Players:
Summary: The morning after Six arrives, he finds that motorcycle kid in the lobby
Date: February 13, 2010
Log Title Six in the Morning
Rating:PG
Xavier Mansion - Ramsey Dormitories Lobby
The lobby of Ramsey Dormitories has two elevators at one end of the wall along with the entrance to a cafeteria. On the wall are three pictures that say 'In memory of'. One is of Douglas Ramsey, another of John Proudstar and the last one is of Jean Grey. There are several couches and tables down here for students to relax. Large windows in the front and sides allow for a lot of light in the room.
Boy Robot Mikey Drakos is all shiny and freshly waxed and ready to face the world!
Wait, no. Can't do that. Gotta do make-up homework. Imagine, the algebra teacher refusing to accept homework written out in reverse?!
So he's sitting at a table, working on it. Writing it correctly.
Wrapped in a blanket, Six has been sleepily exploring the school. His clothing is rumpled, and his hair a little mussed, but on the whole he looks much improved. The sleep was needed after the breaks and healing he got the day before. In spotting you, a smile forms and he meanders over. Looks kind of tent like with wings under the blanket. "Morning, Mike. ..Are you still doing your homework?" Boldly he leans over to see what you are working on.
Mike looks up and … well, no inducer, no grin, but he does play a sample on his radio speaker. "HIThere!" gratis Peter Gabriel. He leans back to show it (hopefully, not clonking) … yeah, it's … algebra, and he's writing it out… in… New York Times font. With seriphs.
Startled at the music blurb, Six none the less soon laughs. "You.. don't like math much, do you?" That's what he assumes from the font use. People tend to doodle, right? A hand on your shoulder stops any clonking. Hope you don't mind. "Need some help?" Remembering the day before and you speaking of your studies.
Mike chuckles. Doesn't sound right. "Naah, I'm good wiith callculationsz … iitsz not hard, juszt booring."
He continues… and he's writing it quickly enough. Almost like he was, er, a lineprinter or something.
(Nah, he did this before the robot thing. That's why he's so fast.)
Kind of glad he doesn't have to help, in spite of offering, Six moves away and settles onto one of the couches here. Curls in for warmth. "Can't say I am." Good with math. Does fine, but not good. Doesn't love it by any means. "My least favorite subject." Your sounds are a bit confusing, but he's trying hard to make friends, so takes things as they are. "How long have you been here? At the school I mean?"
Mike continues the mindless writing out… really, you'd think having a computer brain would be the clue, homework where you have to practice to re-learn calculations? NOT useful.
"I got heere on the eeightteenth of Jaanuary… juuszt afterrr the deemonn thinng starrted. Waas zsupoozed to starrt the newwyear but haad aan acxitdnt.. urg. Ak siddent. Hard woorrd."
He looks over at Six trying to warm up, "Hhave you eatenn yet? Refueelling helps keep warmmth."
Six has heard a little of the demon thing and is surprised. "You were in that?" Doesn't correct your speech, for it's obvious you know the proper words, just can't say them right. Rashmi asking of it told him this was new. "I have." Eaten. Assured with a smile. "Can't cover my wings with clothes, so they get cold easy. I just don't want to give up this comfortable sleepy feeling yet is all. Whatever Doc did to heal me really wore me out. Sure looks better today though." Stretches out a wing to show you the green and yellow bruising. It was ugly and black yesterday.
Mike looks down at the page he's working on … "Ahh, fu mmble. I ddiid that onne wornng."
Robot eraser action GO! (squeaky squeaky)
He looks at the wing then, "Rriigtzeous colorrz, mman. Szuch vvibraant greensz."
All you need are some speed lines and lens flare effects! Six pulls the membrane in close to peer at the stuff. It's transparent excepting for the bruise, so he can be seen through it. "I know, psychedelic, right?" A grin at you and then he wrangles the thing back under the blanket. "Mike? Do you like it here?"
Mike looks … well, pretty much the same. Darn emotionless affect. So he does that "stroke the chin beard" thing that goes with "pondering" in the weird commercials about "think before you text" … even though he lacks the chin beard to stroke.
"Iitsz a sschool. I haave bad luck wiith schoolsz, aand it iizn't aas bad as some I've haad. Wiish they'd come uup wiith a way to teach me hoow to controll my driiver addictxion, buut… I goot thisz neat vooice boxz. Eeven if it diid come from aa Mmagneto deszignn. So overall? Hyeah."
Six laughs at you chin stroking, snug in his blanket. "I've never been to any school, so count yourself lucky. Being taught by your mother and grandmother isn't all that fun." There's a grin though. He honestly knows he's had it good. Driver what? A blink and he looks befuddled. "Driver addiction?" Nope, has no idea what that means. "What's that mean? Beyond me knowing what driver and addiction mean separately. Magneto?" Dubious!
