Alright, I have been working on this for over a week, but I've had the idea for so much longer. In the span of writing this for maybe two weeks, I have rewritten it several times and changed so many sections. Also, this takes the cake as the LONGEST oneshot I have ever written in my time of writing these.

This took a lot of time so I really hope y'all enjoy because I'm in love with this AU so very much, and I do want to write more for it.

Spotify Playlist Link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6WaIyevPYI1VwvuqgkTww8
(Link will be posted on my profile)

ACT I

~.~After Trial I~.~
~.~First Freetime Event~.~

Pacifica slammed her bedroom door, not intending for the noise to have been that loud, but she just shrugged it off. It wasn't uncommon in the academy (if you could even call it that) for a relatively loud noise to be heard, so she was almost positive that no one would rush by and demand to know what happened.

The first trial had been the night prior, the deaths of two of their friends would, no doubt, be leaving everyone shaky. If Pacifica was being honest, she wanted to just lock herself in her room and never leave again. However, if she wanted to her everyone to keep working together, she would have to keep up her brave face, just as she had during the trial.

As soon as she walked past the staircase that led to the left side bedrooms, Pacifica heard the voices of two individuals talking. Well, it was more like one voice was telling the other off. What the hell had she missed? Pacifica rubbed her eyes, trying to blink the sleepiness away from them.

She hadn't been sleeping well. Pacifica remembered her insomnia from before the academy, but she never remembered it being so unbelievably terrible and persistent.

Pacifica hoped that another killing wasn't about to happen. However, when she rounded the corner, she realised that had absolutely nothing to worry about. The boy —the one who intrigued her— was telling off a sulking Ultimate Fashion Designer —who Pacifica had come to know as Candy.

"There are other individuals trapped inside this academy, so do me a favour, and go find one of them willing to listen to your sporadic rambling."

Yeah, that sounded like Dipper alright. Pacifica hadn't had much time to listen to him speak, save for the way he took control during the trial, but from his words, Pacifica figured she had his personality down to a 'T'.

The Ultimate Fashion Designer whined for a second before turning on her heel and stalking off to —most likely— the dining hall. The boy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose all the while closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his eyes narrowed on Pacifica.

Pacifica winced, realising that now she had no choice but to go up to him. After all, she was standing off behind the pillar, making it seem like she was eavesdropping —even though technically she was, but there was no reason to tell him that— when she could just as easily play it off as not wanting to talk to Candy. Simple.

With a steady, albeit slow, pace, Pacifica found herself standing in front of Dipper; the Ultimate Who-Freaking-Knows. "Good morning, Dipper." She still didn't know what he was like one-on-one, but she figured that sticking to formalities would be the best bet for now.

Dipper's eyes relaxed for a fraction of a second before he returned to his stoic and unreadable demeanour. "Eavesdropping is rude."

Pacifica let out another wince before trying to desperately explain herself. "I-I wasn't eavesdropping! I just. . .I just didn't want to talk to Candy, y'know?" It was partly true.

That wasn't lost on Dipper in the slightest. "Right. Well, let's just agree to disagree and move on." He spun on his heel and began stalking off toward the doors that led past the basement.

"Hey, wait!" Pacifica called out to him, her feet carrying her toward Dipper. "Aren't you going to join us for breakfast?"

Dipper whirled around and stared her dead in the eye. "And what will that accomplish? Did I or did I not already explain to everyone after the first trial that the more we try to cooperate, the more likely Cipher is going to make things worse?"

Pacifica stopped dead in her tracks. She had barely remembered his words after the trial on account of the person who was executed. But, he had said them, and they made some iota of sense.

"Y'know, the more you push everyone away, the more likely people are gonna think that you're the one behind this." Pacifica found herself saying. It was the world's biggest bluff, and she was half-certain that Dipper would know the truth.

The only thing that the others thought about Dipper was that he was slightly strange, yet very attractive. Intelligent, yet shifty.

"Oh, Southeast," Dipper muttered with an amused shake of his head. "It is strictly me giving you all some advice. And, isn't it odd that you think that me giving helpful advice is what will paint me as the mastermind? Shouldn't it be the fact that I don't remember my talent?"

Wincing, Pacifica made a mental note to try to avoid lying in front of the boy again. Sure, during the trial, she had done it once and made the mistake of catching his eye. He knew when she lied. Somehow.

"Memories are a whole different story, Dipper." Pacifica continued. "The point being; people don't trust you."

"I never asked for their blind faith and trust." Dipper scoffed. "It would be so much easier if you all just avoided me. You especially."

"Everyone still has hope that we will escape!" Pacifica protested, choosing to ignore the last part of his sentence. "Personally, I want everyone to leave here alive, and that won't be able to happen if you don't help us like we're trying to help you."

"Watch what you say, Southeast." Dipper turned away once more. "The fact that you still continue to believe that there won't be another killing is so terribly naive. You're a slab of grey clay, so easily suggestible and mouldable in Cipher's hands."

Frowning, Pacifica watched as he walked away. Dipper had no idea what he was talking about! Pacifica knew better than him, and she wouldn't waltz her way into Cipher's traps.

She thought about letting him walk off, letting him disappear from her sight to do whatever the hell he did while nearly everyone else was together. Yet, she couldn't allow that to happen. Something in her told her fiercely that she needed to figure him out. There was this pull toward him, to figure him out, to learn about him.

So, she decided to do a little detective work.

