So it's been about a week now, and I've lost a bit of totally unnecessary beauty sleep, but I finally think I've whipped this annoying new code enough that it's nice and malleable and in utter submission to yours truly. As far as it's concerned I'm a scantily clad goddess in tall boots. Is there anything more satisfying?

[pause for the rhetorical question, because no. No, there is not.]

And I know you're out there, fellow grey hats. My people~! Let this be my way of saying "hey baby, we should hang."

[She turns on a moderate encryption, something that anyone with decent hacking experience will easily slip by. Those with more hacking experience will find the encryption elegant and creative, for what it is. She's not after only the cream of the crop just now -- she's looking for buds, not a hack-war.]

[Voice // Encrypted at 30%]

Here we go, a nice easy one to get people in the door. If you slipped that mini-net then, Hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, blonde bombshell and supreme information goddess. I'd go into my turn-ons, but hey, enough about me.

Hit me with your name, rank, and your favorite OS, darlings.

Hearing that Reid was living in a completely different Sector than Garcia and that he hadn't been all that social, he believed Penelope had used the word 'hermit' to describe him, the pair were off from Penelope's place in Sector Four to Reid's place in Sector Two to bulldozer their way in and check on him. Derek had also used the walk to acquaint himself with the prison as best he could while he and Penelope easily quipped back and forth, commenting on both the decor and each other. Prison aside, it was perfectly normal.

But once they were at Reid's door, the light-hearted banter back and forth between himself and Penelope settled down a bit. Derek left nothing to question about who was at the door. He pounded on the door with the side of his fist three or four times and stepped back with Garcia. “Reid! Open up!” Yeah, open up Reid or Derek is kicking in the door. It's been a good, solid day or two since the last time he kicked in a door.

Nevertheless, he turns to Penelope, his eyes sparking with amusement. “If he's not here I could kick it in and we could just be waiting for him when he gets his genius back here.”



ooc: closed post for thisiscalm, unmitigated & bloodcakedarmor. Team CM is in the HOUSE!! Reid's house, specifically.

Just a curious little poll for my fellow dome dwellers, just kinda curious about something. I mean, if you've ever been to the computer lab in sector two you might've noticed the intranet set up. Not internet, of course, but it's something. Was wondering if anyone would use it more if it had some... better content? [Oh, she's thinking of a few things.]

... For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, you really need to be introduced to being online. And stat. I might even be able to hook you up sometime.


( Action; closed to Cross )

[Sometimes, a bedroom wall just isn't enough.

With Garcia arriving, Reid feels the pressing need to rearrange his notes. Parts of his notes. The parts pertaining to the nature of Marina and multi-dimensional mumbo-jumbo and all the other things he's tried to wrap his head around ever since he arrived. There's a lot of them, and his apartment is only so big and either way he wouldn't be entirely comfortable presenting this to her in such a disjointed mess of scribbles. It's not the way they do things.

And this is why he's at the library for most of the afternoon and a good chunk of the evening, straightening out hastily scribbled thought processes and following cross-references and what else there is he could be doing with this mess of paper. Feel free to bother him or spy on him or remind him that food is definitely a thing that should happen eventually, cause he won't remember!]

[An alarmed face appears on the video. Blonde hair with pink streaks, brightly colored chunky jewelry, thick-rimmed glasses. Immediately, she starts rambling.]

Okay. I'm used to weird, but this is like -- the freaking Twilight Zone. The creepy, prison-themed Twilight Zone with an embarrassingly hackable headset and no keyboard in sight, which is its own special level of hell and somewhere I'd rather not hang, capiche?

Someone please just pinch me, or do whatever it is you do to get someone to wake up from a bad dream, and preferably without any more violence than absolutely necessary, because ickiness is totally not something we need to add to the mix --

[She may not take a breath anytime soon, unless someone cares to interrupt...]