Logs:Teenage Mutant Were-Bug-Aliens

Teenage Mutant Were-Bug-Aliens
Dramatis Personae Roscoe, Tok	2024-05-22 "Is this gonna be my legacy? I offer a hand and people think I'm gonna steal their hands?"
Location <XAV> Computer Lab - Xs First Floor
All modernism in contrast to the old-world elegance of most of the mansion, this room has been dragged into the twenty-first century wholeheartedly. Rows of top-of-the-line computers provide internet access to any students who lack their own in their rooms, and sleek tablets give the mansion's artists a place to practice their digital art when the art studio does not suffice. Whether knuckling down to pull an all-nighter on a research paper or simply killing time browsing, students can be found in here at all hours in front of the glows of the screens. It's getting kind of late in the evening, and with many classes still in a kind of post-aliens limbo perhaps it is not a surprise to find a good number of students in the computer lab clicking away. Roscoe is tucked away at the far wall, sitting with his feet curled up in the chair with him, dressed kind of bland in a white tee, black shorts, crew socks (his shoes are under his chair, where the laces will get tangled in the wheels if he tries to move.) On the screen is an aggressively neon Roblox mini-game called ALIEN ATTACK! that Roscoe is losing terribly with only his left hand on the keyboard -- his right arm is in a sling across his chest, neatly bandaged and heavily bruised. He's not very frustrated by this, even though the game is sort of negging him in pop-up comments, just doggedly shooting cute cartoonish spaceships. Tok darts between each door in the hallways of the school, quickly peeking their head inside, double checking the sign, and skedaddling off to another room. Finally, they open the door to the computer lab, peek their head in, and is about to run out before doing a double take, spotting Roscoe in the corner. Tok’s ears perk up, and they enter. They duck their head down a little, avoiding eye contact with some of the other students as they make their way across the room. Their clothes are baggy, exposing two small dark patches of alien exoskeleton on the sides of the base of their neck that hadn’t quite faded with the rest of their bug traits. The dark bags that are usually eternally under their eyes are darker today, like they hadn't slept well. Their tail, specifically the end of it, might be missing a few more patches than usual. They pull a chair over with their tail and wordlessly take the seat next to Roscoe. “Heyhey. Can I sit here?” They say quietly, to not disturb the other students. They’re also already sitting. “I was lookin’ all over for you. Weren’t in your dorm so I checked a buncha places.” They seem like they’re about to continue steamrolling ahead, but they tilt their head to get a peek at what he’s playing, distracted. “Heh. Uh…you winning?” Roscoe glances quick to the side, but doesn't answer at first. (Tok is already sitting, anyway.) "Found me," he says, eyes darting back to his screen just as his avatar dies in a fiery explosion. "Naw, I'm losing pretty bad. Whatchu wanted?" Tok glances down at Roscoe’s arm, the one in the sling, concern flashing across their face. “Yeah…I can see th…uh.” They quickly abort that statement. “Wanted to…I dunno. Make sure you hadn’t like, got eaten by an alien. Or something.” Their tail wraps around their waist and they play with the fur on the end of it. “Well, I knew you didn’t get eaten. But I knew you were in the city when uh…yknow. The whole freakin sky opened up.” They gesture towards the ceiling with their hands. “So uh…Your arm okay?” This time Roscoe's glance aside is a little longer, more considering, while his computer game is just displaying its YOU DIED message. "Oh," he says -- only now he tugs one of his cheap wired earbuds out of his ear, waggles his injured arm at Tok. "Only a little bit eaten," he says. "I was lucky, I was with -- my friends had my back. I heard you got a real badass level-up." Tok eyes the game, the bruises, briefly looking up to Roscoe’s face before glancing away. “Heh. a little bit eaten? Better than a lotta bit eaten. And hey! Maybe you get a cool scar out of it!” At the mention of their ‘level-up’, they shrug, but there’s tension in it. Again, they’re glancing up towards Roscoe’s face, to try to get read maybe. “Yeah? It…was pretty cool.” They admit with a small smile, “Don’t think I’ll get the chance to uh, be a bug again. Unless we fight more bugs. But Avi and Nevaeh were way cooler honestly.” They spin around a few times in the computer chair. “Hope we don’t gotta fight more bugs.” Roscoe restarts the game, gets back to shooting his fake aliens. "Oh it's gnarly," he says cheerfully. "It's gonna look so cool." He darts another very quick look at Tok, eyes quickly finding the exoskeleton patches on their neck, before his attention turns back to his screen, his grin small but toothy as Tok spins in the chair. "Yeah, Avi and Nevaeh are cool," he agrees, "but they're not scary. You are scary." He