Logs:Of Ghosts and Gremlins (Or, A Light Case of B & E)

Of Ghosts and Gremlins (Or, A Light Case of B & E)
Dramatis Personae Tok, Scott, Kavalam
In Absentia	2024-05-12 "What’s your hearts deepest desire!! I bet I could make it happen."
Location <XAV> Library - Xs First Floor
Xavier's librarian might hope the library is a quiet place to sit and study, but with a school full of teenagers that is not always the case. Nevertheless, it is certainly a treasure trove of knowledge, well-stocked with a wealth of books on its high shelves. Its reference section is vast, though its fiction is as well (much to the delight of many of its students.) The wide octagonal tables and smaller armchairs are often crowded with students, though the whispered conversations that often take place leave some doubt as to how much work is getting done at any given hour. It’s a bright and sunny Mother’s Day, as it always seems to tend to be. Students are probably spending their day out and about, or maybe too busy to notice the kid hiding in the shadow of a nearby tree. Tok stares at the mansion, clicking their nails together in fidgety anticipation. “yes yes YES yes yes right there it’s right there.” They hop a few times in excitement, “Okay. Final phase of Brilliant Plan number 4!” At this point they’re probably absolutely covered in leaves, and some dirt, having army crawled through the forest. They roll down to the ground, dropping as low as they can, and army crawl up to the slightly open window they’ve spotted and made their target. They begin humming the mission impossible theme as they make their way closer to the mansion, scanning it for any other possible holes, unconventional entrances, or people trying to stop them. This slightly open window seems to be their golden ticket. “duh. Duh. Nah nah nuh na. Na na na nah. Duh nah dOOO DOoo Doooooo. Wa wa wahhhh. BADA!” They’ve moved on from humming to whisper singing the mission impossible song. Their army crawling probably would’ve been quite good if their big fluffy tail hadn’t been sticking straight out of the grass like a shark fin. Luckily, the Library is particularly less busy today! Otherwise, Tok very carefully opening the window some more, and beginning the inelegant process of scrambling through, still humming, probably would’ve drawn quite a lot of attention. The noise coming from the window is, ultimately, what draws attention. A tall, broad man dressed mostly plainly, in a gray tee and jeans and boots and a strange pair of red-tinted glasses steps around a shelf, leveling this intruder with an -- alarmed? angry? bored? it's just red -- look. What was Mr. Summers doing here, in the library, in the first place? Maybe he just needed one book real quick and he is not the librarian and this is not his job but but this shelf is full of upside-down and misalphabetized books and so what should have been a two-minute task has become a seven-minute chore and he's still holding volume W of Encyclopedia Britannica in one hand, which he is about to point at the stranger before he seems to reconsider making sudden moves. "How'd you get on campus?" he says, his tone brusque and commanding. "Who are you? If you're here to visit someone they need to sign you in properly." Tok, halfway through the window now, looks up startled at Scott’s voice. “Oh shit!!” they panic, their claws scrambling against the glass before they proceed to slump onto the library floor. From the ground they let out a nervous laugh, “Heh.…UH. How….did I…get on campus….” They draw out, clearly not thinking they’d make it this far—or more like just not really thinking to even think this far, “I. DO go here. I just. Uh….was testing the security systems!” They pop up into standing and knock on the window as if testing it, “And this right here! No good! Definitely gonna have to uh…write this one up.” They give a big smile filled with sharp teeth. Scott is not amused. "Our security systems are usually quite good," he says; he sets Encyclopedia Brittanica (W) on the shelf next to him and digs his phone out of his pocket, flips it in his hand to open the screen, his eyebrows scrunching over the red lenses as he unlocks it. "What are you doing here? Did somebody send you our way? Let me just --" To Scott, suddenly, Tok has simply vanished -- from his perception, from his memory, why did he even come to investigate the window to begin with? The library is quiet. Sunny-Sunday-empty. Probably that window shouldn't be open, but, Kids. Was this skinny Indian kid standing here before? Yes, actually, and when Kavalam appears -- to Tok's perception alone -- it doesn't feel quite like being jumpscared so much like suddenly noticing something Really Obvious that has been there all along. He's certainly making no attempt at stealth, leaning up against a bookshelf where he's been thumbing through a volume of Rabindranath Tagore poetry and peering at Tok through half-rimmed spectacles. "How did you get on campus?" He speaks with a heavy accent, south-Indian to a trained ear and probably Generically South Asian to a less trained one. "You are quite noticeable. Did you think that lie would work?" Tok blinks hard a few times at Kavalam’s ‘sudden but not really sudden’ appearance, maybe not quite used to being so caught off guard. “Whoa hey hey! I’m not lying” they say through gritted teeth, looking panicked between Scott and Kavalam, before sending Kavalam a pleading look, “I-In fact! There’s no need to call anyone Mr. Weird Glasses Man!” They