detestable: (168)
i'm seth gecko, motherfucker. ([personal profile] detestable) wrote in [community profile] station722018-01-22 09:48 am

(no subject)

CHARACTERS: Darlene, Seth, Richie and an unfortunate NPC
WHERE: The Red Coast ( Barracks )
WHEN: Day :038
SUMMARY: kidnapping, other hijinks.
WARNINGS: likely some violence, will update as needed.
ophidia: (010)

[personal profile] ophidia 2018-01-27 01:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[Having the connection open between them all could be distracting, if Richard didn't have a job to focus on. The urge to dive into what they're feeling still rises, viciously curious, edged in something possessive, and definitely more than a little smug. But instead he simply moves around the table to grab the back of the kid's chair, dragging both it and its occupant out of Darlene's way.]

Nine minutes.

[A blunt reminder through their banter that the clock has started ticking, reaching up to tug his veil loose.]
nastygram: (C:\notwork)

[personal profile] nastygram 2018-01-27 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Party tricks include acting like a human stopwatch?

[Nine minutes. She steps in with a kind of draggy grace peculiar to Darlene. A sloucher. The shit on the table, she scans as she approaches, looking it over to see what's useful.

There's nothing that looks like a phone or a tablet or even a friggin' keyboard. Instead, there's this big boxy POS that looks like something off the set of a movie. Darlene has long pushed down the scarves swathed around her mouth. Leaves her frown all the more visible.]


What the hell, [she says, flatly.] You have got to be kidding me. What is this thing?

[Her fingers push along the side, seeking out some kind of on-switch. No need: as she touches it, the device gives a warm whir, a crackle. A crude keypad illuminates suddenly.]

Your boy loves his ham radio, I guess.
ophidia: (182)

[personal profile] ophidia 2018-02-04 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Someone has to keep us on track.

[Rather than getting distracted by witty banter, being the implication, but he might be feeling a little pettily offended by the idea of his skills being party tricks.]

It's not my tricks we're here for.

[There isn't a safe here for him to crack. There's tech for her to hack, and the sudden problem that's apparently presenting has him saying it more like a warning. They may only be two minutes in, but they've done enough already. They have to walk away with something.]
nastygram: (C:\FOO?)

[personal profile] nastygram 2018-02-05 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't do tricks.

[Work, not tricks. Darlene shoves aside more scarves as she leans in to get a closer look, like that's going to make much of a difference.]

This thing is straight outta the alien 70s at best. I can probably do something, but we're pretty much working analog, which means no network, and probably very little storage. Bonus: also very little security.

[That's a small bonus at best. Darlene starts punching in numbers on the keypad, watching the rest of the machine for any kind of response--a whir, a buzz, a print of paper. A machine is a machine and a button is a button and even if you're keysmashing, you can get somewhere.]

If nothing else, I say we take whatever printouts we find and do this manual. You-- [Richie, naturally] --probs can't read his mind while you're doing whatever it is you are actually doing, right.
Edited (edits for explicit sarcasm ) 2018-02-05 21:53 (UTC)