dollpocalypse: (tech: computer)
So far, Topher was enjoying his summer.

For one thing, he was being challenged intellectually, which was basically paradise, and he got to enjoy said paradise in a lab coat, which made it even better than it already was. His colleagues thought he was brilliant, if rude, which was true, so Topher didn't mind. And even though his supervisor had rejected his request for a mini-fridge full of Yoo-Hoo and which would only open to his own thumbprint, the lab setup wasn't bad: it was very far underground, which was awesome, and the air-conditioning was always cranked to a temperature very close to freezing, which was even better.

Though there were some awkward things that had happened, like when Topher had been fined a few hundred dollars for sending Warren that companion cube. And for some reason, at the last board meeting, the rest of the R&D team had vetoed Topher's suggestion for turrets that could verbally insult the test subjects on the grounds of that being "excessively abusive."

Pfft. Amateurs.

All in all, though, Topher kind of felt like a king at this place. A very low-ranking king who wasn't being paid, mind. But still. It was nice.

[[open for calls and stuff!]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: computer)
Topher had just discovered something surprising. Apparently, there was a school trip in a few days.

He'd been kind of planning on hacking into the database of eligible students for a science fair in Baltimore whose competition was next week, but now he had to choose between science and travel. That was ordinarily an easy decision. Science won out.

'Science' was pretty much the direction he was unequivocally leaning now, in fact, but then he actually started working on that hacking project and was surprised at how difficult it was. "Science fair in Baltimore has more security than the space army," he muttered to himself, annoyedly typing away. If this took more than another half hour, he might just sign up for the trip already and save his ego this unnecessary trauma.

[[open door and post!]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: screen)
So Topher's room was what one might call 'aggressively unclean' at this point, and the extremely hyper and curious robot puppy running around was probably not helping matters. However, Topher had a very good cleaning strategy to prepare for coding funtimes with Victor: kicking the majority of his stuff under his desk, into the closet, or over towards the other side of the room. It was such a great strategy, he couldn't believe no one had ever thought of it before!

Once that was taken care of, he removed his drawer of inappropriate starches from his closet and placed it beside his desk for optimal snacking, set Broca II the robot puppy on his bed to "nap," and then settled at his desk and began looking up ELIZA applications to play with. Whee, coding!

[[open, expecting one!]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: hand snappy)

As it turned out, it was harder to take stories down from a kink meme than you might think. Perils of posting anonymously and all that -- no easy delete button.

Which was why it was fortunate that Topher didn't need a delete button, and managed with little trouble to not only take the story down, but also to gift the moderators with some thoughtful presents to express his appreciation of their entire stupid system.

Mean, system-disrupty presents. Sorry, Pepper totally anonymous moderators.

At least it felt useful to do that rather than the whole video-game-zombie-killing thing. That was a plus. Once he was finished, he considered working a bit on some of Peter's spybots, since his weetiny self had not been kind to them, but the memory of working on them with Tony put that on a definite hold.

So. Moping Hacking for sport it was.

[[for that guy getting a jump start on his career as a heartbreaker actually screw that, i'm bored. door shut but post open.]]

dollpocalypse: (tech: computer)
There really was nothing like a game of laser tag to put Topher in a hacking mood, he decided as he flopped down on his bed, still laser-suited-up with his pack and his blaser on. (He'd picked this equipment out for comfort; in fact, he could probably sleep in it if he had to. Not that he could think of a situation in which he would have to.) With nothing else to do and no one to bother on IM, he thought about maybe poking around some secret files. You know, just for fun. 

The server he'd been investigating for his evil overlord Peter had kicked him out... so maybe it was time for another go.

Before long, he was back clicking through IF files. Ah, laser tag and hacking. Throw in some horrible island craziness that would upset everyone and it would be a perfect day.

[[Open for IMs and visitors! Exactly what files he's poking through is NFB, but the rest is for your broadcasting pleasure!]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: at the computer)
Topher was pretty sure that he was right on the verge of breaking into the files Peter had wanted. He'd spent most of the past week working on it, not to mention today's computer class, and while the files were pretty tough to crack, he knew he'd get it eventually. Come on. He was a genius. Just a few clicks... and... bingo. He was in.

Just what he was in wasn't quite clear. There was a list of names with files on each of them. He clicked on A. Wiggin, not really sure what to expect, and found things like "Command School" and "further education." What? The rest of it was fairly vague, so he went back to look at some other names. This A. Wiggin, whoever he was, was younger than most of them, but other than that, he was just starting to piece everything together when --

Crap. All of a sudden he was locked out of the server, and while he made a few attempts to get back in, he had a feeling it was probably permanent. Ah, well. Hopefully he would have what Peter needed. He took out his phone and sent him a text that just read Got it.

A man of few words, Topher was.

[[For the manipulative brain twin. Conversation and details of what Topher did are NFB, please.]]


dollpocalypse: (Default)

September 2015

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