Mike totally knows this sounds like one of those prank the new kid stories.
"Yyeah, weird huh? Hhe juszt dropped by one night, toszed me arouund a bit, szcolded me an' Raszhmi forr beingg out too cloze to curfew, buut he mmadde a voizse box szo I could exzplain myszelf first. Onnly worked when heewasz clozse thoo."
He tries to figure out how to explain the addiction thing. Show him the cartoons? Nah. Use your words. "Szo when I merrge with a carr… I szynch up wiith whoevver drivesz. It feelz good … aand I szorta share wiith the driver. Kindaa can get hooked on iit. Wearsz off faaszt though."
Okay, maybe he should be glad that he hasn't met Magneto. That sounds scary. Six looks uncertain about it all, but he doesn't outright disbelieve. Seen too much the last day to do so. That doesn't mean he's accepting however. This is a lot to swallow at once. "So how is it that you are talking now then?" Magneto isn't close now, is he?
The addiction thing has the teen quiet, and still looking uncertain. His powers are so fairly straightforward that all this complexity is mind blowing. "So if you become a car, and someone drives, it.. feels good?" Trying to wrap his head around this, but then he grins. "Should I bring condoms or something if that happens?" Teasing you!
Mike would totally blush. If he had that inducer on his face would be the same color as his pinstripes. "NNot exxzactly. It's stronger than thaat. Aapareently. I'm, uh, tolld."
Laughing loudly, the teen leans to one side as you claim it's stronger than that. "Then bring a towel!" Sorry, Six is a good kid, but he's spent the last year and a half on the docks. Don't get a lot of refined role models there. "Seriously though, do you avoid it because of that?"
Mike nods. "Yeah… Cauzsed problemmz."
"Problems?" Asked as he pushes himself back up with a wing arm. "What kind of problems." Six isn't thinking about the fact you called it addicting. After a moment, the teen rises to his feet and joins you at the table. Couch is comfortable, but this is more social.
Mike says, a bit of reluctance in his voice, "Twoo guysz thought theyy owned me. Got iinto a fiight at szchool."
Draping over his chair in blanket and wings, Six blinks at you. "Owned you?" Dismay there. He is quiet a time as what this all means finally hits. "Oh." Yeah, stupid, that's what addictive means. Suddenly all those drug warnings start making sense. "You don't get the same affects from it? Like addicted?"
Mike shrugs. "I liike it but I didnn't … bonnd szo much."
"What's it like though?" Six motions a hand as he asks, "You keep saying bond, but what does that mean?"
Mike says, "II'd haave to szhow you annd Ii'm nnot szupozed to do that. Iitsz' like sharing bodiesz, sorta."
Sharing bodies. Six doesn't answer immediately and instead looks thoughtful as he tugs on an ear. "I think I'll take a pass at being shown." There's a smile in the aftermath though. Doesn't mean to suggest insult, just that he's going to opt to be wise instead of that curious. "It sounds cool though. Do you do better with a driver?" Still curious about the main aspects of you though. "..And I just realized I've probably been rude. You don't have to deal with me pestering if you don't want."
Mike shakes his head and does a brushing-off gesture, "Nah, noo probleem. Ii nneed to thinnk aboout thisz anywaay. Iif I cann't get help thenn I have to ffigure it out, riight?"
He would sigh, but that's a bit TOO much acting, since he doesn't actually breathe with a diaphragm. Maybe rev his engine then let it go quiet again? VrrrRRR?rrr. "Doesz that szound like a sigh?"
Assured, there's a laugh for your attempt at a sigh. "No." Six is smiling as he says it though. Resting on his normal arms on the table, cheek in hand, the blanket is held in place with wing-hands. "That sounds like you shifting down an engine." Which of course is probably more of the truth. "Can't someone here help you? I mean, if there's someone who can bond, isn't there someone who won't be addicted? Or willing to risk it for you?" Six likes questions, doesn't he?
About the sigh, "Ii have mosztly the samme emootionngz I uszed to, buut some are less intensze with owt the bioology to szupport them," Mike explains, unnecessarily.
He shakes his head. "Ii doon't know. I azked, but iit'z been quiite a while, annd I'mm starrting to think theey can't. Orr they juzt thinnk it's szo freaaky orr danngerous thaat they wannt me neveer to uuse it. I can't liive like thaat though. Therr'z one guy, Jono Starrzmore, one of the X-menn. I waaz able to keep fromm szynchinng wiith him, buut, I cheatd. I diidn't syynch wiith him aat all, buut I was the onne driviing. None ofv the contrrolsz waas hooked to anything. Aand even thenn Ii haad to fiight to keep froom connecting."
