ArchivedLogs:In Which Time Travel Is Planned But Not Executed

In Which Time Travel Is Planned But Not Executed
Dramatis Personae Hercules, Jack, Sergio, Taylor	2015-10-24 << In about a minute, I'm gonna start walking around in a SARS mask. >> (Part of Sick TP.)
Location <XS> Rec Room - FL2
School this may be, but life for Xavier's students certainly isn't all studying. Outside classes, this is a popular spot to find students in their downtime. An enormous tribute to slacking off, this room is a wealth of fun and relaxation. Comfortable armchairs, couches, and beanbags offer plentiful seating scattered throughout the room, and the cushioned windowseats by the high windows offer a cozy nook to curl up and look out on the grounds. The room is often filled with the noises of gaming -- whether it comes from the big-screen television (tall racks of DVDs beside it, if nothing can be found on the multitude of cable channels), tricked out with consoles from retro to the latest releases, or the less electronic clatter and thump of the pool table, air hockey, or foosball. For those a little more subdued in their gaming, the cabinets hold stacks and stacks of board and card games, ranging as classic as chess and go to as esoteric as Dixit, Catan, and Gloom. More days than not, there's some variety of snacks to be found on a table beside the gaming cabinet -- quite often in the form of fresh-baked desserts. With the recent influx of students, the Rec Room is as busy as anyone might expect it to be on a weekend. Scream Queens is on the television, and the sound of bitchy sorority girls getting slaughtered clashes with music pumping from the other side of the room. Perceivable only to fellow telepaths, Sergio's residual self-image is clean and robust. In contrast to his current physical state, the psychic avatar is tanned and has retained what muscle mass Sergio may have lost in the past year and a half. With his strong, freshly cut, black hair gelled up and his crisp letterman jacket stretching where his shoulders broaden, the fledgling telepath drifts into the room just like anybody else would -- except to almost everyone else, he's invisible. Furrowing his brow in worried thought, he searches the room. The school's resident ghost of dirty laundry...who isn't really a ghost, just an invisible guy named Jack, is flopped back in a beanbag chair. In jeans that look newer than his usual ones and a school hoodie, he's got the hood up and is reading a copy of 'The Private Investigator's Handbook'. The invisible teen's humming along to the music even if he doesn't know the song. Taylor looks Kind Of Tired as he tromps into the rec rom, dragging himself back into school after a shift of work in the city all day. He's got a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, a bottle of soda in one tentacle, a takeout bag of food in one hand, laptop gripped in a different limb, a small pastry box in another. Tromp, tromp, tromp, straight past Sergio to slump down in a beanbag nearby Jack and stare at the television without much interest. But after a moment, look /up/ again, confusion writing itself across his features. To anyone else, it likely looks like he's looking off towards an empty corner. Then back down at his unopened bag of food. Then bag towards the corner. His head shakes in confusion, mind unthinkingly skipping out in reflexive assessment of the various surface-thoughts of those around. << Something wrong? >> This, to Sergio, at the worried expression. In one of the farther corners from the door, sacked out in one of the beanbags, is Hercules. His face and general demeanor is that of someone under the weather. Every now and then he raises a handkerchief to his mouth to cough. A steaming mug of tea is settled on one of the side tables nearby, as well as a package of cough drops. The music and Scream Queens competition doesn't seem to phase him all that much. << Ugh. I hope this goes away soon. I hate colds. >> Herc seems to be entertained by something on a tablet he holds, occasionally laughing... which leads to more coughing. << Why the hell is he all bandaged up? Who hurt him? What has he been getting himself into? I can't just ask, he'll think I was just another spying telepath. I can't lose him. >> Sergio's surface thoughts are mostly concerned with Jack, but anyone who has ever spoken to him for more than ten minutes probably already knew that. He catches Taylor looking back in his direction again, and blushes. When he's actually mentally addressed, he winces. Busted! He brings up his fingers to his lips with a pleading expression and backs up a few paces into the doorway. << What's good? >> Sergio's own telepathic voice is projected outward, into the minds of anyone around him as if he were speaking. He overcompensates by trying to sound /extremely/ upbeat. Invisible to everyone else in the room, he makes a pleading gesture to Taylor with both hands clasped together in prayer. Jack's surface thoughts are mostly about the book and what being a private eye would be like. Unaware that his roommate has projected into the room, Jack glances up when Taylor gets closer, an unseen smile on his face. "Hey, Taylor. Welcome back," he greets. "Long day out there?" he asks. The coughing fit has Jack glancing over his shoulder in concern. "Wonder if the school offers flu shots or anything," he murmurs mostly to himself. << Well, >> Taylor's mental voice sounds more than a little /self/-conscious, << to be fair, you /were/ spying. >> There's more amusement when he adds: << You /could/ just ask, though. >> He sets down his things one after