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

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]]

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.]]

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.]]