Jogging to catch up to the hallway Dipper had already disappeared down. Pacifica kept her eyes on him. Running down the hall, she passed Gideon.

"Geez! Why are you running?" Gideon paled instantly. "Did something happen?!"

"No," Pacifica reassured him. "I'm just," she let out a heavy sigh, "I tasked myself with keeping an eye on the mystery boy."

Gideon glanced down the hall. "I just saw him go that a-way."

"Yeah, I know." Pacifica stated glumly. "I was, um, talking to him just a minute ago."

"Be careful, Paz." Gideon stared warily down the hall. "I don't trust him."

"That's fair." Pacifica nodded along. "But, do you trust anyone?"

"I trust you, Mabel, and Scarlett." Gideon countered with his full list. "But you especially, because you saved us all at the trial! Without you, we'd all be goners!"

"Erm, thanks." Pacifica rubbed the back of her neck, trying to avoid the massive amount of stress and guilt she felt from that trial alone. And, according to Cipher, there were going to be more just like it. "Anyways, I better go catch up to Dipper."

"Be careful!" Gideon warned again as Pacifica darted past him.

Catching up to Dipper was more difficult than she anticipated. Despite that he was rather tall for his age, if he wanted, he could disappear at a moment's notice. Maybe that tied into his talent? Pacifica would've laughed if she didn't feel so out of breath at Dipper being the Ultimate Magician.

When she finally found him again, Pacifica called out to him. "DIPPER!" She could see his body tense, his back go completely rigid. Yet, it was over as soon as it appeared.

Trying to catch her breath, she placed her hands on her knees and panted lightly. Looking up, she tried to figure out what Dipper's facial expression was conveying.

There was mainly nothing. Completely devoid of any such emotion, save for the faint twinkle of amusement in the depths of his eyes. Or, maybe it was frustration.

"What do you want, Southeast?" Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose, as if anticipating an oncoming headache.

"Listen, I know what you said," Pacifica swallowed and tried to make her case. What was her case exactly?

Ah.

Right.

It was keeping an eye on him because she did not trust him with one single fibre of her entire being. Yes, she agreed with a majority of the other students; Dipper was very attractive, yet there was still something off about him. The way she felt it was her responsibility to figure him out.

She, being the Ultimate Journalist, was fantastic at finding out things about people. That was why she tasked herself with figuring Dipper out and keeping an eye on him.

However, if Pacifica straight-up told Dipper that she was going to keep and eye on him because she didn't trust him (and she wasn't the only one who didn't trust him, because Gideon didn't trust him, neither did Cody, and she was certain that Scarlett didn't trust him all the way either), he would, most likely, go off into his bedroom and ignore her.

So, her only option was to just try to be friends with him. Say she was going to spend time with him under the falsest of pretences. She really hoped he wouldn't see through her lies this time.

"I know how you said it would be best if everyone just avoided you —which isn't suspicious at all—, but I'm trying to get to know everyone here." Pacifica lied, keeping her eyes directly on his as she lifted her frame to meet his calculating gaze.

And boy, was it calculating. Pacifica could practically see the gears and cogs pirouetting behind those beautiful blue eyes. He was searching for the lie, for the deceit, and (hopefully) finding none.

"That being said," Pacifica continued, realising that he wasn't interrupting her with his disdain, "I was hoping to spend some time with you."

Dipper frowned, a tiny twinge of his lips. "Weren't you about to go fraternise with the competition?"

Pacifica wrinkled her brow. Competition? Fraternise? Did he mean. . .he meant. . .

"Breakfast?" Pacifica winced as her voice cracked. "That's not what that is! We are all trying to—" she knew better than to say 'work together' because Dipper would shut that down instantly "—. . .get to know each other."

Dipper hummed to show that he was indeed listening to her ramblings.

"I was going to, but," how was she going to spin this? "Candy is waiting at the door, and I don't want to deal with her at this current time." Pacifica was surprised, pleasantly so, when she heard Dipper huff. At first she thought it was because he was annoyed, but she soon discerned it as a disguised little laugh. How. . .charming.

"I, unfortunately, can agree with you." Dipper shook his head just enough to convey his dismay.

"So, do you mind if I just try to get to know you?" Pacifica whispered, looking around for the surveillance cameras. She wondered what Cipher thought of her talking to Dipper in such a discreet manner. With their sick brain, it was undoubtedly about the two of them teaming up and double-killing or something brutal like that.

Dipper shifted, crossing his arms as he did so. His face held a quizzical look to it, and it suited his features unfortunately.

"And, before you say no," Pacifica held up her hands just as Dipper opened his mouth to reply. "I also want to help you remember your talent." That wasn't a lie, actually. She remembered his face and how it had looked, as though he was trying to piece together a mystery that no one could solve. Ultimate Detective, maybe?

Dipper snorted. "Now, that is certainly the most interesting of offers."

Pacifica gaped at him. Was he agreeing to her little charade? Or what, exactly?

"So—!"

The speakers around them buzzed to life with the worst static imaginable. "Ahem! Report to the gym at your most earliest convenience! . . . .that means NOW!"

Dipper huffed his little laugh once more and spared Pacifica another deep look. "It appears our time is up. C'mon, Miss Journalist; deduce what my talent could be from this small conversation." He walked past her, down the hall that led to the closest route to the gymnasium. "If your theories entertain me enough, I will take you up on your offer."

Pacifica watched as he walked away for the second or third time in a span of perhaps fifteen minutes. First order of business; go see what Cipher wanted from them. Second; theorise talents.