say addressing Scott this time, unaware of any memory wiping that had occurred, “Me and this guy here totally know each other!” They jab a thumb towards Kavalam’s direction. “Isn’t that right?” Scott shuts the window, shaking his head -- "Damn kids" -- then walks past them, grabs Volume W, and disappears again around the corner. "Absolutely we do not," Kavalam replies, evidently fully unfussed by Scott's abrupt change of attitude and intention. He's flipping the page in his poetry book and peeking down at Tok again. "It was a very blatant lie. If someone is supposed to be on this campus, I assure you Mr. Summers would know it." His brows are pinching together as he looks Tok over more closely -- it's hard to tell whether it's the filth or the claws-leaves-tail-horn ensemble that is drawing the most scrutiny. "What are you doing here?" Unlike Scott he does not sound brusque or commanding, just idly curious. Tok looks wildly confused about Scott suddenly leaving when just a moment ago he seemed pretty invested. “What the-?” They look at Kavalam, still thrown off, and shake their head, “Ohh like you could think of something better!” They concede, figuring the gig was up. They pick at their claws, “I’m here just to….look around.” They say with a shrug, “Heard it was fancy—and how else am I supposed to get inside? The front door when this fine window was open just for me?” They lean up against a book shelf as well, mirroring his pose, and they snag a random book at random and swipe through the pages, not looking particularly interested, “So you know any good places to hide out in this place? There must be in a place this big. I bet I only got another minute or so before that guy comes back with security so clocks ticking.” They toss the book over their shoulder when they don’t find anything interesting. "He will not come back." Kavalam pushes his glasses a little farther up on his nose. "Anyway not to look for you. I hide wherever I like. I am very unnoticeable. I have one friend here, he knows all the best places, for people who are --" He closes the book with a whumph of pages and waggles it in Tok's direction. "You know that there are very good telepaths here, right?" “Eh what’re some telepaths gonna do? I’ll just think about really gross stuff!! Natural telepath repellent.” They tap on their skull. Tok narrows their eyes, “You seem confident they’re not gonna come back….although…I didn’t even realize you were in here earlier either… you might be sneakier than me. And I’m the sneakiest person I know!” They are now sizing Kavalam up in consideration, then nod to themselves as if a decision has been made, “I demand you teach me your ways! I will be your humble student! Straight A in fact!” "I am very unnoticeable," Kavalam replies again. He's drifting a short ways away, and, in fact, as the door opens to spill a pair of teenagers into the library (debating in very Not Library Quiet voices what counts as a primary source for their history project) the kids breeze right by Kavalam without any evident notice. Then again, they don't seem to give even a passing glance, either, to Tok with their horns and their dirt and their Not Belonging Here At All. Kavalam is tucking his book back onto the shelf. "... how much experience do you have with telepaths. They are not like mosquitos. Cannot light sharp brain-incense and keep them away." Tok’s eyes follow the group, for once not being the center of attention. They look at Kavalam, and then to the crowd, and back to Kavalam. “Unnoticeable huh?” Their brain is clearly working overtime, maybe beginning to put something together. “Well. No experience. At least I don’t think. Maybe because my brain-incense works so well!” They point at Kavalam, “So are you a ghost?” They ask causally, “You like, magically appeared earlier, and then that glasses guy didn’t even notice you were here, and- Wait are you here to make me learn a lesson about the magic of Christmas?” "Magically." Kavalam echoes this with a hike of brows. He's looking Tok over Very Critically, now. "I want to ask you if you know what is a mutant, only --" His hand turns up, tipping out in clear indication of -- well, All Of Tok. "Do you know what this school..." Trails off to a reconsidering: "Do you own a mirror?" But regardless, as he ambles away fromt he shelves to take a seat on the edge of a table, he's answering pensively: "Yes, I think I am a ghost. I do not know much about Christmas. That is when the Jesus came from the dead to give candies to the pilgrims, no?" Tok snorts, “Yeah something like that. I think there’s flying horses in there too.” They joke. They glance around warily, taking stock of the group, but stepping out from behind the shelves to test the waters. “Ehhh some of the shit mutants do is kinda magical if you ask me! You should’ve seen the things my family could do—AND for your information!! I don’t own a mirror thank you very much! What if it breaks??? I ain’t dealing with bad luck for the next seven years.” They tilt their head, “So, mutant ghost? Am I a ghost too now?” They poke at themselves as if to test their corporality. Kavalam pulls his legs up into a pretzel. Nobody pays him any more mind than they had ten seconds ago. Not to Tok tracking forest-dirt through the library. Kavalam's intent look is not moving away from Tok, though, as his hand drops to his knee. "You look a little bit like you already are having some bad luck." Though after this a small amusement brightens his severe