dollpocalypse: (twenty: smirk)
It had officially been forever since the guys' last drinking night, so with the six of them all on the island for a weekend, there was really no excuse not to have some kind of gathering. And since Topher's hotel room had space on the ceiling and awesome futuristic-looking furniture, there was pretty much exactly no question about where this gathering would be.

And with an alcohol tolerance that had been drastically reduced by going almost fourteen years without drinking at all, Topher stood a very high chance of getting stupidly drunk tonight. It was probably going to be hilarious.

The bar was stocked to capacity with, among other things, every necessary ingredient for every girly cocktail ever invented, and Topher had hauled the entire contents of his office's Drawer of Inappropriate Starches onto the table for the occasion. (Ivy would get more for him before he got back to LA, he was sure. ...He was mostly sure.)

"B-t-dubs, there's astronaut ice cream in the bathtub," Topher announced loudly to everyone. "...No idea why it's there. But Ben gets last dibs."

Cruel, Topher. Cruel.

[[for the 20-years-older nerds! let's see if two decades made them more responsible.]]
dollpocalypse: (fact: drawer of inappropriate starches)
Well, it had been a pretty slow week for Topher so far, leaving out the safari with Billy and Ace and that weird conversation with Natalie the other day, and maybe a tiny part of him was scandalized and appalled by the fact that some kid he didn't know on the radio had accused him of not being a partier. He was totally capable of partying, okay? Just with people he liked. That was critical.

So what was his solution? That's right. A movie night with some bros.

Well, two bros and a boyfriend. Whatever.

So the beds got pushed together, a thoroughly unreasonable amount of room service was ordered even considering they were four teenage boys, and a really bad movie was on. There were dinosaurs in it, and the dinosaurs had laser guns. That probably said it all.

"I'm sending a copy of this to Ben for whenever he gets to be a person again," Topher declared, leaning forward to grab another handful of Cheetos. "This is gold."

[[for the bros!]]
dollpocalypse: (neg: sit here & angst till he texts back)
When Topher had snapped back to reality yesterday, he'd been in a closet up at the school, and after a few hours had finally managed to get up to trudge back to his room. There, he'd proceeded to gather up the Space Battles sheets from his bed and drag them into his own closet, and... well, hide.

That was where he woke up this morning (not that he'd gotten very much sleep), and with everything going on in his head (Victor Kate Elle Stephanie Billy Victor) he thought he might just... stay that way. For a long time. Here there wasn't anything going on besides his thoughts, but there also wasn't anyone who could hate him for what he'd done (and he couldn't stop hearing Tony's voice in his head calling him a monster), and... he'd done some pretty horrible things.

Like with Peter.

Oh fuck, Peter.

dollpocalypse: (neg: could've handled that better)
In retrospect, deciding to go running with Tony and Billy today was not really a plan worthy of Topher's 'genius' title.

Point the first: Topher sucked at running. He was terrible at it. Just really, really bad. So there was a lot of panting and doubling over with his hands on his knees going on.

Point the second: Tony. Running. Unf.

And point the third: Billy too.

Topher was pretty sure he was going to die.

[[for the aforementioned hotasses!]]
dollpocalypse: (smug)
So apparently the squirrels really liked Topher or something. Two radio broadcasts in three days. Seriously, he pretty much wanted them dead or something at this point. They were horrible, horrible creatures.

But in happier news, he'd finally finished his Christmas present for Tony and he had Billy coming over in a little bit to play video games. Both of which were good things.

There was nothing weird about taking a few seconds to organize his room before Billy showed up, right? Like moving some of the garbage off the floor and all that and organizing the bags of chips and video game controllers all in one place opposite the TV? That was just manners or something.

[[Oooopen, expecting three, Peter thread is last.]]
dollpocalypse: (neu: i can't really take care of myself)
The world hadn't ended. The world was okay and there were people hugging and crying, but the lights were still off in the room across the hall from his, which meant that Topher had only one place to check.

He didn't run, though it was a near thing, and that was mainly because his legs still felt a little shaky after having flown around a freaking mountaintop on a wingless dragon. So he walked, his heart pounding erratically with worry and hope. A nervous habit kicked in, and as he stepped into view of the very tip of the island, Topher brought one knuckle up into his mouth to chew on uncertainly.

Please let him be there, please let him be there...

[[For guess who.]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: thinking at computer)
After work, and the weirdness that had been his conversation with Ben, Topher was maybe a little eager to get to the lab to go build things. So he went in (knocking was for other people), and... there was a disassembled suit. Really disassembled, actually. Like, it took Topher a minute to even figure out that it was a suit.

What the hell?

"Dude, what happened?"

[[for him whose lab it is, yo, and NFB]]
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: screen)
Topher had a brand-new video game and absolutely no further patience for outdoor shenanigans, so as soon as he'd talked to the people who bore talking to (and Kenzi), he made his way to his room to set it up.

It was probably best not to ask where he'd gotten the giant screen or the makeshift console that didn't seem to have a brand name on it. The answer to that came from the enormous mountain of wires and various other pieces of orphaned tech equipment on the floor.

After hooking up two controllers and setting up a giant bowl of food that he'd unceremoniously stolen from the picnic, he flopped down on his bed and started booting up the game. This was way better than meeting newbies, he decided. Unless the newbies were zombies, but he doubted that.

[[Door is cracked, post is open, thread with Tony is chronologically last!]]
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.]]
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: (Default)

September 2015

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