ArchivedLogs:Rain On Your Funeral Parade

Rain On Your Funeral Parade
Dramatis Personae Rasa, Peter
In Absentia	2013-06-23 '
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. Peter is currently resting! And playing video games. The spritely chitin-clad boy is perched on the couch opposite of the TV; a game of Mario Cart is currently loaded up -- Peter's manuevering through the GHOST HOUSE stage, dodging any number of tricky turns while plowing across rickity wooden bridges on his little scooter (he's playing DRYBONES, basically -- uh a skeleton turtle. Games are weird). Peter's dressed in a sharp blue collared shirt, buttoned up; his sleeves are rolled up -- and dress slacks. Peter's /feet/ are currently engulfed in what appear to be -- hard casts! From the mid-shin on down. A set of crutches are propped up beside him; they occasionally get batted around as he sways deep into the turns. Rasa slips quietly into the room, wearing a large billowy robe, roped in around the waist with a soft sash. The robe is dark olive green and /actually/ consistes of a long draping shirt, with pants of the same color that are wide and swisky. Ze looks around for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do when ze spots Peter and wanders over. Ze hops over the back of the couch to settle down next to him, pausing half settled when ze sees those casts. There's a quiet stare, then a facepalm, then ze just continue moving forward to find a controller to play the game with Peter. "Hey." Once Rasa settles in besides Peter, the boy perks up (his eyes still set on the game in front of him). The face-palming gets Peter's attention -- briefly! -- but he's still locked in on watching the game, his casts -- propped up on a stool in front of him. Once Rasa takes the controller, Peter's switching back to the game menu, restarting in two player mode (he was racing against HIMSELF, apparently). "Hey," Peter comments, before adding: "Um. Happy -- belated birthday." It's a little meek. He selects -- DRY BONES. Again. Rasa has hir choice of -- Princess Peach! King Koopa! Yoshi! Mario! Luigi! Wario! Toad! And many, many more. "...I got 'em in the subway. I had to stop, uh. A train." By way of explaining the /casts/. "Yeah, I saw the news. I was kind of hoping it wasn't you, but... you know." Rasa selects Yoshi and gets ready to play. "And thanks, for the birthday wishes." Ze glances down and frowns a little, before looking up at the screen and adjusting hir settings a little. This is the version where you pick your car, right? Ze selects something Yoshi appropriate. "So, does chitin itch the way skin does when its in a cast?" Yep; this is the one where you get to pick your cars. Peter's gone with the BULLET, a tiny little moped known for its tight cornering. Figures he'd take the tiny, fast, /manueverable/ thing. "No, actually," Peter comments, on the matter of the cast. "S'actually -- hardly ever itches at all. I think -- Dr. McCoy mentioned it's not -- really flakey? Like, I shed skin, but really kinda /slowly/. Also doesn't sweat well," Peter adds, frowning a little at this. "S'actually kind of a problem, cuz I like -- get overheated. I'm building a ventilator suit." Then, Peter adds, a little more tentatively: "How has Ivan been? I haven't -- sent him an email, yet. I probably should. Tell him. That I drop-kicked a train. He'll probably be a little angry." The course? WARIO'S STADIUM. "I'll have to keep that in mind when I wear your skin," Rasa notes blandly, lips pursing as they ready for the first race, fingers tense and ready, leaning forward a little bit. "Are you going to leave Peter sized cicada skins on the walls in your dorm room? Can I have it, if you do? I mean, sure, Ivan gets first dibs on account of your closeness, but after that, I totally want to see it and maybe ... I don't know, maybe like Bastian does, make art." Ze attempts to get off right at the gun, but spins out a little. Ze corrects. "Oh, Ivan? He's okay, I guess. Got lots of family smooshing all over him again. It's kind of funny." Ze leans as ze takes a corner. Yes, ze is one of /those/. "He's even wearing clothes of people that are much bigger than he is." "...you can have my skin, if I shed it," Peter says, /thinking/ about this for a moment (but not for too long!). "I wonder if it would be shiny. Are cicada skins shiny? I think they're just -- kind of all gross and crackly." Peter, of course, /flies/ right off the gun; he's been practicing so long that not getting the first boost would be -- really /bizarre/, for him. "But yeah you can totally have my skin. I might save some for Ivan." Peter, too, sways. He also grits his teeth and sometimes pops his tongue out of his mouth. He is a very -- /physical/ videogame player. "I'm glad," Peter adds, "that he's got his family I mean. Sometimes I worry when he's here? That he doesn't have enough -- people. Well, I guess he's got you, and Kai, and me, but I mean. Sometimes he just seems so /lonely/--" ZOOM. Right up the hill. Rasa's little Yoshicar zooms after Peter's Drybonesbullet, gnawing a bit at hir lip and leaaaaning to try and get faster. this totally works, right? Of course right. Ze exhales as ze slides off the pavement a little, bumps a wall or something, and keeps