~.~After Trial I~.~
~.~Second Freetime Event~.~

Pacifica cornered him in the old musty library. He was poking around an old pile of books that were stacked rather precariously and rather suspiciously, seemingly unaware that someone had entered the room.

Deciding not to frighten him, because he would certainly get mopey and sour toward her if she had gotten the drop on him, and that would absolutely ruin her plan. Pacifica cleared her throat and waited patiently.

He showed no signs of moving, which would've frightened her if she hadn't seen him moving just a second prior. "Go for it." He murmured, glancing toward the open door. "I'm sure it will be a rather quick trial."

"Excuse me?!" Pacifica demanded, absolutely appalled. "I am beyond bewildered —and not in the good way— that you would even insinuate that I came here to kill you!"

He turned around, hands up, and a smirk on his face. He looked like a rather hot criminal who had just been cornered and was stalling for time. "Hey, Pazazzie. It's just a precaution." He replied, amused. "I dunno what your living situation is like, how am I to know if you won't kill me for the blood money that Cipher is offering as a motive?"

"I happen to be well-off!" Pacifica countered, it took her a second to reply, on account of being completely stunned by what Dipper had called her. Pazazzie? Cute. Wait, what? "I would never kill someone for money! I would never kill anyone period! No matter what Cipher offers, I will never sink to that level."

Dipper blinked slowly, a small frown settling on his face as he jolted. "Haven't I given you enough advice? The more you show your own determination —your own morals!— the easier it is for Cipher to manipulate you."

Pacifica bit her lip and glanced off to the side. It didn't matter what Dipper thought, if there was hope, despair would be vanquished.

"Irregardless," Dipper drawled long, low, and languid, "I'm sure you haven't tried to find me to discuss what will help you survive."

"You are correct." Pacifica muttered, still bothered by what he had said. The way he was grinning cheekily with her, but then instantly switched his personality. She tried not to show how confused she was or how bothered it made her feel, yet she knew it was beyond pointless and redundant.

"Hm," he mused, tapping a finger to his chin. "I must admit, I'm surprised you've come back to me so soon. The last we spoke, you agreed to theorise about my talent in exchange for my own cooperation in your ridiculous 'get-to-know-everyone' charade."

"Right." She nodded firmly. "I already have a few ideas."

"Present your case." Dipper cocked his head to the side, eyes alight with something Pacifica couldn't place. "I'm dying to know what you think."

Sucking in a breath, Pacifica pulled out a scrap of paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. On the paper, she had jotted down the basics and fundamentals of each one of her theories. The talent, why she believed he had it, and why it was important. "Alright," she cleared her throat once for good measure before going on, "my first theory is Ultimate Detective."

"Interesting. Why is that?"

"Well, um, during the trial, you figured out who the killer was way before everyone else. Everyone gives me the credit because—" no one trusts you "—I gave you my support in your theory."

Dipper stayed stationary.

"When the. . .body was discovered, you immediately went to investigate it." It felt weird to not call the body a person. "You encouraged everyone —even without knowing— that we could do this." Letting out an uncomfortable cough, she continued: "you seem to have all this knowledge of a crime scene, so that is why Ultimate Detective is the first on my list."

Nodding, but keeping quiet, Dipper's face held a rather thoughtful expression.

"Ahem, my second theory is Ultimate—"

"Despair?" Dipper finally spoke.

"I beg your pardon?" Pacifica glanced warily up at him, finally noticing the look on his face. It was grim, with grit teeth, and there was something different in his eyes that filled the room with malice. It was a completely different look from the one he had earlier.

"Think about it, Southeast," Dipper turned to face the pile of books he was investigating earlier, going with her last name now, as if they weren't close enough to be using first ones. "Everything you described could be easily twisted into a more sinister perspective: how would I know who the killer was if I didn't have control over this entire killing game? Why would I be comfortable around corpses if I hadn't done in so many?"

"I am choosing to ignore that." Pacifica crossed her arms, and shuffled past an unstable pile of books to be able to look him in the eye again. "It doesn't make sense."

"Don't be so naive, Miss Journalist." Dipper scoffed. "No one knows what my talent is. You dunno, the other competitors dunno, but perhaps Cipher does." He cast his eyes toward the screen in the corner of the room, "perhaps he is keeping it a secret because he doesn't want my cover to be blown. Better yet, perhaps I actually know what my talent is and I'm just trying to infiltrate yours ranks."

"If that was the case, he would've interfered awhile ago when you made yourself the outcast." Pacifica countered, fiddling with the end of her sleeve. "However, that leads me to my other theory; Ultimate Con-Artist."

Dipper huffed once more, but this one seemed a little less humorous. "I'm sorry, I did not realise that was a talent."

"Think about it," Pacifica held up her hands, trying to ignore the dread crawling up her spine at the mere thought of Dipper being the mastermind. It, just bothered her. She couldn't imagine why. She thought of Scarlett as the mastermind, and somehow that didn't bother her, tried thinking of every single classmate, yet none of them bothered her nearly as much as the thought of him being it. "Con-Artists often have a variety of information at their disposal in order to pass as what they are trying to be."

"You're ridiculous."

"Just!" Her hand shot out to his, without a second thought. Their eyes met for a brief second before Dipper tugged his hand away, his lips curling into a snarl. "Think about it."

