Network for Winterdale

January 2022

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Posts Tagged: 'private+less+some+fool+wants+to+hack+it'

Feb. 23rd, 2021


[info]primowebslinger
[info]winternet

[info]primowebslinger
[info]winternet

[PRIVATE]


[info]primowebslinger
[info]winternet
A screen fizzles into view, a pale, meek and tired looking teen coming to life there in front of twin bunkbeds and a series of scientific and graffiti related posters, appearing apprehensive.

"Alright then....journal entry...uh--" He glances wearily, squinting at the corner of the screen, "...five hundred and forty two. Still....still no suspicious activity with Bec." There was lines of anxious, paranoid frustration, a hand weaving through a mop of tussled brown hair as the teen strained through a smile, "Starting to think uh---starting to think maybe....maybe he was telling the truth actually." The boy's tone goes up an octave, something worn and nervous threading his voice. "Which is--great. You know. Really...fantastic." He rubs his face then as if to force himself awake, grunting, "On the bright side, Mr. Stark and I have been working on some projects together. My grades are great, obviously. Miles is...still telling me to stop...you know, observing Bec." He paused, biting on his lip, some frustration present as the teen looked off, "Who...is basically still just being a teacher. And...not doing anything nefarious as far as I can tell." A further pause, "Uh, EDITH?"

"Yes, Peter?" A voice chirps offscreen, soft and encouraging.

"Can...like, can you go through the tapped audio files again? And...footage and everything? Just to double check..."

"Of course, Peter. But I should tell you this is the twentieth time you've asked me th-"

"Look--look, I know, and...it's been five months so..." Frustration bit at him, harder now. "Yeah. I know." He looked out, brows pinched together, sighing and leaning back, collapsing against the computer chair there, which sank and spun softly. "I...really don't know what to think, EDITH. What am I supposed to think? After everything...is he just...is he just--" He cut off his words, some huffed gesture of flying hands articulating something he couldn't, chewing at his lip. "First he's telling me he's sorry...next he's going out with Mr. Stark and...being...nice and--helpful?" Again he growls, scrubbing at his face, "What am I supposed to do with that...?" Conflict warred there, briefly the boy looking too old, too mature for his age. And too something else flashing there - something a bit more grief filled, even some vague sense of shredded hope. "Maybe...he really is...not a good guy, but...not bad. Not like he was in my world." He paused, falling silent.

"If I may, maybe you should get some sleep, Peter...it's getting late." Came that same calm and easy female voice to interrupt the tension there.

He leaned back, grunting and rubbing a palm at his eye. "Mmmm. Yeah...yeah, you're probab'y right...plus...me and Miles do have that lego dome to build in the morning." A wide yawn interrupted further talk, hands stretched into the air. "Alright...alright...okay. Thanks EDITH."

"Goodnight, Peter."

The screen goes black.