Logs:Of Robots and Requiems (Or, Staying Updated)

Of Robots and Requiems (Or, Staying Updated)
Dramatis Personae Kavalam, Naomi, Tomas Ferris (Old)	2020-10-26 "Nobody should be getting shot by cops."
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. Tomas has taken over one of the smaller tables in the library, atop the table he has put out some poster board, there are various cutout pictures of robots, there are also other various crafting supplies sprawled about. To the side are several pieces of poster board that have been scratched out or ripped up, on some of the discarded poster boards you can read things such as "robotics club" "robot fun" "build your own robot". Tomas is standing up over the table his laptop at one end, an empty photoshop file is open, and under him is a blank poster board. He is clearly frustrated he rubs his forehead and lets out an audible groan. Naomi, curled up in an armchair, looks up from her book at the groaning from Tomas' table. She shifts slightly, then all the way from her spot, hugging her copy of Terry Pratchett's "The Wee Free Men" against her chest as she walks to Tomas' table. She's dressed plainly in a xaviers sweatshirt and black jeans. Her nails, a shimmering metallic black, tap lightly on the table as she peers at the discarded posters. "Rough," she says, looking at a particularly manhandled piece of cardstock. Kavalam has not been here, until, suddenly, he is, insinuating himself into the others' awareness with a discomfiting sort of surreality like -- how did they miss the skinny bespectacled youth perched at a chair just by Tomas's table in bold yellow button-down and jeans. He's just pushing his glasses a little bit higher on his nose, peering at Tomas's work with a thoughtful scrutiny. "There are probably," he suggests at length, "some artist types about who could lend you a hand." Tomas nods in response to Naomi then grabs his phone and types, the phone dictates: " YEA I AM TRYING TO DESIGN I POSTER FOR ROBOT..." he stops typing at the sudden appearance of Kavalam, then he pauses staring blankly at his phone then back at Kavalam as he talks, giving him a slight wave. He types: "ARTISTS YES, THAT WOULD BE USEFULL, AS I WAS SAYING I AM TRYING TO DESIGN A POSTER FOR ROBOTICS CLUB, I SAW THAT THERE WAS A ROBOTICS CLUB BUT NOT ANYMORE, AND I GOT APPROVAL TO START A CLUB, I JUST NEED TO RECRUIT STUDENTS, BUT I AM NO ARTIST" Naomi winces a little at the sound - "We're in a library, I can just read your phone if you wanna." Her own tone is low, just about a whisper. The scales between her eyes furrow as she looks to Kavalam, slowly nodding in agreement despite her puzzled expression. "Yeah. Someone round here has to be taking art this term, right?" A pause - "Mr. Holland ain't been around much, though." She moves around so she can see Tomas' screen. "You could make it a lil easier if you used, like, Canva or somethin'." "I imagine jail does mess up his schedule, some." The distaste in Kavalam's voice is, admittedly, extremely mild, but it's there all the same. He sounds slightly skeptical as he eyes the cardboard. "How many students do you need? Do you think there will be -- a lot of interest in robot club?" Tomas gives Naomi a nod and turns off the sound and sets his phone down so the two can read it, he points at the phone and smiles a bit before turning to Kavalam and typing: "There really isn't a number, i just need some students to express interest. But, Jail? Mr. Holland is in jail? what happened? I hope he's okay. Did he get better after downtown, i saw on the news he was in a hospital, someone tryed to kill him?" "I mean, I could be into a robot club, so that's one." Naomi's eyes flit over Tomas' screen, then raises her eyes to look at Kavalam. "Oh, you ain't been keeping up, have you? Mr. Holland been like, in charge of the protests down in the city." Her expression grows more worried. "That why he got stabbed, I think." Kavalam's skeptical expression only grows when Tomas says there isn't a number, but he doesn't remark on that. Only folds a leg up underneath him, head tilting slightly to one side as Naomi speaks. "It was only a few days back," he adds with a small scrunch of brow, "I think it takes -- maybe longer. To get better, from being stabbed." His mouth compresses, tone uncertain. "I have never been stabbed. Not so certain." He glances back to Naomi, curious. "Have you been? Downtown, lately?" Tomas makes a little 'clap clap' gesture and gives Naomi a thumbs up. He then digs thru his bag and pulls out a form and hands it to her, there is already a sticky note attached to it saying "thx 4 interest, plz fill this out : ) " he hands it to her with a big grin. As