maskormenace | First log in (Video)

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First log in (Video)

[There is a boy on screen. A teenage boy. A small teenage boy. His hair spikes straight up in the air, but he somehow has also crammed a baseball cap on it. He has various electronic devices clipped to lanyards he is wearing, or simply strapped to his body. He is wearing finger-less gloves. He is obviously extremely cool. You can tell by how bored he looks.]

Hey. Hello-o. Whoever you are?

[He is also standing in front of a police car. And a police officer, who looks mildly annoyed and slightly confused. Even as the boy broadcasts on his communicator, his fingers tap tap tap on another one of his devices. He doesn't even have to look at it.]

This game, or whatever? Sucks. One: it's totally boring. I took this cop car, and I didn't even get any bonus points, I just got this guy-

[He jerks his head in the cop's direction.]

-telling me I can't take a cop car. Uh. Obviously I can, duh, and if I wasn't supposed to, why did you program it in? Two: if I'm playing army hero, where's my gun, huh? All I got was this iPhone knock off that doesn't shoot squat, and some boring car cutscene. Two: kidnapping people for your immersive gaming experience is stupid, and if you thought you'd get publicity by using me, the joke's on you. Mike Teavee is nobody's click-bait, and I can't even log onto twitter and live tweet about how dumb this is. Hashtag: fail. Hashtag: you. Hashtag: you fail. And if my mom said you could do this to me... If it was after 5pm, her consent is dubious, at best. And two: I'm over it, so send me home. Not through your fake-news teleporter. That's not what they feel like. I would know. Just call my mom...and...have her...th-...

[His eyes have wandered to his tablet screen. His voice trails off, his attention on whatever game he's playing there, oblivious to the fact that his communicator is still on, and that there is an actual world around him. And then, without looking up:]

But I'll take more fake tattoos if you have any better ones.

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[See Lance's icon for the exact expression he is wearing right now.]

First thing's first. This isn't a video game. Sorry to disappoint.

Two, they aren't going to just send you home. They didn't ask you, or your mom, or anyone. The Porter just chooses how it likes. You're kind of stuck here. At least for a bit.

Get used to it.

Too late. Already disappointed.

...What if I don't wanna get used to it? Not that I believe you, 'cause that's what they would say.

Been stuck here for a few months, so yeah...get used to it or keep being disappointed. Trust me I know it's not the easiest thing to believe.

I mean if you really don't want to get used to it, you could keep stirring up trouble. Maybe then they'll try to send you home.

[ It's difficult to make Skeets think someone is totally obnoxious but somehow Mike Teavee has accomplished this in ten seconds flat. Only his apparent age keeps Skeets' message from being "delete your account".

Still, have a small gold robot. ]

You're in an alternate universe, sir. If you get arrested here you get arrested in real life.

[Mike thinks about this for a moment. Mike's face when he is thinking about something is...something.]

I guess it wouldn't be the weirdest thing that ever happened to me... But it would be stupid.

That? That wasn't trouble. That was "youthful shenanigans", and all therapists agree that you will grow out of it, until you hack their appointment system and reschedule all their patients for one Monday at 4:45pm. Or throw a half-full bottle of Snapple at their heads. And then you get a new therapist.

[One: winner. Two: Skeets. You would have immediately gained all of his fourteen year old respect had you sent such a message.

But still: you are a small gold robot. Mike laughs. It's...unexpectedly genuine.]

Did you just call me 'sir'? Are you, like, a drone?

First, I call everyone by a polite form of address, sir, before you start to feel special. Second, I am a BX9 2.0 Security Robot from the 25th Century.

[ ... ]

I realize what I just said but I would like to reiterate that this is real life and not a game.

[His mouth drops open. He could probably swallow a small rodent whole if he wanted to. He probably does not want to. Mike is the sort of boy who eats only hot dogs that have been cut into small pieces and Totinos pizza rolls.]

That's awesoooooooooooooooome. What can you do? One time I programmed the Roomba to set the mail on fire.

But. I'm fourteen. And I get called a lotta stuff, but I'm pretty sure I'm not a sir.

Sounds like trouble to me. [Trust him, he's been in plenty of it. There's a reason he was on his garrison commander's shit list.]

I mean, one of those things is technically assault. I try to stick to parties and breaking curfew myself.

Seriously? I thought there were supposed to be bad guys here that we're supposed to fight. I drove cop car two and a half blocks at, like, seven miles an hour, because I don't actually know how to drive a car irl.

Why would you wanna go to a party? You'd have to, like, talk to people. With your face.

