Upgraded Voices in my Head

Michael makes an entrance

Dropping down to the final step, Jeremy swiveled around to awkwardly lean against the soda stained arm of a battered sofa (the Squip would have to convince him to dispose of that later), all while never taking his eyes off the rather uncomfortable advanced ai. He stared the boy down for a few moments in a (successful, if his host's increased fidgeting was any indication) attempt at intimidation before shuddering, a wave of cold electricity running up his spine, and snapped back in hopes of distracting from his darkening cheeks, air sudden too hot and room too cramped (especially with the gremlin huddled in one of the couch's corner and gripping the controller so hard his nails were digging into its plastic sides, music blaring from his oversized headphones so loud it was audible even from where they stood as glossed over eyes fixated themselves on crude low poly pixel art). 

"What?" He sneered, practically baring his fangs and catching the human off guard before he mentally scrambled for a reply that didn't reveal how shamelessly he'd been checking the computer out.

"I, uh, I was just wondering why, um, why you're human form still look kinda like Keanu Re-oof!" Before Jeremy could finish, his guest ripped off his headphones, threw them on the woolen carpet, and tackled him in a warm hug, flinging them both into the sofa cushion and wiping the hostile interaction clean from the host's mind. The Squip, eyeing the home intruder cautiously, silently slipped behind the stairs as Jeremy reciprocated the hug, burying his face in his friend's soft shoulder for a soft moment before beaming a warm smile at him. "Michael! Holy shit, it's so good to see you, man. How come you're home early?"

"Our flight back got cancelled so we took an early one home. The trip was still hella gnarly though. God, you woulda loved it, man! We're taking you with next time, I promi...whoooooa, wait..." Eerie silence piercing through enthusiasm to reveal concern as he finally took in Jeremy's new apprentice in full. The gamer gently cupped his reddening face with one hand, gingerly thumbing over the fresh scar, along with a few stray acne bumps, on his cheek and brushing the soft curls dangling in front of his bandages out of the way. "Dude, what...happened?" Startled by the sudden intimacy, he bashfully turned to the side to avoid his friend's intense stare and explained what led to the mess that was last night, taking particular care to leave out the face planting like a moron bit and being practically coddled by his dotting Squip before standing back up and bracing himself for Michael's reaction.

"...Well,...yeah, but...you're good now, right?" He pried, poking and prodding a now heavily flustered Jeremy's face in search of any softly injuries he might've missed. "'Cause I don't think I could ever forgive myself if something serious happened just 'cause I wasn't here to, like, nag you about taking care of yourself n' shit."

Jeremy eyes widen before they shifted to the floor, his hands beginning to fidget again (Squip would have to deal with that later). "Aw, c'mon, Micky, y-you know you don't have to worry about me." The jet lag from his wonky trip hours ensured that Michael did not have the time, nor the energy, to explain why that sentence took the prize for biggest understatement of the decade. "I'm totally fine! I mean, my head is givin' me hell and I'm fucking starving, but, like, besides that Squip says I'll be fine, so, uh, yeah." He spat out, earning an overly drawn out sigh of relief from his player 1 who slumped back into his seat.

"Oh, thank god!" Shoulders dropping, Michael leaned back against his friend and let out a sigh. "Man, you are so fucking lucky you're not hurt for real, Jer. You pull a stunt like that again and I won't hesitate, bi-wait did you say squip?" The other nodded casually before Michael shot him a curious look.

"Oh, right! Okay,.." He shot up out of his seat and swiftly grabbed Michael's sleeve, ripping him up from the couch to revealing a stone faced, cleanly dressed man that the player 1 could only describe as a stylish and almost threatening version of "chill" personified practically staring into his soul, while Jeremy hooked himself onto the man's arm, vibrating with an almost childlike excitement. It vaguely reminded him of the joy that the player 2 radiated after finally asking Christine out or finding out about how to silence Squips excessive internal nagging with a mountain dew red binge (the irony between that last example and the situation at hand did not escape Michael)"So! This is my-"

"Squip." He interjected, extending an arm in search of a handshake while silently bracing himself to touch a most likely greasy and calloused hand. "Shorthand for super quantum unit Intel processor. You must be Michael. Truly a..." Closing his eyes and grimacing, he forced out his best, almost like the words stung. "...pleasure...to meet you, sir. Jeremy has told me many oh, for god sakes, why do you humans insist on throwing things at me today!?" The hologram groaned, bending over to pick up the thrown Xbox controller that had phased through him and place it back on top of its console while Jeremy ran to Michael's side.

Failing to apprehend his friend due to his less than stellar strength (see: noodle arms), he opted for a more reason-based persuasion, muting the voice inside his head nagging on about how the emotion driven best friend would probably just dismiss anything he said when dealing with something this serious.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem!?"

Micheal gave his friend a baffled look before pointing at the hologram. "That! That thing is the source of like...85% of all my problems."

"I assume the other 15% stem from your raging idiocy, correct?"

Before Michael could bite back with a "Fuck off, you satanic tic tac!" or something equally unclever, Jeremy glared at his Squip before overprotective wrapping his arms around Michael, who's eyes widened at the sudden contact, and pulling him close, taking a half step back from the program. "Hey, cool it, dude! That's, like, my favorite person you're talking about."

The Squip cringed at the young adult's poor taste. "That's your favorite person?" Clearly he didn't have much competition for the title.

...not that he wanted it, of course.

"Oh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. I swear, he's usually not..." Jeremy studied the almost bloodthirsty look in the eyes of his kicking and screaming friend as he clawed frantically at the offending Intel processor. "...like this." 

"I should hope not. Spending too much time around someone so..." The computer program circled around the calmer yet still scouring teen, combing over every inch of him with his electronic scanners. "...juvenile would hinder my objective." 

"Suck a dick, asshole!"

The Squip only blinked. "I hope you know you're only proving my point."

"I hope you know you're a defective piece of shit."

A harsh, palpable silence fell over the room as Michael slumped into his player two's arms in gradual exhaustion and said player loosened his grip subtly and unwittingly leaned toward his Squip, his wide eyes frantically picking apart each pixel. Simulated breath hitching, the Squip froze for so long Jeremy had time to toy with the idea that he might be glitching. The last time Jeremy saw him project glossy, shifting eyes, shaky hands, and a loss for words (God knows that thing never shut up) was during the glimpse he caught moments before passing out from the shock of The Play™. Back then it'd only been there as a last-ditch attempt to draw sympathy out of Jer in vain hopes of reactivation, but there was no reason for it now, considering the lack of real, high-stakes threat (Unless you counted Michael and, quite frankly, he knew the Squip was smart enough not to). The first time was a dull shock to Jeremy's system.

The second only stirred up a vague sense of concern he was sure the Intel processor saw.

The Squip, of course, couldn't have that.