Zack was flipping though a thick sheaf of notes from the past week's lectures, when a leaflet he didn't quite remember picking up floated out. Frowning slightly he picked it up to give it a once over.

The frown turned thoughtful as he read, given that the leaflet was advertising a summer series of forensic anthropology lectures, and he recognised the name from several monographs in the Fandom High library. Even if they hadn't actually been published yet from this timeline's perspective, Zack figured that he could do a lot worse things with his summer than attending Dr Brennan's lectures.

In the dead of night, a group of black clad figures made their way down the hallways of the dorms and into the quad, wheeling a covered contraption in front of them. "This is going to be the best April Fool's prank ever."

"Only if it works," Zack said, fiddling with a remote control. "Which it should, but you can never be totally sure."

With a flourish, Zack's companions pulled the sheet off the cart. "This is what I'm talking about," said one. "Totally. Awesome."

Zack paused and looked at the half-monkey-half-pony-monster robot.

"Do you think we used too many monkeys?" he asked.

Zack was back in the model UN, this time however he had a plan to make things more interesting.

"...which is why, if you don't surrender immediately, Macedonia will unleash our armies of killer robots upon you all," he finished, before sitting back down.

He only smirked a little at the uproar that resulted. Honest.

Zack couldn't really see the relevance of participating in a model UN actually had to his current coursework, but his anthropology professor had volunteered the entire class to do it anyway, so the point was moot and he was Macedonia.

It was during a particularly long and boring discussion of coffee tariffs that it happened. Zack was sketching out a design for his engineering homework when he sneezed. Not a loud one, just one of those ones you catch yourself doing midway through.

Madagascar turned from his place beside Zack to stare at him, eyes bugged wide.

"Shut down everything!"

Zack blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The ports! The schools! The borders! EVERYTHING!"

Sometimes, Zack really didn't understand why everyone kept saying he was the strange one.

Zack knew it was New Year's Eve, but was currently too busy getting a start on his studying for the new semester to really be care about celebrating.

Pity that his new roommate wasn't in the same non-celebratory frame of mind. As his roommate tried to break the laws of thermodynamics by fitting more people in the room than could actually fit, Zack found himself thinking wistfully of the days when his roommates had had a tendency to mysteriously vanish.

Zack had gotten in to Fandom too late last night to make it to the dance, but that just meant that he had more time to set up. More time to prepare things for the Master.

He picked up a kitchen knife and started sharpening it. Everything had to be perfect for the Master.

It had been far too tricky to find what the Master needed at the university, but here, here they was a disproportionate number of orphans in the general population had he could be sure to find a Widow's Son somewhere. And then, then they would feast.

[Establishy. Because I had too.]

Zack awoke from a nightmare where pure logic killed, and he had to talk with creepy, smug, young psychologists with shiny, too-big teeth.

He sat up and looked down at his new breasts. "Oh good, I needed something rational after that."

Zack had taken care of the things in his room before moving down to the cabins, so the only thing that remained to do was pack the belongs he'd brought down here.

He might have been taking longer than he strictly needed to do so.

[Zack is leaving, woe. Open if anyone wants to say goodbye.]

After his efforts in the library failed to pan out, Zack returned to his room to continue researching there. At first there was very little return, but after finally just inputting a seemingly random collections of search words, an article on www.zomgconspiracy.com caught his eye.

( Seer or Sicko? )

There was more to the article, but Zack didn't bother to read, instead just hit print, scrambling for the printouts as soon as they because available.

Zack frowned as he looked over his room, it was exactly as it'd been twenty years ago, down to the faint smell of tangerine emanating from the bathroom.

He wondered vaguely how many people the room had laid claim to since graduation.

[Establishy, but open if you don't mind extreme SP.]