Media studies

“A proposal?”

I hear a certain interest hidden behind Ellen’s icy veneer.

“Yes,” Julian explains, before presenting our idea. Much as I noticed when I sat through one of her lectures last week, she’s a very spirited speaker when she’s talking about something she cares about.

She’s passionate, energetic, convincing, and she has that rare ability to organise her thoughts into paragraphs on the fly. If she’d been the one to get the app instead of me, she would already own the world by now, and we’d all be reduced to thralls who get off on late Middle English literature.

“Of course, you’d get your own column in there too. It’d be an easy way to send out HR pieces and announcements to the students!”

She sounds so enthusiastic she’d almost make me want to start writing HR columns for a school newspaper.

Ellen doesn’t seem too receptive though, strangely enough, which Julian clearly notices, as she continues her argumentation.

“Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry about distribution. We’ll have a copy delivered to every dorm room on campus, and we’d leave any extra copies in the atrium for visitors to take home!”

Still nothing. Ellen is always hard to read, her face as motionless as that of a professional poker player who had unfortunate encounters with a Gorgon, King Midas and Jabba the Hutt in short succession. But even by her standards, this is a bit unenthusiastic.

Oh!

Of course, I know where the problem is.

“We’re talking about a column,” I chip in. “But it’ll really just be a space for you to print out anything you want. Even photos if you’d like.”

Her eyebrow twitches up a couple Planck lengths. She’s interested.

She wants to show herself applying the rules, and widely distributed photos of herself are a great way to do that.

“Oh, now that I think about it,” I continue. “We could probably print photos in much higher quality than you did, since we’ll have a proper infrastructure set up. Better paper, higher definition printing... People will get to see pictures like these...” I point at one of the leftover leaflets on Ellen’s table. “In all their detail.”

Julian seems a bit confused as to why I’m taking this angle, which makes sense, since she doesn’t know about Ellen’s path, but she does trust me enough to let me get to the end of my point.

Ellen thoughtfully brings a finger up to her lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Your proposition has... merit,” She finally says. “However, surely you realise that I cannot put my weight behind it without any certainty that this will lead anywhere.”

“Of course, we’re not expecting a greenlight right away,” Julian says. “But if we were to put together a team and a concept, could you back us?”

There’s a pause. Ellen’s considering it. She’s on the fence, but I have a feeling that if we leave her on it, she’ll get off on the wrong side.

Now if only I had some kind of magic power to help me convince people of whatever I want.

“About the pictures, maybe we could get the photography club involved. We could get them to participate on a regular basis, which would allow you to spend some more time with them.”

I’m being very heavy handed with the photo thing, but I saw something in her reaction to the idea. It wasn’t just the sexual aspect of her path. What it actually was is a bit hard to pinpoint, as Ellen has a rather minimalistic approach to human communication, but I just know there’s something in there.

Is it an appreciation for the art itself? Or maybe an unexpected enjoyment of modelling?

In any case, it’s a way in.

She stays silent, but I can tell the argument landed.

“And not only that, but you could develop your very own faithful audience. I’m sure people will not just look at what you give them, but they’ll start actively looking forward to it!”

I know I will.

And here’s what I was waiting for. Her icy gaze dulls out, looking just a bit spaced out.

I realise that this isn’t the safest way to use the app. Implanting a belief into someone while someone else is watching is supposed to weaken the app’s ability to make them accept the change as normal, but I want to test the limits of this. It’s a fairly minor change, after all. There’s nothing unusual about a school having a newspaper, is there?

Julian seems to find my latest argument much more relevant than the previous one.

“Exactly!” She says, clicking her fingers. “A faithful audience means more effective communication. They’ll be eating it right out of your hand!”

“I suppose...” Ellen trails off, her eyes fully unfocused now. “I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm there... It does sound like a good... idea...”

Now, if I want to seal the deal, I need to convince her that this isn’t just a throwaway idea, but something that we’re ready to see through.

Even though it kind of was a throwaway idea at the start.

But then again, all ideas are.

I continue arguing.

“Let’s say we were to put together a plan of what we intend to do exactly, and we showed it to you, then surely you wouldn’t have any reason to say no, would you?”

“I... suppose I wouldn’t...”

The BS is just about to spill out, she just needs a final push.

“And then, you’d get to print whatever you want. HR advice, photos of yourself, of others, anything.”

“Print... anything... I want. Yes, of course,” Her eyes clear up. “Adam, Julian, you’ve made your point. Bring me that mockup as soon as possible and I’ll see what I can do. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She stands up and makes her way out of the cafeteria.

And this is strange.

I felt something very similar to BS being drained out, but I didn’t get the usual “mental notification” of a successful transaction.

