Ada Lovelace (64bit) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-07-17 19:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, ada lovelace, petros argyropoulos |
WHO: Ada Lovelace [JOYSTICK] and Petros Argyropoulos [AZRAEL]
WHAT: #JustOperativeThings
WHEN: BACKDATED to the morning of Tuesday, July 14, 2016
WHERE: Ada's Room
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Complete log!
As usual, Ada passed out at eleven in the morning, face down in a pile of dirty clothes and crushed soda cans. Although she spent the previous night working tirelessly to mine information from Harvard’s databases, she of course became distracted and eventually forgot the entire purpose for staying up the whole night. She snored despite the bright, blaring sun peeking through her shut blinds. The sound of thumping on the door cut through Ada's snores. "Yo, Joystick!" Petros called. He knocked a few more times for good measure, figuring she was either asleep or not in. "It's your alarm." Ada, surprisingly, began to stir, and as she opened her eyes, every single electronic device in her room switched on. “Shit,” she mumbled as she staggered towards the door, unable to pull it all the way open due to all the junk on the floor. "Good morning, sunshine," Petros greeted her, looking more smug than perhaps he should have. He'd been an Operative longer than she had, and he knew how screwy their sleep schedules could be. Inside the room, the various boot noises for Ada's devices competed with each other, creating a cacophony of sound. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Ada stared at him, expression completely blank. She scratched the back of her head and nearly tripped over her own trash. “You’re not the pizza I ordered. What are you doing here, P?” "Just checking in on how the research is coming along," he said. "You know, like you asked." The research. The research. "The research.” Ada’s confusion slowly melted away, and she motioned for him to enter. A heavily modified laptop sat on the couch where she slept, and she plopped down beside it. Yesterday’s dinner covered the remaining space. “Step into my office,” she said darkly. "It's going that well, huh?" Petros tiptoed over the scattered detritus, closing the door carefully behind him. "Harvard's no NASA," Ada shrugged. She lit a cigarette, scanned the room, and then grabbed a giant stuffed animal to place in between herself and her deadly guest. "I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean," Petros admitted. He eyed the empty ("empty") space on the sofa next to Ada for a moment, before peeling off his left glove and plucking a stray Cheeto from the seat. He crumbled the Cheeto to dust in his hand without commenting on how much the remains still looked like Cheeto. “Six names. Started with eight. Been narrowing them down, but then a double EXP event started on Maple Story,” she announced as she used her hands to open a can of Mountain Dew. Zeroes and ones scrolled wildly across her laptop screen; she didn’t have to touch it to operate it, so she stuck the soda can in Petros’ face to offer him some. “It’s the sugar free kind, so it’s super healthy.” "I'm good," Petros said, holding up a hand. He rarely drank anything but water without a straw. "Wouldn't wanna accidentally degrade any of the 'natural flavors.'" He squinted at the screen, his complete lack of understanding of what it displayed clearly stamped across his face. "You know," he admitted. "I get that the more we know, the better, but once you and Colby finish nailing down this guy's civilian identity, what do we do with it? He left that life behind." “One thing always leads to another on the internet,” she smiled. “It could get us closer to uncovering more Apex identities. Anyway, there are three names that stood out the most. Jameson Todd Richardson Jr seems to have been wiped off the face of the internet--no Facebook, no bank account, no pornography trails. There’s also Ainsley Finch-Fletchley. Family has an estate in East Hampton. He was allegedly killed in a drunk driving accident, but that could be a coverup.” She ejected small flash drive from her computer. “It’s all here,” she said, dangling it in front of him. "And the third guy?" Petros prompted. “What?” "You said there were three guys: Jameson Todd Richardson, Jr., Ainsley Finch-Fletchley, and… ?" “I don’t think that’s what I said.” Ada started booting up World of Warcraft--there was a very important guild meeting that day, and she had already missed too many. "Alright." Petros didn't sound convinced, but he didn't press. He stuck out his left hand, waiting for her to drop the flash drive into his still-uncovered palm. "I'll take a look at it later." She dropped it in his palm before reclining on the couch, the television, radio, and other electronic devices shutting off one by one. “Don’t work too hard, P.” Petros tucked the drive into his shirt pocket before pulling his glove back on. "I'll keep that in mind, Mom." Ada had already fallen back to sleep. |