#it always assumes the wrong synonyms for my search string like come on??

[shroomsnail]

literally i have zero patience left for googles search algorithm, i put in specific keywords and its like Oh You Mean This Random Ass Barely Synonym Right like whats the point of keywords anymore why do i have to use fucking quotation marks that end up being useless anyway fuck

[jo-the-schmo]

Chaos Breeds Life, Order Bleeds Blue

A/N: :Long title, I know. But trust me, I couldn’t think of a better one. I might change it later. This one’s a bit different and I’m posting it at 3:30 in the morning like a responsible adult.

Wordcount: 4034

Warnings: Language, time science? Blood

Tags:  @sunsetleslie @hoshihime98 @phantastic-fandoms @arya-durin-51 @thelazyfangirl @happypineappleapple @sweaterkitty-fluff Message me or send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list

“This sure doesn’t look like homework.”

You almost jumped out of your seat when you heard the voice speak to you. It had been silent for so long that hearing a voice surprised you. Wait…how long have I been here? As that thought struck you, you suddenly realized your surroundings and the numbness in your legs. You had been sitting on the floor outside the school library ever since it closed. The hallways were dim, most people already up and gone. Books were strewn around you, some still open and small notecards tucked into the pages with questions. And in front of you, stood a man with a familiar, thick, black rimmed glasses sitting on his nose.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! The building must be closing, I’ll get out in just a sec…” You started to frantically shove your newest lends. But you saw the man kneel down, waving his hands for you to stop.

“No need, the building doesn’t close until all the teachers and staff are gone. And I’m still here.” His eyes flicked down to what you were reading. “Horology? Planning on making clocks?” Professor Laurent questioned with a mischievous glance back at you. “Hope you aren’t changing majors on me!” You gave him a tired chuckle.

“Nah, this stuff is giving me headache. I could talk about history all day and not get tired of it. But the library barely had what I was looking for, the clock stuff isn’t really helping.”

“Why the sudden interest?” That question immediately eased the tension in your head.

“I’ve just…been feeling kinda stuck recently.” You sighed.

“In time?” His head cocked to the side. You nodded. His mouth drew into a tight line, as if he were considering something. He seemed to come to a conclusion.

“I’m sorry if this is…an odd invitation. But I think I have some stuff you might want to look at, more physics and philosophy related.” You’ve never heard his voice be so serious. It was somber and comforting. Almost as if he was saying, ‘I know what you’re going through.’ “They might do you more help than what our library, that’s for sure.”

“Really? That would be great!” You exclaimed. He slid his metal to-go cups into his worn satchel, freeing his hands. He reached out, gently closing most of your books and taking them himself.

“I’ll help you with these.” After collecting all your things, the two of you set down the hallway toward his classroom. Professor Laurent was probably the kindest person you’d ever met. He wasn’t like most teachers you had known, he genuinely cared. He felt more like a mentor than a teacher, which although seem as though they’re supposed to be synonyms are actually quite different. There wasn’t a single person to your knowledge that has met him and not felt how wonderful he was. Which, is probably why seeing the way he walked with such a soft step, or his silence being deafening got to you so much.

The building was sectioned off less by building and more by long halls. And the quiet echoed beneath your feet. It completely reflected how you would personify the professor. Kenopsia. In the few minutes of traveling, he seemed like an entirely different person. The halls are usually so bustling and loud, full of energy for one reason or another. But perhaps, that’s only because that’s the only time you see it like that. Or more appropriately, him like that. Empty, solitude, echoing. Eventually you made it to the door to the room you visited most during school. You heard a click from the lock being turned and he pushed open the door. You almost instinctively went over to your desk that you always tried to sit at, you could even imagine the bodies of all your peers in their respective places. But the professor kept moving forward, over to his office.

It only took a few moments for the two of you to be in the smaller, off-set room. You had never actually been in there before, so you were intrigued by everything around you. The walls were bland but there were a few bookshelves placed in assumingly random places. His desk was made of a light wood, clean, had a few picture frames in the corners. He set his bag down by the desk and laid the books he carried down on it’s surface. You followed in-suit. He switched between all of the shelves, picking out a couple of different books. As he came back over, he gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs on the opposite end of his own. The swivel chair creaked under his weight as he pushed the books towards you.

“Do you have a favorite theory?” He asked. Honestly, he had been silent for so long that you hadn’t considered him asking you anything.

“I don’t suppose I do… I haven’t been through this enough to really have an opinion.” But that now begged the question. “Do you have a favorite?” It took him a second to answer.

“I don’t think it’s my favorite, but the idea that past, present, and future co-exist is comforting.” He paused. “No matter how much of a low point your life has hit, the happiest version of yourself is happening at the same time. But I suppose this all subject to human perception. Time is a human-born concept, after all.” You looked over at all the old books in front of you, they looked to be pretty worn down. And you didn’t recognize any of them.

