It was a Monday afternoon.
Monday is far from the best day of the week, but not the worst one either, regardless of what a fellow named "Garfield" might want you to think. (Though he is right about lasagna!) You see, on a Monday there's excitement. There's novelty. Dread hasn't set in, the rose-tinted glasses haven't been broken into tiny pieces just yet. Tuesday is when that happens.
Waking up on a Monday is indeed a pain, your body and mind aren't ready to be active so early after the weekend. But you have to consider that waking up is a mere fraction of the day. Yes it is a struggle, but once you get past the rude awakening, the day is quite lovely. Monday gets a bad reputation purely off waking up, but is otherwise nice. This polarity I suppose applies to plenty of things in life, where one particularly great or horrid facet of a mundane thing sticks out and defines it. Regardless, it's sad that Monday is universally seen as this horrid day. I'm more of the opinion of it as something middling. Sure, the weekend has it beat and so does Friday, but it's certainly on par with Wednesday and superior to a Tuesday or a Thursday. Those days are overlooked, maybe because we don't want to think about how horrid they really are. On Tuesday you're realizing that you still have so much to go before the weekend and it's quite depressing. I can confirm, considering today is one. On Thursday you're tired and just want the week to end but there's still a bit to go, but it all seems like a mountain.
Oh! But I'm off track, aren't I. I was sitting in my math class, getting work done in preparation for my test coming soon. Speaking of which, the test starts tomorrow and I'm currently procrastinating on it! It's intriguing the way the human brain manages to procrastinate. Doing nothing at all feels bad, so instead I'm channelling the energy I should be putting into studying for the test into this post. Procrastination isn't really laziness, from my experience. It's like a reorganization of resources, a shift in priorities. It's never "not studying for the test", rather it's "writing a mafia post". My best friend told me that when he procrastinates, he does nothing. So maybe that's a me thing. Or maybe he's the weird one. But while I am procrastinating right now, I wasn't during that class. I was working hard, being productive, advancing in my acquisition of knowledge in mathematics. I like maths, it clicks quite well in my brain. I think that's partially because my dad used to teach it. After all, we are all a product of our environment. So maths has always been something that makes sense to me.
When the class was finally over, I had the time to read the fresh posts that had been made since my last visit to the forum. At first it was a standard set of posts that didn't particularly woo me. Then something clicked. More than it had in the maths class from just before, more than it had earlier in the game. Hellbooks... wasn't talking about the Baltar wagon. The leading wagon, the one I was happily sitting on. I thought a bit more. Had Hellbooks made
any
meaningful statement about Baltar? There was the chainsaw document joke, but that's not substantial. Had Baltar said anything meaningful about Hellbooks? There was that one post earlier on where he explained why people townread her, but nothing came to mind beyond that.
Was this it?
The gears were turning, was this really it? Ausuka, Sky, Fire, Tris, all likely town. Skitter? Well, her position relative to Baltar is nonsensical for partners, that I can't deny. Osuka? Something felt off about Osuka and Baltar as a team. Hellbooks. HELLBOOKS. That was it. It's Baltar and Hellbooks. This realization, this click, reminiscent of the jigsaw puzzles my mom loves to solve, was the moment I was waiting for. The solution to my very own puzzle. I stare at the clock on the wall, time ticking by somehow more quickly than usual, my history class is now about to start. But I must say something! This realization akin to discovering a new formula, a new element, a new planet, it cannot be left unsaid! My hands rush.
"Post Reply"
"Hellbooks/Baltar sned post"
I close my phone, the bell rings. My teacher starts well, teaching. Usually I'd be listening, but the important discovery I had made lingers, I was aching to dig. To see if it was true, to prove the hypothesis I had been waiting for for decades. The class finally ends. I get on the bus.
"Isolate Users"
"hellbooks (She)"
"VP Baltar (he/him)"
GO.
I search through the isolated posts. Like an eager raccoon having just found a dumpster to scour through. Like a pirate digging right where the big red X on the map had lead me.
"Reply with selected quotes"
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...
Any relevant post I could get my hand on. I grabbed everything with my grubby raccoon hands and looked at my collection. Now to analyze. I need to contemplate these words, to squeeze all the meaning I could get out of them.
Nausea.
I get carsick sometimes. Specifically when doing something like looking at my phone or reading a book. I think a large part of it is psychological, because whenever there's a purpose to those actions, I don't feel sick. Looking at my phone to respond to something urgent? Sure. Reading a on a loooooong drive? Sure. But my body decided not to make such an exception for this game. Despite my excitement, my body deemed this was not necessary. I saved the newly-quoted posts as a draft, letting the music I was listening to distract me as best it could on my way home. I finally settled at my computer and finally got to reading. I write and I read and I write and I read.
"Preview"
More posts.
Write, read, write, read, write.
"Preview"
More posts.
I finish looking over the collection of posts I had saved on the bus. Now to rummage through the new ones. I had already read them as they came along because of my strong curiosity, but I kept to the task at hand until it was time to get to them. More Hellbooks posts. The same blindspot. The same scummy behaviour. The wagon. Click click click. You'd think I was watching a 2006 American comedy film directed by Frank Coraci, written by Steve Koren and Mark O'Keefe, and produced by Adam Sandler, who also stars, considering the way everything had been clicking.
A smile on my face, I once again get to sned post.
Catharsis. This what was this game was building to. I breathe a sign of relief, knowing the game is completely solved and I no longer have to think.