Parallel Punishment Procedures

[Frozen Smoke]

((>tracert ParkerGreen.Memories
2 | 24 ms 27 ms 26 ms Perpendicular Reward Structures█))

Detention was a special kind of hell.

Parker understood the intention. To force one to reflect and think out the path taken to this point, in order to learn from it. It was a necessary thing, in some respects, and he understood that he was here because he'd fucked up. He accepted that, and the lesson of "Don't get caught" had been pretty firmly established with the mark on his record that he hadn't quite managed to talk his way out of. It wouldn't tank his grades too hard, but it meant he couldn't coast the rest of Bio.

He'd figured that out before even sitting down. Unlike the mentally deficient individuals like Wyatt or Tyrell that would end up spending time here, he was actually capable of reflecting on his actions without being forced to sit down and do so, which left the whole excersise painfully redundant.

He'd imagined some ephemeral revenge plans against Cecil for a while, before realising that both he - and by implication, school staff - would quickly suspect him if he did anything serious, and he didn't know enough about Cecil to really figure out how to get even with him yet. So, that train of thought had reached a dead end.

And that was where his mind had stalled, his brain spinning its wheels, scrabbling for purchase as he stared at the clock.

The clock continued to be broken.

He couldn't even look at his phone to check the time.

He just wanted to know when this would be over.

He could feel his chest getting a little tighter and he closed his eyes, remembering to breath properly. Calming himself. Stressing about this wouldn't help at all. He just had to keep himself occupied whilst he waited for the allotted time to pass, there was nothing he could do but try his best to make it subjectively faster.

He took notice of a few of the people in the class with him, idly speculating what they had done to earn the ire of the establishment at the same time as him. None of them looked like the fighting sort, nor the cheating sort. Talking back to teachers, perhaps? He eyed the back of one girl's head in particular, her dyed hair screaming "Got caught smoking" at him, which was practically a gimme.

Ok, maybe he could keep himself entertained for a little longer.

[Jilly]

A crumpled up ball of paper no more than maybe three-quarters of an inch wide silently flied through the air and ricocheted off Parker's face. It landed and stopped on his desk, slightly on his right side.

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker had been so busy weighing up the factors between "Missed an assignment" or "Cutting class" as he idly stared at the back of a slightly punk-y looking Junior that the ball of paper sailing towards him took him completely unawares, before its momentum was arrested by the interruption of his face, only to be overtaken by gravity and falling gently to rest on his desk.

He was too surprised to even swear in shock as it fell silently to the relatively new, but still schoolchild scarred plastic of the detention room desk that sat before him.

After a brief glance to the side to see if anyone was watching him for an indication of who this was from - if they were he couldn't make it out - before sneaking it under the desk. Unlike Cecil, he wasn't about to rat someone out over breaking a rule as long as they didn't get caught themselves. The fact that it might actually make this whole ordeal interesting was an added bonus to him.

Underneath the desk, he worked clumsily to unravel the ball of paper into a creased, but two-dimensional enough form to read, his unguided hands making slow work of the task at hand. After a few moments of hushed unravelling, he pulled his neck back and tried to read the note discretely whilst keeping it under the desk.

[Jilly]

hey

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker looked at the three characters scrawled out in pen with curiosity. No name. No identification of who'd thrown it. No indication of what they were interested in. No topic for idle conversation. Just a confirmation of someone wanting to talk in the vague area.

Parker's brow furrowed a little and he mouthed the word "Hey" back to himself, trying to even figure out what he'd do to respond to that. Or even to whom to address his response to. What did anyone even do to react to "Hey", anyway? Normally just with another greeting. A "How're you doing?" at best. Not exactly the kind of conversation one would risk punishment for, right?

Parker waited for the Responsible Adult™ to reach a particularly engrossing part of the book they were using to pass the time, and looked around, trying to see if anyone was looking at him - or if anyone would make eye contact with him. That'd be the best way to see who sent this non-message to him, and that'd hopefully help tell him just what they were up to. As such, his head and gaze lazily tracked behind him, twisting in his seat slightly as he tried to cover as much of the room as he could in one sweep.