Dipper took a few steps away from her, not too many, but enough to put a decent amount of space between them. Hand to his chin, he was silent for a few minutes. Finally, he bit the corner of his bottom lip. "I see how it can make some semblance of sense. Is that all?"

"What?" Pacifica blinked, having been lost in her own head for a little while as she stared at him, waiting for a response. "Oh, um, yes."

"Goodbye." He stalked off and out the doors of the library.

Pacifica opened her mouth to call out to him, but stopped short as the doors closed. Her brain was throbbing and running around in the worst and shortest circles about that boy. How quickly his demeanour flipped from the careful, cold, and calculating persona to the blank, agitated, and furious one.

Pacifica heaved a heavy sigh and thought that perhaps she should let him be on his own for a little bit before she bothered him with more of her own questions, theories, and/or ramblings.

Realising that she still had an hour or so until nighttime —many students suggested actually listening to that curfew and staying in their rooms— Pacifica decided to go off and find Gideon; Ultimate Science Prodigy.

After the motive had been presented, Gideon was a nervous wreck. Pacifica planned to calm him down and make sure he stayed safe. Make sure everyone stayed safe.

Asking a few stragglers about Gideon's whereabouts led Pacifica to the game room in the basement of the school. Literally right across from the library where she had been with Dipper a few minutes ago.

Knocking on the door, Pacifica let out a gasp when she saw who was seated across from Gideon at the card table way in the back of the room. The Ultimate Psychologist herself; Mabel Gleeful.

It wasn't that Pacifica didn't trust Mabel, but her cold blue gaze and cryptic way of phrasing things didn't help.

"Oh, hey Paz!" Gideon waved, his voice terribly enthusiastic even thought it was borderline ten at night. "Whatcha doing here?"

"Checking on you." Pacifica replied slowly, her eyes never leaving Mabel's figure. "Although, I see you're totally fine and I will be—"

"Oh, no need for you to leave." Mabel waved a hand, the other one holding her cards away from sight. "We were looking for some more company."

"Yeah!" Gideon exclaimed. "Wanna join?"

Pacifica sucked in a breath. It would be nice to be able to relax for a moment or two, in Gideon's company —not so much Mabel's— however, she still planned on trying to deduce Dipper's talent.

"Sorry, I um, actually have a lot on my mind. I think I'll call it an early night." She rubbed the back of her neck and inched toward the door.

"Oh?" Mabel met her gaze, an empty eyed look. "It is about Dipper's mystery talent, is it not?"

Pacifica's eyes widened. How in the hell did Mabel know just based on looking at her one time?! She sputtered and tried to come up with a coherent sentence as Mabel laughed lightly at her expression.

"If you're planning on talking to someone in private, perhaps you should close the doors." Mabel's face held a rather despicable yet delightful expression, it was rather unnerving and Pacifica had no idea how someone's face could hold such joy and such despair.

"Whoa, what?" Gideon wrinkled his nose and accidentally dropped his cards, letting Mabel see exactly what he had, perhaps even the camera in the corner of the room saw as well. "I thought you were just keeping an eye on him?"

"I am!" Pacifica stomped her foot in protest, trying not to feel too bothered about the situation. "I am keeping an eye on him, but I also want to help him!"

Mabel laughed her posh little laugh once again. "Oh, honey, he can't be helped. I'm surprised you didn't pick up on that in the first minute of speaking to him."

"Not all of us are the Ultimate Psychologist, Mabel." Gideon rolled his eyes, and then seemed to realise that he dropped his hand. "Oh, shoot! Um, any chance we can re-deal?"

"Anyways," Pacifica interrupted as both Mabel and Gideon resumed their game, with Mabel telling Gideon that she would —under no circumstances— show him such compassion. "I am going to bed. Keep an eye on the clock, you two."

Gideon waved goodbye while Mabel kept her eyes on her cards, a small and terribly sly grin on her face.

"Care for some tea, Gideon?"

~.~After Trial I~.~
~.~Third Freetime Event~.~

The dining hall was more full than usual one evening. Pacifica noticed that Scarlett had walked in and sat near the corner of the room, an angle where she could see everything.

It was such an odd place for the Ultimate Guitarist to be sitting, but Pacifica couldn't fault her for that. After all, they were in a killing game.

The other big difference was that Gideon was sitting in their usual place, yet he had invited Mabel to sit with him.

Pacifica couldn't place it, but there was something off about Mabel, no matter what angle you saw it from. The smiles, the laughs, the always put-together-perfectly face. It wasn't right.

Deciding that she didn't want to deal with Mabel pestering her about her success with the mystery boy —Dipper— and Gideon tagging in whenever he felt like it, Pacifica turned back to leave the room.

Upon her exit of the dining hall, she bumped into someone who was standing right outside the doors.

"O-oh, hey, Dipper." Pacifica gave a light wave, wincing as she did so. Why the hell did she just wave to him?

Dipper seemed to be battling on how to reply to her, which was odd. "Hey, Pazazzie." He went with, and Pacifica could see the internal conflict in him. But, why? Was it because she was getting through to him? Getting him to realise that he wanted to work together with everyone?

It took Pacifica another moment to discover that something else was off. "You're coming to dinner?"

Dipper's nostrils flared instantly. "Of course not." It seemed whatever conflict lived inside at the current moment had been decided and handled.

Pacifica wanted to call him out on the lie he just played, however, she had better things to discuss with him. "Well, then, seeing as you're not coming to dinner, are you free to talk for a bit?"

