Logs:Bang, Bang!

Bang, Bang!
Dramatis Personae Avi, Bryce
In Absentia DJ, Scott	2024-11-18 "Heyyyy if you stay here long enough, Xavier's-good is all you ever need."
Location <XAV> Avi and Bryce's Dorm - Xavier's School
Tromp, tromp, tromp. Bryce is trudging slow back into the room -- he isn't hurt, though there's plenty on his clothes and a few bizarrely-colored leaves still stuck in the hood of his sweatshirt, but he does look deeply exhausted as he slumps down into his desk chair. "Be of good cheer," Moab is aggressively greeting, swooping down to land on Bryce's shoulder and then pecking inquisitively at the hard shell currently covering his head. Bryce groans, kind of uncheerfully, but then sits up a little straighter, fishing in a desk drawer for a small tupperware of blanched almond slivers to offer one to the parrot. His carapace is transforming, the hard shell softening back into skin, budding vivid feathers to once again match Moab. After this he's forcing a smile. Bright. "We are getting better." Avi is considerably less dirty, though considerably more damp in large splotches where icemelt has soaked his clothing. "What I tell you 'bout toxic positivity, girl?" He is shaking his head at Moab in exaggerated disappointment. He plops into his chair, too. He's planted a foot on the ground, swivelling his chair one way and then the other, but then pushes off the floor to roll over by Bryce so that he can pluck a couple stray leaves from the younger boy's hood. "Boy you getting better by leaps and bounds. We ain't got no awards for this but you be in the running for Most Improved Player in my heart." He's thumping a fist lightly against his chest as he says this. Bryce's arms are shifting, too, scales disappearing in favor of silky black fur, clawed reptilian fingers traded for more dextrous primate ones. His nose crinkles up, head bobbing a few times in more genuinely pleased nod. "I've been asking my brother for advice on the weekends," he confides in an excited whisper. "Not like telling him or -- just hearing his stories and -- he had so much experience doing -- everything, I think." He lifts his hand, letting Moab climb down onto his arm and then petting her gently on her head. "... are you gonna do this forever?" "I don't doubt it. Kinda hope we only have so much to learn from him, though." Avi pushes his chair back, wheeling across the floor to his own desk. He almost collides with his bed, putting a foot out to brake and then lever off it in the other direction. "Man, I hope not. End up like, what, Ms. Grey or Mr. Summers, bless 'em but if I'm here at 50 I'mm'a just --" He mimes putting a gun to his head, lips blowing out in a small pop as he cocks his thumb. The mimed shot draws Bryce's face into a perfect 😲, eyes wide and hand lifting to cover the O of his mouth. "Avi," it's a half-hissed scandalized whisper crossed with a stifled laugh, kind of squeaky in final execution. "We're really lucky to have teachers who care so much. And it just -- just means they have so much knowledge and they -- they know what it's like for us and --" He is gently guiding Moab to perch on the arm of the chair instead of on him, and his chair wobbles slightly backwards as he bends to take off his shoes. "And I don't just mean here! Like -- wherever you end up. They'll probably need heroes, right?" "You finna be here when you old-old, search your heart and tell me how that feel. You gonna be out here the day after graduation practicing to turn the whole world Mormon." Avi steps on one sneaker-heel to pull it off, then the other. He strips off his damp sweatshirt and drapes it over the back of his chair. "Everywhere needs heroes. Sooome places just need it a whole lot more." Bryce's nose wrinkles, small and distasteful, although he won't go quite as far as saying anything negative about the potential for living at Xavier's forever. "Well, I won't be talking to the whole world but hopefully some part that really needs the message." He pulls his legs up onto the chair. His socked toes curl down over the seat. "You guys don't have any kinda mission or anything. What are you going to do next?" "Whaaat sure we do it's just, like, being some absolute wanker from Monsey who's dreaming of joining the IDF. Used to think I wanted to join the Army, follow my pa and my Pawpaw but --" Avi shakes his head and hops to his feet, rummaging in his drawers for a comfortable change of clothes and then getting his towel from his closet. "Now I don't know. Be happy if I get in somewhere I can shoot some hoops and not some people." "Oh I bet you will, you're real good!" Bryce peels off his socks, balling them up so that he can chuck them towards his hamper. 'Swish', he mouths to himself as it goes in. But he's adding, earnestly: "I'm sure you'd also be great at the -- um --" He's starting to make a gun-hand but then dropping it to just say, "army...ing." "Bang, Allred puts it in, nothin' but net!" Avi lets out a whoop at Bryce's sock basket. He's waving a dismissive hand, then, and spinning on a heel to take his shower things toward the bathroom. "I'm Xavier's-good that's a whooole different thing than good-good." "Bang," Moab squawks in echo. "Bang, bang." Bryce is flinging his arms into the air in victory with Avi's enthusiastic commentating. "-- oh no you're gonna make people think she's a killer." He's spinning towards his desk, but grins bright at Avi. "Heyyyy if you stay here long enough, Xavier's-good is all you ever need." "Psssh." Avi flicks his towel lightly at Bryce, and vanishes into the bathroom. From behind the door: "And you say Mormons don't believe in hell."