That's the thing. I keep trying, but-- nothing. And I mean, I'm not just good-- I'm the best. With the powers I've got here, I can hack into stuff just by thinking about it. And yet I can't crack a single government-related operation.
Ugh. It's so frustrating. There's no way there isn't something shady going on there-- I know there is. I just have to find it. In the meantime, I'm just... stuck in an office. Writing code for a guy who could probably build a robot that does my job for me.
And don't even get me started on this whole "registered hero" business. What have they really had us do? Attend fairs to show off our powers? They're just trying to get us to help them wave their dick to other countries.
[Jesse glances up at her. He's glad she feels that way, though it'll probably get her into a hell of a lot of trouble someday. He reaches for her hand and laces his fingers through hers.]
Careful with that. Working for Stark... He's in their bed, you know?
I know that. But-- whatever people think of Tony Stark, he's... not a bad guy, ultimately. Sure he's a rich one-percenter, but he's also like a for-real hero. If I had proof that the government was shady, or if there was mind-control involved, there's no way he'd just sit by and let that happen.
And if I'm wrong, then... I guess that's where my partnership with him ends. But I don't think I am.
You're the pro here. You probably know better than me. It's just... I wouldn't say anything to him 'til I was a hundred percent sure. 'cause he's an awesome guy, yeah, but he knows who's paying him. Ain't nothing makes a guy like that richer than somebody else fighting a war with his toys.
I know that-- I'm not stupid. I know how this works.
And he's not making weapons anymore, for the record. Most of his tech is focused now on stuff that helps other people-- clean energy, tech that can assist the disabled, stuff like that. He actually got really mad at me when I asked him to help me fix that robot bear I dragged out of the arena.
[Oh yeah, that was a thing. Skye totally came home with a giant robot bear from the Summer Games and it got immediately confiscated by the government. They gave it back to her almost a month later, stripped of anything and everything that made it lethal. So much for having an attack-bear to guard her.]
[Oh, yes, Tony Stark giving up weapons manufacturing so that he can help people. It's like how Jesse Pinkman gave up meth manufacturing to work with children.
Why not? It had software in it. Once I got close enough to touch it, changing its' programming was a piece of cake. I thought it would be cool to have an attack bear.
[Skye laughs too.] What? What's so insane about that? Better than a gun. Dude sees a giant metal bear charging at him, that dude is not sticking around. Trust me.
No worries. It sleeps in the living room. Since Tony wouldn't fix it for me, I bullied him into giving me engineering lessons every Monday night. I probably won't have the know-how to fix it for like another two years at this rate but until then, it makes a great conversation piece.
Well one of my housemates is an actual robot himself, and another one is one of the Ren-Faire kids who loves geeking out about technology since he has none in his own world, and the other two I barely see, so... actually all things considered, it's gone down pretty well.
I did adopt a dog while you were away though. That went down... less well.
Sleeping in Armin's room. Traitor likes him better than me. And he didn't make a sound when you were throwing rocks on the window. Talk about useless as a guard dog.
[Skye leans over Jesse then to her bedside table and grabs a box of dog treats out from the middle drawer before straightening up and making a kissy noise and shaking the box.]
Hey Trotsky.
[The smell of treats combined with his name does the trick. Ten or so seconds later, something that looks nothing so much as like a small, furry mop comes trotting into the room. He's sort of in that awkward stage between "puppy" and "full-grown dog." Skye pats the bed beside her and he jumps up immediately, tail wagging and tongue lolling. Seeing Jesse, he proceeds to immediately get all up in his business, sniffing and whuffling softly.]
[Which is a good thing, apparently, because Jesse can't stop kissing the top of Trotsky's head. He reaches for the treats and holds one out to the puppy.]
[After a cursory sniff, Trotsky is perfectly happy to lick that right out of Jesse's hand, thank you very much. Hope you like dog slobber.]
Pretty much. I should've named him Oscar. Or Rowlf. Mr. G suggested Bruiser, which I objected to on the basis that I don't think this guy could give a bruise to a fish.
Oh. Mr. G-- his name's actually Will. Will Graham. I started calling him Mr. G just to tease him but it kinda stuck. He's this old crotchety dude who doesn't like people, but he's also like this genius criminal profiler who works for the FBI. And he likes me. So he's tutoring me so I can get my GED here.
And-- before you start, I know it doesn't count for anything here or back home, and I've got a job already, but. I kinda just wanna do it to prove that I can, you know?
no subject
no subject
no subject
And don't even get me started on this whole "registered hero" business. What have they really had us do? Attend fairs to show off our powers? They're just trying to get us to help them wave their dick to other countries.
no subject
[He turns his hand over to look at the tattoo on his wrist.]
They probably got mind control shit in here, too. Someday they'll flip the switch and that's it.
no subject
I will burn them to the ground before I ever see that happen.
no subject
Careful with that. Working for Stark... He's in their bed, you know?
no subject
And if I'm wrong, then... I guess that's where my partnership with him ends. But I don't think I am.
no subject
no subject
And he's not making weapons anymore, for the record. Most of his tech is focused now on stuff that helps other people-- clean energy, tech that can assist the disabled, stuff like that. He actually got really mad at me when I asked him to help me fix that robot bear I dragged out of the arena.
[Oh yeah, that was a thing. Skye totally came home with a giant robot bear from the Summer Games and it got immediately confiscated by the government. They gave it back to her almost a month later, stripped of anything and everything that made it lethal. So much for having an attack-bear to guard her.]
no subject
Right.]
...You seriously took one of those things home?
no subject
Why not? It had software in it. Once I got close enough to touch it, changing its' programming was a piece of cake. I thought it would be cool to have an attack bear.
no subject
You're so insane. I love it.
no subject
no subject
You probably shouldn't keep that thing in here.
no subject
no subject
no subject
I did adopt a dog while you were away though. That went down... less well.
no subject
Oh my god, you got a dog? Where is he?
no subject
[Skye leans over Jesse then to her bedside table and grabs a box of dog treats out from the middle drawer before straightening up and making a kissy noise and shaking the box.]
Hey Trotsky.
[The smell of treats combined with his name does the trick. Ten or so seconds later, something that looks nothing so much as like a small, furry mop comes trotting into the room. He's sort of in that awkward stage between "puppy" and "full-grown dog." Skye pats the bed beside her and he jumps up immediately, tail wagging and tongue lolling. Seeing Jesse, he proceeds to immediately get all up in his business, sniffing and whuffling softly.]
Awww, who's a good boy. Yes you are.
no subject
[The second the puppy approaches him, Jesse's already wrapping his arms around it for a hug and scritches.]
Hey, Trotsky! Hello! You're such a good boy! Look at you with all this floofy hair!
no subject
Instead I just got a giant, stupid ball of fluff.
[Her voice is very fond as she says it, though, and she hands the box of dog treats over to Jesse.]
no subject
[Which is a good thing, apparently, because Jesse can't stop kissing the top of Trotsky's head. He reaches for the treats and holds one out to the puppy.]
no subject
Pretty much. I should've named him Oscar. Or Rowlf. Mr. G suggested Bruiser, which I objected to on the basis that I don't think this guy could give a bruise to a fish.
no subject
[Jesse does not mind the dog slobber one bit. He's already pulling out another treat.]
no subject
And-- before you start, I know it doesn't count for anything here or back home, and I've got a job already, but. I kinda just wanna do it to prove that I can, you know?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)