"I'm not...geez...a jar??"
Though amused at first, Fate actually huffed a little at the response by the time she'd gotten to the end of her rant. He'd known she'd be irritated by the corrective aftermath and picking on his words was what he'd looked forward to but...HE WASN'T OLD. Damn it. So what if he watched a lot of poorly preserved films and had crammed his brain with so much trivia alongside his knowledge that it couldn't help but slip out?
And Sascha's familiar tinkling laugh, followed by, "Oh no, Kreska. If you laughed even once...it's faaar too late to shut him up now," did not help.
He hunched in his chair and almost immediately straightened, because feeling like a petulant toddler was too far in the opposite direction of 'old'. There was no need to get testy and there were far more important things to worry about, he reasoned. He was the one who started it with the word-changing. And it was Kreska, besides; every conversation they'd had in the time he'd known her--literally what, an hour? Two? And just today, besides--had been full of the same snark.
He enjoyed the dickens out of it--except when she called him old.
Fate blew out a breath and stuck out his tongue. Then he sent a selfie.
Sort of.
Instead of his face and body sitting in the chair was instead a giant pickling jar filled with gray matter. Everything else was the same including the chair and the location of the cables--he couldn't be bothered to cut around all those wires in the short span it would even be on her screen.
>>Actually, doll, I'm a brain in a jar from the 1920's.
>>Right down to the booze smuggling.
The image would vanish from her tablet just as handily as it had appeared. He hadn't been cautious with it in the first place, too hung up on 'old' to do the usual metadata scrub. Unlike the texts sent, an image had a lot more to secure. There was nothing good that could come out of leaving an unencrypted image out there for anyone to glean. Anyone, of course, being wetwire freaks, hackers, and literal brain-in-a-jar, strapped-to-a-couch types--and anyone else with tech on tap who was interested in Kreska Ido.
>>Seriously.
>>How do you come up with these scenarios?
>>You just pull random ones out of one of your rats' top hats and jam them together?
>>Explains a lot if you do.
>>Given rats eat paper.
>>So probably chew off some letters.
There was a pause as he abandoned a query that seemed to spiral out into an intriguing void on his datapad and got his bots into place and heading toward Osiris' underbelly with a single blink of his augmented eye, then:
>>I could put little gold caps on their teeth for you.
---
It was good that at least one of them wasn't worried. Drek and fire waited outside that door and Sascha suspected she and Fate had enough anxiety to spare. It was good, too, that Kreska didn't have anywhere to go but here--good for hand reasons, she suspected as well--because neither of them was leaving until the hunters gave up...and most of those hunters were on a payroll.
Across the room, Kreska's pad lit up.
>>I see all.
>>Also no rash is a good rash.
>>Maybe if you trade clothes with Sass you can get closer though.
>>Kinky body suit, yes?
>>I won't peek.
>>Promise.
"Cards, yes," she began with no small amount of hesitation. Kreska knew Fate, and he'd cleared them to talk so she must have been okay for more specific details. Otherwise she'd have gotten a warning. "I piss off corporate all the time."
She glanced at her wrist, caught a quick text from Fate, and snorted.
>>Sass, I've done something horrible.
>>Don't let her cut the pad off, I need it to triangulate.
Shaking her head in disbelief she cleared the words from her screen. Triangulate what??
"I'm a data thief. Not hard-wired, mind you." She shuddered slightly, then gestured to the band around her wrist. "My keys to the kingdom. Do a bit of temporary sliding into the network and pulling out the bad bits they don't want people to know. Sometimes they don't want the dirty truth out bad enough that...well." A rueful glance toward the door they'd come through.
>>How, K-girl? You want to know how?
>>You'll see.
>>...Oh.
>>...I did make you mad.
>>...I'm sorry. :3
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing or also the lingerie?
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing?
"Data thieving means a lot of running. Can't run in a ballgown." Sascha shrugged. "Not too good for fitting into air and cleaning ducts, either. Though if he brought a hoop dress, all that wire'd be good for something..."