the other after the other, shifting around in the beanbag to squish it until it has conformed into Just The Right cozy Taylor-shaped seat. "Is that interesting? Veronica Mars has taught me that being a Private Eye involves a lot of /really/ snappy comebacks." He twists the cap off of his Coke, swigging from it first. The actual food can wait. "I don't know if /we/ have any. I heard like. The entire city is out of flu shots." This may be a small exaggeration but the news is prone to drama. "Work was /so/ swamped and way understaffed." Hercules looks up at Taylor as he settles down and comments about flu shots and work being swamped. He clears his throat, "Hey Taylor. Yeah, Jax scared the crap out of me with that tsunami-storm thing he projected through the doorway. It was a good laugh, but for a moment I thought everyone was about to get flooded out into the street. I never saw people move so fast out of their seats before." He raises an eyebrow. "Er, out of flu shots?" << Is this the flu? Oh shit. Hmm. I should go down to the med bay and ask them to look... >> "I uhm think this is just a bad cold. I hope." The large teen grins, and waves. "Hey Jack. How goes the costume making?" << Man, I am really curious as to what it is now. This dance is going to be cool. >> << I know, I know... >> Sergio thinks towards Taylor. The teen slouches guiltily, wandering closer to the couch. He appears to perch on it's arm. << Dude, Veronica Mars is the shit! I use her name as verb /all the time./ And I so want a dog named 'Backup.' >> Sergio broadcasts to the room. He throws an unseen frown of concern over towards Hercules, << Have you been to the nurse's office? They've got to be able to do something for you, right? Don't just suffer through it. >> "The book's pretty interesting. I'm finding out there's some stuff I could actually do...if I get into this," Jack replies, just a little embarrassed. << Maybe I really could do this detective thing when I graduate... >>. "I'd need to work on my snappy comeback skills if I do try to be an investigator," he laughs a bit. "Understaffed? People calling out sick?" he guesses, looking as sympathetic as an empty hood can. "Costume's all done, Herc," he replies with an unseen grin. He's pretty happy about this fact. Sergio's sudden telepathic voice makes Jack jump slightly but he chuckles. "It's true, he does use her name a lot." "Yeah, some people sick and Shane usually fills in but he's -- out of the country --" Taylor's brow rumples, pensive, at Hercules's comment. "Oh! Oh, yeah, that was startling -- I don't know about a good laugh, he's probably -- really exhausted though." Several of his tentacles shrug. "Deeefinitely startling. Bringing work home is like holy /fuck/ in his case." He tips his head over towards where Sergio is sitting, grinning broad. "I /know/ right? That show was the bomb-ass -- Jack, if you /do/ become a PI, get a dog. /And/ crank up your sass game to eleven. Dude," his brows are lifting suddenly, attention shifting back to Hercules, "/do/ you need anything? Like, uh --" he's frowning down at the takeout food, box of cupcakes, in front of him. Maybe-not-helpful. "... juice? Soup? Even just-a-cold's no fun. Makes for a suck weekend." The large teen looks up at the new voice joining the others, and looks around. "Oh, hey Sergio." Hercules sniffles and lets out a huff of breath. "Well.. I suppose. This could be serious. But I'm going to feel like an arse if it's just a nasty cold. Better that than being one of the four horsemen I guess." He glances over at Jack and grins, "Done already? Awesome. I really look forward to the dance, and your costume. I've heard a few others have got some brilliant ideas also. Halloween is going to be so much fun." The large teen nods to Taylor, "Well, I found it funny. Judging from what Tag and Jax said, you /have/ to find it funny, it's part of the whole Evolve experience, Jax does it so often. So if I have to have a mini heart attack every now and then in exchange for a good belly laugh, that's a fair exchange." Hercules shrugs at his offer. "Nah, I'm alright for now. I'm doing all the stuff Mom used to do for me, soup, orange juice, flat gingerale for the stomach upset. Comfort stuff. Thank you though, I do appreciate you offering to help. If this is the flu, and I end up stuck in bed for like, weeks or something, I wouldn't mind some of the cupcakes or cookies Jax makes. You can just kinda, quickly open the door and toss the box at my bed, yeah?" He chuckles a little, before coughing lightly into his hankie. "Bah. I could almost ignore the cough, but it's this insane tickle in my throat." << His costume is /boss/. >> Sergio makes an explosion motion around Jack's head that really only one person can see. << But if you don't start laying down and getting some rest, you probably aren't gonna see it! My tutu would have nagged me right out of that chair and back into bed if I was you, dude. >> The sound of him chuckling projects outward as he adds jokingly, << You're making me feel like taking an Emergen-C and I'm not even /tech-nic-cally/ in this room with you, Herc! >> "Whatever it is, you should probably get checked out, man. I mean...get it taken care of so you don't suffer or get your roommates sick," Jack offers. It's his turn to be concerned though. << Out of the country? Is he doing X-man stuff? >> he thinks to Taylor. "I'm not sure if I can take care of a dog but I'll look into my sass game. "I don't think throwing cupcakes is good for anyone...or the cupcakes." "No, the /illusions/ are fine, it's just --" Taylor breaks off, taking a