Who: Dylan / Harry Osborn What: Memories Plot Where: His apartment. Things to avoid: Nothing.
Just another morning. One of his first in the city, but Dylan was already buckling down to a day's work. Two laptops were spread out before him on the little kitchen table by the window, and he sucked down his second cup of Folgers coffee with a stifled yawn. Jet lag was a familiar curse, and Dylan stretched his back out against the uncomfortable chair before he set an elbow into the table's edge. On one screen, codes and scrambled numbers scrolled in an endless sea of black and green while he hacked. The other screen boasted emails to and from his superiors. He took another sip, wincing against the strange wave of dizziness, but suspecting nothing.