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: (fact: getting into bed)
So for Topher, today had been noteworthy due to a variety of circumstances, the most obvious of which being:

1.) His best friend was apparently a world-famous political blogger who'd saved a whole bunch of kids' lives
2.) Said best friend had just been forced to go into hiding to avoid being killed by a Belgian psychopath
3.) Topher's room was still full of paint fumes, and
4.) It was his sixteenth birthday.

As a result of all of that, plus the portal-lag that came from the round-trip excursion to Peter's universe, Topher was just a little bit exhausted by the time he got back to his room in the evening. Too exhausted, in fact, to indulge in his usual birthday tradition of a cupcake and a couple rounds of laser tag at the nearest arena. So instead, by the time he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed to try to repress concerns about Peter by playing Tetris on his phone.

At least he was kicking ass at it, so, you know, there was that.

[[open! billy | dave | kenzi | ben ]]
dollpocalypse: (neg: why does the suit want to hurt me?)
After an hour and twenty-five minutes spent trying to trace a text message that had just come in on his phone, Topher was forced to conclude two things: one, it was legit, and two, he sort of wanted to crawl under his bed and never come out ever again.

But there were bags of chips under his bed and he really didn't want to find out if the chips had rodent friends down there, so he had to settle for burrowing under the blankets instead, laptop open in front of him as he vengefully and imprecisely shot at zombies in a video game.

Like this weekend hadn't been bad enough. Like he hadn't gotten a stupid (albeit newly vanished) haircut and a hangover. Like he hadn't made a total moron out of himself in front of Ben and Jello Girl and Peter, then hurt his hand making the world's shittiest piece of technology. Now he'd done something to piss Tony off too, and -- here was the kicker -- he didn't even know what it was. Because Tony already knew about that stupid fanfiction story that that bitch Karla had told everyone about, and he hadn't been mad at him after the whole lap-sitting thing on Thursday night, and their encounter as kids on Saturday hadn't been too horrible, and nothing bad had happened in frat, so... what was it?

For a second, he wondered if maybe Kenzi had said something... but they weren't close, were they? He dismissed the idea and shot furiously at zombies. The volume was up ridiculously high, but he wasn't too bothered by the noise of the explosions right now. Or the gore. Even the stuff that normally squicked him out was fine.

[[Door closed, post wide open. This kid. So much emo.]]
dollpocalypse: (!?: oh HELL no)
For the first time since that time last week in Tony's room, Topher woke up naked.

Which... was the least of his problems once his memories flooded back. Tony. Ben. Nate. All of the anonymous "clients" from his past. It was completely horrifying, and the memory alone gave him what appeared to be a nervous tic of the neck spasm variety.

He didn't think he'd actually... followed through. He remembered flirting and -- oh god, KISSING, but then it got fuzzy and he remembered things like Kotex and Bounty. Did that mean he had... used those things? That didn't seem to make sense. But that hardly mattered, did it, when he had DONE THINGS! Things with -- guys!

"Oh, god," he muttered. "I was in love with Tony!"

Yeah, he was going to hide in bed today. ALONE.

[[OOC: Door is closed, post is open. I'm actually moving today, holycrapwtf, so expect extreeeeme SP.]]
dollpocalypse: (fact: getting into bed)
Okay, it was official. Fandom hated him. Not only was Topher's face now a mess of bruises and the occasional nosebleed, but it was also gray. As in fully, entirely gray. And his eyes? Black. His whole body was sore, up to and including the part on his lower back where there was now a tail beginning to grow, and worst of all, his hands (or more accurately, claws) were now fully incapable of typing.

DAMN IT, FANDOM.

Frustrated, Topher kicked at the bottom of his bed. When he didn't immediately feel the usual pain that came from hitting or kicking just about anything, he kicked it again and again, hurling his feet at the bed frame until a long, jagged crack appeared in the smooth wood.

That was... oddly satisfying.

Suddenly, thoughts of science or staying in the room -- which had grown fainter and fainter over the past few days -- were gone. He had anger and cruelty inside of him, and he wanted to do something.

Something... outside. The deer didn't seem so scary anymore. He was just as powerful as they were.

[[Open door for before he runs outside, but mainly establishy!]]
dollpocalypse: (riley: superior)
For all the complaints that people were making about the weather, there were at least two Fandom students who seemed oblivious to the snow on this particular Saturday.

Of course, they weren’t quite aware that they were Fandom students at this particular moment, because they were far too busy battling pythons and alligators.

“What, are you stupid? Hit its jaws with the thing!” yelled Dr. Nikki Riley, gesturing to an invisible (but very menacing) alligator snapping at her cohort’s feet. At the same time, Nikki whacked a large python with what appeared to be a large woolly mammoth bone she’d found in the snow. The python hissed and slithered off.

The invisible, invisible python.

Park Ranger Terry O'Hara knew this entire mess was Riley's overly blond fault and wasn't about to let her make things worse! She had a duty to uphold. A duty to the parks. Sure, she'd given alligators some steroids, but that was all in the course of her duty!

"This is all your fault!" Terry let her know. Because it needed to be done.

[[Oh god, so open. And horrible.]]

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