Abrupt, A Professor Layton Fanfiction
1/21/XX
Oh Journal, Winter days are never easy on one's shoes. Merely walking across the courtyard after a snow on campus soaks them completely through, and thoroughly chills my feet. Perhaps I should buy a pair of rubber boots instead; I saw the most charming woman wearing a bright red pair this morning, and she hardly seemed bothered by the cold at all.
3/2/XX
Spring's finally started to come around for the year, and it couldn't be more welcome. For starters, it'll bring about the end of complaints of muddy walkways all across campus - not to mention the end of that machinist's insufferable contraptions to rid the walkways of mud -- Paul, I think is his name.
Why, just this last attempt of his nearly took my head, while I was passing through the area. I told him quite bluntly that he had to have been insane to use that infernal contraption in such a small hallway, let alone inside, to which he told me to stick "it" in a rather unpleasant place.
Unfortunately, we happened to be passing through the Applied Physics labs at the time, which caused enough of a fuss that one of the lab students marched out, chastising us until both fled in opposite directions. I couldn't help but notice the squeak of her red rainboots as she stomped back into the lab, she might have been that woman I saw in January.
This campus can be so small, at times.
4/19/XX
I can complain as much as anybody about muddy floors, but the one thing I cannot stand is blustery weather: this is an absolute certainty. This time of year, like no other, addles my brain time after time with it's antics.
This morning, an errant gust of wind blew up and snatched the cap right off of my head. You can imagine my frustration as it floated on it's merry way up above the Commons building. Luckily, or not so luckily, I guess you could say, I saw a hand reach up and snatch it like a flash of lightning.
I would have ran up to see who had caught it, but as luck would have it, I should have been in class five minutes ago by that point.
...I gave serious thought to using my cravat to cover my head, at least for the day. Fortunately I came to my senses before that. I suppose I'll just use my spare tomorrow.
4/20/XX
Well, some things happen when you least expect them, I suppose. I was walking the path across the courtyard, when a small hand flagged me down from the Commons building roof. Needless to say, I was a little suprised when it was none other than the woman who'd chased Paul and myself out of the AP labs just last month.
She'd said she skipped her classes that afternoon, looking for me to return the hat; apparently, she had recognized it from the incident in the labs. I was suprised she remembered the event, for a moment, until she mentioned that Paul had taken a sort of shine to her. Now, that would be a hard mug to forget.
She told me her name was Claire. I offered to buy her a cup of coffee for her troubles; she declined...
...But then, she asked for tea instead. After my own heart, she is.
7/2/XX
I do actually find myself missing Claire over the holiday. I had business to attend to here in London, whereas she went home during break. I've called her once or twice over the past few months, but she says she's quite busy as well in her hometown. I'm hoping that when the next semester begins, we can talk more.
8/13/XX
It's honestly like we never parted; she met me under a tree by the Commons building on the first day of classes, and handed me a note. She insisted I read it later on, but I tried to convince her to let me read it right then. I couldn't get her to let me read it, but she gave me ...the jist of what it said.
...I could have sworn I heard someone yelling at me, after that. Claire told me she didn't hear anything.
I fear I'm getting old.
10/6/XX
It's getting cold again, much to the chagrin of the entirety of the University. Even Dr. Schroeder seems to drone on and on about how miserable the weather is when the year starts getting on in months; not that he was ever the wordsmith to begin with.
Claire is even dusting off her rubber boots, in case of a sudden freezing drizzle. I keep telling her she can keep them in my locker in the Archeology building, but she insists that even if it's not muddy, they're insulated, anyway.
Also, I wonder if anybody has told Paul that it's extremely difficult to wear skiing caps with his... eclectic new hairstyle. What he's trying to do with those poor hats looks something akin to a butterfly net in disrepair.
11/30/XX
I was discussing some things with Dr. Schroeder the other day, and the subject of my employment came up. Offhandedly, he mentioned that he'd be more than willing to put in a word for me with Dean Delmona, especially with graduation looming so close.
I say "looming," because the thought of fending on my own is, to be frank, terrifying. Yes, yes, "grow up, Hershel," I realize.
That aside, I thought the good Doctor was ribbing me, for the most part - that was until the Dean approached me, saying I was among the candidates for Professorship in the Archeology department; I was lucky I didn't plant right into the floor.
The Dean told me it wouldn't be decided until nearly March, but if tones of voice were puzzle peices, it didn't take long to peice together that I had a good chance. I waited until Delmona was out of earshot, and started bolting across campus as fast as my feet would go, shouting like a schoolboy the entire way back home.
I called Claire as soon as I got to a phone, but she was already laughing, claiming she heard my hollering from the dormitories.
12/14/XX
Just because I may get a job as a professor, doesn't mean I have to be an uptight snob the rest of my life. Act like a Gentleman! this, Act like a Gentleman! that; she's just pure obstinance and I wish she'd go rot.
12/15/XX
Ugh, why is it that the only writing utensil one can ever find when angry is a pen? Peh, I wish those words would go rot - ugly things. Anyhow.
Claire's really fixated on turning me into her idea of a proper gentleman; I don't really see myself able to mold to that image. This is the first thing we haven't quite seen eye to eye on, but I told her I'd mull it over.
Besides, it's almost Christmas; the last thing in the world I want to do is ruin her holidays.
1/31/XX
Claire's gotten a job with a pair of scientists in the area; she says that the work that they're doing is very important. The only part that bothers me is the fact that she's gone so late every night.
She doesn't drive, and her flat is so far out of the way...
2/17/XX
It's almost March; and needless to say my head has been in a worrying state. Doing nothing but fretting over Dean Delmona's upcoming decision hasn't had the best effect on my ability to sleep. Thankfully, Claire has been visiting my flat quite often, since it's relatively close to the lab she's working at. It gives me some manner of anchor to grip while the rest of my brain scatters like a carton of broken eggs.
She's also reading over my shoulder, and is telling me to leave myself a note that the above is myself entirely overreacting.
2/19/XX
I woke up from an absolutely horrific night terror around 4 AM this morning.
Claire was sleeping beside me over the duvet, still in her labcoat. I had accidentally woken her up in my panic; she said she'd forgotten a few papers here, and came to pick them up, but heard me thrashing, so she stayed.
She confessed that she'd actually been doing this for about three days. She'd always gone back to the lab before I woke up.
2/24/XX
I decided to invite Claire to dinner tonight to thank her for how kind she'd been; I also picked her up a small gift: a little golden pocketwatch.
During dinner, I almost blurted out if she'd move in with me.
3/2/XX
Finally, a complete night of sleep! Dean Delmona's decision has been made, and you're listening to the new Professor of Archeology at Gressenheller University.
The news apparently spread rather quickly, as Claire burst through my front door with a box that was about twice as tall as her head. She'd bought me a top hat! She left to go complete an experiment at the lab about two and a half hours ago, but I'm still afraid she's going to peek through the window and catch me if I take off this hat.
Of course, this is most likely tied to her fascination with turning me into a proper gentleman, but I did promise her I'd wear the hat to dinner t