Something unusual just happened.

I pretend I got a message and pull out my phone, making sure Julian can’t get a good look at it, although its screen is so bad you pretty much can’t see anything unless you’re looking at it exactly head on anyway.

And sure enough, there’s a new alert on Ellen’s profile:

Conditional belief for target. 10 BS will be spent when the following condition is fulfilled:

• User will present target with a plan for a school newspaper.

Hm, a conditional belief. That’s new. It’s a little bit annoying right now, since it means Julian and I will need to put in some extra work, but it’s good to know for later. It can be a useful way to make an argument now but only pay for it later. The only cases where it’d be really relevant is if I’m short on BS but don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity to argue later. Though I won’t actually reap the benefits until I’ve fulfilled the condition.

In any case, I put my phone back into my pocket and turn to Julian.

“Shall we get to work?”

The room is basking the setting sun’s autumnal golden rays when Julian and I are finally done.

“Alright,” She says while stretching her arms back in exhausted satisfaction, “If this isn’t good enough for Ellen, nothing is.”

“Oh yeah, if she turns it down we should just mail it to the New York Times and they’ll probably hire us on the spot.”

It is a very solid design we’ve got going. Good variety of sections, an easy to parse layout, a full team of potentially interested students. Julian even told me about some girl who could draw some comic strips about life on campus.

As we were discussing things, I tried to subtly tweak and rephrase some of our ideas to be more pliable to any further... changes in the school’s culture.

And, of course, we left a large blank space to serve as Ellen’s canvas.

“You look tired,” I tell Julian as she stifles a yawn. “I can drop off the documents at Ellen’s office if you want, you go get some rest.”

“Thanks, Adam,” She replies, beaming me a thankful smile.

I gather the sheets of paper into a neat pile and put them all into a folder.

It would’ve probably been cleaner if we’d just done it on a computer, but I can be surprisingly old-fashioned for an IT guy when it comes to these things.

And besides, it gives me an excuse to go see Ellen and make sure the condition triggers.

I wave a quick goodbye, to which Julian responds by flashing a quick V-sign as she gathers the rest of her stuff.

As I close the door behind me, I thank my past self for suggesting that we work on this in my classroom. The path from my classroom to Ellen’s office is one I know fairly well, and it’s quite short. Plus, the corridors are mostly straightforward and they barely ever bend at angles the human brain was not meant to comprehend.

I walk down the school’s familiar entrails, surrounded by walls whose colour I can only describe as painfully scholastic, rendered only barely more tolerable by the setting sun illuminating through the large windows lining one side.

Eventually, I reach the wider, more lavishly decorated atrium that houses the offices of the school’s higher ups. I step towards Ellen’s office, ready to knock on the door, when I hear voices rising from a familiar door at the end of the room.

A door through which I walked Jenny right before I... helped her with something.

The dean’s office.

One of the voices sounds somewhat upset, and I can’t help but let my curiosity get the better of me.

I sneak up to the door, my footsteps thankfully muffled by the carpeted floor, and get my ear just close enough that I can hear through it, but just far enough that I can pretend I was simply about to knock if someone suddenly opens it up.

“I’m not quite sure what it is,” the upset voice explains. “But things are different, aren’t they? I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“People have settled in, is all. You worry too much, Erin,” a much calmer voice reassures in an almost motherly tone.

“One of us has to,” the first voice, who I now know to be Erin’s, the vice-dean, retorts. “Mary, you’re good at what you do, but someone needs to pay attention to these kinds of things. A school is a fragile thing, and if the balance shifts, things can quickly turn to shit.”

Even as she says that, there’s a certain endearment in her voice. Like an old lover simultaneously tired of their partner’s carefree outlook, while also aware that it’s part of their charm.

“Maybe the balance has shifted, as you put it, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Mary, the dean, argues. “Change happens. To go with the flow doesn’t mean that you’re not in control of things.”

Once again, there’s affection in there. Between those two women, I hear trust, respect, but also an understanding that there are some things that they are irreconcilably different on, and that both will always have to fight to defend their point of view.

That can be an effective way to govern, but at the end of the day, one of them is above the other, which means that Mary, for all her claims of going with the flow, probably gets her way much more often than Erin.

And that can be my foot in the door. If Erin is frustrated, I can use that. Tell her that she deserves to be the one on top, and that I can help her, if only she just listens to my arguments.

That being said, I think Mary is going to be my first target. If she’s willing to bend rather than break, I’m sure I can find a way to convince her of which way to bend if I can find an opportunity to talk to her.

And besides, the more I know about Mary, the more leverage I’ll have when I try to convince Erin that she should be at the top.