going. This may also be timed with a pfft at the mention of Kai's name. "Oh, well, some people like being alone. Also, he has Shelby. Surprisingly enough, they get along rather well, even if getting along is just them pestering each other." Ze leans the other way to /trrryyyyy/ to avoid an obstacle and over compensates. "I don't know. I think it's kind shiny. It's probably just abused. So, really, if you feel yourself hardening in such a way that you are going to slip out of your skin, then, well, let us know and we can help cut you out in a way that might preserve your sheen." "I will /probably/ go to the doctor first," Peter admits, at Rasa's comment about feeling like he's going to slip out of his skin -- he's grinning as he says this, though. "I mean, I'm kind of worried? Not really but -- you know a lot of mutations don't seem to really be designed in our best interest? I mean /obviously/ it's not in our best interest to look -- mutanty -- sometimes, but, I mean, like, the twins -- their gills really kind of suck in a few ways? They have trouble breathing on land," Peter continues. "Actually I gotta talk to Micah and see if he managed to finish their suits for that -- oh jeez I gotta finish the collars, too. I guess I'll have plenty of time with my ankles..." Zip-ZOOM. Peter jumps, BLUE SPARKS flare up, and then -- ZWOOOOOoooom, down a particularly long track of mud and dirt. "Ivan gets along with /Shelby/? Man I don't understand that I think they'd just be. Terrible with each other. I mean, that's cool that they get along, just -- wouldn't expect it." "Why is that so weird? Ivan has a sense of humor. It's actually pretty hilarious. Shelby hates his bugs, right, but she still likes him enough to hang out. Mostly he keeps them to himself, but not when she's been teasing him some how." Rasa zooooms, almost catching up with Peter for once, but then he's out of range again. "And yeah, go to the doctor first. I mean, we want you to be okay first and foremost. Having pretty bits of chitin to play with would be a secondary benefit." Ze frowns. "Oh, I'm sure you'll be up and on your feet again soon. You never seem to stay down for long." "Yeah I guess, just -- Shelby's kind of --" Peter wrinkles his nose together, trying to think of the word. "...Shelby," he finally decides that this basically. Sums it up. Peter continues to zoom; at /some/ point, though, there's that dreaded warble of an incoming blue shell and -- GRR. *ASPLODE!* Giant blue fireball rupturing over the track, sending him /spinning/ through the air. Before, bounce - bounce -- putputput... "No, I guess not. I sprained /both/ my ankles, I think. The casts are just -- they aren't supposed to be on for too long the doctor just wanted me to be able to -- walk? Anyway I'll be taking them off and taking it slow for the next week or two. Man, he was really confused as to how I had sprained /both/ ankles," Peter adds, before grinning: "I told him I fell off our house's roof." "I think she probably appreciates a person who isn't cowed by her." Rasa eyes Peter's tragedy at the hands(?) of a blue shell and uses a couple boosts to try and get in there befoer he's recovered too much. Ze grins and swerves into first place for a little while. "Yeah. Well, I'm glad they were just sprains. I mean, seriously. You, versus a train? Were you helping Jim? Who was the other person? Was he really trying to derail a train?" "...huh, maybe," Peter comments, on a failure to be COWED by SHELBY. "I mean, he's got the bugs, so I guess. He's got an /advantage/ on her, maybe." He is desperately trying to recover from this BLUE SHELL CATASTROPHE. It is not easy, because. Oh, hey. Banana peels. Oh yeah /that'll/ help. Luckily, Peter knows all the corners to boost on by heart! But the tiny puttering moped is slow to catch up; it accelerates quick, but its max speed isn't impressive. "Yeah some big, buff mutant with crinkly skin and black eyes. Carried a bunch of mutant -- literature? Pamphlets? I didn't keep one," Peter adds, sounding a /little/ regretful about this. "He just, jumped down into the subway and started punching the tracks. Jim fought him. I, um," Peter adds, a /hint/ of violet intruding in his cheeks as he cuts the next turn /hard/, powering through the next length of track, "well I mean, the dude said. Fifty seconds till the train hit. So, I web-slinged down the tunnels and -- uh, kinda. Drop-kicked it." "Peter, I believe when you drop-kick something, you hold it in your hands and then let it go so that it is in a good place for you to kick it in the air. Did you really do this with a train?" There's a tiny bit of incredulousness in hir tone, but Rasa keeps racing, watching as Peter picks up the slack between them. Hir lips press into a tight line as ze tries to maintain the lead, but ze does not know all of the right boost areas and now there are BANANA PEELS. For Shame! Avoiding those causes hir to lose ground. ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM Peter is a furious racer and MERCILESS in his attempts to secure the lead. It will probably not be long -- even /if/ the game does not give him anything more than banana shells and fake prize boxes. "Well," Peter admits, a /little/ meekly at Rasa's point, "it was more like -- I hit it with both feet at the same time. Like the wrestling move, where you -- jump up and kick something with both your feet? Then drop to the ground. S'how I sprained my ankles, I think -- I mean -- I was going really fast in one direction, the train in the other -- I managed to reverse when I saw it, but even /then/, it was going /really/ fast, and..." SWOOP. Around the next curve, MUSHROOM. Now he /boosts/ through a pile of mud, cutting through a shortcut to nip at hir heels. "It was really dumb," Peter admits, "cuz I didn't even know what I was gonna do? Like how do you stop a train. But then I remembered, I was wearing one of my /new/ webshooters. And I set 'em up so they can -- um, /explode/. I mean. Release all the web-goo -- at once." "Oh, Peter..." Rasa shakes hir head, continuing to race. Ze loads up three green shells to circle hir car for extra protection, hir face all serious now. "Well, I'm glad you figured something out. I'm glad you didn't get seriously hurt, or killed." SWERVE! Come on, Yoshi! Stay in the race! Oh No! A banana peel! Rasa's car spins out of control. "Fuck." "Yeah," Peter agrees, and -- AGH GREEN SHELLS DODGE DODGE -- the little putter bike is /very/ good at tight manuevering, and with a twist and jump he's suddenly /skidding/ past Rasa as ze peels out and -- OHO. Zooming toward the finish line. SPEED-BOOST A-HA PETER'S GONNA --oh. Another blue shell. KABOOM. "Me too." Rasa zooms ahead in Peter's defeat and skates across the finish line first. Woo! The metamorph just sits there, somewhat subdued. "That was a lot of blue shells. Seriously. One, I get, but two?" Ze shakes hir head. "Same track or another one? Would you really show up to a mutant violent anarchist meeting? I would think that they would be able to smell your epic goodguyness a block and a half away and scatter!" "I /could/," Peter suggests, "go in /undercover/ I mean the media thinks I'm all /terroristy/ you know. Maybe I could. INFILTRATE." Uh oh. Peter sounds like he thinks this is an excellent idea. Actually, he seems to be /thinking/ about it all, now. "Report back to Xavier's about all the terroristings. Oh man, that would be. Kind of awesome." Peter has selected. RAINBOW ROAD. OhGod! Naw he's just kidding; he switches away from it and picks Koopa Beach instead. "Yeah, like that will go over well with Ivan. It's okay. I'm sure I'll find some way to tell him how you got blown up or beat up or given a Columbian necktie by a group of terrorists while he was gone. He'd probably rob a bank, fly to the US, dig you up if you were buried, and lecture some life back into you." Rasa switches up cars, going for something a little heavier this time. "I suppose I should at least try to stop you, so he doesn't get mad at me. Peter, that would be a poor decision. There are adults with better skills in infiltration and spy work. You should leave it to them. You generally have enough on your plate without adding more danger to it." "Mmf. Okay," Peter responds, going with -- SAME CAR, SAME DRIVER. Apparently Dry Bones / Moped is something of a theme for Peter. "So, I'll file that under -- um -- a 'maybe'." With a quick, spurious glance to Rasa, he adds: "...or, uh. A maybe-not. Man maybe they'd contact /me/ I mean I'm bein' all terroristy, maybe they'll all think. I'm some sort of sinister terrorist mastermind. That'd be kind of hilarious." THE COURSE! As soon as it begins, Peter's revving up and ZOOMING forward; he seems /incapable/ of not catching the first boost. "I should have a website or something. 'THE SPIDER'. Post all my awesome terrorism exploits." "Peter. You do realize that there are legitimate cops out there and a whole system of laws against vigilantism and the property damage you caused by derailing a train. Do you want to actually give them fuel to arrest you and lock you up forever?" Rasa manages the starting boost this time and moves to shoulder into Peter's ride, hard. "If terrorists contact you, tell the school. I mean, it's not like the school going to take any better care of you, what with how some of the teachers think, but you'd at least have back up." "No," Peter responds, wrinkling his nose again, "I guess you're right yeah, I shouldn't -- I should /probably/ just concentrate. On finishing school. And building awesome stuff," he adds. "I mean I'm probably just getting all -- cocky and stuff. After the train thing." Oh, Peter's ride! The moped accelerates /fast/ but its top speed is pretty weak -- if Rasa maintains a solid lead, ze'll be able to surpass him relatively quickly! "I mean, I got plenty of /other/ stuff to do, I should probably. Concentrate on that." "I'm really sorry to sort of rain on your parade and all. I just... Never mind." Rasa guns the heavier car. It's not the fastest vehicle, but it moves a decent tick, corners like shit, but takes damage like no one's business. Nnnnnrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Hir shoulders set grumpy and low, hir gaze never leaving the television. "Naw, it's alright," Peter replies, /maybe/ a little glumy. "I mean, at this point my parade's basically a funeral march and I kinda. /Don't/ wanna die. So," he continues, as he SWOOPS into the next turn, "I think, maybe, uh. I'll work on -- /that/."