Six nods about emotions being less intense. "And it's harder to express them." He's noticed that you don't make expressions as you did when you appeared human. So have to ask about that too. "How long is a while?" Asked of that you asked. "I've met Jono." Off panel of course. Says it so that you know he knows who that is. "Can you cheat at powers?" A grin for that. "Maybe it's how you think of it. Sounds like you don't have to make a bond at all. Then again I really know almost nothing about it." The motion of a hand in an apologetic manner.
Mike does feel frustration, and that can be expressed with tone of voice and hands grabbing his own head, fingers spread out, as he shakes it side to side. "Iitz … ahhrg Okaay, szo Jono I couuld cheat causze he doeszn't haave a nnormal bodyy. Ii could feel the," air quotes, "eddgez of hisz seenzsez, aand allzo pretennd thaat Ii waasz an aambulance wiith a remoote controll."
Mike holds up one hand, "Thinnking how too szay this."
It's not all in your mind is it Mikey? The answer seems to be "no"… "Ii uzed to ride aa horsz when Ii was stayying aat my
Graandfather's plaace, myy folksz were oout of the counntry foor a year… You eever ride a horsze?"
"He what?" No, Six has no idea what that really means. "Normal body?" Sure the voice thing was kind of strange, but.. no, no idea what Jono is, just that he was helpful. And liked black. To Six's thinking that means like cyborgs and such from movies. "Sorry." For you thinking of how to say this. It's such a neat idea though - to feel someone else's senses.
There's a shake of the head about riding horses. "No. I've never seen one in person. I lived in a light house. Fishing boats I know, but not horses." Six smiles in spite of that though.
Mike changes gears then. "Caan you fly wiith thosz wingz?"
Six blinks with that. Uh, what? He eyes you a moment, questions unanswered, and lifts his wings. "Yes. I've been able to fly with them for two years now."
Mike temples his fingers together, in the "mastermind explaining" hand-talk gesture. "Niice.. soo, whaat would youu thiink iff they weere liike, a hanng-gliider. Szomethinng thaat almoszt did iit but, nno senzation, aall muffled?"
This is probably the third or fourth time (not counting rehearsing it in his head at least twenty or thirty times) that Mike's explained that weird aspect of his power, since coming to the school. Because he didn't talk about it that much with the parentals.
"Thaatz whaat it'sz liike to driive a caar for mozzt people. Aand for the car? Iitz sorta the szame iin reverze."
Wait, is Mike saying cars are AWARE of being driven?
A smile for your steepling of fingers. "You need a black moustache for that." Six points out, helpfully. And no, he doesn't at all believe that cars are aware. You bonding with them makes you aware of them, not the other way around. Doesn't matter if he's wrong, that's what he believes. "That's a good way to put it." For he's thinking about it now. "I don't think I could use a glider after having spent so long with my wings. So you with a driver is like finally able to fully be alive?"
Mike nods, emphatically "YESZ. It'z … when I diid the aambulaanz I couldd haave juzzt gonne compleetly paszive, buut theen Ii miight haave loszt mysellf there. Liike aafter the akzzident. I wasz there, buut nuumb, uuntil mmy Ppapaa wooke me uup. Ii waahz juszt a block oovf cruushed metaal."
Accident? Six looks surprised until he remembers what Rashmi said. In an accident and Mike replaced what was ruined with metals until he was rebuilt. There's a bit of awe as he watches you now. "You feel cheated then?" Asking of the time in the ambulance, "When you didn't get to make that bond in the ambulance? I'm glad you didn't lose yourself though."
Mike shakes his head, "Nno, not cheeated. Iive got to learrn not too, uhh, HOOK, my driiver, buut theen? Woulld haave been bad. Joono iizn't really, uuh, he hhaz to reprrezs a lottt off sztuuff. He cann exzplaiin it better thaan me."
He glances at the homework. Done for the day, so he'll definitely be able to go to town. He turns the image inducer ON again, and there's suddenly that movie-star-ideal version of himself instead. With facial expressions. Including a sort of wry smile, "Ii mmight be myy owwn antii-druug, y'knoow? But nobodyy elzsesz."
Okay, all that other stuff aside, Six must ask. "….How did you do that?" Go from human to robot to human again. Sure he appreciates the expression, but wow!
Mike grins, and pops open one of the latches on his collar. Underneath, a small, I-Pod looking device with a tiny paper-LCD screen. If you peer closely it's showing an image of what Mike looks like, right now.
"Thiisz is an iimage induuczer. Dunno hoow or whyy it workz, buut they have theem for thooze of us who juust cannot look huuman. I gueesz, when we graaduate, we giive them back, alonng with the uughly ssquaad uniformmz."
