. Their stomachs growled reminding them they had yet to eat anything.


"You are no longer permitted to suggest places to eat Michael," Claude said.


"Hey, hey, I didn't know alright," Michael said his hands in a placating gesture "Cut me some slack."


"Nope, it's all Michael's fault," Meathead quickly agreed. "Why not Mabel's? I could go for a sandwich."


Claude perked up and vigorously nodded.


"Yeah sure, why not," Michael said still bummed out about the cockroach.

 

[Corinne Skye]

Around noon, a sudden wail pierced the stillness of Sentinel Hill. "HELP!"


Claude, Michael and Meathead, having just exited Mabel's Marvelous Sandwhiches ran in the direction of the voice, takeout bags in hand (sandwhich in mouth in Claude's case).


Across the shop's small parking lot, Taylor hung suspended from her long, blond hair, dangling from a lamp post. Her feet kicked and thrashed wildly, and she shouted for help.


Meathead jumped. "Hey, isn't that drama girl?!"


"It is Taylor!" Michael exclaimed 'We've gotta help her!"


Oh no, it's Taylor Claude thought to himself glumly Do we have to go?


"Come on! I'll try to get her down!" Michael said running towards Taylor.


"Right!" Meathead said. "Jeez, someone must have done that to her. I'm going to ask around if anyone saw who did this!"


Well Michael seems to be big enough to handle Taylor and I don't want to get in Meath- I mean Timothy's way,Claude thought as he continued munching on his meatball parm.I mean it's not like I particularly like her or anything.


Meathead charged forward, pushing some space through the small crowd of people gawking up at her. "Make way!" For two football players, it wasn't difficult work. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Michael. "Get her down from there."


Taylor kicked her legs and thrashed wildly, yelping in pain. As her movements spun her around, she saw Claude's hulking form standing there. "Claaaaude!" she called. "GET OVER HERE!"


And now I can't pretend that I don't want to get in their way, Claude thought to himself.


Claude put down the bags he had collected from Michael and Meathead down and ran over to where Taylor and Michael were while scarfing down his sandwich.


"So how would you like to proceed?" he asked Michael.


"Just fucking hold her up man," Michael said slightly panicked "Her scalp's gonna get ripped off or something!"


Claude did as he was told and held Taylor up by her waist. He closed his eyes braced himself for being hit like when he helped out Samantha. Taylor quickly obliged, thrashing with enough panic to give the two students a run for their money.


"Taylor, quit your thrashin' already," Michael said annoyed before getting swatted by her arm "Ow! Damn it stop!"


Although he was being kicked and swatted, perhaps harder than normal, Claude was not too worried about the pain. The big question in his mind was how to get Taylor down.


"Taylor," Claude spoke up, coming up with an idea of how to get her down.


"What do you think of a hair cut? I hear that short hair is very in style." he said to her in between getting hit.


"JUST GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!" Taylor shrieked. Despite their supporting her weight, she was still in a panicked state.


"Does anyone have any scissors?" Michael shouted while struggling to keep the violently moving Taylor in place.


Meatheld eventually held up a folding knife. "This'll have to do, Michael!"


Michael snatched the knife. "Right! Now help me up here." Meathead hurried over, hoisting Michael up high enough to cut Taylor free. Within a minute, she was back down on solid ground, shaken but unhurt.


Taylor stood still for a few moments, shivering and looking around at the crowd. Meathead spoke up, in the commanding shout he'd use on the field. "ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!Nothing to see here! Move along! Give the girl some privacy, huh?!" The crowd jumped at the sudden command he barked, and started to disperse. Meathead loomed over the few that continued to gawk at Taylor, until most of the crowd had gone.


Having collected herself, Taylor threw an icy glare at Claude, and suddenly shouted. "A sandwich?!" She marched towards him, with a purposeful stride. "You left me hanging up there while you finished off your sandwich first?!"


"I thought Michael would be enough," Claude lied while looking away.


His looking away created the perfect opening, and Taylor smacked him, hard. "You asshole!"


Ow, he thought as he rubbed his cheek Perhaps I did deserve that a little bit.


He bowed his head slightly to show that he was sorry but due to his height, this just made him lock eyes with Taylor. While he didn't exactly feel too sorry for her, he had to placate her before this became a problem.


"I do not know what I was thinking during that moment Taylor," he finally said after taking a bit to think of what he would say. "I hope you can find it within you to forgive my lapse of judgement."


She glowered at him for a few moments, then stepped back. "Just go!"


Claude nodded his head. and began to walk away. He turned his head back to give a parting comment.


"You look good with short hair by the way,"


He had heard that compliments were a good way to calm someone down. Taylor seemed the type to fish for compliments. Perhaps she would appreciate his attempt to make peace. It didn't quite work, and she looked tensed to chase him down before Michael slipped between them.