"Have you more theories to present to me?" Dipper raised a brow, a skilful arch that did something to Pacifica's heart. Pulled and panged like an age-old memory. "Or have you considered Cipher's motive in full and decided to kill me?"

"You know I haven't." Pacifica frowned, fiddling with the brim of her hat.

"The former, then?"

"That's correct." Pacifica stated firmly. "Now, if you want to theorise out here in the open, I can do that, however, if you wanted a little more privacy. . ."

Dipper pondered her unfinished thought, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Very well, have you a place in mind?"

"The library worked well enough last time, so long as we close the doors." Pacifica decided, pointing to where the stairs led.

Dipper started to speed off in the direction of the stairs, calling over his shoulder as he did so, "close the doors? Are you, perhaps, worried that someone will hear us speaking?"

"I don't really care," Pacifica stubbornly lied, rubbing her arm. "But, if we do discover something, or hit a rather serious note" —meaning if they found out he was connected to the entire game— "we can keep it under control."

Dipper nodded, "I appreciate your need for discretion. It seems we agree —yet again— on something."

Pacifica felt her face get hot at the thought of the maybe-compliment she had just received. Was it a compliment? However, they had more pressing matters to discuss, no need to linger on the maybe-compliment, when they could just as easily be discussing his talent.

Upon entering the library, Pacifica was far from surprised that no one was in there, as far as she could tell. Making sure the door was completely shut, she glanced over to where Dipper had wandered to.

"Come along, Miss Journalist." Dipper beckoned with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure we won't have all night."

"Alright, I was thinking about your talent, Dipper." Pacifica walked over to the furthest corner of the room and sat down, wishing she knew what his talent was so she could tag into his interesting choice of nicknames. Dipper just stared at her like she was beyond deranged. "What?"

"You think I am going to sit on that floor?" Dipper asked, turning up his nose at the mere thought.

"Alright, Ultimate Preppy-Asshole." Pacifica shot back biting back a smile, without a second thought. "We're going to be here for awhile, so feel free to keep standing."

Dipper grimaced. "How long is your definition of 'awhile'?"

Pacifica just stared up at him, eyes unblinking. "Hours." She deadpanned.

After a long and rather begrudging minute, Dipper finally sat down next to her. "I sincerely doubt that is my talent, by the way."

Pacifica placed her hand under her chin, resting her elbows on her thighs. "Seems to be the most fitting."

"Care to take this seriously, Southeast?" Dipper cocked a brow, an interesting pairing with the frown on his face. "Or do I have to work alone?"

"Alright alright." Pacifica sighed, resting her head against the shelf behind her. "Another theory of mine is that. . .well," she closed her eyes and tried not to focus on getting the sentence out. "Ultimate Model?"

The library was silent. So quiet that Pacifica regretted even mentioning that theory. She'd dug a hole for herself with that one, hadn't she?

On the other hand, Dipper hadn't said a word yet, and she was just tossing out her theories. Dipper wouldn't be interrupting her if he was this stunned by the last words to come out of her mouth so, hand her a shovel, she's going in.

"From all basic perspectives, you are undeniably attractive." Pacifica continued. "Your height, your build, it all screams model. You're the kind of boy who does face masks at night, and I'm sure you're mad that there aren't any here. And, let's face it, you walk the walk. You think you're better than everyone else, and you act like you're better than everyone else."

Dipper squinted, blue eyes all slits. "All basic perspectives? Is your perspective basic as well?"

"I am not about to admit that I think you're attractive." Pacifica frowned, deep heat pooling in her face. "I mean, sure, I could go on and on about how your eyes are the prettiest shade of blue I have ever seen, but I won't."

Dipper's shoulders hunched, giving off the impression that he was hurt by what she said. It took Pacifica a moment to realise that he was laughing. "What could you possibly be laughing at?!"

"I think you just did." Dipper cackled, standing up and leaning against the shelf for support. "So, you think I'm attractive?"

Pacifica rose from her spot on the floor. "Alright! Seeing as you aren't going to take this seriously," she glanced to the door, heaving a sigh as she did so. What kind of journalist would she be if she let every single comment go to her head and mess with her? "Never mind, can you admit it is a possibility?"

"All of them are possibilities, Southeast." Dipper scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "I am regretting agreeing to this."

"Wait, why?" Pacifica gaped.

"It doesn't matter how many theories we come up with." Dipper explained, pacing the floor, "what matters is that we are not going to figure anything out this way."

"I'm trying!" Pacifica protested. "I was hoping that, somehow, talking about your talent would spark some of your memories!"

"My. . .memories." Dipper murmured. His hands clenched into fists, but released themselves shortly after, his eyes closed and a rough sigh escaped his lips. Finally, he went back to where he was previously sitting, and slumped back down.

"What about your memories?" Pacifica took a lighter tone, almost feeling bad for snapping at him even though he technically started snapping at her first.

"I don't want to talk about it." Dipper replied through grit teeth. He rested his crossed arms on his knees and his head followed.

Pacifica glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and she felt herself relax. Now, more than ever, she definitely did find him more attractive. "Okay, fine, I admit it; you are attractive."

Dipper turned his head away from her.

"But, I'm guessing that isn't what you want to hear." Pacifica sighed and mirrored his position.

Sitting in silence also wasn't what Pacifica wanted. What she wanted to be doing was getting Dipper on her side, that way they could work together with everyone else to get out of this killing game alive. He was the strongest player.

