ic contact (mask or menace)

[hackitude]

"Hey! You've reached Skye. Leave a message. I mean, if you want to. Or uh, don't. Whatever."

Comments

[hackitude]

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.]

[hostage]

[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.

Right.]

...You seriously took one of those things home?

[hackitude]

[Skye shrugs.]

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.

[hostage]

[That makes him laugh.]

You're so insane. I love it.

[hackitude]

[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.

[hostage]

You're right, you're right. I would be so gone.

You probably shouldn't keep that thing in here.

[hackitude]

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.

[hostage]

I bet. Your roommates must love it.

[hackitude]

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.

[hostage]

[His eyes light up.]

Oh my god, you got a dog? Where is he?

[hackitude]

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.]

Awww, who's a good boy. Yes you are.

[hostage]

Ohhhh my godddd...

[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!

[hackitude]

I thought I'd name him after the baddest Russian revolutionary that ever lived in the hopes that he'd be like... smart and kinda bad-ass?

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.]

[hostage]

He looks like a Muppet!

[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.]

[hackitude]

[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.

[hostage]

Who's Mr. G?

[Jesse does not mind the dog slobber one bit. He's already pulling out another treat.]

[hackitude]

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?

[hostage]

[Record scratch. Jesse stops what he's doing, the smile fading from his face. He kind of doesn't even hear the second part of that, it takes so long for the first part to sink in.]

[hackitude]

... What? It's not that crazy, is it? I mean, you said yourself you thought I was smart. And I'm feeling really good about it. I've totally been studying my butt off.

[hostage]

What? No, that's - Wait, like... Alone? With him? Since when?

[Jesse's looking rather pale. A lot paler than GED tutoring warrants.]

[hackitude]

[Oh. Skye sighs. Tattlecrime at work again.]

... Since like the week after I first got here? Look. I don't know what you've heard or read about him, but you should know-- there's this reporter out there, Freddie Lounds? Who is like, hellbent on destroying his life. Literally none of the rumours she spreads are true. He's kind of a... misanthropic oddball? But he's not actually a bad guy. Trust me. I've been alone in a room with him on a weekly basis for like almost three months now. You can relax.

[hostage]

[Ha. Ha. Ha. No. Jesse shakes his head and fumbles around for his comm, which he then hands over to Skye.]

He called me. Like three weeks ago. You can find it, right?

[It shouldn't be too hard.]

[hackitude]

[Skye takes the comm from him with a frown and fumbles around in the databank for a bit.]

Uhh... you know phones don't actually keep recordings of phone conversations unless someone's bugged it, right? All I can see here is the date, length and IDs involved with the call.

[hostage]

Seriously? The government ain't bugging these things?

[What if he gives her a power boost? Does that help? He's pretty sure she won't believe him unless she hears Will Graham's freaky-ass creepy voice for herself.]

[hackitude]

I don't know... maybe? But I can't hack the government here, remember? I've tried.