dollpocalypse | Entries tagged with i answer to: peter wiggin

Nothing to do? Why not check on some spybots? Well, that was Topher's motto, anyway.

Topher clicked through the interface, going camera by camera -- huh, random blurry scuffle on the roof, what was that about? -- until he got to the one that spent the most time chilling in Peter's room. It seemed to be working, although, okay, that was weirdly close to Peter's desk. He was going to have to work on its spacial recognition or something so it didn't just climb on top of things and wind up filming Peter's freaking emails... huh.

Look, it wasn't like he could just not read it when it was all zoomed in on the screen like that, okay?

I can only hope that, in the event of success, you will choose to emulate Washington, MacArthur, or Augustus rather than Napoleon, Alexander, or Hitler.

Colmin

...what?

Okay, there were totally about five tabs being opened right now, and only four of them were to figure out who the hell those people were.

[[open door, open post! spybots nfb and all with the permission of the majestic lockestheway. eta: initial subject of the ender thread is gonna be nfb as well, la, but the fact that he stopped by and there was gaming is okay.]]

Upon finally returning to his room after a five-day vacation, item one on Topher's agenda was to stand on the inside of the door and just have a moment of dorkish glee. He'd been on a whole other planet! And it was awesome! And he'd gotten bitten by a weird giant bug thing and seen mostly-naked girls and half-naked Ben and Ender and almost crashed Ben's speeder, but it was all on another planet so it was awesome!

Once that was taken care of, he composed himself (though he still looked a little overenthusiastic) and started unpacking. He set Kenzi's present on the dresser, tossed his clothes and the stupid, stupid poncho into their rightful places on the floor, and then shoved his luggage under his bed.

And then his room was neatly in order (you know, if you were Topher), which left him to flop down on his bed and grab his laptop.

( After almost having gotten Peter into trouble this weekend, he felt like he should look at a few things... )

[[Door is cracked, post is open. Spybots and stuff under the cut NFB, and obviously done with the permission of the marvelous

lockestheway.]]

Topher did not wish to leave the lab. Really. He was perfectly content to stay there for a good long while. Maybe get a hamster or something. He and Warren could live there forever and grow beards and learn pizza delivery guys by name (if the world didn't end and wipe out pizza delivery guys forever) and he'd learn all about wings and bunnies and hamsters and probably sleep in Tony's suit or something.

However. Supposedly there were things around town that were trying to eat people. So Peter wanted him to move.

And plus, it was probably a good idea to get a change of underwear at some point. And pizza delivery guys didn't get that stuff for you. Not that he'd asked, or anything.

But... lab. Cozy. Comfy. Full of tech that could possibly save the world. And it smelled comforting, like engine grease and Tony. And Warren was here, and and and...

Okay. Yeah. Topher definitely wasn't leaving anytime soon. He was just going to take two steps outside in the direction of the dorms so he could tell Peter he'd tried, then probably hurry back into the lab. That was the best possible plan, right? Right.

[[For them whose services ~~are getting~~ have been requested, and then that girl who knows who she is.]]

Fact: Research sucked.

But here Topher was, doing it anyway. Because Peter had told him to, and that was enough, most of the time, to get him to do things. Sad but true.

And... maybe Topher was a little bit more inclined to do as Peter said this week in particular for another reason too. Which would be the need to appease him in light of the terrifying possibility that maybe, just maybe, Karla had blabbed the contents of their conversation the other day and now Peter wanted to kill him and get a new tech person and not be his friend anymore and and and --

Anyway.

Researching.

It was hard, with the siren call of ~~meta for~~ Skyrim beckoning to him, but Topher was managing.

[[open door, open post]]

Topher, ladies and gentlemen, was not having a great morning.

His morning (or afternoon, really) started out with a loud groan of protest against just about everything. Then, before his eyes could even open but just as the events of last night started to come back to him, he shrieked.

And then his ankle throbbed and he shrieked again.

Ohhhh, god. Oh god oh god oh god. Today was THE WORST EVER. He thought about getting up and taking something to get rid of that horrible headache of his, not to mention the severe ankle pain, but... didn't. He just rolled over onto his stomach and whimpered quietly into the pillow.

[[Post is as open as open can be! Door is closed but unlocked.]]

Topher was not having the best day in the world. Not by a long shot.

First he had woken up to find his eye still smarting from the day before (seriously, how many times was he going to get punched this month? Come on!), and then he had reluctantly trudged to the junk yard to try and find some parts to make into laser robots for Peter. He had actually found some things that might be useful, but he had also stumbled across a rat twice the size of his foot that had sent him shrieking back to the dorms. And of course he'd stumbled on the way, so now he was limping on top of everything else.

The solution? To collapse on his bed and eat some Cheetos, of course. He didn't have any ice to put on his eye, so he dug an ice cream sandwich out of his minifreezer and stuck it on there.

See? All better.

[[Door and post open!]]

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!]]

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.]]

Profile

dollpocalypse

April 2020

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
			1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30

Syndicate

Style Credit

Style: Neutral Good for Practicality by timeasmymeasure

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Jun. 9th, 2025 04:55 am

if i think i can figure things out, is that curiosity or arrogance?

i don't want to use the word "genius"...

Entries tagged with i answer to: peter wiggin

Room 307, Tuesday Afternoon

Room 307, Tuesday Morning

Room 307, Tuesday Morning

Warehouse District, Thursday Morning

Warehouse District, Thursday Morning

Room 307, Thursday Evening

Room 307, Thursday Evening

Room 307, Friday Morning