Let's Talk Who: Pheme and Internet What: Pheme asked to talk, Internet entertains the request Where: Internet's NYC Penthouse When: After this Warnings: None
Joshua didn't know when Pheme would stop by, but he didn't have to worry about not being there when she arrived. He was planning on staying inside for as long as possible after the fiasco with his limo driver. Fortunately, Colin had rescued him from that and he was back at home with a comfortable strong signal. He had a mortal plugged in in the other room, running an imaginary character through an imaginary world in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3. Not yet released, it was the perfect temptation for this hard core gamer to come to New York City and sit in a stranger's house and log hundreds of hours, unknowingly feeding Internet power directly through his close worship.
The annoying part, the part that Internet forgot to calculate, was that this mortal was very vocal when he was killed in-game. The final absorption of this one into his database couldn't come soon enough. But, in the meantime, Joshua had closed off his game room to help mute the shouting and machine gun noises.
His penthouse was very modern and sterile. Mostly white except for the largest wall in the sitting area that was covered with poloroids. Joshua was nostalgic and each mortal he absorbed into his web had a face on his wall. They were vibrant, healthy, smiling. Not knowing what was to come. The background in each picture was the wall itself, building and building with each new addition. These mugshots were not made digital for a reason.
The MacBook Pro on his lap was a portal into his own web and his hand rested on the keyboard, thumb idly using the sensor pad to navigate an endless number of sites, viewed through HTML.
The doorman downstairs was told he was expecting a visitor and kept an eye out to let her up.