says this with a kind of laudatory awe, still clicking away at his game, and adds a few moments later, in the manner of a postscript, "I hope so too." Tok pauses their spinning, watching Roscoe carefully, like they're trying to fit his tone and his words together in his mind. Eventually, they grin, "Scary? NAH there's nothin' about me that's scary. I'm only as scary as the thing I'm lookin at." They inspect their claws, "Although, your face is pretty scary, so maybe you do got something to be worried about." They say, teasingly. They then slide their chair in closer, "Ay, you want a right arm? You do the left controls I'll do the right ones? See how far we get." Roscoe shrugs, evidently unsurprised that this compliment is not landing, eyes still trained on his computer screen. "I'm not scary," is all he says. He does look over, eyes flinching a little wider with alarm, a moment later -- "No thank you I like my arms" -- before the part of Tok's offer he talked over seems to render in his mind, "Oh, oh. Uh." He slides his chair closer to the wall, slides the keyboard down the desk at Tok in wordless invitation. Tok takes a second, then bursts out laughing at his reaction, "I'M NOT- I'm not taking your arms. Your arm would still be broken anyways, then you'd just have my arm, but broken." They put their hands on the controls to cover the right side. They skim through some of the pop ups, attempting to coordinate their moves with Roscoe's to cover the controls on the right side. "Is this gonna be my legacy? I offer a hand and people think I'm gonna steal their hands? Maybe not the worst legacy. Either way I don't need your uh...Flatscan lookin hand. Hey what do you think would happen if I swapped my eyes with Mr. Summers. Bad things right? What about our eyes? I've been told my eyesight apparently isn't very good. I might need glasses." They ramble as they attempt to play the right controls of the game. "It's not broken! Just a little bit -- bit." Roscoe abandons his alien shooting momentarily to tilt the computer monitor for Tok to see better, angles his chair to make more room. "I'unno. Guess I can't stop you," is said very casually, like he doesn't care either way, but a moment later, still staring at the computer screen, Roscoe admits, "I like my eyes, too, me and these boys been through a lot together." He summons a little more pep to add, "If you need fancy mutant glasses I betcha the docs here will rustle something up. You know Summers isn't buying those ugly things in a store." Tok snorts, "Hey maybe he's livin' in the future. Maybe in a few years everyone'll be rocking glasses like those." They adjust to the angle, starting to play a tad better. It's not much better, but then again, they're attempting to coordinate half controls with someone so maybe it's not too bad. "And have they? I ain't touchin' your eyes then." They say, casting a glance towards them, but very quickly looking back to the game, "And right right it's not broken, just a little bit eaten. Hey you think you're gonna turn into a Bug-alien werewolf? A BugWolf? A WereBugAlien? There it is." Roscoe grins fleetingly -- "I'unno, I never thought of that," he says, glancing with wide eyes down at his arm. "Well, if I do, maybe you'll have another shot at being a WereBugAlien." Tok grins, "Hey I'd take that!" Tok nearly messes up and almost causes them to die, but they manage to recover, "Maybe you could do it during exams. I know they're kinda not counting this year but still." Their tail has unwound itself from their waist and waves back and forth. "Hey what did'ya mean when you were all like Me and these boys been through a lot together." They mimic, and maybe it's not the worst impression, "You seen alot? You got robot eyes? That would be cool. I want robot eyes--actually, no I don't." "I bet that's an automatic A," Roscoe decides confidently, "Like how if the school burns down during the exam, they legally have to pass you. Sucks I won't be around to get the A, they'd probably have to kill me to protect the planet." His gaze is intent on the computer screen now, eyes narrowed just slightly; he smiles very briefly. "Oh. I was being dramatic. They're just eyes," he says. "But, sure. You could say I seen a lot." Tok shakes their head, "Unfortunate. But a warriors death! I would defend you till my final-." They yelp when they nearly cause them to die again, but barely scraping by, "What's one of he coolest things you ever seen. I once saw two hot dog vendors in their hot dog suits having a sword fight with the hot dogs they were selling." Roscoe shrugs. "I seen so many epic fights, I don't think I can choose," he says, though he tilts his head like he's putting very serious thought into a hypothetical tier list -- "Is it still a fistfight if nobody involved has hands?" But, ultimately, his answer is, "I grew up in Boston, but for a while I lived out in the boonies, in Ohio. First time I saw all the stars out there, that was cool." But then he flashes a very quick grin -- "You turn into a giant alien again, maybe I change my answer."