"What do you remember, Southeast?" Dipper mumbled.

"Huh? W-what?" Pacifica jolted up, nearly bonking her head on the shelf. "What do I remember?"

"From your life before. . .before now." Dipper coughed lightly, shifting his body so he was slightly turned toward her.

"Oh," Pacifica fiddled with the brim of her hat, trying to think back to before she woke up here. "Well, I remember my parents. They were the best parents anyone could ever ask for."

Dipper cocked a brow. "Were?"

Pacifica groaned, and dropped her head into her hands. "I'm a realist, Dipper. I'm not the optimist that most people paint me to be. I know, that if I'm here. . .my parents are probably gone."

Dipper murmured his agreement. "I suppose having no memories is better, then, isn't it?"

"Ugh, I dunno." Pacifica groaned again, and closed her eyes. "On one hand, you can go insane trying to think about what you're missing, but on the other, you wouldn't even know them. They could be terrible people, or they could've died long before you came here."

Dipper hummed to show he was listening.

"I, uh, also remember something about me." Pacifica whispered, wrapping a strand of her hair around her finger in a nervous way. "From what I can recall, I've always had trouble sleeping. . .and being here, in this environment," she gestured to the school as a whole, "just enhanced it."

"Insomniac, hm?" Dipper chuckled lightly. "On one hand, I can see how that can be useful."

"Yes," Pacifica nodded very slowly, "however it's—"

"Draining?" Dipper supplied.

"Exactly that." Pacifica nodded. "Wow, either you're super intuitive" —Ultimate Intuition?— "or you've gone through what I've gone through."

Dipper chuckled quietly. "I suppose I have. I wouldn't label mine as 'insomnia' just based on how infrequently it happens. I can usually predict when it will happen, at least once a week, however," he glanced off to the side, "more frequently here."

Pacifica knocked her shoulder against his.

"What the hell was that for?" Dipper narrowed his eyes on hers.

"It's a sign of affection." Pacifica replied, dumbfounded, her eyes closed. God, Dipper was right, she felt super drained.

"Fair enough." Dipper grumbled and leaned more comfortably toward her.

They both are awoken by the body discovery announcement the following morning. Both choose to ignore the fact that they fell asleep together in the library.

And that it was the best night of sleep either had gotten since they arrived.

~.~During Trial II~.~
~.~Fourth Freetime Event~.~

"Dipper has an alibi!" Pacifica shouted, slamming her hands on her little podium. "Stop persecuting him with little to no evidence. At least let him speak." She glanced across the room to meet Dipper's gaze.

There, very faintly, was a look of pure shock.

Mabel cocked a brow. "I'm sorry, I do not understand. You're saying that Dipper has an alibi for the night? How is this possible?"

Pacifica knew that this was a partial lie. Due to how easily she slept, with no interruptions until the announcement, she had no idea if Dipper left in the middle of the night when the murder occurred. However, she trusted him. She just prayed that he trusted her enough to follow her lead. "I am Dipper's alibi. My testimony will show you all that he is innocent."

Cody guffawed. "What? You're his alibi?"

"Let her speak." Scarlett deadpanned, the first time she spoke up.

"Agreed!" Gideon chirped. "Paz has never led us in the wrong direction! I trust her!"

Pacifica nodded grimly. "You see, Dipper and I were working in the library throughout dinner last night. We were working on figuring out any information we could about this place and who could be behind it. Before we knew it, it was morning and the body discovery announcement was going off."

The courtroom went absolutely, spine-chillingly silent.

"You guys. . .spent the night together?" Cody questioned, his words coming out painstakingly slow.

"It is as she says," Dipper nodded, staring deep into Pacifica's eyes, "the two of us have air-tight alibis."

"Are we sure the two of them aren't working together in order to deceive us?" Candy exclaimed, narrowing her eyes.

"Doubtful." Robbie shrugged. "Remember what Cipher said? The accomplice has nothing to gain from working with the killer."

"He's right!" Cipher piped up. "The accomplice will die if you all vote incorrectly!"

"Trust me, guys," Cody held up his hands, "Pacifica isn't stupid enough to work with Dipper."

"Um," Will fiddled with his sweater, and adjusted his glasses. "But didn't they both agree that they were working together?"

The courtroom went off in a raucous uproar, and Pacifica met Dipper's gaze once more amidst the chaos. He shot her a sly smile paired with a subtle wink.

Pacifica gaped at him, knowing the underlying message underneath it all; he knew she lied, and he knew who the killer was.

~.~After Trial II~.~
~.~Fifth Freetime Event~.~

Trudging back to her bedroom for the night, Pacifica shut the door quietly. Once she was inside the confines of her room, she rested her head against her door, trying not to hurl.

Trying to get the horrid execution image from her mind, Pacifica shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She never let anyone else see her so devoid of hope. She had to be the one who held everyone together. Otherwise they were all doomed.

A knock sounded on her door causing Pacifica to jolt her head away from it, rubbing the crown of her head because it actually hurt. It was most likely Gideon coming to see how she was holding up after the trial.

And boy, was it a trial. Pacifica found herself briefly on the opposition to Dipper, and to her every claim, he had a rebuttal. It was terrifying, it was exciting, it was excruciating. It only became worse when Dipper —somehow— roped Mabel onto his side.

The two were strangely systematic while they worked together, and debunking claims and alibis from other people was exhausting. It changed when the suspicion latched onto Dipper, to which Pacifica lied for him. She trusted him, and he showed that he trusted her. . .right?