"I'm really sorry about Claude," Michael told Taylor "I don't even know what goes through his head most of the time. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you."


"Will you be okay?" Meathead spoke up "You don't need anyone to take you back to your dorm right?"


Just for a moment, Taylor looked vulnerable and shaken. But she rallied, taking a breath and looking confident once more. "I'll find my own way home. Thank you."


"That's good," Meathead said as he breathed a sigh of relief "Stay safe."


Michael finally noticed that due to Claude's height, his casual walk had already gotten him far away while they were talking.


"Hey come on! Claude wait up!" he shouted as he jogged to keep up.


"I guess I'll be seeing you at school. Bye now," Meathead said before walking away at a much more sedate pace.

 

[TacitLaurel]

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[Corinne Skye]

The cold wind blew across the rooftops and sent a chill down Bruce's back. He tugged his uniform back around before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and flicking the ash off. The leaves rustled beneath him, reminding him that he had yet to climb the trees, though climbing up the rain gutter to the roof had cut his hands up quite a bit. Then he looked over at the opposing building. The day before there had been some kind of event. He'd missed it by virtue of being chewed out for dress code violation at the time, and now he had no intention of not stuffing his nose in the matter.


He'd chosen this perch to watch something that had been bothering him about the story. How the heck were they not seen? The hall wasn't nearly as busy after school as during school but it wasn't exactly dead either. A crowd had been able to form for a reason. And hanging her by the sign? Even he couldn't do that by himself. Even if she was drugged to not resist, which people would have mentioned in the rumor mill, how was she held high enough while still having two hands to tie the knot? Had to be two people, or "enhanced" measures.


Lost in thought, Bruce almost dropped his vigil on the hall. He took a drag as he tilted his head to the side and watched the oddity stalk into view. A tall, big, slightly tanned guy with dark auburn hair was walking around the halls in a tan jumpsuit with some kind of wooden case in his hand.And they said this wouldn't work. Bruceexhaled and waved the smoke off to continue watching the student, half his attention on finding a way to climb down to the window.


Claude was currently patrolling the halls after school to try and find the thing responsible for the incidents that had been happening. Despite his assurances to Skye that the jumpsuit increased his ability to capture ghosts, he had to fight for the right to wear it. Still, he had managed to finish the wooden ghost capturing device and even managed to complete the general abnormal mana signature scanning circle before sunrise. The ghost capturing device still needed fine tuning, but no gain was ever made without risk. Surely this wouldn't become a problem later on. The circle on the other hand was done without a hitch. The psuedo radar that the circle had turned into once he lifted the image and minimized it wasn't picking up anything however. He waved the hand that contained the image of the circle around in hopes of picking up an abnormal mana signature, but was let down yet again. He needed to find the culprit behind this soon.


I seriously don't want to deal with her again


Ever since Taylor had fallen victim to the prankster, she wouldn't stop visiting to see if any progress was made. The sooner he could make her leave already, the better.


In short order after determining Claude was up to something interesting, Bruce had snuffed the cig and bounded across the rooftops. He swung over the edge, taking a gutter down, and scaled down to the fourth floor. Bruce landed on the window ledge in a soft crouch and pressed his face to the window to look for Claude again as he rattled the windows to try and open them. "Hey, listen! Let me in. I'm a fairy! Don't you believe in fairies?"


A FAIRY!


Claude had heard how dangerous and powerful the fae were and immediately went on guard. He was understandably worried. He discreetly checked the mana radar hidden in his hand for any abnormal mana signatures that would accompany an existence that was so tied to nature as a fairy's. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw that wasn't the case.


Ha! A fairy? At THIS school? That's just ridiculous.


Still, it was rather strange that a normal human was hanging outisde of fourth floor window. Was he okay? Claude quickly flattened the image of the circle and slipped it into his jumpsuit's pocket, before walking to the window.


"Why are you hanging outside a window?" Claude asked in his usual tone.


"Because you haven't let me in yet?" Bruce responded, completely confused by the question. He still had his face pressed against the glass of the window.


Claude brought his hand to his chin and contemplated what the guy had said.


What he said is true. If I don't let him in, he will be stuck out there. No wait! He's avoiding the question!


"What are you doing outside the window to begin with?" Claude asked, using a different question in order to get a straight answer.


Bruce arched an eyebrow. "Well it's not like I can just light up in a bathroom or something. The air would get all smokey and stuff. Much better to smoke in the great outdoors. Why are you prepped for ectoplasm attacks?"


Claude looked down and remembered that he was in his Jumpsuit of +5 Exorcism.


"I-It's a costume that I'm wearing," Claude said, trying to find an excuse.


Bruce frowned. "Well that's less fun. So are you going to let me in or do I have to climb over to an unlocked window?" he asked, shaking the window again. The latch was loose and just barely almost out anyways but hadn't fallen free yet, no matter how much he stared at it.


