Room 307, Monday Afternoon

[dollpocalypse]

It wasn't like Topher was writing fanfiction about one of his best friends or anything.
 
At all. Because that would be wrong.

It was just that, well, said best friend (shut up, he totally was his best friend) happened to be a superhero. A superhero with, as it turned out, an exceptionally devoted online fanbase. Who had… ideas. And something called a kinkmeme.

And some of them were just stupid. Like the one about the tentacles. Or the one with the… what was it called? Sailor fuku? Please. Tony would never wear something like that. He'd even said so. These people clearly didn't know him at all.
 
So, naturally, he had to retaliate. Retaliate in the form of a novel-length RPS story of his own, in which a high-school-aged Iron Man fell for a science-minded classmate named Chris Strink.
 
Take that, apepperpot.

[[omg blame hoorayimrich. open to artificial intelligence thingies, comments on his masterpiece, visitors, IMs, whatever you want.]]

Comments

[endsthegame]

Jane was bored. Bored, bored. Not bored enough to mess around with IF planning files, but bored enough to do... something.

She noticed Topher's internet activity after only a microsecond, and followed it for a little while. She grokked the pattern pretty well after that, especially considering what she'd gotten out of Ender about this particular guy.

And so it was that, completely out of the blue, one of Topher's YouTube tabs discretely flicked to another page without alerting its owner of the fact, and suddenly a song was thundering through the loudspeakers.

[dollpocalypse]

WHAT.

Slowly, slooooowly, Topher leaned forward and peered out the open door, filled with dread for the possibility that this song might be coming from a certain room across the hall. When he realized that it was actually coming from his own computer instead, he was actually relieved.

And then aghast that someone had managed to redirect his computer. His computer!

Immediately he was tapping away, minimizing his masterpiece (and turning off the song, thank you very much) as he tried to trace where whoever it was was coming from.

[endsthegame]

Jane gracefully retreated back through the port she'd come in through, leaving not a trace of evidence in her wake. She snuck in through an entirely different one instead and started poking at Topher's 'masterpiece' while he was busy, altering lines of dialogue to more closely resemble parts of Othello (you could only spend so much time around Ender without picking up some Shakespeare) before leaving a few friendly notes.

Like 'can't we go a little more OVER THE TOP?'.

Or 'But what is this character's motivation for taking his shirt off??'.

And 'Do we really need three full pages of technology porn?'.

Finishing off with, 'You know self-inserts are tacky, right.'

[dollpocalypse]

DAMNIT, JANE. TOPHER DID NOT ENJOY BEING OUTSMARTED.

After twenty minutes of futilely searching, punctuated by occasional swearing and kicking things at walls, Topher had no choice but to sulk and abandon his mission.

Until a comment popped up on his story complimenting the Othello allusions, and, aghast that someone had had the nerve to alter his masterpiece, he was right back to searching and kicking things at the wall again.

Finally he thought he might've found the port the intruder was coming from, and fired off an eloquent IRC message.

WHO ARE YOU!?!/??!?1

[endsthegame]

The only response Topher got went about like this:

Guest: When you receive
the pearls of love, wear
them with pride

Guest: Time to tie
up those loose ends
into beautiful bows

Guest: A man loves
the meat in his youth that he cannot
endure in his age

[dollpocalypse]

Gah! THIS WAS MADDENING.

With a childish whining noise, Topher flailed around for a bit, kicked off his socks in frustration, headdesked, and then attempted another approach. Or rather, the same bad approach again.

TBrink: WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?????

[endsthegame]

Guest: shaking and crying

Jane was not planning to be helpful any time today, sorry. She was not impressed by your teensy human brain, Topher.

[selfhelphero]

It wasn't like Billy was reading fanfiction or anything. It just happened that he was bored after class, and that meant pulling out his laptop and wandering through the internet. It was a total accident that he ended up at the kinkmeme.

Just like the last few times. Really.

He was just scrolling through, skimming the new entries when the words "high school" caught his eye. That was entirely Tony's fault, for talking to him and reminding him that a teen-aged Iron Man existed. As for reading the story, well, that was probably his own fault, but it was so long and earnest that he had to keep going to see where the story would end up. He had trouble letting go that way.

