Logs:Look Ahead

Look Ahead
Dramatis Personae VOSCO, Vok
In Absentia Avi, Halim, Jax	2024-11-05 "So how long you think before the feds come back here for another round?"
Location <XAV> Batcave - Xs Residence Hall
Accessible by sliding pole or elevator from the rec room above, the dormitory basement is austere, with concrete walls and industrial lighting that throws the exposed steel and ductwork into stark relief. Along one wall is a row of computers with a massive holographic interface, the chassis detailed in blue and yellow, with swivelling office chairs upholstered in black leather. Branching off from the computer room is a well-outfitted training gym, though much smaller than those in the Athletic Center; an enormous penny hangs on the wall beside the treadmills. Guarding the door to the students' garage next door is an enormous animatronic T-rex, periodically wagging its tail or yawning. Rumors that it will bite you if sufficiently harassed are still unsubstantiated. It's getting busier and noisier down here as it approaches dinnertime, with a cluster of students putting together some kind of interactive 3D slideshow for a group project. There's another group working on a large jigsaw puzzle on the floor, and two kids further back kicking a big blue exercise ball back and forth, probably this will end in tragedy. Roscoe has staked out the second-to-last computer in the row, is sitting in a hunchy crouch in the chair, the hood of his sweatshirt (bright blue, with an orange and white DBZ decal on the front) pulled up, drawstrings in a tidy bow under a small window for his face. He's playing Roblox, some mini-game that's a cross between a shooter and a knockoff of Grand Theft Auto; currently his avatar is ramming a bright yellow Camaro into a donut shop amid what looks like a wild but very stupid car chase. At least he is considerately wearing earbuds, probably -- they're not visible through the hood, but the computer isn't making any noise apart from Roscoe clicking at the keyboard. Tok goes whipping down the sliding pole, their clawed fingers not providing much resistance to slow them down, but they don’t seem all too concerned about that. Their hair is tousled and their sweatshirt slightly askew, like they’d just come running from somewhere. There’s a sharp grin on their face, almost nervous excited, tail flicking behind them eagerly, and they’re only affording the pole entrance one last hasty glance before they move deeper into the room, hands shoved into their jacket pockets, and their tail coiling around their waist under the fabric. Once they’ve spotted Roscoe—and realized it’s him with the way he’s crouched in his chair and sweatshirt—they beeline for him, last second lurching out of the way from the flying exercise ball on the way over. They grab the office chair beside Roscoe’s and do a sort of jump-sit, allowing it to rolllllll until it stops close beside his chair. “Hey hey! This two player?” They lean a little too closely into his space to squint at the screen closer, “Damn what’d that donut shop ever do to you!” Roscoe leans away as Tok is leaning in, cuts them a glance but then quickly looks back to the game -- "Well people are shooting, I'm not getting out of the car," he says, like ramming it through the donut shop was a perfectly reasonable compromise. "You can just look me up and hop in, I'm vosco." He pokes one hand, juuust the tip of his finger protruding from his sleeve, at his avatar's name on the screen, where he now has hopped out of the car to grab a donut (his health bar is ticking back up as he does.) "You're gonna have to start at the bottom, I've been on this one for a minute." To illustrate this, VOSCO breaks out a rocket launcher to fire back at another couple of prospective donut robbers before getting back in the car and vrooming off. Tok slouches back in their seat to watch, causing it to spin a little, and the arm rest bumps into Roscoe’s. They give a little cheer of encouragement when the rocket launcher comes out and they’re immediately reaching forward to power on their own computer. They shift their weight forward towards the second computer so the chair rolls forward without needing to get up, and they turn it on. “Vosco? Real clever.” Their claws tap at the keyboard to boot up the game, type in his username. “That’s like naming myself…Vok or something.” Even as they say this, they’re typing in the username ‘Vok’ and joining the game. They pick prisoners and begin, keyboard clicks much slower and clunkier than Roscoe’s. “Any teachers cut you slack for assignments last week?” "You would be named 'Kok' actually," says Roscoe, glancing fleetingly aside with his nose wrinkled in amusement. Vok, alas, is spawning alone and empty-handed in a prison cell far far away from VOSCO's crime spree, good luck! Roscoe is offering no pointers at this time, just busily robbing a gun