[Jilly]

Another similarly sized wad of paper sailed through the air from the same direction, striking Parker in the back of the neck before bouncing onto his desk. It landed relatively in the same spot as the previous one.

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker didn't know how to respond when the second note hit him.

The mixed messages here were unending. First they wanted to talk - but not about anything in particular - then they refused to meet his eye contact, and now they wanted to talk again. As his hands went to work under the desk, this time in full view as he tried to piece together the fragments of writing he could see on the paper as he unwound each inelegant fold.

He had to admit, he'd put money on Blaise being involved at this point.

[Jilly]

on your right
dumbass

[Frozen Smoke]

It was with that prompting that Parker turned his head to the right once again, taking a harder look at his surroundings, making sure to take it row by row, checking off everyone he could see until one particular form caused a few neurons to fire and attach a name to a diminutive silhouette that sat hunched over her notepad, looking vaguely busy without actually doing anything. That was Desiree. Parker blinked a few times, somewhat annoyed he hadn't recognised her writing earlier. He certainly saw enough of it, but it wasn't distinct enough from the others he'd seen to make that connection. Now that he had other information, it became clear, but he would have to try and make sure to recognise that sort of thing in the future.

It was those kinds of little, tiny edges that stopped one from looking like - as Desiree had so accurately put it - a dumbass.

His own handwriting was distinctive enough, simple print letters with no calligraphy added, easy to read and nothing more. He'd often wanted to practice at that, but never found the drive or time to do much beyond buy a fountain pen, which - he noted as he pierced the paper, and jabbed his thigh with the nib of it - was not the best tool for discretely writing under a desk.

He then balled up the paper again, and - when it looked like he had a chance - gently arced it close enough to where Desiree was sitting, it bouncing off of her desk and awkward plopping against her chest, before rolling down into her lap.

[+] The blue ink of the pen had barely begun to dry as it sat there, awaiting her inspection

remind me to pick you if GHHS ever does a hide and seek championship
what are you in here for?

[Jilly]

Desiree flinched as the return mail struck her and ran down into her lap. She looked over at her intended target and made eye contact and nothing more as she returned to look at the ball; about time Parker caught on.

Luckily, today's prison warden was Mr. Clarke who you could commit murder in front of him and he'd congratulate you on your "artistic expression"; not that Desiree was particularly a big ne'er-do-well like these other miscreants, but it was a little bit of a relief to not have a hard-ass like some of these teachers at this school for today's session... today being the first time Desiree ever had detention in her entire school career in the first place, but she digressed.

She looked up to make sure Mr. Clarke wasn't eyeing her at the moment, and she unfolded the note under her desk and read the message.

[+] blotches of ink ran together

renin- me to pick --uif GPHS ever das a bide aod seek chanplonshlp
whaf ar- yyou ln here f0r?

Desiree stared at the letter salad as she tried to decipher the exact meaning. Jesus, would it hurt Parker to work on his penmanship maybe a little bit?

She eyed over at Parker again before writing her reply on her notepad placed on top of the open chemistry textbook. After finishing the message, she discreetly tore it out and crumpled it. While Mr. Clarke was looking at his own book again she catapulted the wad back to Parker, it landing on the inside of his right elbow.

[+] the note read

took my phone
I'm bored
what's the ans. to #4

[Frozen Smoke]

The blank rather than surprised expression told him that his deduction had been accurate, and Desiree was indeed the sender of the previous messages. With that dialogue established, they both broke eye contact, as to not draw the ire of their shared overseer. The lag time between responses gave him time to ponder just what Desiree might respond with. If she asked him to guess, he should probably start thinking of something pithy now to be able to respond quick enough that it seemed natural. "Got caught sucking dick behind the bike sheds?" was a good start, but he wasn't sure if Desiree would overly appreciate that. They both had an unwritten acceptance of being crude, but it had always been crude like oil not crude like humour. Unprocessed and raw, not deliberately crass like that.

His musings on the specific tone of a potential joke were interrupted by another, relatively clean note, which nestled it's way into his right elbow. His left arm awkwardly reached over to grab it, and unfurl it once again, wondering just what her response would be.