“This is an interesting collection you have.” You stated as you plucked every book from the pile to read the cover. “I would’ve never guessed you were into this kind of thing. You never mention it at least.”

“Well, no one is really an open book. You never knew because there was no reason to tell you until now. Plus, it shouldn’t be so surprising, my entire profession is based around time and where it’s led us.” A little bit of his usual demeanor returned to him. “You could also argue that I don’t know everything about you, and that’s because I don’t. There’s plenty that you don’t share with people.” Boy, if he only knew.

“I guess you have a point.” You spent a moment reading through the text of the smallest book. “It all just seems so crazy…” You muttered.

“What does?”

”The fact that there are all these different theories, there’s no solid answer. Fate vs. Freewill, wormholes, string theory, co-existence, butterfly effect… It’s all just ideas!”

“Time isn’t like genetics or gravity where we could see or test it. We were the ones to decide how many seconds are in a minute, minutes in an hour, hours in a day. It’s a complex study because it means different things to different people.” He looked through you, almost like he was trying to see into your thoughts. “Perhaps I’m wrong in assuming this but, did something happen in particular that made you so interested? Is there something making you feel stuck?” You could tell he had been dying to ask you this question, not just in the minutes passing this evening, but ever since you woke up. He noticed you were different, everyone did. But he was the only one to ask. Everyone else was too scared to, thinking that it was just a side-effect of your coma.

“You would just think I’m crazy if I told you…” You sighed. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not too sure about that, I’ve seen some crazy in my time. Try me.” He leaned into the desk, his elbows resting against it. You tried to think of a way you could phrase this.

“Do…Do you really think a single person can change history?” He raised an eyebrow, shifting his glasses down a tinge.

“Now you already know my answer to that, of course I do. I’m almost certain I say that to your class every other day.”

“I was…kinda afraid you’d say that…” You could tell he was confused by your statement. “I feel like I’m changing too much. And all I’m doing is destroying it, breaking it.” He was silent for a moment, suddenly moving his chair to the adjacent side by you. He rested his hands on his knees and looked at you with comfort.

“Order brings habit, but with chaos comes life.” He looked over at the pile of books, quickly searched through them for one in particular. It was a medium sized book with a navy blue cover. Explaining Chaos. “That is the principle to Chaos Theory. With chaos comes innovation and progress, it isn’t always destruction.”

“I always though chaos theory was that unbelievable things will happen simply because they can.” You took the book in your hands, running your fingers against the cover.

“You’re not wrong, but that’s not the whole story. Chaos Theory is where we get the popular idea of Butterfly Effect. A simple action can have tremendous consequences. But those actions don’t always result in breakage.” Suddenly you had an idea.

“What if…Hypothetically speaking, what if time were in a set straight line? Events happening in a fate like manner. What would happen if a disturbance suddenly happened to this set timeline?” You asked.

“Like a time anomaly?” You seemed to peak his intrigue.

“Yes, something unexpected. What would do you think would happen?” You found yourself on the edge of your seat.

“Well, I’m not expert…But I would think that’s probable cause for change. Both direct and indirect. Say that I put a pen on Mrs.Gepson’s desk. You could say that now she would have a new pen, a direct change. But you could also say that someone could then steal that pen from her and then throw it at someone else, an indirect change that continuously effects the whereabouts of that pen. But if it were to a time anomaly, it would most likely result in a split from the previously set reality. This might then cause further anomalies, making more and more splits, until we get to something closer to a web. Or something along the lines of a multiverse.” Holy…shit… ��But of course, that begs the question, what is this anomaly? If this were a fate based line of time, why would this anomaly occur? Would that anomaly then also be conjured by fate? Unless it was an outside force with no correlation to that timeline. And that also depends on when exactly this anomaly occurred.”

“Oh, that’s uh…I think got the chills.” You gave a nervous chuckle. He looked at you quizzically, or like he was trying to figure something out. There was never a moment of clarity in that gaze but he seemed to have put it aside for something else.

“Why don’t you take these for a little bit, as loaners.” He gestured to the book pile. “Read over them this week and then we can discuss if you found your answer at the end. But it’s late, I can’t have my best student losing too much sleep.” He smiled warmly. You were glad that he was still himself, you doubted for a moment.

