ArchivedLogs:Vote for Pedro

Vote for Pedro
WARNING FOR SLIGHT SADNESS AND THREATS OF ROBOT VIOLENCE. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.
Dramatis Personae Mya, Ross	2013-07-26 Ross tries to start a club. Things go wrong.
Location <XS> Treehouse
Built by enterprising students of yesteryear, this treehouse has weathered generations of Xaviers' students coming up here to study -- or escape from studying. A cozy retreat, its wood planks are sturdy and well-sanded, fit snug together to keep out draft. Snacks occasionally find their way up here, and the roof keeps the rain off well enough to pass a night -- so long as the teachers don't catch any students at it. For anyone agile enough to make the jump, a lucky leap juuust might carry them from here to the school rooftop, so long as they're careful of the drop... It's around 4:30 in the afternoon, clear skies. The treehouse has a sign taped to the front, saying "KEEP OUT: ROSS TERRITORY", made out of construction paper. Inside is a whole different story. Ross, purple as always, wearing a Seether t-shirt with blue jeans, is in the midst of construction supplies, staplers, pencils, and other objects. On an easel in the back, barely not hitting the ceiling, is a painting of a robot, stereotypically Mexicanized, with the word Pedro on the bottom. Next to the painting, is the real thing, wearing a tiny fedora, on a podium with construction paper dictating 'OUR MASCOT, LORD PEDRO I'. Ross is currently writing something with a pencil, when it snaps. "God fucking damn it! That's like, the fifth one.". She grabs another pencil, starting over. Mya has some sort of scarf, purple and yellow, in fact. It's wrapped around the lower half of her face, which helps make her seem SLIGHTLY less alien. It's why she doesn't feel bad about floating up to the window of the treehouse in her leisurely manner and peek in. It's a loooong, loooong time for her to stare into treehouse before she says anything,"I... Wow. That... uh... painting is incredibly... racist? Yeah. That's... pretty racist." Ross is startled by her sudden vocal noises. "Waah! You could have kno- oh wait my bad nevermind.". She walks over to the painting. "You like? I made both it and the robot. Also, it's not racist! He's Mexican! He supports his country very much!". She smiles at this, and has Pedro salute by moving his claws. "I don't have remote controls yet, maybe soon. How are you? You /do/ know why you are here, yes? IMPORTANT THINGS! Also, we have a dragon at this school, but I can tell you about that later.". She goes back to her writing, humming all the while. "Today is a great day.". Mya just sort of stares for a long time at the robot,"That's... like... an awful stereotype. I uh... I think it may be at least a little racist. Well. At least it's cute." She peers over the edge of the window more closely now, "Wh-why AM I here? I have no idea, actually. Noone told me. I just got a note, so I started projecting." It takes a few moments for everything to parse, "Wait. A dragon? What? I am so lost." Shaking her head, Ross looks at Mya. "He's still adorable. Anyways, you're here for important stuff. I am starting a club. And you are helping me co-found it. And you can't say no, because I said so.". She looks sternly at her, as she continues writing her little banner. "Yeah, apparently, this kid is a freaking /dragon/ and he's Asian which is kind of funny but still it's /so/ cool HE'S A FUCKING DRAGON OKAY. But apparently he won't let me touch him because I'll mind control him or something." She makes a sad face, almost exactly like an emoticon, perhaps trying to do that. "But yeah, Pedro's our mascot. Vote for Pedro!". Mya's eyes glow red for a moment. Annoyance? "I'm just going to stop you there. I... REALLY don't like not being given a choice. So... I'll say no if I want to. You still haven't really told me anything about this. Which kind of makes me suspicious." If she could frown, she WOULD be. "Anyway, he's probably just trying to get by. Is that what you do? Touch people and mind control them?" Ross nods. "Relax, I believe you're immune. You're like, a cloud of gas? This isn't even your real body? So I don't think I could actually affect /your/ mind. Also, I thought you'd like this idea! I mean, come on! The club is called...". Suddenly, she panics, not having a name. She takes glances around the room, before spotting something. "The Stapler Club. Named after..uh...John Henry Stapler. Yes, that's it. Anyways, it's fun! If we get it to be like, official, we can use it to slack off. And stuff. Come on! I /need/ you!". She makes a pleading face, standing up. "Come on, join us! As co-founder you get...uh...free snacks? Wait can you ever /eat/ I have no idea anyways it'll be fun! Pleaseee?". She makes another pleading face. "I won't toss Pedro into a fire? I promise?" Mya would raise her eyebrow in a quizzical manner if she could. Instead, her eyes just whirl and glow in that manner of hers. She lifts up in the air, and peeks into the room, hands on the edge of the window sill, and then ifnorms the girl,"I don't want to screw off. In fact... The longer I see all this..." She peers around the tree house,"... the longer I become exactly sure that I want no part of this... in any imaginable way." Pause. "Also... I don't care if you burn Pedro. I already said it looks racist." "Goddamnit, I thought you were cool. It's not my fault I'm crazy, okay?". Yes, Ross is admitting her crazyness. "You would be too!". She goes over, holding Pedro. "Fine, if you don't want to, you can leave. I'll finish the club myself. Maybe paint the treehouse purple, blame Shane or Ember or something.". She slowly rocks Pedro back and forth. "Also, I'm not burning him! He's not racist, he's Mexican! MEXICAN!". Mya frowns inwardly as she watches the girl rocking back and forth,"You're a profoundly damaged individual. While I can't imagine how you got that way-" and her voice sounds sad, at this,"- I can only imagine it wasn't pleasant. Maybe when you come up with something more purposeful or definitive, I'll join your club. But I spent the last three years of my life a prisoner in my own body. My desire to 'screw off' is thus non-existent. Good luck." She turns and begins to float downward. "FINE, BE THAT WAY!". Still rocking back and forth, she turns to Pedro. "You still love me, right Pedro? Right?". She hugs him tightly, as she begins ripping the papers to shreds. "I don't need a fucking club anyways, I atleast got you, Pedro. You're my best friend, I guess.". She rocks back and forth with Pedro in the mess of papers. "Fuck this life, fuck this school, fuck everyone. Jesus fucking christ.". She ends it by tossing the painting out of the treehouse. "Vote for Pedro..".