Luckily, Pacifica finally managed to coerce an alibi and testimony from the silent Scarlett which ended up leading them slowly to the real killer.

And mentioning Scarlett, the girl who had lied to them about who she really was. No, it wasn't anything as bad as her revealing that she was the mastermind, but she wasn't the Ultimate Guitarist like she led them to believe. She was, in actuality, the Ultimate Con-Artist. That crossed that theory off Pacifica's list.

Cipher had revealed it just 'for fun'. It was the first time that Pacifica had seen a genuine reaction on Scarlett's face.

It had been a rough trial, and an even worse aftermath, way worse than the first. And. Cipher had informed them that it would only get worse from there.

The person knocked again and Pacifica wanted to tell them to go away, but then someone would know that she wasn't as okay as she pretended to be.

Sighing, Pacifica unlocked the door and swung it open. Blinking, she saw that it was none other than Dipper; the Ultimate Who-Freaking-Knows.

"Hey, Pazazzie."

"What do you want?" She tried to put on her best happy face while she spoke to him, but it wasn't sticking around. Her tone became flat and her eyes squinting.

Dipper stood there for a moment, and maybe it was because Pacifica was absolutely exhausted, but she could have sworn that he looked anxious? "What's wrong?" She instantly asked, her journalism brain switching on.

"Never mind." Dipper muttered, yet he didn't turn to walk away.

"Are you sure?" Pacifica pressed, opening her door wider to allow him inside. After she learned that Mabel had overheard their previous 'private conversation', she had been more cautious. "If you're here to kill me, do it. I'm sure it'll be a short trial."

Dipper huffed again, his anxious-look disappearing. "I don't plan on killing anyone, Southeast."

"I dunno if I can take your word for it." Pacifica grumbled. "What were you even doing in the trial?! You knew he killed him! You knew it probably long before I did, and yet you went on with the charade!"

Dipper strode into Pacifica's room without asking permission. "I've never seen your room before." He commented, instead of answering her question.

"Please. I'm sure it's no different from yours." Pacifica huffed, crossing her arms after she shut the door.

"Hm, why does mine have a supercomputer where I can see everything?"

Pacifica froze up, her entire back going completely rigid.

"I'm jesting, Miss Journalist." Dipper said flatly. "No, you are correct in your own deductions; my room is practically the same. . ." he trailed off, as he surveyed the room.

Her gut intuition screamed loudly in her head about it. If she was right with her line of questioning, it had something to do with why he was even in her room in the first place.

"Southeast, this may sound like a strange question," Dipper started slowly, dragging each syllable out like it physically pained him.

"After what I've seen here," she gestured to the academy as a whole, "I doubt anything could be more strange."

"Do you, possibly, have unusually large flashlights stored in your closet that were given to you by Cipher?"

Pacifica blinked once. Blinked twice. And a third time. Unusually large flashlights? What happened? Did Dipper hit his head or something?

"Ahem, I'll take it from your strangely blank expression that you do not." Dipper cleared his throat and turned to the door. "My apologies. I will be going—"

"Wait!" Pacifica shot her hand forward again and latched onto his arm.

Dipper's eyes narrowed in a glare at the unwanted touching. "This is the second time in a matter of days that you have done this. If you want me to wait, perhaps ask instead." He shook of her hand.

"The last time I asked you to wait, you sped off to who knows where." Pacifica scoffed. "I apologize, but I need you to wait."

Dipper, surprisingly, didn't move.

"What are you talking about? Giant flashlights?" She paced toward the chalkboard in her bedroom, one where she had quite a few things written down about Dipper that she had forgotten about.

Turning the chalkboard away from his line of sight, she peered at him. "And they were given to you by Cipher? Why? What do they do?"

Dipper strolled over to stand next to her. "I wouldn't know. I don't trust Cipher as far as I can throw him."

"And you shouldn't throw him, because he nearly executed Grenda for that the first time we all met." Pacifica carefully reminded him.

"So, I haven't inspected them." Dipper concluded.

"Wait, really?" Pacifica raised a brow, a little shocked. "You've inspected almost every other thing here, why wouldn't you look into those?"

"I won't look into those things because as far as I know, I was the only one who received such an item." Dipper growled.

"How are you sure?" Pacifica pressed.

"I asked you, haven't I?" Dipper replied smoothly. "Unless you're lying to me, which I doubt truly. I've heard your lies during the class trials, it's a wonder everyone else believes them."

Pacifica decided to ultimately ignore the backhanded compliment. "Why you?"

"I haven't a clue." Dipper sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Why?"

"I believe I already answered your question." He stated rather flatly.

"No," Pacifica shook her head, "I didn't finish in time, sorry. I mean why me? Why are you telling me about this?"

"If I'm being honest, I hadn't planned on telling you." Dipper admitted very slowly. "I wanted to just inspect your room, like I've done with everyone else's—"

"—creepy—"

"—and be on my merry way." Dipper finished. "However, it's come to my attention that you are. . .trying to assist me with what my talent actually is."

Pacifica suddenly realised what he was getting at. Sure, it was far from the answer she wanted, but she would take it. "You think these flashlights have something to do with your talent?"

"No, not exactly." Dipper shook his head, peering at the chalkboard with squinting eyes. "What talent would pair with giant flashlights?"

"Okay, fair point. But, then what?"

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself as he did. Pacifica could only pick up a few words amidst his mutterings. Stupid and plan.