expression: "Perhaps slightly better just now. You are a ghost. Only for a bit. You have not," he's asking with a sudden misgiving, "come here to actually do school, have you? Being a ghost is not good for school. Fine for your education, though." Tok eyes seem to light up in excitement and they immediately begin to jitter on the spot. They quickly pull out a chair and perch on the seat of it, “Right on the money! School’s boring. Some cool biker person told me about this place and well-“ they gesture around, “I ain’t much for ‘learning in structured settings’-that’s how Ma phrased it at least. But you!” They lean closer, interested, “You are. Very cool.” They grin, full of sharp teeth, “What do you say we work together for a bit? I clearly don’t have the experience with telepaths that you do, so you help me get by those, and in turn I can uh….I dunno…what d’you want?? What’s your hearts deepest desire!! I bet I could make it happen.” For just a bit longer than is polite Kavalam is staring at that Sharp Toothed Smile. Eventually he blinks, looks down with a quiet hff of breath. "I think you really could not." He's hopping off the table, though, his head waggling side-to-side in... well, it might be an ambiguous kind of gesture to Americans, but his tone is agreeable, anyway. "They will catch you soon enough if you wander off. Maybe we should start with getting you some food before then, hmm?" “Yes please.” They say immediately, hopping off the chair and wiping off some dirt. It doesn’t do much. “Hey you ever steal that uh….whats his name….Summers guy’s dorky goggles? Maybe that could be what your heart desires if you look deep enough. I could definitely do that. Super easy!” "Among my heart-desires is a stubborn attachment to living, so I leave his glasses to his face only." Kavalam is ambling casually away from his seat, taking a short detour by where the pair of teenagers have grabbed some books and claimed the adjacent table in order to swipe a couple sticks of pocky from a box the kids are sharing. They don't pay any mind, and Kavalam offers one to Tok. "What is it you want. Deep-deep down." Tok perks up at the pocky stick and takes the offered one, “Me? Aghh….man. I got a list! Probably first on the list is break my family outta jail—CLOSE second is….ride a motor cycle! Never done that!” They take a bite of the pocky, then quickly demolish it. Their tail waves back and forth, “Oo!! That’s good! Third is become owner of the company that makes these so I have infinite supply. FOURTH is figure out YOUR deepest secret-est desire.” They poke at Kavalam, gently at least, given the sharpness of their claws. “Which! By the way! You haven’t given me yet, and I gave mine to you. No fair if you ask me!” "Where are they in jail. There has been a lot of jail breaking around here but," Kavalam is telling Tok very seriously, "if any of the children here tell you they will go on a jail break, don't fall for that trap." After a small consideration he's changing his mind, though: "Unless you have a picture of their jail cell door." He's not bothering to explain this, though, just looking down at Tok's poking with a small frown and then continuing to drift toward the door. "Deeply. Secretly. In the heart of my hearts. I think I would just like a proper cup of tea." “Uhhh some prison…nearby.” They explain vaguely, “Haven’t pinned which or where exactly but I know it’s in this state! So that’s a start.” They’ve begun to skip, still clearly full of energy to burn, “Why would I have a picture? If I had that, that would mean I woulda been close enough to get them out! And then why would they need that but then they won’t even join me for the greatest prison heist of the century?” They perk up, and lean in, “Do you want to join me? We could be the uh…dynamic duo! Wait, what’s your name? I never got it.” "You anyway won't remember it." Kavalam's lips compress into a thin line. He shoots Tok a quick sidelong glance, eyes slightly narrowed and his shoulders a little tenser, but it's casual when he says, "Prison Heists are very last year, is why." “Won’t remember it? That’s a little rude assuming I won’t remember it!” They say, “It’s alright I’ll come up with a nickname for you instead. How about uh…” they tap their chin, “Glasses? Hmm but that other guy is Mr. Weird Glasses Guy. OH OH! How about Ghost Kid? That’s cool right?!” "You will not remember that either. How about," Kavalam says, and here his voice is getting aggressively even, "first you get some food. And then maybe a wash-up. And if you have not rabbited off by then and gotten caught, maybe we can talk on what being a ghost here is like." At Kavalam’s tone, Tok’s long ears flick downward, just for a moment, and their tail stills. “Oh. Yeah. For sure.” They say, quietly. They tilt their head curiously, “…Am I gonna forget this conversation too once we’re all set here? Sounds like I’m forgetting a lot of things.” For seemingly the first time this conversation their tone takes on something a little more serious, or at least a little mellowed out. Kavalam hesitates just a moment when Tok's ears droop. Not long -- then he's plowing ahead down the hall toward the kitchen. "Most people do, around me. It comes with the ghostiness." When he holds the kitchen door open it's not quite with a smile, but his tone has warmed some all the same. "It's okay. When Roscoe gets back to school we can find you some very-good hiding place, yes? Then you'll only be a poltergeist. Much more memorable."