Ah. A suitably bullshit reason for Desiree to be here as well. He never got why teachers felt that looking at your phone after you'd finished the work was in some way "rude" or "disrespectful". He respected that he had to be there, because they couldn't let him leave early. He respected them enough to do the task they set in the class. It was not a matter of respect to go ask for more work, when he didn't have anything to gain from it. He was taking advantage of efficient time usage, and respecting the system enough to want to pass. Which was better than a lot of the people the school seemed to bend over backwards to not upset, like the Carters.

He shook off that train of thought, and began to compose his reply. A few swift glances towards a notebook that Desiree was not attempting to hide told him that she was working on chemistry, which meant she was likely just working on her homework. He'd already taken a cursory look through it, though he'd planned to actually work through it with her when their next tutoring session came around, so he wasn't exactly sure what that question concerned.

[+] This time he took more care, and the ink was almost dry before he balled it up and took aim

Got ratted out by Cecil here.
RIP - Bored too.
Copy out the question, please.

Parker's throwing failed to match Desiree's in its accuracy, and despite his best intentions, it hit the outside of her left thigh and rolled off of her chair, onto the floor. Parker quickly looked away as to not draw more attention to it.

[Jilly]

Desiree quickly shifted her foot over on top of the note when it slapped the ground. Mr. Clarke momentarily looked up in the direction of the noise and eyed Desiree while she pretended to jot some jank down from her textbook. The facade worked as he returned to his book, and when the coast was clear Desiree pulled in the paper with her foot and discreetly reached down with her arm to pick it up. She glared at Parker before unfolding the note under the table to read its contents.

Okay, this is much better; good job, Parker!

Cecil... what a snake. Ever since that one time he tried to rat Desiree out he watched her like a hawk. She managed to stay one step ahead of him since, but she was running out of room. Screw that suck-up; she was looking forward to graduation just so that she'd never have to see that nosy bastard again.

She rolled her eyes reading Parker's request on what she was exactly talking about. Come on, you're supposed to be the tutor who's on top of it!

...It'd probably be easier to split her IRL texts into separate halves in that case.

She started writing her first message on another small scrap of paper and launched it when the time was right, it skidding on the desk itself before hitting Parker's chest.

[+] message 1

fuck Cecil
give me a sec

After making sure the intended recipient got the ball, she started copying the question out on another sheet. This wad was way bigger; Desiree waited to make eye contact with Parker before launching it over. She coughed as it landed in his lap, trying her best to cover the sound of the impact.

[+] message 2

Fe₂O₃ + C -> Fe + CO₂

0.1303 g Fe₂O₃
0.2015 g C
??? g CO₂
limiting reagent?

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker couldn't help but smile at that response, but patiently waited as indicated. If Cecil had done anything in particular to mess with Desiree, having a second person who could be trusted to work to his detriment opened up a world of potential options, should other things fell into place. He made sure to note that for the future, and waited for the question to be delivered. Upon reflection, this was the most excited he'd been to receive homework in, well, a very long time.

[+] He mentally noted down the little sections of the question as he read through it

Fe2O3 + C -> Fe + CO2 - Balance this equation

If you have -
0.1303 g Fe2O3
0.2015 g C
What is the -
limiting reagent?

??? g of CO2 is produced when all of the limiting reagent is used.

This was really where Desiree fell down, in actually reading and understanding the question, but it would be difficult to explain how to parse that sort of thing now. Instead he smoothed out the paper as best he could on his desk, trying to pretend like he was just working on some work he'd brought in himself, not drawing attention to it as he poked at the problem.

[+] He took time with his response

Step 1 - Balance Equation

2 Fe2O3 + 3 C = 4 Fe + 3 CO2

Step 2 - Find Highest Molar Mass x Coefficient

Fe2O3 (~160 g/mol x 2) > C (~12 g/mol x 3)

Fe2O3 is the limiting reagent

Step 3 - Ratio Calcs

Use mass of limiting reagent (Fe2O3, 0.1303) in ratio calcs. I don't have calculator. Co2 should ≈ half of 0.1303

He took the time to read it back over, seeing if it all made sense to him, nodding approvingly as he read his own laconic instructions, before adding an extra message to the bottom

We still good to do full session on this thu or are you busy?