"Stand back," Claude told the unknown student before unlatching the window and opening it outwards.


Bruce leaned back to let the window open, then crawled in face first. Inside, he jumped from his hands back to his feet and brushed himself off before looking around to see if anyone else had seen that. "Thanks man, I'm Bruce, I got the scar," he said, sticking his hand out between the two of them. "Man that is one fancy get up you got there. You in the show?"


"Claude Stevenson," Claude said, taking the hand and shaking it "I'm in the drama club and I'm auditioning for a role."


The second part was said in a monotone, somehow flatter than his usual tone of voice.


I need to change the subject before he asks about the drama club.


"What do you mean by being the one with the scar?" he asked.


"My brother doesn't have one. Don't mix us up," he said, pointing a finger at Claude's chest. His momentary seriousness was gone in a blink though. "Got it a few years back in a scrap," he said with a grin. "You ever been in a fight?" he asked, giving Claude a few weak jabs.


Claude had a quick flashback to a much shorter girl pointing a finger at his chest in much the same way and froze up for a second before returning to normal.


"I try not to get into fights with my fellow students," he replied simply.


"Oh psssssssssssssssssssssssssssh, you have to live a life worth remembering if you want to be immortal. That's some wisdom right there. We should get in a fight. Or you can give me the down low on what went down here because you're obviously investigating it."


"W-what could I possibly be investigating?" Claude said in his neutral tone "I am but a simple drama student practicing for his debut role. What would I know about rumors and detective work?"


Bruce nailed him in place with a stare. He held his tongue for a moment to see if Claude would squirm as he scratched his chin in thought. "I'm taking the bet that you're here about that girl who got strung up by her hair. So tell me what you know."


"I know nothing," Claude said normally.


Well, I'm not lying, he thought.


"Yet you mean. But you're going to soon?" Bruce asked, staring at Claude but not really paying attention. "I figure it was two guys that did it. Was going to go bug either the girl or the janitor about it if this didn't pan out."


Skye, please save me...


"That's an interesting theory," Claude said before quickly adding "I-if I was investigating this that is."


"It's kind of absurd to think that like, they put the girl on their shoulders or somethign as they tied her hair to this thing," he said, slapping his hand on the (wrong) classroom sign. "Needs at least three hands. The girl's probably in the dorms isn't she? That'd be a real pain and pretty creepy to sneak in to," he mumbled as he stared at the wall in thought. Then he spun on his heels to face Claude and put both of his hands forward in gesture. "So we get a skirt."


"A skirt?" Claude said, interested in where Bruce was going with all this.


"Yeah, a skirt. So they can go in and get her for us."


"We are getting one of Sam's skirts?" Claude asked "Or perhaps we are dressing in skirts?"


"What are you talking about? I mean a girl."


Ah, this must be the slang I hear so much about. Perhaps I should use some in my conversations.


"Where are we getting a girl from?"


Bruce opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and dropped his gaze frowning. "Hmm, the other girls would probably be in the same dorm. That didn't occur to me. This is like locking the key to the box inside the box." Then he clapped his hands together and looked up. "So back up plan, el juanitor."


I'm so sorry you had to be dragged into this Paul.


"Which janitor?" Claude asked, trying to pretend he didn't know Paul "And what are we doing with them?"


Bruce frowned. "Any idea who was working during the attack?"


Oh, he sucked me into his rhythm. I almost answered him there.


"I wouldn't know," Claude said in a deadpan "I am only a drama student who just so happens to be passing by the very same place that a girl that I do not know was attacked."


There! That should dispel all suspicion of me knowing anything!Claude thought, unaware of how bad he is at lying.


"Then let's just go find the janitor on duty right now. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and it'll be the same guy. Come on, let's go. I may need back up if I find the guys who did this. Bet you ten bucks we'll get in a scuffle over it," Bruce said as he started walking towards the stairs.


Claude walked after Bruce before realizing something.


Wait! Why am I even following him? And isn't smoking against the rules?


Despite thinking all this, Claude still obediently followed Bruce.


Bruce led the way, sliding down the stair rails as Claude followed behind. Soon enough, both of them were on the bottom floor, even though the janitor closet was now above them. "Janitors always take breaks in the boiler room, right? That's real, not just made up for tv?" he asked as he pounded his fist on the door.


"I think it is rather inconsiderate to the hard working janitorial staff," Claude said in a bid to dissuade Bruce from knocking any further "I mean they get paid little as it is."


Paul jumped up with a start. What in the hell? Who knocks on a boiler room door? He tucked a cross into the back of his pants and pulled his shirt over it, he then grabbed his pretzels and went up to the door. He unlocked the door with a mouth full of pretzels and opened it.


Bruce had been looking at Claude, considering what he'd said, and almost punched his fist into Paul when he opened the door. His face lit up. "Called it!"