“Thank you so much! That would really help me out!” He helped you put the books away so that you could carry them home. Together, you both walked down the shallow halls, they seemed less daunting than they were before. Professor Laurent was always a well dressed guy, very business casual. Charcoal slacks, light blue button down dress shirt that’s never buttoned all the way, nice dress shoes, black rimmed glasses. He looked like a professor. You always considered him to be young even though he’s in his late 30s.  His presence is very comforting, like he knows what he’s doing, all the time. But as soon as you were out of the building, you became nervous. The familiar streets started to bother you. Ever since you woke up, you tried to avoid the streets at night. The tension around you was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Would you like me to walk you home? I’m assuming you live near campus.” Professor Laurent suggested. You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s very responsible to let a young girl walk home by herself this late at night. I know you can handle yourself but it would best to avoid anything unsavory if possible.” You mentally sighed in relief.

“Thanks. And you’re right, I’m only a couple blocks away.” You gestured toward the direction of your apartment.

“Good! I’m the pretty darn close too.” The two of you started to walk together. He pulled out his cellphone. “Just give me a second to call my daughter…” He clicked on something and then pressed the phone to his ear, it only took a moment for him to speak again. “Hey Ravenna, sweetie…Yes, I am on my way home. I should be back in about 15 minutes…I was helping someone out, don’t worry. If you don’t mind waiting a few extra minutes, I’ll pick us up some dinner?…Alright, I’ll see you soon, sweetie. I love you…” After a few seconds, he hung up the phone.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter, you never talk about her!” You exclaimed. That actually explained a lot.

“Yeah, she told me to stop doing that. She doesn’t like it when strangers just know who she is, especially if she didn’t naturally come up in conversation. I told her I’d stop doing it.”

“Actually, you calling her reminded me that I should probably text my boyfriend. He’s hanging out with his sister at our apartment so I should tell them I’m on my way back.” You pulled out your phone. Hey Phoenix, tell Anna that I’m on my way. Don’t eat all my food. Love yoooooou! You add a heart emoji.

“Your boyfriend’s name is Phoenix?” DAMNIT! I NEED TO STOP DOING THAT!

“Yeah, trust me, that name suits him.”

“What’s his last name?” He seemed curious.

“Hansen, his sister is also my roommate, her name is Anna.” He looked at you with a cheesy grin.

“Well, it sure is a small world!” What? “I know their dad!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, we’re great friends. I’ve known Phoenix since he was born! He used to call me Uncle Joshie.”

“Aw, that’s adorable and I’m definitely going to use that later to embarrass him.” He chuckled at your statement.

“That is crazy though. I mean, what are the odds? Maybe Ill see you at the family reunion?”

“You go to their reunions?”

“Well, Allen and I host one together every year. It’s more of a friend reunion where we bring all of our all of our families. I suppose it’s better that we learned this now rather than later?”

“Yeah…that would’ve been hilariously painful.”

“At least you’d have a funny story to tell later, right?”

“Crazy history makes for crazy stories…” You remembered something he said earlier, something about how him not telling things to people because they don’t ask. You had always been curious about something… “What made you want to be a history teacher? You seem to be really interested in time so why history?” He seemed surprised that you asked.

“Well, I didn’t get an intertest in time until later in life but…Oh, you would probably just think I’m crazy if I told you.” He mimicked you from earlier, to which you followed in tow.

“I’ve seen some crazy in my time, try me.” You smirked. It took him a second to answer, he almost seemed nostalgic.

“Let’s see…When I was 17, I wasn’t doing too hot. My grades were low, I didn’t care about anything, it was one of the lower points in my life. I didn’t even think I would graduate.” That surprised you, he was always so happy and cheerful that you would never guess. Maybe that explained why he was acting like that earlier. “But then, one night, I had a dream. I was standing out in the middle of a field, there were white tents everywhere I looked, but no people. Except for one. This young woman, wearing a black dress. It wasn’t a modern dress though, it was historical. I couldn’t see what she looked like, her face was fuzzy like TV static. Her dress would change too, but I could just tell it was the same woman. It slowly became white and red, then grey and white with pink detailing, it was still her. I couldn’t hear her voice but…I could feel her words, if that makes any sense? It was like she was speaking through my skin, or singing is probably more appropriate. I kept having this dream, again, and again, and again.” He cleared his throat. “So, the first logical thing I decided to do was research it. The only thing I had to go on were the words she was singing.”

“What was she singing?” You felt something in the back of your head.

“It’s a long song, but the first verse always jumped out at me… O fare you well, I must be gone// And leave you for a while:// But wherever I go, I will return,// If I go ten thousand mile, my dear,// If I go ten thousand mile.” He recited rather than sang.

“That’s…really pretty…but also sad?”

“It turns out that it was a song first dated in 1710, The True Lover’s Farewell. That gaze me a good time frame since it was next seen around 1803. Which means, I was dealing with something from early America or England. Fortunately for me, England was ruled out since I later noticed the color blue appearing around the dream. Blue coats to be exact. Sometime in the American Revolution. This was also reassured because of her clothes, I was able to date it around the late 1770s.”

