Jiri had it on good report that CS was, quote, 'chill as ****', end quote. Nonetheless, his interviews with other Mansion authority figures had been… dicey? Was dicey the right word for getting brained by Ghost, and the fiasco that was the Ms. Taylor interview? Granted that Ms. Taylor had handled it pretty well, and didn't hate him, but he was still pretty sure that Ghost was out to get him. She always seemed to be drifting around corners whenever he was near, it was creepy.

He had it on good report that CS was an 'authority figure' in quotation marks, too. Everyone seemed to think he was cool, and not in the totally-a-pun-way: he was supposed to be pretty laid back, pretty fun to hang with. There were reports of a certain mini-fridge in his room, for instance. And he'd done the Sharknado thing, which had been epic.

So maybe, just maybe, Jiri wouldn't leave this one feeling like he was on another adults' hit-the-fan list.

He tried not to look as nervous as he felt as he knocked on the man's bedroom door.

“Mr. Johnson?” The lengths he'd had to go to find the man's actual name had been legendary, to say the least. “It's Jiri. Umm. You ready for your AMA?”

He carried his laptop cradled in his arms like mix between a safety blanket and a baby, and waited with jittery hands for the door to open.

The multiple cups of coffee were maybe contributing to that, too. He felt a little like a live wire that a kitten had been chewing through. He was not going to fall asleep for this one. Or get hit with his own laptop. Or… find a third option.

...Please be cool, Mr. Johnson. Please.

Sam’s lone eye opened lazily as he lay on his bed under the covers. Bruno snored loudly on top of his legs while Cammie his tabby cat formed a furry helmet around the top of his head. The vibrations of the cat’s purrs felt like a small massage for his brain. ‘So much for a nap’ he thought as Bruno bounded off of him to the knocking at the door. Sam slowly got out of bed and threw the blankets off of himself and looked back to a displeased tabby that was disturbed by his movements.

Sam looked to the door as he heard his name, ‘Johnson’ Sam giggled to himself slightly as he always did when someone said his last name and he then tolled his eye. No one really called him that except for new students Sam preferred ‘Sam’. ”Yeah?” Bruno started to bark at the door and Sam grumbled and put on some pants as he walked to the door.

Pushing the large Saint Bernard out of the way and muttering a ‘sit’ that was so inaudible Bruno pretended he didn’t hear it. The door opened and raised an eyebrow and then instinctively grabbed Bruno’s collar as the dog tried to greet the guest. His arm jerked slightly under the weight and then he asked again. ”Yeah? Have we met?” the night before had been a long one for Sam and he still hadn’t had any coffee yet so he was probably only working at half capacity.

The man had an eye patch. Like, a real eye patch. Jiri'd thought that was just to make him cooler for photo-ops. But looking at the just-been-slept in wrinkles in the man's clothes, his blearily blinking eye, and the gratuitous pet hair sprinkled over him like confetti...

That eye patch as legit. If it was just a prop, no way he'd be wearing it after he'd obviously just rolled out of--

Umm.

"Umm. No? I'm Jiri. Sorry to, ah, disturb you. I thought Ms. Gemma had set up our interview for this time? The AMA?"

He really, really hoped this was ringing bells. He hadn't confirmed the interview with Cold Steel, but he'd figured they had the date locked down. If it was Gawain or Maya--whichever of the Morris Twins was running around smirking that day--he'd figure this was a prank. But the counselor seemed too professional to stoop that low.

...Maybe.

Maybe this was her way of telling him he was abusing his sleeping-on-her-couch privileges, and he should go bother another teacher for awhile.

Sam thought for a second as he rubbed the sleep out of his good eye with a yawn. The kid seemed like he was there for a reason and when he said AMA it took that coupled with Gemma’s name to spark the interview. Snapping his fingers then pointing at Jiri, ”That’s right the internet thing.” Sam started to laugh as he started to wake up a bit more, ”Did ghost really attack you with a keyboard?” it might have been scary for Jiri but it was for the most part so out of character for ghost he thought it was funny.

