2013.12.31 - The Alien Invasion is Nigh

It's after sundown, somewhat late, but though most of the activity in the school is done for the day, some students are still up and about. Case in point, 157--who has been seated on top of one of the low tables for some time now, writing slowly on page after page after page of a coil-bound journal and occasionally flipping through a large book to his side. Probably got kicked out of the library when it closed, found a new location, and just kept right on with whatever he was doing. What's written is...complicated. Line after line after line of gobbledygook at first glance, though it might look familiar to someone who knows about computer programming. Still odd, though. One of the TVs nearby is on, playing a late night news program showing the events of the day at a low volume.

Kiden is walking about the student center, playing with her pacifier in her mouth, twirling it and chewing on it while thinking how awesome it would be if they actually allowed smoking in this school. She stops when she spots a little kid, sitting on a table and writing, spitting out her pacifier as it swings from the beaded necklace around her neck, she moves closer to the boy. "You sure you're old enough to be studying here?" She asks, arching a brow as she peeks at the nonsense in his notebook. She assumes he's smart enough at the very least, that stuff he writes looks like alien language.

157 slowly stops writing, his pencil remaining at exactly the same point as it stopped at as he looks up at Kiden. "Query: Are you sure you are old enough to be studying here? Answer: This one is of sufficient age to study at organization designated 'Academy of Tomorrow'. This one was invited to 'Academy of Tomorrow' by 'Ms. Frost' to study. This one estimates this one's age at approximately thirteen years." His speech is quiet, slow, and monotone, and his expression doesn't change one bit. "Information required: Purpose of object hanging from neck of student."

"Well alright, that's just what happened to me, I guess you're also special, aren't you kiddo?" Kiden asks, reaching to ruffle 157's hair playfully. "You talk funny though, what are you a machine or something?" Kiden rolls her eyes before flicking at the pacifier hanging from her beaded necklace, causing it to jiggle a bit, "that? It's a pacifier, you suck on it, bite on it, it's just something to put in your mouth..." no need to tell a 13 year old there's particular uses in raves and such, he doesn't need to know that.

"Query: I guess you are also special, aren't you, kiddo? Answer variable depending on conditions of question. Comparing to average example of species designated 'human', this one is special. Compared to average example of observation and information retrieval unit created by access denied, this one is not unusual." 157 doesn't react as she ruffles his hair a bit, and returns to writing on his sheet. "Query: Are you a machine or something? Answer: This one is biological. This one speaks in the manner this one was taught to speak." A pause. "Statement: It is a pacifier. You suck on it, bite on it, it is just something to put in your mouth. Answer recorded. Information required: Benefits of such utilization of object designated 'pacifier'."

"Can you like, stop talking robo-speech and start talking English? Would make it much easier to follow what you say, for real," Kiden shakes her head, struggling to make sense of 157's oddball method of talking. She figures it might have something to do with his powers, she's seen some weird mutants out there. Rolling her eyes, Kiden flick at her hair, while asking, "who taught you talk? A Martian or a robot?" Squinting at 157, Kiden peeks at the scribblings in his notebook again, as she mutters, "what do you care? If you really want to try it I can get you a pacifier, but more importantly, what's this nonsense you're writing? Is it homework? Because I need to know which class to not take."

"Query: Can you stop talking robo-speech and start talking English? Answer: Affirmative. This one is capable of conversing in a manner closer to norm for species designated 'human' in language designated 'English'. This one will adjust during present conversation." 157 continues writing, slowly and methodically. In theory, it means /something/. His speech remains slow and monotone. "This one was taught to speak by access denied. It is not possible for this one to care about anything. However, this one's mission is to observe and retrieve information regarding the human species on the planet Earth. It is not necessary for this one to want. This one estimates an extremely low probability that the usage of a pacifier is important to this one's study of the planet Earth or the human species. This one will not require retrieval of pacifier." He stops writing, and looks up at her again. "This one is preparing a computer program to serve as access denied by access denied when used in access denied." And he goes back to his writing.

"Waw...it's so much better now that you're talking plain English," Kiden sarcastically remarks, shaking her head and wondering why Emma Frost took 157 into the Academy, because from how he presents it he sounds like a harbinger of the end of all humanity by a vicious alien attack. "I'm pretty sure a pacifier is the most important thing on the planet Earth, for sure," Kiden decides to be playful, "but if you don't want one. No probs, so...I'll just be on my way now, good luck access denied what you access denied, kiddo." She then starts to move towards the dorms area, realizing she's not going to get much out of 157.

Sometimes the dangerous things are better kept close and under observation, one might guess. "This one has fulfilled requirements set by student. Understood." Yeah, 157 doesn't get sarcasm. "Understood. Student expresses opinion that pacifier is of extreme importance. This one will investigate further and consult other resources regarding object. Should it become necessary to retrieve one this one may speak with student." He continues working on his page, not moving to follow. "There is a moderate probability that student's final statement was intended as statement of goodwill. Responding." He looks up again. "Thank you. Good-bye." And he gives a kind of awkward, slow, methodical wave.