Before sending his paper on a more successful arc this time, discretely landing it in Desiree's lap, and even managing to contain the bizarre urge to celebrate like a basketball player who'd just scored nothing but net as he returned his attention to the expected direction.

[Jilly]

Desiree watched Parker as he worked out the problem, hand tapping on the desk in an attempt to stifle her own growing impatience. She looked back at the clock, hoping that just maybe it would have somehow become unbroken between the time she last looked.

10:42

She rubbed her forehead; surely more than 20 minutes have passed since they became imprisoned here? She had to keep hope alive somehow.

At last, the return mail arrived safely in her lap. She quickly opened it and got to work copying Parker's work onto her own paper, making sure to follow the directions down to a T and plug in the correct numbers to get what she needed.

She quickly wrote another reply note and wound up the swi-

"To whoever is simulating the Battle of Hastings, you have impeccable aim but please stop."

It was a critical hit to Desiree's nerves and enough to cease the throw mid-windup. She took another look at Parker as she crumpled up the note and stuffed it in her backpack discreetly, accepting her defeat and returning to work on her own work.

But Mr. Clarke wouldn't win the war as Desiree flashed Parker with the most famous of handsigns:

[Frozen Smoke]

One good hand signal deserved another, and so Parker quickly -ed back, keeping his hand at his side as to not help the Fun Police locate just who was attempting attempting smuggle to some mental stimulation into dedicated boredom and misery time. Still, that statement was enough to close the both of them off. He still had a sheet of paper left to send, but now that it had been made clear that Mr. Clarke was aware, and more importantly letting it be known that he knew. That meant that there would be consequences for further actions, and he had rather had his fill of taking consequences for his actions for today. Still, he supposed Desiree had given him a little more to think about, and something more productive than impotent fantasies of revenge to concentrate on.

Desiree was an interesting person, that was for sure. He'd known her for a while, after they'd ended up randomly mixed together in something a few years back, which was probably the only way they'd have ever come in contact. Desiree was one of the more introverted people he knew, despite being able to communicate just fine. She just seemed to not have much interest in doing anything but playing casual games and coasting her way through school, which to be honest didn't sound like the worst, as he contemplated it.

Despite that, she'd ended up asking him for help preparing for exams, and he'd done what he could - but it was clear she knew the material, she just seemed to break down when put on the spot in something she wasn't 100% sure on. So, their lessons had eventually become more focused on exam technique, reading questions, how to get partial credit marks even if you didn't know the answer, every trick he could think of. Her grades had held steady, even if he suspected she still cheated from time to time, so it seemed like he was at least moderately capable at it.

If he was going to be honest, the main reason he was still helping her was simple inertia. It would be too much of a pain in the ass to stop helping her, and doing that right before her exams wouldn't exactly be beneficial for her, which would reflect poorly on him. She was fun to talk to, for sure, it was nice to have another person who could deal with hot takes or offer those of her own - But that didn't require the pretence of tutoring to achieve. It wasn't like he was going to do much with Desiree after graduation anyway, the two of them were friends by proximity, and that proximity was soon to end. She'd applied to Middlebury College, and he'd applied to Virginia Tech. Acknowledging that fact brought on an uncomfortable feeling, not by the presence of an emotional reaction to that understanding, but rather the lack of it.

He exhaled in frustration, the noise loud enough to draw a glance from their local NKVD officer, but not loud enough to merit being given a Final Warning™. He stopped stimulating his brain for 30 seconds, and that was how long it took to get to an existential crisis, great.

He needed some fucking weed.

He hung his head a little and tried to think about something else, some hypothetical scenario he could work on to make sure this time wasn't wasted, and so that he could keep himself occupied. After a few moments of consideration, he pulled the other sheet of paper out, and silently thanked Desiree for her offering to the productivity gods as he went to work drafting up some potential pick and ban strategies for an upcoming tournament. If he worked all of this out here, it'd only take him an hour or so more to put the article around it together, and that'd be a great information piece for people.

The fact that he'd get paid for writing it didn't hurt either.

((Parker Green - GOTO thread/Hidden Information Problems
█))