Time of Writing: 11:60 PM/AM
Head Count: 7
Conscious Minds: 0
Depravity. Exhaustion. Anxiety. Tiredness. Hunger.
No one escapes. No one lives.
As of this writing, not a single soul was sane. We have fallen into the abyss of depravity. Two people were playing with the stepper motor. Another two were fixing the robot with 0% presence of mind. One was watching videos about pranks. Two were using a steel bar and one of Fuego's wheels to play baseball. That's it for the status report of the members. Number of Casualties: 7.
This was the last day of the periodic exams, where our productivity should be nearing its maximum level, and at first, it was going well. The Prez went out for a while to buy cola, while the rest were busy building the robot. The frame was fixed and the preparations for the cannon were finished. Unfortunately, our premier all-rounder had caught some glass powder in the eyes, and so he was sent to the ER, where he made his last will and testament (not really, but still). Ouch. Number of Casualties: 1
In the afternoon, journalism training was up. With half of the Robotics team involved, our numbers gradually dwindled until only 3 were left. The good thing is that we managed to test the pneumatics system with a makeshift cannon. It was good, but it could be even better. Now onto Side B: the wheels. Even now, we still haven't figured out a solution to the slow and sometimes unresponsive movement of the wheels when moving forward or backward. The godforsaken things even need to be readjusted every time. We needed tools, so we went out to get some from the faculty room. This was where the long road began: one slipped, and one got sprinkled by Terminator powder. Such a fun day. Number of Casualties: 3
The dogs began to howl - it's night. Under the new moon, hunger and exhaustion claimed our minds and souls. We did crazy stuff no one else can ever relate to. In the midst of the insanity, the smell of smoke and fried dreams filled the air. The hybrid motor has fallen. Number of Casualties: 8
To whoever set their eyes upon this, this is a warning. NEVER WORK OVERNIGHT.
Head Count: 7
Conscious Minds: 0
Depravity. Exhaustion. Anxiety. Tiredness. Hunger.
No one escapes. No one lives.
As of this writing, not a single soul was sane. We have fallen into the abyss of depravity. Two people were playing with the stepper motor. Another two were fixing the robot with 0% presence of mind. One was watching videos about pranks. Two were using a steel bar and one of Fuego's wheels to play baseball. That's it for the status report of the members. Number of Casualties: 7.
This was the last day of the periodic exams, where our productivity should be nearing its maximum level, and at first, it was going well. The Prez went out for a while to buy cola, while the rest were busy building the robot. The frame was fixed and the preparations for the cannon were finished. Unfortunately, our premier all-rounder had caught some glass powder in the eyes, and so he was sent to the ER, where he made his last will and testament (not really, but still). Ouch. Number of Casualties: 1
In the afternoon, journalism training was up. With half of the Robotics team involved, our numbers gradually dwindled until only 3 were left. The good thing is that we managed to test the pneumatics system with a makeshift cannon. It was good, but it could be even better. Now onto Side B: the wheels. Even now, we still haven't figured out a solution to the slow and sometimes unresponsive movement of the wheels when moving forward or backward. The godforsaken things even need to be readjusted every time. We needed tools, so we went out to get some from the faculty room. This was where the long road began: one slipped, and one got sprinkled by Terminator powder. Such a fun day. Number of Casualties: 3
The dogs began to howl - it's night. Under the new moon, hunger and exhaustion claimed our minds and souls. We did crazy stuff no one else can ever relate to. In the midst of the insanity, the smell of smoke and fried dreams filled the air. The hybrid motor has fallen. Number of Casualties: 8
To whoever set their eyes upon this, this is a warning. NEVER WORK OVERNIGHT.