“That’s why you chose history? A girl in your dreams.” The feeling was spreading to your temple.

“Sort of, doing all this research gave me something to do. It gave me a purpose for a little while, it surprisingly helped me. To this day, in a way, it’s still my purpose. I still have many questions about those dream. I still get them from time to time as well. I started to pay attention to things around me more, including school. It took a lot of struggle but eventually it lead me to what I’m doing now.” He seemed to think of it fondly, appreciative of it. Your apartment was just down the street now. You could even faintly see Phoenix sitting on second step. You should’ve run right up to him, but you didn’t.

Something didn’t feel right. You felt like…

You were being watched.

That’s when you heard footsteps pounding behind you. You couldn’t even think about it before you felt Professor Laurent turn around and pull behind him. A familiar sound, a gun being cocked. You swallowed your fear. There’s no way. It can’t happen again. It isn’t… You turned around and peered behind the professor’s arm.

It was him.

It was the same man from that night. The same frozen eyes that you remember. They had never caught him, in fact, the police couldn’t even find any suspects. They assumed he left the state. You had a lot of time to think about what happened after you woke up. None of it added up, and the police agreed. It didn’t seem like a typical mugging. Most were done quickly, they’d speak to you with few words, hide their face, get your money, no matter the amount, and then go. It also seemed strange that they’d target someone who wasn’t alone, leaving them outnumbered. And the way that he let his anger get the best of him and how he did almost nothing to go after Anna made it all seem like something else was happening. Some other sort of agenda. But nothing came out of it.

He didn’t bother to hide his face last time and now wasn’t an exception. His skin was pale and gaunt, a strong jaw, you could see light brown hair under his hood. Why him? Why is he here again? His lips were in a tight line, he seemed frustrated, staring down your professor.

“Whatever happens, stay behind me, alright?” He whispered to you. You were visibly shaking. The man took notice, that’s when Professor Laurent finally addressed him. “Take a step back, young man. You don’t want to do this.” He said calmly. Blue eyes tightened his grip on the gun.

“How about you take a step back? Away from the girl.” This wasn’t a mugging anymore.

“I can’t do that.” Blue Eyes tilted his sideways at the professor’s statement. “Do you want money? Because I can give you money, no need to get in over our heads.”

“No! I want you to take a step back away from that girl behind you! I’m not letting that bitch ruin things again!” The man yelled, he didn’t care if anyone heard him. What is he talking about?! Professor Laurent turned his head and looked down at you. Then he looked down the street. You followed his gaze, Phoenix was looking around, you were just out of his line of sight because of the darkness surrounding you. You were being told to run. You looked back up at your teacher and shook your head. But he acted before you had the chance.

“Go!” He yelled, rushing forward and grabbing the man’s arm, forcing his gun to point toward the ground. You shakily took a step back. You couldn’t run, you knew you couldn’t. You desperately looked around for some sort of weapon that might help. The two men were struggling for power, you couldn’t see the gun clearly anymore. Meaning, it was in between them. Everything was happening at once, you didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe.

Then there was a shot.

Both men stood still for a moment. The gun fell to the ground as they both reeled back. But then, Professor Laurent fell to the ground, blood pumping out of his chest. You screamed. Then man was clutching his shirt in the same place. His breathing was forced and choking. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you thought you could see something coming out of his left eyes. Not blood, but not tears either. He looked over at you with a sneer, a look that said more than any words could. And with that, he staggered to a run down an alley you had passed not to long ago.

You kneeled down beside your teacher. Panic welling up inside of your stomach. He was still breathing. As Blue Eyes’ steps faded in the distance, another pair rushed behind you. Phoenix heard the shot. Heard your scream. He was next to you in a matter of seconds. He seemed shocked by what was in front of him but you were quick to tell him what to do.

“Phoenix, call an ambulance and give me your belt!” He seemed shaken but he followed your instructions. Taking his belt, you wrapped it around Professor Laurent’s chest, your hand firmly pressed down on the bullet wound as you fastened it. Stop the bleeding, stop the bleeding, pressure will stop the bleeding, tighten the belt, press your hand down harder, stop the bleeding. You couldn’t even hear Phoenix while he was on the phone. “You’re gonna be fine, everything’s alright…” You tried to reassure him and yourself. His breathing was heavy but it was there, that’s all that mattered. You something slowly roll down his temple from his eye.

Blue paint.

You wiped it away. All that mattered was that he was still breathing. He began to cough so you lifted his head up. You tried to avoid thinking about anything else, you knew you’d break down if you did. You began to mutter ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. You couldn’t help it. And as the red lights began to flash and blink closer, you looked down at the ground.

He left the gun behind.