Claude looked at Paul with a defeated expression, as if to say that he did all he could.


"Why did you jump when I opened the door? Did you honestly expect someone to not open it after knocking that hard? Do you need something Claude?"


Claude only got more downcast.


"N-no not really," he said "I am only a drama student practicing for his role in the school play."


"Oh, I didn't know you were in drama. You don't really strike me as the type," Paul shoved another handful of pretzels into his mouth.


"So were you working the other day with the girl and the hair and the thing? We were going to go talk to the girl directly but a couple of huge dudes sneaking into the dorms would kind of cause some problems, you know?"


"Well, I don't really know, but I get the gist of it... kid who reeks of cigarettes. Yeah, I was working that day. I don't really know much, I came by after it all happened. You guys may want to try asking the teacher who's room it happened outside of or some kids that were in that class. I think it was room 48 or something," Paul mumbled the last part as he finished his pretzels, "If you guys don't need me, I need to get back to my break, it's very strenous."


Paul, save meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Claude thought at the janitor.


"Teach ducked out already. Can you think of a reasonable way to sneak in to the dorms to talk with, uh, what was her name again?" he asked, snapping his finger repeatedly while trying to remember the name he hadn't actually heard.


"You're asking a member of the faculty how to sneak into the dorms? Not super smooth. Also I'd recommend not doing it. Just ask her in the morning. Now I'm going to go finish my break and I hope you kids will go and stop breaking curfew. Oh, and Claude make sure to wash out your tea set in the club room. You and me both know we don't want anyone finding out about any rats that were somehow summoned in there by the sugar. Speaking of which, I'm working on something for that, it should keep them out. Nothing like a good ol' mousetrap. Now I just need some cheese.. or peanut butter.... I guess that works better, whatever it's all the same," Paul mumbled the last part and shut the door, locking it with a thunk, he went back to the basement and sat down with a magazine and pretzels, idly listening to the hum of the magic circle as it charged.


Claude was mortified as his painstakingly concocted lies were torn apart by Paul's words, but understood what he was hinting at.


You win some you lose some I guess

 

[TacitLaurel]

"I don't want to build a detector like Claude did," Skye said, her arms folded. "You can do the job just as well sensing for a ghost. So we'll patrol the side of campus Claude isn't covering and look for our poltergeist."


The two of them were on the far side of campus, away from Claude's search area. It was cold outside, and despite the early hour, the sun was already soon to set. Skye huddled in a jacket, but Krause never seemed to mind the temperature. "Okay?"


[dice]8496[/dice]


Krause looked at Skye for a few moments, an unreadable expression on his face. "Nah," he finally said. Skye's heart sank a little. Krause stalked back and forth, a fanged grin on his face.


Skye knew that look well. "And I take it you still want something," she said, in a resigned tone.


"Well, you did drag me out here," Krause observed, "and then demand I play ghost detector for you. And I've been thinking about something you said the other day."


"And yet, I don't get the sense you want me to do something I want to do," Skye noted, affecting a dry tone despite a sudden bout of nervousness.


"A healthy body befits a healthy mind, Skye," Krause said. "That's true for demons, but especially true for you humans. It has all sorts of documented health benefits."


"Thank you, Dr. Krause," Skye said, her shoulders slumping. "What, you want me to hit the gym?"


"Doesn't have to be in a gym," Krause said, continuing his walk forward. Skye followed after, mulling over the idea of hours spent sweaty and exhausted lifting weights or running laps... "But it will help you in your own goals, so stop acting like I just gave you a terminal diagnosis."


Skye sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice." She went quiet for a while, belatedly remembering what she came outside to do. She failed to order Krause to help her...but she'd gotten good results in the past trying to reason with him. "Fine, I won't make you hunt for this poltergeist," she said as she rounded a corner next to the gym and pool building. "But doesn't it make sense? It'd take a few hours to make a detection circle, which would be visible to anyone who happens to see me searching the campus. And the faster we fix this problem, the faster Claude stops searching around with something that could potentially detect you."


Krause looked strangely pleased. "That's true, Skye, but on the other hand, if I am here in person, you could unexpectedly run into Claude, which would be problematic while he has that ridiculous device."


"He's on the far side of campus," Skye said. "We'll start here, in this building, which I imagine you want me to go in anyway."


"Good," Krause said, in a tone that led Skye to feel she had just passed some kind of test. "Fine, I'll help look for your ghost. You don't need to try to order me to get me to do something, Skye."


Skye walked into the unfamiliar building, subtly holding the door for Krause. She heard the sound of students lifting weights in the large, open gym portion of the building, so she avoided that section of the building. The school's indoor pool was a part of this building, and Skye headed there - it was too late for the swim team to still be here, she figured; they probably already scattered for the evening.