store, eyebrows scrunching together quizzically over his nose. "Tawadros did, that's how you know it's bad," he says. Tok squints at the screen, the name taking a second to process, then they snort and shove at the arm of Roscoe’s chair half heartedly, “HAH! They’d probably kick me from the lobby for a name like that.” They return their hands to the keyboard and their little Roblox guy runs around in circles in the prison cell, “Shit really? I heard he’s a real stickler for due dates and all that.” They glance at Roscoe from the corner of their eye, “Makes sense though, people freaked.” They begin tap a few keys experimentally to try and use some items they picked up. One of them opens up the menu and they almost accidentally quit the game. "I didn't say it was a lot of slack." Roblox Roscoe is stealing himself a new car now (Dodge Challenger) and taking off again. "And you didn't?" “Pshh nah.” Tok’s voice pitches up slightly. They finally find the key that opens up the inventory, “Was with Avi.” Their ear flicks, the one on Roscoe’s side, and they don’t expand more on that, probably don’t need to. “Forgot my jacket though, and I never do that. Sucked.” Their character bumps into a few walls. “You freak?” "Please," comes in immediate and possibly inappropriately amused rejoinder, "didn't you guys got shot at." It is hard to see Roscoe cutting a glance aside at Tok's screen, past the draped fabric of his hood, but he heaves a very dramatic and woebegotten sigh, and soon the Dodge Challenger is roaring back toward the prison to the rescue. He pauses just once to rob another gun store. "'Course not. I saw them coming way ahead of time." “And I was totally cool calm and collected.” Tok looks over between the two screens and their character begins jumping about when they see Roscoe’s car coming back for the prison, grinning wide at his sigh. They’ve gotten themself out of one of the areas at least. “I mean- yeah I kinda did too but-” They stop, “Oh oh. Literally saw them coming. Shit that’s cool.” Their shoulders raise, only an inch, “Maybe that’s sucks actually, being able to see’em coming.” "You --" this was definitely headed somewhere sort of rude, judging by the scoffy disbelief in Roscoe's voice, but he drops the act out of sheer bafflement -- "Uh, yeah, I meant literally, usually when I say I saw something I mean it literally. What, you knew the feds were gonna raid us? Didn't think to warn anybody?" By the end of this he's regained his good humor, is rolling his eyes behind the hood. "You fucking kidding? I love being able to see things coming." Tok’s grin grows even larger at Roscoe’s bafflement, like they’ve won something. “Yeah actually, I’m the one who called the feds on Mr. Jax. Can you believe it?” They play along, then drop it, “Nah, just figured it would happen eventually.” They shrug, tapping away at the keys sort of distractedly, opening and closing and reopening their inventory, then taking out a new item to try something new to break out of the prison. “I think If I saw all those guys coming I’d’ve jumped out the window Wile E. Coyote style.” They say, jokingly but maybe a little not. VOSCO pulls the car over, then -- with another tremendous sigh -- hops out and abandons it on the curb to start shooting his way inside. Roscoe is just looking at his screen, now, brows furrowed in a pinchy frown. "Uh-huh. Sure you weren't freaked out?" Tok’s character heads towards a wall nearby where Roscoe is. They’re (very slowly) putting together some supplies they’ve found to make a little cartoon stick of C4. “Course not. Totally didn’t-” the bomb goes off, and they run into the next room through the blasted wall, “Accidentally trade my nose. That would just be embarrassing.” "Weirdly specific." Roscoe grins, brief and buck-toothed behind his hood, but he doesn't poke at this any further, too busy looting the guards and prisoners he's been indiscriminately slaughtering. "Don't kill me when I get there, that would be really ungrateful." Tok laughs, “My fists against your bazooka? Ain’t no way I’m taking my chances with that!” Their tail has, by now, unwound itself from their waist and waves excitedly behind them in anticipation. They’re close! They manage to dodge a guard that shoots at them somehow. “So how long you think before the feds come back here for another round?” They yelp and manage to dodge another spray of bullets, “I think they definitely got some suspicions now.” Their tail shifts from its smooth waving to a bit of a twitchy stuttering one. "Shoot, I don't see that far ahead." Roscoe makes it to the prison's common area, shoots the guard menacing Tok. He's frowning again -- even with only a small amount of his face visible with his hood's drawstrings pulled, all his features have scrunched themselves pinchily into view -- but he doesn't answer the question. Just says, "Come on before someone steals my car."