”She got me a few years ago with a baseball bat.” he remembered the time fondly, simpler times then. With a nostalgic sigh Sam waved the kid in as he stood away from the door. ”Let me grab a shirt. Then we can grab some coffee before we start this interview, yeah?” it wasn’t a question Sam had already started to move. ”Where you want to do it?” Sam asked simply as he grabbed the first clean shirt he could find. It was an old AC/DC shirt that was faded but still was comfortable to wear. Those were the best kinds of clothes.

Jiri relaxed into a smile as the guy started to laugh. "Yeah, the internet thing--"

And then it became clear what he was laughing about. Not 'the internet thing.' The 'hit by a laptop thing.' His smile froze on his lips. Okay. Seriously. Was any staff member going to take that whole he was assaulted thing seriously?

"It was a laptop, actually." Jiri corrected, his tone the kind of joking that really, really wasn't joking, and was spoken a little through clenched teeth. The following revelation, that she'd gotten Mr. Johnson with a baseball bat, did nothing to make Jiri feel better. He wished he'd gotten that on tape, actually. Maybe he could, something during the course of the interview. Because seriously. That woman? She shouldn't be allowed near children. Why was he the only one that saw that?

The guy went to grab a shirt. Jiri did not argue the point. It that was how it was going to be, then he'd just have to expose Maya as the horrible woman she was all on his own. He offered his hand to the man's dog for sniffing, and scratched the big guy's ears, and plotted. For the good of all Mansion students.

"Yeah, get what you need. I think one of the seniors had a new pot going." He feel into step with the X-Man as they headed kitchen-wards.

"Pretty much anywhere is good. I'm trying to show off different areas of the Mansion. Maybe by the pool? You can do cool ice stuff if you have a lot of water around, right?"

Sam walked down the hallway and to the stairs leaving the door to his room open having a feeling Rowan or Ghost might be showing up to either clean his room or play with Cammie or Bruno both of which were now back on the bed curling up and sleeping. ”Right. Water.” Sam smirked as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen his skin started to ice over to demonstrate his powers a bit before falling off making it look like he was shedding some skin. ”Most of the time there is enough moisture in the air to work with. I can use sweat and blood as well.”

The kitchen was empty now except for Kat’s mom who was making a big lunch for some of the kids. Sam smiled to her and then grabbed a mug for some coffee and then offered some to Jiri.

It took them another minute or so after exiting the back door in the kitchen for them to get to the pool. This time of year there weren’t too many people around it but there was still the occasional hardcore tanner who wanted to bronze their skin. Today there wasn’t meaning Sam wouldn’t have to feel bad for making it cold. ”This spot good?” Sam asked as he sat down at a wooden table with an umbrella in it’s center and a few wooden chairs surrounding it. ”I don’t know what kind of lighting you need but the other interviews I did they wanted artificial lights.” Sam took a sip of his coffee and sat down. Reaching into his pocket he produced a flask and topped off his coffee a bit.

”So… how do we do this?”

Jiri sat down on a pool side chair like a condemned prisoner sitting on an electric chair.

The man—the teacher of defense—the X-Leader—had just taken a flask from his pocket. And tipped it into his coffee. There had been zero attempts to hide this action. In the growing emptiness in his heart where a faith in the adults around him should be, Jiri only wished he'd had the webcam set up already. Maybe he'd get lucky; maybe the man would do that again. On camera.

The Iranian teen silently nudged his own cup towards that flask. Partly to see if the X-Leader would pour for a minor, and partly because he might need a little something to get him through this.

“All right then,” Jiri said, smiling weakly. “So. Any questions, or shall we get this thing done?”

The day was picturesque. The sun was shinning, the pool was blue and chlorine-scented, and a light breeze riffled the bright umbrella posed artfully above their heads.

Jiri had never so clearly understood the urge to become an alcoholic.

Ignoring the mug nudge in his direction Sam took a sip of his now spiked coffee and raised an eyebrow to Jiri. ”No, just a typical interview right? Like I said, done them before.” Sam shrugged as he leaned back into his chair with his cup in hand.