Though amused at first, Fate actually huffed a little at the response by the time she'd gotten to the end of her rant. He'd known she'd be irritated by the corrective aftermath and picking on his words was what he'd looked forward to but...HE WASN'T OLD. Damn it. So what if he watched a lot of poorly preserved films and had crammed his brain with so much trivia alongside his knowledge that it couldn't help but slip out?
And Sascha's familiar tinkling laugh, followed by, "Oh no, Kreska. If you laughed even once...it's faaar too late to shut him up now," did not help.
He hunched in his chair and almost immediately straightened, because feeling like a petulant toddler was too far in the opposite direction of 'old'. There was no need to get testy and there were far more important things to worry about, he reasoned. He was the one who started it with the word-changing. And it was Kreska, besides; every conversation they'd had in the time he'd known her--literally what, an hour? Two? And just today, besides--had been full of the same snark.
He enjoyed the dickens out of it--except when she called him old.
Fate blew out a breath and stuck out his tongue. Then he sent a selfie.
Sort of.
Instead of his face and body sitting in the chair was instead a giant pickling jar filled with gray matter. Everything else was the same including the chair and the location of the cables--he couldn't be bothered to cut around all those wires in the short span it would even be on her screen.
>>Actually, doll, I'm a brain in a jar from the 1920's.
>>Right down to the booze smuggling.
The image would vanish from her tablet just as handily as it had appeared. He hadn't been cautious with it in the first place, too hung up on 'old' to do the usual metadata scrub. Unlike the texts sent, an image had a lot more to secure. There was nothing good that could come out of leaving an unencrypted image out there for anyone to glean. Anyone, of course, being wetwire freaks, hackers, and literal brain-in-a-jar, strapped-to-a-couch types--and anyone else with tech on tap who was interested in Kreska Ido.
>>Seriously.
>>How do you come up with these scenarios?
>>You just pull random ones out of one of your rats' top hats and jam them together?
>>Explains a lot if you do.
>>Given rats eat paper.
>>So probably chew off some letters.
There was a pause as he abandoned a query that seemed to spiral out into an intriguing void on his datapad and got his bots into place and heading toward Osiris' underbelly with a single blink of his augmented eye, then:
>>I could put little gold caps on their teeth for you.
---
It was good that at least one of them wasn't worried. Drek and fire waited outside that door and Sascha suspected she and Fate had enough anxiety to spare. It was good, too, that Kreska didn't have anywhere to go but here--good for hand reasons, she suspected as well--because neither of them was leaving until the hunters gave up...and most of those hunters were on a payroll.
Across the room, Kreska's pad lit up.
>>I see all.
>>Also no rash is a good rash.
>>Maybe if you trade clothes with Sass you can get closer though.
>>Kinky body suit, yes?
>>I won't peek.
>>Promise.
"Cards, yes," she began with no small amount of hesitation. Kreska knew Fate, and he'd cleared them to talk so she must have been okay for more specific details. Otherwise she'd have gotten a warning. "I piss off corporate all the time."
She glanced at her wrist, caught a quick text from Fate, and snorted.
>>Sass, I've done something horrible.
>>Don't let her cut the pad off, I need it to triangulate.
Shaking her head in disbelief she cleared the words from her screen. Triangulate what??
"I'm a data thief. Not hard-wired, mind you." She shuddered slightly, then gestured to the band around her wrist. "My keys to the kingdom. Do a bit of temporary sliding into the network and pulling out the bad bits they don't want people to know. Sometimes they don't want the dirty truth out bad enough that...well." A rueful glance toward the door they'd come through.
>>How, K-girl? You want to know how?
>>You'll see.
>>...Oh.
>>...I did make you mad.
>>...I'm sorry. :3
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing or also the lingerie?
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing?
"Data thieving means a lot of running. Can't run in a ballgown." Sascha shrugged. "Not too good for fitting into air and cleaning ducts, either. Though if he brought a hoop dress, all that wire'd be good for something..."
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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