"Wow!" Six leans forward to see and is suitably amazed. "Uh, squad uniforms?" Then again he's not a student yet. What would he know about uniforms. "That's so cool." Ignoring uniforms for now. No, he doesn't even think to ask for one. "Makes it easier to see your expressions too."
Mike nods, grinning. "Yeah. It responds partlyy froom the voocal inflectionnz aand paartly causz I caan tweaak the exprezzion wwith the voice-boxz controll. Dr. MccCoyy isz a geniuuus."
He flips through several outfits, basically your ordinary school almost-uniform button-down shirt, jeans or cargo pants, etc. His eyes don't quite have that weird glow to them either that he does as a carbot. Somewhere in that combination is a hideously orange and white bodysuit, but he doesn't leave that on for long at all.
Ugly squad uniforms are ugly indeed. "That's cool." Six repeats, because it bears repeating. "Thanks for showing me, and for answering my zillion and one questions, Mike." A bright smile spreads for that. "Maybe I'll have an ugly uniform of my own soon."
Mike quirks up an eyebrow, Spockishly. Yeah, when he found that trick he almost wore out the circuit. "Aare you sztill noot suurre your paarentz will lett you sztay? Iit szeems easierr thaan haaving to hiide your winngz. The," finger quotes, "Eye-Gorr imitaation woulld gett tirred reall faszt."
He laughs at the idea of being Igor, and hunches forward to further it. "Could never hide them." Six says with a shrug. "People around town new about me, and saw me. Grandma didn't want the vacationing people to see me." Not a topic he's pleased with. "I think it'd be the money issue more than anything else. Everyone keeps trying to assure me that this isn't a problem, but nothing this good comes for free."
Mike tilts his head to the sides. "Iitzz a privaate zchool, yeah. Mmy folkz are paaying what they woould haave paid for mee to go to the eepisszcppal school. AAbout twwennty K aa year. Buut Daad'z kiinda making monney now. Ii knoow some oothers aaarennt paaying anything, iit comesz from a sscholarszhiip."
He has no idea what that would mean for Six, really, but hopes it's reassuring.
Six shakes his head about the money, "That's more than my dad makes in a year, Mike." It's why he hopes, but isn't letting himself get caught up in the excitement. "There's no way." The teen shrugs and leans back in his chair. "Rashmi says arrangements can be made, but until I hear from the headmaster or something, I'm not about to ask my parents to send my things."
Mike shakes his head in disbelief. That's way below poverty level, don't they pay lighthouse keepers? Must not. Or Six's folks aren't being up-front with him about expenses and other forms of income. And then he gets this disbelieving expression, very well-simulated, and almost curses. "Daa… Rat. It. Ii aactually rremembered szzomething from that sztupid claass and founnd it usefull."
He does the expression for which the emoticon :P was invented, and just shakes his shoulders as if laughing at himself.
"Theey really doo have szcholarshiips, iit won't cooszt them more thaan they caan bear. Ii thiink ssome paarentz juszt get chaarged szo they woon't feel loss ofv faace."
If both parents work, then yes, they can support themselves, but that doesn't change the fact that twenty thousand a year is far more than they could afford. Six can only shrug. "Like I said, Mike, I've been here not even a day, so I don't know yet. It's all up in the air right now." A sheepish smile shows. "I don't even have a change of clothes."
Mike grins at that. "Theyy have spaare cloothes sztached aall oover the plaace. Mutaantz are hard on clothing Ii thinnk. Szo we could geet you some zweats, aand I know theer was a sszhirt for a guy wiith wingz that should zstill work. I weaar leather zstuff or my uuniform cauze metal wearz out cloth faszter. Aand cloth abradez my paaint."
Get the guy into some X-Wear, stylish yet functional … OK, not really stylish but at least not smelling tired and old? And it'll probably make him feel better too. And then, to the Headmasters' office! Mikey can plot and plan as well as the best of them. Well maybe not Rashmi, that girl is unnatural.
"Really?" Brightening at the idea, Six sits up a little straighter. "I'll have to ask. Can't wear normal shirts for obvious reasons, but maybe we can cut up something for me." Not exactly stylish X-gear, but as you said not smelly! "You know, I think I'm going to go ask. I could use a wash too." Pushing back his chair he rises to his feet and offers a hand. "Great talking to you, Mike. You're pretty awesome."
Mike takes the offered hand for a handshake, which … well. Metal and rubber and machinery hand, image of human flesh, slight cognitive dissonance.
He grins, and replies, "Yeahh, I keep telllinng people thaat buut you're the firrzt one to faall for it."
The wink that goes with that is much more realistic looking than when he's visually all robot.
"Want me to come allong? I gotta turrn in thisz homewoork anywaay."
"Well, I'd rather shower alone." Six grins at you, teasing, pulling his blanket around him. "But sure." Come along to help him find clothes! It could be fun.