”I’m allowed to ask you some questions as well right?” Sam asked hoping it was more of a talk show interview.

“I… don't think anyone's ever asked that before,” Jiri blinked. No dice on the mug mixer, he noted. Either the man was being responsible, or being a hog. He didn't know the X-Leader enough to know which. “Usually I keep the focus on whoever I'm interviewing. There's a live chat going on in the Audubon-X forums—you know, the Bird Watchers?--and I'm basically cherry-picking questions off there. No one's ever asked me questions before. I mean, I'm kind of the boring voice-behind-the-camera.”

Like, really boring. High schooler with no real life experience or interesting stories to his credit boring. He was squeaking by his classes with C's and the occasional B-for-Boring.

“I guess you could if you wanted to.” Jiri scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, if you think anyone would be interested. You're way cooler than I am.”

Witness: eye patch and drinking-before-noon.

”Well, that’s just part of the mutation.” Sam said with a little smirk into his coffee. He still enjoyed his lame puns. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, they were hilarious.

”Jiri, I live at the mansion.” Sam threw a thumb in the direction of the large building. ”You don’t come here unless you got some kind of story.” Sam pointed then to Jiri, ”Takes someone with a story of some kind to do what your doing.” Sam then pointed to himself with his thumb, ”I’m sure I’m as interesting as anyone.” Sam said into his cup.

”Give and take. That’s what I was told how to make interviews great. Right?” Sam said as he nodded to the computer. ”I’m stoked let’s do this.”

For a moment, Jiri looked more like a fish than anything that would be found in the pool behind them. His mouth opened, closed, opened. He'd been here for the better part of a year now, and that was the first time any adult had expressed an honest interest in his life. Or called him interesting, for that matter. Some of them had used other descriptors, but this was his first interesting.

His gaping resolved itself into a grin. “Give and take, huh? Let's do this thing.”

With no further ado, Jiri turned the webcam on, and got this interview rolling.

“Welcome, internet denizens. It's another lovely day at the Mansion. By popular demand and whatever blackmail Ms. Taylor managed to pull, we've got with us Mr. Sam Johnson, better known as Cold Steel.”

"Cold Steel has just informed me that this AMA's going to be a little different than our usual ones. So, ah. Yeah.”

Jiri reached out a hand, and turned the web cam around. Towards himself. For the first time since a certain poltergeist had hit him with his own computer, the show's host appeared on screen.

“Some of you have figured this out already, but I'm Mansion student Jiri O'Leary, aka InvasionOfTheBS, aka your charming host. And apparently I'm going to get some questions asked of me today, too. So.”

With a scrape of plastic-on-concrete, Jiri dragged his chair around to the other side of the table, and set up the webcam so both of them were in the view. And so Sam could see the chat questions, too.
“Ehem. Fan girls, keep your shirts on, 'cause Mr. Johnson can now see the screen. Umm. Or… don't?”

The Iranian teen started turning red as his Irish half on behalf of the internet.

“So, Mr. Johnson. True or false: this is more cleavage than you've seen in the past year.”

Because, really, they all wanted to know the answer to this pressing question.

There was a reason he didn't usually let people see the screen. Not since Ghost's catastrophic peek.

The scrapping of the chair caused his vision to blur for a second because well, that sound was cringe worthy. Not as bad as nails on a chalkboard, insert another cringe. Sam looked to the internet and gave a slight wave as Jiri first introduced himself and then the icemancer. It seemed Jiri was a natural at this. The words on the screen however were moving a little too fast for Sam to see, whether it was due to his one eye and lack of depth perception or the fact that there were just so many questions but Sam didn’t see the image to the first question he was asked if there was one.

Leaning into the computer a bit Sam smirked as if he had seen it. ”False, but…” Sam placed his coffee on the table and did a slow motion two thumbs up. ‘Interact with the audience, check.’ Sam had a mental checklist for interviews, he remembered his first one and how awkward he was until the first commercial break then he got a nice pep talk by the then host of the show. Looking to Jiri, ”Is that a true or false for you? Questions like this are common? I can see why you like doing this so much.”