the two start to talk about the stabbing the grin fades away, he attempts to type on the phone however it glitches out and turns off, he just sighs and pulls out a note book and writes in it: "Oh i didn't know he was doing that, that is good for him, being involved that is, it sucks that people are so shitty to us" he sighs before slumping down in a chair. Naomi snorts, but takes the form willingly. "Aight, aight," she says, skimming the form before tucking it into the cover of her book. Her eyes go a little wide when his phone sputters out, but she can read the notebook quick enough. "It be like that. Shitty for mutants. Shitty for a lot of people." She shakes her head slowly at Kavalam's question. "Ain't been in the city since -" she squints at him, like she's trying to remember something, "the shit this summer." A beat. "What, you going down soon?" Kavalam eyes Tomas briefly, fingers tapping against his knee. "He and the news are both extremely loud about it." This just sounds thoughtful. His brows scrunch after. "I think so. I feel like it would be --" He hesitates, shakes his head, finishes just with a shrug. "Mr. Allred was an X-Man." Tomas signs "thank you" when Naomi takes the form. Tomas sinks a bit in the chair and writes: "yea I'm trying to improve my situational awareness, sometimes I miss things, even obvious stuff, I did not even know he was an X-man, but I guess its a hazard of the job, they are really good people, at least it is good to know they are at the front of stuff like this, right?" he lightly shrugs. Naomi's scales make a light clinking sound as her brows push even closer together, the tapping of her nails starting up again. "Boy, we gotta get you a Twitter." Her look is doubtful, the tapping speeding up as she gets a little more agitated. "X-Men ain't supposed to be shot by cops. Nobody should be getting shot by cops." She opens her mouth to add something, but thinks better of it. "If you're heading down, I'd like to tag 'long," Naomi says, eyes flickerin' back to Kavalam. "If you don't mind." "You seem to not know a whole lot. There was one entire memorial here just this weekend." Kavalam's fingers are still tapping his knees. "I don't know whether or not they're good people. But they do work to --" His mouth twists down, a moment. "Keep us safe, here." His eyes flick to Naomi, and he shifts, small and uncomfortable where he sits. It's a long moment of delay before his agreement comes. "Nobody should. If I go --" His fingers curl down against his knee. "I'll try to come find you." Tomas looks down and rubs the back of his neck and writes: "I am working on that. And i do not like funerals, they make me uncomfortable, Sorry" he sets the notebook down in front of the two and wipes a tear from his eye before pulling out a gold ring from under his shirt, its hung around a small chain, he fidgets with it as he looks away from the two. Naomi just presses her lips together, eyes lingering on the ring for a moment. "Just like, check the bulletin board. Or -" she tries to smile, "I can keep ya updated during Robot club." Naomi gives Kavalam a grateful look. "Thanks, man." She hesitates before man, eyes squinting again, searching for a name she cannot recall." Kavalam eyes the ring with a softening of his expression, but when he looks up from it to Tomas's face his eyes just narrow, a briefly sharper look crossing his face. It passes soon; his voice is a very bored sort of flat when he does speak. "Even if half our teachers were not mourning, Professor Xavier sent an email to literally the entire school." He hops down off the table, brushing his hands lightly down against his shirt to smooth at it. "Kavalam," he offers to Naomi, with a small tight smile. For all the good it does him; as he slips out of the room the name itself -- as well as most clear memories that he was ever here -- are slipping away with him. Tomas pauses for a second as Kavalam exits, and sits back up dropping the ring his expression seems to cheer up as his thoughts of the student and the comment he made, leave the room. He turns to Naomi with a smile and writes: "Yea you can just hand that off to me or leave it on my door, I have not worked out a meeting time yet, but we can figure that out once we have members" he nods and looks back at his computer he types in the browser 'Canva' and points at the results turning his hand a bit upwards as if to say 'this?' Naomi looks at the chair, now empty - always empty? - with confusion for a moment, but it passes. "Yeah, I'll bring it back in the next day or so." Her face more relaxed, she nods. "Yeah, that's it. So Canva, it's got templates and stuff, so you don't have to work from scratch..."