From what I’ve heard, the vice-dean is the one in charge of timetables and class programmes though, so I won’t truly have control over the school until I get Erin too.

But I already know what my first order of business with Mary will be.

As I was lost in thought, I didn’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation, but I do hear the ticking sound of short, professional heels stepping on the parqueted parts of the floor.

I silently step back, towards one of the staircases, walk down a few steps, and turn back around to step up as if I were just reaching the atrium.

The door opens just as I’m reaching the last step, and I let out a pretend startled sound, as if I had no idea someone was about to come out of that door.

Am I overselling it? Maybe. But she has no reason to be wary of me. It should be fine.

“Oh, hello, Ms...” I trail off, not knowing whether I should call her by her first or last name.

“McNeil,” She responds. “And you must be Mr Hava. I hope you’re settling in well?”

It feels so strange to be called by my last name. Even Ellen simply calls me Adam. I don’t think Erin, or Ms McNeil, is being cold though. She’s smiling, and considering all she gave me last time I met her was an awkward nod, it sounds like she’s looked my name up in the meantime.

Maybe she’s just a bit old-fashioned. Or she values work boundaries.

“I am. It’s quite different from what I’m used to but the work has been... very satisfying lately.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, feel free to talk to me if you need anything. Have a nice evening.”

“Thank you, you too.”

She smiles one last time before clicking away and into another office down the corridor. One that looks significantly smaller than the dean’s.

There was still some awkwardness but she was a lot nicer than I expected. I suppose I just assumed the rest of the higher ups would just be a pack of increasingly stuck up Ellens.

Speaking of whom, I follow in Erin’s footsteps and firmly but politely knock on the door opposite hers.

“Come in,” The voice inside dares me.

“Ellen? I’m just here to drop off the documents we were talking about.”

She raises her head from the pile of papers she was perusing.

“Oh, yes, the documents...”

She seems to be losing her focus as the app gets ready to do its magic.

“You seem busy, I’ll just drop them off and leave you to it.”

She doesn’t respond, her gaze vaguely following the stack of papers in my hand.

I walk up to her desk and put them down in the corner, and at the exact second I let go of them, I feel it.

-10 BS. 18 remaining.

“The documents... Yes, thank you, Adam. I see you and Julian were serious about this after all. You can consider your newspaper approved. I will send you the... materials for my column as soon as they’re ready.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to read what we’ve come up with first?”

“I will, later. But now that you’ve given me those documents like you told me you would, I have no reason to doubt your seriousness.”

That’s an interesting way to rationalise it. It’s almost as if her brain had already decided on the rationalisation before the app sealed the deal.

I’m not complaining though.

“Alright then, thank you Ellen. Feel free to tell me if you’ve got any more questions about this. Have a nice evening.”

“Have a nice evening, Adam.”

Ellen wishing another human being a nice evening. Hell must’ve frozen over.

As I close the door behind me, I pull out my phone and check the app for the new belief.

XP +1! Next level in 7.

Cash +1! Total: 3.

New path unlocked for Ellen DeJong.

Available Path, Photography Enthusiast.

Please select one of the following options:

1. Role Model

   Target will come to enjoy being photographed in enticing and sexually explicit ways, and she will go out of her way to ensure the resulting photographs be spread far and wide and seen by as many people as possible. While the target will, on some level, be aware that her behaviour is a form of exhibitionism, she will always try and come up with excuses to justify her behaviour. Her photographs will have a mild memetic effect, making anyone who sees them within the Sophistry Generator’s radius of effect slightly more open to public sexual behaviour. This effect will be weak but may stack when exposed to different photographs over time.

2. Capture the Moment

   Target will find a passion for taking photographs of other women in increasingly sexually explicit poses and situations. As long as the target points a camera at them, the models’ inhibitions will be drastically decreased and their compliance towards the target increased. While the effect will wear off shortly after the end of the photography session, the models will remember having had an enjoyable experience, which may act as positive reinforcement for the sexual behaviours enacted. Eventually, the target will come to be interested in taking videos as well as photographs.

Oh, I see she’s really leaning into the photography thing. And both options would make the school more overtly sexual. But do I want her to be on the modeling end, with the side effect being more widespread but weaker, or on the photographer end, with a stronger and more focused effect that would affect fewer people?

I take a minute to think about it, then make my decision.

Hello everyone, long time no see.

The rush of May is now over and I've had some time to write this chapter. As I promised, I'm giving Ellen a more active role in the story, as well as setting up a few things for later.

I know it's been a while, but of course the rules are still the same: feel free to tell which path you'd like to be selected going forward and we'll go with whichever has the most votes.

Thanks for reading, and see you all soon!