"Come with me." Dipper instructed, walking toward the door, moving almost a mile a minute.

Pacifica followed, albeit reluctantly. It wasn't that she doubted Dipper, but they were still in a killing game. One word out of the two was what Dipper showed to take seriously. However, he was telling her about something that he hadn't told anyone else. If they were even real. What if it was a trap? And she was about to die?

"Oh, please take your time." Dipper drawled, leaning against the door frame. "I'm sure we have all night."

Sticking her courage to the sticking place, Pacifica picked up the pace and borderline ran after him.

Shutting the door as quietly as possible as to not wake or disturb anyone else, Pacifica made a mental note that she had never actually seen where Dipper's bedroom was.

When she saw Dipper heading to the staircase on the right side, she let her eyes scan the four rooms that were up on the right side of the whole room.

Pacifica glanced away from the three other rooms on the floor. They wouldn't be used anymore. Talking with Dipper in the confines of her own room had made her nearly forget where they actually were, and what had actually just happened.

"Contrary to what I said earlier, I do not believe that we have all night. And I wouldn't appreciate you falling asleep in my room. You saw how they all reacted." Dipper frowned as he unlocked his door. "You are making me sincerely regret telling you anything."

"You know you won't solve it on your own." Pacifica shot back, her words nearly being stolen from her mouth as she realised that this was the first time, in her entire seventeen years of living that she had been inside a boy's bedroom. It felt. . .strangely domestic.

His room was exactly like hers, save for the giant chalkboard. It was structured the same way, yet lacked any personal touch. It seemed that Cipher didn't want him to figure out what his talent was. Then, what was with the flashlights?

"You won't deduce anything about my talent from this bedroom." Dipper retorted, stepping over to the closet. "Believe me, it is a feat even you cannot accomplish."

"Does that mean you are impressed by my talent?" Pacifica gave him a small smile.

"Don't be ridiculous, that is wacky nonsense." Dipper waved a hand offhandedly and pulled open the closet doors, yet Pacifica could see the small smile on his face that he tried to hide. "I am not impressed by your talent, more so what you can do with it. You've proven to be a worthy opponent and an even more worthy partner."

"Is that you complimenting me?" Pacifica asked.

"Consider it a warning." Dipper pulled out the three flashlights that he had stored away in the closet. "I know you think everyone wants to stick together, however, you have no idea what these people are capable of. You have put quite the heavy target on your back."

That was not what Pacifica had wanted to hear. His words could not have been spoken more plainly; if someone wanted to successfully become the blackened, they would have to take her out. She shuddered at the mere thought.

"A-are those the flashlights?" Pacifica winced at her stammering tone.

"Yes." Dipper murmured, hefting one of them up on the desk nearest to the closet. "They all have numbers on them. I'm not sure if Cipher is trying to make a joke, but, none of them are in order."

Pacifica walked over to the desk and looked over the three flashlights sitting there. Dipper was right, the numbers were all out of order. A '2', a '4', and a '6'. "What do you think they do?"

Dipper rolled his eyes. "They're flashlights. What do you think they do?"

"Hey, you're the one who thinks they have something to do with your talent." Pacifica scoffed.

"Something like that." Dipper picked up the flashlight labelled '2' and pointed it toward Pacifica. "If this isn't actually a flashlight," he looked down, and then back up, "forgive me, Southeast."

"Wait what are you-?!"

Dipper flicked the switch.

Pacifica blinked a few more times before she saw a rushing scene before her. She was no longer in Dipper's bedroom. Instead, she was in a massive garden.

There was a huge building looming behind her, yet that was not what she focused on. She saw a boy, one who looked an awful lot like Dipper. Yet, this boy had pretty and warm brown eyes.

A towering figure looked down on him, yet Pacifica could not see who it was. They were blurred out, like a bad angle in a Polaroid. However, she could see the look on the boy's face.

It was more expressive than she had ever seen on him before. It was wild; anger, frustration, yet sadness.

"I don't want to be you." He spoke, the boy's voice the only one that Pacifica could hear.

The boy flinched as the figure struck him across the face, Pacifica couldn't help but let out a gasp.

The dark, obscured figure walked away, and soon, a smaller figure approached him. The long hair on the smaller figure made Pacifica assume it was a girl.

She placed her hand on the boy's arm, yet he pulled away.

Pacifica rubbed her eyes to try to get the hazy and blurriness out of her eyes, yet when her eyes readjusted, she wasn't there.

"—east?! Southeast? Are you alright?"

She blinked, her eyes now adjusting to the dim room. She was back inside the stupid academy, yet she was laying on the floor.

Dipper kneeled next to her, shaking her shoulders. Pacifica expected to see some sense of compassion in his eyes, but she was met with a blank slate.

Pacifica's eyes shot wide open as she bolted up from the floor and made a mad dash to the bathroom.

She barely made it to the toilet before she vomited. Hyperventilating, she tried to catch her breath as soon as possible. How did that happen? What even happened?

She hardly noticed his presence by her side. He waited very patiently until she was finished hurling.

"What happened, Southeast?" Dipper asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"I-I've gone mad." She gulped. "Yup, only explanation. I'm mad; the full nine-yards, off my rocker, completely bonkers."

"Southeast, snap out of it." Dipper snapped. "What happened?"

"This is going to sound nuts." Pacifica panted and wiped the side of her mouth with the back of her hand. "But, I think I saw you."