When he got to the end, he logged in registered to leave a response, wondering if the fangirl author (the writing totally pinged fangirl to him, even if it was about a boy) would even read it. Still, he typed Great story! Would love to see more. :) and sent it off.

[dollpocalypse]

Ha! Finally, someone who didn't want to talk about Shakespeare or self-inserts or whatever. Take that, Jane.

Thanks! he wrote back. I'm thinking about a sequel where Chris saves him from a tentacle monster. Yea or nay?

[selfhelphero]

Billy had never actually had that mental image before, but it was kind of hard to get rid of now. Yea, definitely, although where would the monster come from?

Darn Billy and his need for a modicum of reality in his stories.

[dollpocalypse]

This fic here, Topher answered helpfully, with a link to a dreadful, dreadful story he'd read this morning, says they just show up in subway tunnels sometimes.

Someone in Tony's universe had gotten her facts wrong, oh yes.

[selfhelphero]

Billy made a face, but clicked on the link anyway, and then backed away quickly. No, they really don't. Definitely not like that. Because ew, no, dreadful. Maybe there'd be one at the school?

[dollpocalypse]

Seems like something that would show up at Pandom, Topher replied thoughtfully. Because his fake names for things were so creative. Seems like the kind of place that would get that kind of thing. Or mechanical spiders. Or weird mutated alots and stuff.

Shh, Topher.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi had a cold. And a boredom. And the urge to be distracted. Time to bug Topher.

"Hey." She flopped down on the floor. "Whatcha doing? Feed me."

[dollpocalypse]

"How do you spell 'scrotum?'" Topher wondered to himself, momentarily distracted.

Then he noticed Kenzi.

"Oh. Hey. Should be some food under my bed."

It was a perfectly reasonable storage area! Shut up.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi paused. "S.C.R.O.T.U.M." Wait. "Although you should look up if there's another U in there." Ha! Kenzi rolled over and extracted a bag of chips from under the bed, looked at it, and shrugged as she opened it. "Why are you wanting to know? You I'm here for you with my new job."

[dollpocalypse]

"Science paper," he lied, more convincingly than his usual. Squinting down at the screen, he shrugged and decided, "Yeah, that looks right. 'Sup with you?"

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Uh-hunh. What class is this?" Kenzi sat up, still nibbling chips, and tilted her head. "I have a cold. I'm bored. Movie in-class. May nap in the Common Room later. My room is boring. Why were you drinking with Ramona?"

Yes, sometimes she listened to Radio.

[dollpocalypse]

"Anatomy," he answered distractedly, typing a conclusion to that sentence that included a few other clinical-sounding science words. "And I wasn't drinking," he said, with an attempt at dignity. "We were just talking. About... stuff. And people."

And smoking pot. You know. As you do.

[exactlyaverage.livejournal.com]

SARAH had noticed a upswing of internet activity going to a certain website and showing some AI curiosity reviewed the story in question. With some certain puzzlement.

Certainly there seems to be a good deal of effort in this story she posted, But the teen superhero seems to be a bit far fetched. Have you thought of maybe a pirate theme? Or perhaps Zorro?

[dollpocalypse]

Upon reading the comment, Topher sighed and facepalmed. PEOPLE JUST DIDN'T GET HIM. Except for Billy.

No, he replied firmly. It's a superhero and that's it.

Take that, SARAH.

[exactlyaverage.livejournal.com]

Have you thought of other types of romance of a sci-fi nature? Perhaps between a lonely AI and a handsome law enforcement robotic deputy?

[dollpocalypse]

Are you AI? Topher wondered, raising an eyebrow at the screen. Whose are you?

[exactlyaverage.livejournal.com]

I'm my own really, she wrote back. However I room with Jack Carter and Annie Edison. Who are you? You wouldn't happen to know a Douglas Fargo, would you? You seem to have similar writing styles.

[dollpocalypse]

Nope. No Douglas here, Topher reported. Is Annie that underwear girl?

Oh, Topher.