Song Listened To: Foals - My Number
*Chapter 67*
Through the dim classroom, Tessa's eyes adjusted to the gentle light of the projector and the small graph her teacher was thoroughly mapping; a long, teaching stick she always had in her old hands. What was on the agenda, for Tessa's last hour class, was the simple study of how basic coding, and how each circuit, in the body, connects to the other. Tessa's eyes lightly dulled as the hypnotic, calm lighting of the projector made her head grow heavy. She furrowed her eyebrows and dazed out, but only slightly. She knew she had a perfect score in the class, and she knew her knowledge on coding was far beyond anyone else in Program Ed.; she figured lulling into daydream land was something she could afford in this moment.
She lightly let her eyes glance down to her open textbook, which was turned to page sixty four; a map, of something similar to what was on the projector, was placed in the top left corner of the page she looked at, along with spillage of paragraphs explaining the circuit connectivity from the brain, to the rest of the body. She furrowed her eyebrows a little harder and, with tender, slipping fingers, she ever so gently coiled her thumb up the slope of the thick textbook paper. The pages lightly bowed in such a way to reveal more and more page numbers, beyond where she was. With her head tilted down to her book, her eyes darted to her teacher in gentle inquisition. Her white-haired teacher, old, wise, lanky and stern, continued on with the lesson to the twenty-some students that surrounded Tessa in a messy class of casual silence. Tessa felt her heart lightly dip as she dared to silently flip towards the back of her thick textbook.
With one more sly glance, as to just where her teacher's attention was drawn, she gently scanned the words of a few pages, in the back of the book, for anything on code swapping. She bit her bottom lip nervously and continued to silently scan for any hint on the subject matter, any sort of glimpse she could get into that extraterrestrial realm she could possibly get her nervous circuits on. Her heart jumped as she finally came to a page in the book that marked where each chapter started; it read, 'code swapping : opposing codes'. Tessa nervously gazed down at the gentle wording, the delicate drawings of lines of a circuit-board that were two different colors, intertwined within each other. She squinted her eyes for a moment, as if to scold the topic, like it were the main source of her hidden, nervous grief as of late. With one last glance as to her teacher's gaze held, she lightly flipped the page and held her breath.
Tessa dug her full attention in the book and felt her heart begin to race with nervous delight, as if she were traipsing into a lion's den, merely offering herself to a predator that she was bound to be slaughtered from. Her eyes gently scanned the sub-topics and the paragraphs and paragraphs of information. She felt as if somehow her nose was growing closer and closer to the textbook, the farther she got drawn in. She inhaled a nervous, steadying breath and lightly scanned to a section she thought she could get some use out of; she read aloud to herself in her mind, deep busied thoughts.
'User-made gamers are programmed with a finished, solid set of coding. It is refined and cannot be altered, thus the stereotype of seeming superior towards self-programmed gamers-... Is that racist?' Tessa wondered in her head, she wrinkled her nose and tried her hardest not to let a silent, annoyed chuckle escape her figure. She drew her attention back to the book and lightly shook her head.
'User-made gamers, upon swapping interior coding with another user-made gamer, create self-programmed code, which is coding that is not made by User. Upon the swap, the single gamer that is born from the two parent coding, will obtain both parent's gaming powers and abilities, as well as both parent's code color.' Tessa furrowed her eyebrows and continued to scan onward.
'Contrary to popular belief, opposing-code swaps are obtainable. This swap is considered a rarity, and not often tested. Because of the different coding structure of a user-made gamer, compared to a self-programmed gamer, there are a lot of severe risks, when it comes to the two opposing, interior codes meshing. Risks include code-wash, fatal pixlexia, circuit-overriding, or deletion entirely.' Tessa's eyes lightly bulged from her head as she felt her heart dip. She swallowed nervously and presed on.
'Such a delicate act is not to be taken lightly, or to be merely acted upon for fun. Though there are many theories as to how to properly, and successfully, receive user-made interior coding, as a self-programmed gamer, without any harmful side-effects or game-over, one important act has brought inter-coded couples together. In order for the opposing coding to find harmony and mesh wholly and entirely, both parties must-' Tessa was largely whipped out of her thoughts as a loud, massive snap came crashing down to her textbook.
Tessa largely flinched and felt her skin un-glue itself from her bones. She quickly looked up, in mild surprise and felt her pupils readjust in a panicked, needy sense. She came eye to eye with her teacher, who had viciously slapped down her teaching stick to Tessa's widely opened textbook, which was obviously far away from the correct page. Tessa exhaled a startled breath of a noise and suddenly felt as if she were so simply the center of the universe. Her heart sunk in horror as her teacher peered back at her through piercing, stern eyes.