[ It's very hard to continue finding someone obnoxious when they think you're awesome. ]

I can do all sorts of thi-- why did you need to set the mail on fire?

[ Maybe still not back to obnoxious but definitely in the "vaguely worrying" category.

He also patently ignores the insistence not to call someone sir like he does every time someone tries. ]

Edited 2017-07-06 02:44 (UTC)

[Give him time.]

Iunno. I live in Idaho. We have a potato museum. And that's pretty much it. Do something roboty?

[The tone of his voice almost says please, but his actual mouth, of course, does not.]

[ Mike Teavee? Who does this kid think he is? ]

Sorry this place isn't your golden ticket to twitch stardom, but uhh... all of this is real, and that cop probably wants to arrest you.

[ Skeets hovers there for a second, and even if he had a face it'd probably be expressionless.

Then, he holographically projects (all blue and sci-fi and all that) the words "Ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word," complete with a little holographic dancing figure underneath. ]

[Well, he thinks Mike Teavee. Because he is. Technically: Michael Teavee, if you're his mother or probation officer.

He executes an eye roll that also encompasses the left half of his body, a skill particular to all teenagers, as their bodies are held together with Elmer's glue, Sprite, and social anxiety.]

Ha ha, very funny: "golden ticket". Don't hate just because you didn't think to hack one. ...Also...it was basically blood-bath in there, man.

Twitch is lame.

[Mike is banned from Twitch.]

[Mike's face breaks into a grin, then crumples into confusion.]

Cool...wait, what's the magic word?

[The boy doesn't know what an imagination is either.]

[ Hold up. This kid is serious. ]

Wait, for real? Like... Wonkavator, fizzy lifting drink, the schnozzberries taste like schozzberries for real real?

[ Cisco you've talked to Spock and your best friend lives with Han Solo. Why wouldn't Willy Wonka be real? ]

Uh. Yeah? I mean, I didn't see any of that stuff, but yeah. Wonka's real. Not dead. Who do you think makes his chocolate?

That's a trick question, because it's actually these little people things.

Not a game, totally real, and you're getting arrested.

[Says the girl on his screen wearing this outfit in a public setting, judging by the fact that she's sitting at an ice cream parlor at the moment. Jesus, Veronica, get with the times.]

Sure, you could take the cop car, but then the cop would throw you into jail on charges of theft of government property. At least. [She frowns.] There's a Bwitter, was that what you meant?

Uh, pretty sure where I come from it's just Nestlé capitalizing off the brand name.

[ But that veers to closely into telling-the-annoying-teenager-that-he's-fictional territory, so Cisco will shut up there. ]

Anyway, you should probably stop broadcasting yourself and see what that cop wants.

[Mike's mother wears a 1950's house dress and bouffant every day. Mike wears finger-less gloves for no reason. Mike is not qualified to judge your fashion choices.]

If I was getting arrested, I'd be arrested by now. I've been arrested before. That's how it works.

Bwitter? ...is your...is you brain, like, okay...?

[He leans away from his own screen, in case her brain is contagious.]

You're clearly the expert here, then.

[Seeing as Veronica's strenuously avoiding getting arrested and all. But there's a faint note of sarcasm there, as if she personally thinks he's probably not as much of an expert as he claims he is.

—is her brain okay. I occasionally hallucinate my dead classmates and sometimes I see other people's guilt, of course I'm not okay. She doesn't say that, but her mouth twitches a little like she is this close to saying as much. Instead:]

That's the—what did they call it? That's this world's "microblogging platform" [oh, look, finger-quotes!], whatever that means. What, does it go by another name for you?

There are bad guys...It's been a bit quiet, so if you're looking for that kind of thing something will probably happen soon. It really doesn't stay quiet for long around here.

And dude, maybe you should learn to drive if you're going to pull a stunt like that.

As for parties...I happen to like people.

...Huh?

Ugh, fine.

[The communicator drops to Mike's side, and films a lovely view of one of his sneakers, while faintly he can be heard to say: Huh? Where am I? The last thing I remember is my mom giving me that Ambien. Wow, officer, you saved my life. It's true what they say about our boys in blue. Go, USA. There's a long pause, and then the officer sighs and mutters: Right. Just don't try it again. There's the sound of a car door slamming, and a car pulling away. Mike raises the comm.]

Yeah, what'd you mean: where you come from?

Yeah, clearly I am.

[He tries to countering her sarcasm with mocking, but even he seems somewhat aware that he is a teenage boy, and she is a teenage girl, and in a battle of sass, he will lose.]

It's Twitter. How can you not know what Twitter is? My mom knows what Twitter is. ...Sort of.

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