LostHaven
Loser's queue is real and it's coming for you.
Edward Hart
Initialize anchor point. Rewind axis by three turns. Beginning reconstruction in 3. 2. 1...
Edward stared at his desk with a blank expression as flickering images began to appear, moving as if it were a video being projected unto empty air. Across the table, an image of himself, hunched over, rearranging stacks of Jenga blocks. An incredibly mundane sight to be sure, but the Doctor watched, eyes glued to the 'projection' nonetheless, regardless of how boring the scene appeared to an outside observer.
After approximately three minutes of what appeared to be just watching himself play with blocks, the images began to violently flicker until their shapes became nearly unintelligible. Then, without as much of a sound, whatever magic that had been cast fizzles out into nothing, and the images vanish in its entirety. Edward's lips curve ever so slightly into a frown. "Unfortunate," he mumbles, messily jotting down points onto a notepad. "Mana consumption sub-optimal. Cannot reconstruct scenes past the 11-hour mark. Will adjust formula."
During the break, whereas students and most teachers went off to take their well-deserved rest, Edward had been cooped up in his office for days on end, completely engrossed in his work. If the various empty cans of instant coffee and energy drinks were not enough of a testament to the countless sleepless nights, then the bloodshot eyes and pitch-black bags under them surely would. The Board was becoming increasingly impatient for results - entirely reasonable, given the... 'peculiar circumstances' recently - and Edward was growing ever closer to reaching the 'solution'. He could only hope that it bore answers, not more questions.
The sound of his own inner thoughts was broken by the loud ringing of the school bells that resounded across the entire campus. Instead of showing any kind of anticipation for the new school term, or any kind of enthusiasm to teach new students, Edward lets out a long sigh. Compared to the loud, bustling hallways filled with laughter and idle chatter, he much preferred the silence in which he could focus solely on research. "Time flies by too quickly," he mutters under his breath, as he looks up at his office; a complete mess with all manner of bizarre apparatus and the only thing remotely 'well-organized' was the coat rack in a lonely corner, holding several of the exact same, intricate overcoat. He slides one on as he leaves his office.
As usual, the 'Natural Sciences' classroom was dead empty. Not that he minded. In fact, he preferred it that way. Most students didn't care much for the sciences, anyway. Who needed physicists when the laws of physics were so easily just shattered with any middling application of magic, and who needed chemistry when there was an alchemy class? Perfect. He needed to sleep and reset his body that was screaming at him to rest, anyway. Thus, with a practiced motion, Edward scribbled "SELF-STUDY, TEXTBOOK PAGES 1-12" on the whiteboard, before promptly slamming his head into the desk and taking a well-deserved rest.
Wasn't like anyone took his class out of genuine interest, anyway. They got their free pass, Edward got his sleep. A win-win situation indeed.
Science Classroom | "Ah... How very unfortunate."
Initialize anchor point. Rewind axis by three turns. Beginning reconstruction in 3. 2. 1...
Edward stared at his desk with a blank expression as flickering images began to appear, moving as if it were a video being projected unto empty air. Across the table, an image of himself, hunched over, rearranging stacks of Jenga blocks. An incredibly mundane sight to be sure, but the Doctor watched, eyes glued to the 'projection' nonetheless, regardless of how boring the scene appeared to an outside observer.
After approximately three minutes of what appeared to be just watching himself play with blocks, the images began to violently flicker until their shapes became nearly unintelligible. Then, without as much of a sound, whatever magic that had been cast fizzles out into nothing, and the images vanish in its entirety. Edward's lips curve ever so slightly into a frown. "Unfortunate," he mumbles, messily jotting down points onto a notepad. "Mana consumption sub-optimal. Cannot reconstruct scenes past the 11-hour mark. Will adjust formula."
During the break, whereas students and most teachers went off to take their well-deserved rest, Edward had been cooped up in his office for days on end, completely engrossed in his work. If the various empty cans of instant coffee and energy drinks were not enough of a testament to the countless sleepless nights, then the bloodshot eyes and pitch-black bags under them surely would. The Board was becoming increasingly impatient for results - entirely reasonable, given the... 'peculiar circumstances' recently - and Edward was growing ever closer to reaching the 'solution'. He could only hope that it bore answers, not more questions.
The sound of his own inner thoughts was broken by the loud ringing of the school bells that resounded across the entire campus. Instead of showing any kind of anticipation for the new school term, or any kind of enthusiasm to teach new students, Edward lets out a long sigh. Compared to the loud, bustling hallways filled with laughter and idle chatter, he much preferred the silence in which he could focus solely on research. "Time flies by too quickly," he mutters under his breath, as he looks up at his office; a complete mess with all manner of bizarre apparatus and the only thing remotely 'well-organized' was the coat rack in a lonely corner, holding several of the exact same, intricate overcoat. He slides one on as he leaves his office.
As usual, the 'Natural Sciences' classroom was dead empty. Not that he minded. In fact, he preferred it that way. Most students didn't care much for the sciences, anyway. Who needed physicists when the laws of physics were so easily just shattered with any middling application of magic, and who needed chemistry when there was an alchemy class? Perfect. He needed to sleep and reset his body that was screaming at him to rest, anyway. Thus, with a practiced motion, Edward scribbled "SELF-STUDY, TEXTBOOK PAGES 1-12" on the whiteboard, before promptly slamming his head into the desk and taking a well-deserved rest.
Wasn't like anyone took his class out of genuine interest, anyway. They got their free pass, Edward got his sleep. A win-win situation indeed.
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