the_isle | Don't You Wanna Make Mischief Your Daily Routine

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Every once in a while, the teachers remember that this is actually a school and they're supposed to be teaching. Some of them may have pointed out that there are so few of you that it is hardly worth their time, while others... Well, let's just say that you might be getting some... extra special attention....

(OOC: School logs will be officially active until the next mini event or school log that goes up after. You may tag into any header more than once, just put a day of the week or some other marker to indicate a new day. Or you can hand wave having gone to classes and just use these as an idea for what was taught in this span of time. Most months will have either one or two school logs, depending on the event and mini event schedule.)

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She hesitated, not sure which question to answer. She pulled on her hood, making sure it was still covering her face. "I have... I have to leave..." she mumbled, shaking a bit. Well, possibly more than a bit.

"Why?"

None of them had anywhere they could go.

"I have to save Axel..." she said, hunching in more, trying not to cry.

"Who's Axel? Is he or she here?"

She didn't want to answer. She really didn't. "How do we go there?" she asked, after a long moment of hoping he would just go away.

"Go where?"

Conan didn't let go of mysteries once he came across them.

"Where the people in the screen were." Thanks to the Train and Diatu she had some vague understandings of what was a screen, at least. "He was there!" and so was danger. She had to get to him!

Conan's tone softens a little at this.

"There is a barrier between us," he tells her. "Right now, no one knows how to get through to there."

"I have to figure it out," she whispered, desperate.

"You're not alone in that," Conan tells her. "None of us can get off this island until we figure out how to get through the barrier. But right now no one knows how to do that."

"I have to! I... I have to..." she crumpled in on herself.

Conan had terrible skills at comforting people. Anyone could tell you that. His own social skills had been learned more from practice at shocking confessions out of criminals than in learning how to communicate with friends.

"Hey," he tries. "I told you you weren't alone in this. There's no such thing as a puzzle that can't be solved. We just need to understand it first."