"Skipping ahead are we?" Her teacher darkly snapped; a friendly woman she was not. Tessa exhaled a gentle noise of inquisition, as if to suggest maybe an apology, or a plea to get the whole class's attention off of her.
"I-I..." Tessa muttered as she gently gestured her hand towards her book, though she flinched once her teacher snapped her fingers, and the classroom lights quickly lulled on from their dim state. Tessa squinted and felt the cold horror of now being able to be seen by her peers.
"No, please," her teacher urged sarcastically in all of her old, wise wit, "If you think you're so far ahead in the class, with your perfect grade, why don't YOU tell us exactly what we're going to learn. Tell the whole class why you're so enthralled with opposed-code swapping, hmm?"
"I-I'm sorry, I was just scanning the book," Tessa fibbed quietly as all eyes laid on her, though her classmate's eyes held a notion of understanding, as if being the center of attention from their wicked teacher was hell for anyone; they lightly and nervously shot her empathetic looks from sheepish peripherals and noses dug into their textbooks.
"Were you, now?" Her teacher snapped, "Is that why you were so buried on this one page? Go on, tell us what you learned."
Tessa swallowed hard and dared not to peel her eyes away from her teacher's. She began to feel encroached on, as if her teacher was merely singling out those that just barely stepped out of line. She knew she had a perfect score in this class, so she knew merely skipping ahead for one small period was hurting no one. She furrowed her eyebrows gently and began to feel a sense of competition wash over her, a trait in which her mother graciously passed on; the need to win. She inhaled a steady breath and felt, with her mother's fierce wit and her father's stubborn heart, she was invincible; her heart raced.
"I was just reading on exactly what would happen if a user-made gamer, and a faux-code, were to swap," Tessa dared, her voice grew in decibels.
"Interesting, go on," Her teacher snapped as she lulled around her pointing stick; Tessa felt the anger in her blood rise.
"It's possible, though if done incorrectly, there are horrible side effects," Tessa suddenly felt as if she was schooling her class on her own personal problems; her face remained a dark, horrified red.
"Permanent game over," Her teacher said darkly as she bent to Tessa's level, slightly, "Something no one should toy with. User-made gamers are programmed with much stronger, dominant coding. One simple swipe of our superior, interior coding, in your little systems, and you minus well rage-quit that endearing situation so fast."
"Yes ma'am," Tessa stated dully, though her teacher stood gently and cocked an eyebrow.
"You don't need this information, anyways," Her teacher snapped as she remained poised in front of Tessa's desk, "No self-programmed gamer is stupid enough to initiate swapping codes with a user-made gamer. It's simply suicide, and has never been tested."
"Maybe it will be," Tessa said in a brave, gentle tone; her teacher shot her an incredulous look.
"What, you gunna go knocking on Bowser's door?" Her teacher's smile was broken and sickly tormented. She cackled a laugh that lead to suggest every word that dripped from Tessa's thoughts was merely a joke.
"Yes, that's EXACTLY where I'd go," Tessa said in daring sarcasm, as she rolled her eyes. She cocked an eyebrow and knew she shouldn't sass her elders, though she knew she had to retaliate somehow, from being horribly humiliated in front of the class, "My boyfriend is a user-made gamer."
Tessa suddenly felt everyone's eyes quickly peel from their shrunken, nervous positions to bulged, surprised expressions that glued to Tessa in a sliding string of curious shock. Tessa lightly glanced about, though she began to feel the kind surprise of her classmates drape her in much needed camaraderie. She suddenly felt as if she was standing on top of a totem pole.
"Oh, and what sorry soul would that be?" Her teacher said darkly as she swat her teaching stick into her other hand, as if to insinuate that she maybe used it as a weapon, once upon a time, "Surely he's having a hell of a time, courting someone as loud and as stubborn as you."
"Zed," Tessa braved, "Of Dead Zed."
"Zed!" Her teacher's eyes bulged, though she heaved a sarcastic laugh and shook her head, "Bout time that blue haired freak dipped his toes in the social pool."
"Yeah, and it's about time I ditch this class," Tess said in a nonchalant tone as she stood and gestured down to her textbook, "I could read this stupid textbook front and back, and I would still feel as if I were in daycare. I run my own code room, for crying out loud. Why I didn't get placed in an AP class is beyond me."
"Well, if you think you're so much better than everyone, then why don't you go down to the office and tell them you'd like to be placed in a class that's four years ahead of your year, your majesty," her teacher dared as the anger in the room rose.
"Good idea," Tessa gave a kind, though sickly sarcastic smile and lulled her bag over her shoulder.
With a deafeningly silent classroom and eyes of shock laid on Tessa, she confidently gave a few of her classmates a dominant smirk as she marched towards the exit of the classroom. With a simple swipe, and a racing heart, she slipped out of her Program Ed. class, for the last time.