dollpocalypse: (!?: i KNOW crazy right)

As a 24-year-old boy genius with two PhDs under his belt, Topher didn't find it difficult to line up job interviews that interested him. For the most part, they were all the same: interesting at first when they tried to woo him, but then inevitably also boring; nothing could hold his interest past the second round of getting-to-know-you bullshit.

But then there was this one place in L.A. where he had made it through three decreasingly cryptic rounds of interviewing before he even learned the scope of the job, and the paperwork he'd had to sign before even being offered a final tour of the office was ridiculous. But Topher didn't need an easy hiring process and, in fact, didn't want one. Based on what he knew of the job, the song-and-dance was worth it. So he showed up to the tour with his hair combed and wearing a too-large grey jacket that vaguely resembled the top part of a suit. By the end of the day, he was going to have a job as chief programmer at an underground facility that rewrote people's minds.

Read more... )


{from dollhouse 1x13, epitaph one. not for broadcast because of location, of course!}

dollpocalypse: (considering: king of my castle)
It was a little dishonest, Topher thought, to claim that this whole Admitted Students Weekend was a true immersive experience in Stanford student life and then have prospective students stay in hotels. On the other hand, he had had more than enough of dorms over the past four years, and a rare opportunity to sleep without some rando from Kansas (just as an example) five inches away was a pretty sweet deal. That was the best night's sleep he had had in years.

Despite having to wake up annoyingly early for a day full of campus walking tours and Science and Engineering Quad tours and something called an "ice cream social," which sounded like a weird blend of delicious (ice cream) and unpleasant (social), Topher was liking this Admitted Students Week thing so far. There was a family one room over from him in which one daughter kept crying because she hadn't gotten in and didn't see why she needed to be dragged along on her sister's 'victory tour.' That was a nice ego boost. And according to some kid on Reddit, if Topher timed his public transit rides correctly, he could skip out of the Volunteering and Public Service lecture, get some In-N-Out, and be back in time for dinner.

So far, he thought he'd like college. Now all he had to do was graduate high school this weekend.

[[open for phone calls!]]
dollpocalypse: (conv: condescending)
Topher should have been packing, but instead he was doing something much less productive: watching and rewatching the Manticore Era III game trailer and writing an email to his graduating class.

To: Class of 2014
From: c.brink@fandomhigh.edu
Subject: Party


Grads-only party on the sixth floor after the ceremony on Saturday. It's my birthday weekend so chip in for snacks. You can bring guests unless they're like your mom.

-Topher

The email actually took longer to write than you'd think.

[[open for replies and visitors!]]
dollpocalypse: (dorky: in undies)
Thanks to a series of events that he would prefer not to recount, thank you very much, Topher now had a slight pea soup problem on his Stanford hoodie, and his generally bad clothes-washing practices meant that he was just going to order a new one online and keep wearing this one until the new one arrived.

He was going to do so well in college.

In the meantime, he was filling out a roommate questionnaire online with the door and window open and his pop music playlist playing just a touch too loudly. Honestly, he was feeling pretty good today, pea soup be damned.
dollpocalypse: (tech: computer)
Lately, Topher's parents had been sending him a lot of emails about signing up for the SAT and coming up with a list of colleges to apply to. For the most part, Topher's response had been to delete said emails and eat chips. Unfortunately, today he ran out of chips and didn't want to go outside to get more. It was pretty unfortunate.

Rather than walk all the way to the common room in search of chips, he tried to come up with another task he needed to do, and sure enough, the only one he could think of was finally answering his parents' dumb emails. So this afternoon he could be found laying on the near his bed with his laptop open in front of him as he flipped through some book called The 377 Best Colleges his mom had sent him and drew pictures in the margins of the schools he thought looked lame. It was a really constructive use of time.

[[open door and post!]]

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