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After finally being freed from some annoying lengthy diagnostic tests-she isn't convinced they were even necessary-Tex has taken up residence in one of the media library's pods. Her body language practically screams that she still isn't in what could really be called a good mood, but she's kept the door to the pod open, allowing the sound of the music she's listening to to drift out. She nods her head a little in time to the music, tapping one intangible foot along with the beat.

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Grif is bored, but what else is new? He's usually bored, and if it's not it's probably because he's amusing himself by whining about how he's bored.

Thankfully, the media library has video games. Even better, ones he's never seen or heard of in his dimension. This helps.

Unfortunately, someone's listening to music. That's annoying, so he turns up the volume on the game so that the sound levels can compete. Ahhh, much better.

Tex isn't sure what the hell that racket is, but she knows one thing for certain-it's getting on her nerves. "Turn it down," she snaps, turning up the volume on her own music a little.

No, she's not closing the door. How else is she supposed to keep an eye out for people acting stupid? That's her main source of entertainment.

Turn it down? What?

That sounds like a challenge. Granted it was Tex's voice, but she didn't use his name. He might be able to get away with this for a little bit longer.

The volume level rises.

Tex makes an annoyed noise to herself. She'd come here wanting to calm down, not to get the urge to punch things again.

"Are you deaf?"

"WHAAAAAT?!"

Grif yells exaggeratedly.

"Turn the damn noise down, Grif!"

She's aware that it's him driving her up the wall now. This can only end well.

Oh crap he said something, she knows he's here.

Well, two options. Back down, or stand and fight.

Standing and fighting in this case is pretending he didn't hear her, which he decides is easy enough to do.

"Do you want me to come over there?"

She won't say what her plan when she gets over there is. It's better to leave it up to his imagination.

"TALK TO ME LATER I'M BUSY!" he yells back.

And the volume switch won't go higher, damn.

Tex decides to cut to the chase and blip into Grif's media pod instead. Her hologram's taken on a decidedly angry shade of red.

"I see."

"I'm glad you do. Now go away."

He waves her off, taking advantage of a loading screen.

Tex manages to glower despite the helmet.

"I'm not the one with the volume turned all the way up. Turn it down or I'll make you turn it down."

"How're you gonna do that? My radio's off."

Crafty bastard. He's been learning.

"AI, remember? I can figure something out. Or I can just keep distracting you while you're playing."

"I think you're lying," he says, smugly. And continues to reduce a bunch of monsters to ludicrous gibs as if it's nothing.

"Yeah."

And so she steps right in front of the screen. Transparent or not, she still might count as a distraction. "So you'll do this all day, but when you actually have to fight, you whine and cry."

"I still say you can't make me quit," he replies, ignoring the jibe and craning his neck to see around the distortion caused by Tex's hologram.

"And I say I can." She moves to distort his view again, flaring her hologram a little. "Having some problems?"

"Nooooot really. Gonna take more than that!"

Tex pauses to consider things for a moment, looking around the room. "Y'know, if I poke around enough things, I might hit the right one to turn down the sound. Or I could delete every video game in the system because I don't know what I'm doing."

Okay. That is a pretty good threat, really.

"You're bluffing."

She has to be. She has to be!

"Grif? You know me. I'm not used to the whole 'messing around with tech' side of things. I could only take out of the sound, I could only take out of the video, or I could destroy every high score you've ever had. We don't know yet. But we can find out."

Grif siiiiiighs.

"Fine."

He reaches up and turns it down.

One click.

Tex crosses her arms and continues glowering.

"Try going down a couple more decibles."

Click.

Click.

It totally makes a difference.

That's not a happy noise Tex just made. "More."

One more click. He can do this all day.

"You know, my idea would get this done a lot faster. Maybe I should just go do that. Then I could get back to my music and not have to put up with this crap."

He finally gives in instead of potentially losing it all, and puts the game back to a reasonable level.

"Fine. Now can you go back to leaving me alone? Seriously. I'm starting to think you like making excuses to talk to me."

"You're the one who started it. If you hadn't turned it up so loud I would've ignored it."

"I only turned it up loud because I could hear yours and it was annoying."

"Actual music is more annoying than gunshots?"

"Yes. Yes it is," he says, as if this should be self evident. All the while, he continues to play the game.

Tex watches him for a few moments, shaking her head. "You know, if you put half as much effort into practicing fighting as you do with these stupid games, you might be able to actually win a real fight without help."

"I don't like fighting," says Grif.

"It's against like... two thirds of my religion."

"And the other third?"

"Has several different ideas. But it's outnumbered."

All while violently exploding digital things.

"Uh huh. But fighting where it can't save your life or be useful is perfectly okay."

"What? You mean this?" He gestures at the game. "This doesn't count. Computer people aren't real people, Tex."

Tex stares at him for a long moment. "Grif? Think about what you just said."

"Why?" he asks. He didn't even pause to think that the phrase "computer people" might extend to AI's. He doesn't think of Tex as an AI offhand.

"Because some computer people might get a little pissed off if you're not clear you mean the game people."

He's quiet for about three seconds as that clicks together in his head. Oh, right. He's talking to an AI, not a ghost.

"Oh come on."

"I'm just saying. Do you really want somebody like GlaDOS pissed off at you? Or Cortana out to screw up every game you try?"

"Did I hurt your delicate feelings or something?" Grif grouses. Say one thing without thinking about it...

"I'm just pointing it out. It's not my fault you're good at saying the wrong thing."

"Will you quit picking what I say apart and go away? I turned the game down. Be happy."

"Fine, I'm going. I still say you should turn off the game and actually practice."

With that, she blips back over to her media pod and returns to her music.

Grif has to wait a moment to get an opportunity to do it without committing digital suicide, but he sticks a hand out with the middle finger extended.

Good riddance.

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