Sam looked back to the screen then gave another wave, ”How’s everyone doing today?” Sam spotted a few choice words then he looked back to Jiri, ”Well they certainly straight to the point aren’t they?” Sam waiting on the next question making sure he didn’t steal the show from the host because that was a big interview ‘no-no’.

>> ”Is that a true or false for you? Questions like this are common? I can see why you like doing this so much.”

“True,” the teen grinned. “But don't underestimate our viewers. Think of this as a petting zoo; the safari is about to begin.”

Lion and tigers and TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT. Speaking of: that was indeed a common request scrolling in the chat.

“So, let's get this properly rolling. First question...” He scrolled the chat, looking for something at least half-way decent. In both senses of the word. “How did you join the X-Men?”

“Eye patch: real or fake?”

“Boxers or briefs?”

A typical start, courtesy of the internet.

Sipping his coffee trying not to choke on his drink Sam chimed in, ”Petting zoo safari. Screams lawsuit doesn’t it?” Sam asked rhetorically as he spotted a few comments requesting for him to lose his shirt. Debating on it for a second he decided to ignore the request and turn his attention to the host of the show.

Sam laughed, ”You know I didn’t want to join the X-Men at first.” Sam smiled into the screen as he read the question then looked to Jiri, ”I just wanted a place to stay for a few days. But there is an interview with existing members and then a physical test.” Sam flexed his arm and his ego into the screen. ”Jiri, give them a flex I feel weird doing this on my own. I mean it’s less weird for two grown *** men to flex into a camera than one right?” Sam asked smirking to the host. Sam didn’t elaborate much more about the process otherwise everyone would be at the doorstep of the mansion and while they were short team members Sam doubted he’d get people there for the right reasons.

Next question ”Eye patch… real, I’d show you all but I don’t want anyone to get grossed out. It’s cooler than what is underneath right?” Sam asked the host for reassurance that this wasn’t something he wanted to scar the fans with. ”Lost it in Romania during their camps. Though, I have to say we were there illegally and not part of any government agenda.” Sam smiled and then turned his head to one side then over exaggerated a wink, which was hard with one eye. He was serious there the only agenda they had was to save lives which he did so a loss of an eye was a fair price.

”Boxer briefs.” Sam said leaning in his chair, ”Last thing you want when someone shooting at you is to have too much flying about or not enough movement. Boxer briefs, freedom and security all in one.” Sam sipped his coffee. ”Jiri, you?” Sam asked him.

Oh god the flexing. Jiri had a middle school girls-giggling-in-gym-class freeze up before slapping on a grin, and making himself relax. There was no way he was going to match up to Cold Steel, or any of the other topless gentleman he'd paraded on this show. Which left only one thing for it: flex his wimpy regular-guy muscles, and grin with zero shame as he did.

“Just for the record, ladies: I'm single. For a limited time only.” Might as well get into the spirit that Sam was setting up.

“Wait, what?” Jiri turned where he sat as the X-Man continued answering questions. “Romanian? Like, when they had that registration thing? I thought that all blew over really quickly. How did you even get hurt?” It only lasted for what, a month or two? He vaguely remembered his social studies teacher trying to tie it to their holocaust unit, but everyone knew he was being way too melodramatic about it to try and 'make it relevant.' That had been before he'd really cared about mutant… stuff.

He had his answer to the next question ready. Super ready. Been-ready-since-Alex-outed-his-undies-preferences-last-time ready. “Boxers. I have come to appreciate their many colorful patterns and the ability of the internet to stop caring what's in my pants oh god that came out wrong.” Jiri made a point of slowly sliding down in his chair, until he was effectively hidden from the camera.

Meanwhile, questions were still rolling in, if Sam cared to read any of them:

You know who took his shirt off like a real man? Cafas. You want to lose to a koala man? Take off your shirt for MURICA!

Where to the X-Men get off with thinking they have a right to interfere in the legal rights of sovereign nations?

so im dating a girl who says her mutation makes her a vegan, is that even a thing or is she totally BSing me