swig of his coke and letting Hercules continue speaking. He takes a gulp of his soda again, setting it down and opening up his food, finally. << Big-ass fucking hurricane in Mexico, >> he affirms to Jack. << Think Jax must have been pretty shaken, he brought a goddamn /storm/ with him when he stopped by Evolve today. >> This comes with a mental image; Jax and his mud-caked uniform, the torrential illusion of driving rain and churning muddy water that briefly flooded the cafe. "Can't hurt to buff up your defenses," he says aloud, brighter. "Place like this, one person starts to sniffle, not long before germs are /everywhere/. A few years back I swear to got half the school got the same flu one time -- on the plus side," this is downright cheerful, "they had to cancel exams. Hey!" He looks over at Hercules with a quick bob of eyebrows. "You want to skip ahead a month and cough on all of us right before finals instead?" "It's just what?" He nods then, looking around and chuckling. "Alright, you win, Sergio. I'll go. Now. And bah, you've seen his costume already? Boss, you say? Cool." He looks to Jack and nods. "Well, a battered cupcake is better than no cupcake, I say. Especially if I can't leave my room to go get one." The large teen grumbles as he stands, coughing into that hankie again. He looks to Taylor with a frown. "Like hell I wanna feel like this for months. Though, if we... if we did it right, we could keep the flu going throughout the population of the school long enough for exams to come around. Though, only some of us would get sick at the right time. And bunches of people would be immune to it by then. I could show you the math, if you like? Maybe you could implement it. You'd have to talk to quite a few students though." << You're obviously delirious, thinking anybody here wants to see math. Get some gotdamn cold medicine in you. >> Sergio moves from his post, gliding as a disembodied mind to where Hercules rises as if to offer assistance. As he does so, he looks back over towards Taylor with his talk of flu seasons of years past. << In about a minute, I'm gonna start walking around in a SARS mask. >> << Damn, >> Jack's shoulders tense at the image. << I wish there was something we could do to help out...at least make it easier for Professor Holland... >> he continues the little thought-conversation, placing a marker in his book and finally closing it. He laughs a little at the plans to wage biological war on exams and Sergio's math comment. "If you don't get exposed to the germs you'll never build up an immunity, Sergio." << They'll be fine. They get lots of training, yeah? >> Taylor sounds more hopeful than truly /confident/. Reassuring himself. "Aw helllll no, I got math enough with pre-calc, I ain't 'bout that life." One of Taylor's limbs makes a slicing motion back and forth across his neck. Nix. Nyet. Nope. "Who's talking sick for a month, I'm saying we shoot you and your germs forward in /time/, meet up with the /rest/ of us in November and cancel exams. Anyway shouldn't the sick people be wearing the masks, too?" << I don't know, I don't think we can make the sick people where the masks. That doesn't sound very P.C. >> Sergio muses, his surface thoughts reeling with the realization that Taylor is in pre-calc when he's struggling to pass /algebra/. << Goodnight, Herc. Feel better, dude. >> ... << Now, who do we know who can manipulate the space time continuum? >> << Yeah, >> Jack replies. He takes a moment to convince himself of this before smiling invisibly. "Yeah, let's not deal with math. It's worse than being sick," he jokes. "I'm not sure how much masks help anyway. I never wore them and I barely got more than a cough all the time I was out there in Jersey," he remarks with a shrug. He tenses at the mention of manipulating time and space though, staying silent on it. << Shit. I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of the flu lobby. >> Taylor's mental speak, now, mostly because his mouth is full as he starts digging into his dinner. His hand lifts to Hercules. << Get some rest, man. >> He swallows, gulps down some soda. "Wellll." One of his eyes scrunches up. "Do know some folks. Not so sure they'd think finals is a good enough cause." "Geez, I'm beginning to think some folks here don't like math.", Herc says from the hallway. << I guess we'll just have to suffer through them. >> Sergio surrenders. Jack's tensing provokes his surface thoughts wandering back to the injuries on his invisible roommate. He'll find a way to broach the subject later on. << Anyway, I should get back to the /bod/. Have a study guide project due on Monday if we're still relying on this finals business. >> Jack shakes off thoughts of time travel and smiles invisibly. "I'm sure everyone will get through finals just fine. Well, maybe not me..." he chuckles. Nodding, Jack takes a breath. "See you later, Serg," he offers, lifting an empty sleeve to wave. "I should get going too, hit the showers," he remarks, starting to stand. "Sometimes," Taylor's tone is /exaggeratedly/ longsuffering, "life is just that hard." He lifts his bottle of Coke, waggling it. Lazy-salute, as the others start to head out. /He's/ staying comfortably squishy. That beanbag is nice and molded just for him. << So hard, >> Sergio sighs woefully, at first maneuvering towards the doorway out of habit before he thinks better of it. << Later, >> he says, passing through the wall. Jack just chuckles. "Yeah...hard," he says, shaking his head. "I'll see you later, Taylor. And good luck if you got work tomorrow too," he waves as he slips out of the room.