savetheearth | hello, IT. have you tried turning it off and on again?

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hello, IT. have you tried turning it off and on again? | open;

Who: Cain and YOU!
Where: Two options! A) The Locke City University IT help desk. B) A sidewalk table at a cafe during his lunch break.
When: Backdated to Friday the 9th!
What: Helping you with your computer troubles. While being a colossal douche. Or, just getting some coffee and lunch. Your call!

[OPTION A:

Cain is, for lack of a better word, bored. He's idly browsing the network via Reddit, leaning back in his chair and propping his legs up on the desk. He's got his recently-echoed weird goggles around his neck, white with a circuit design on one lens. Much as he hates his job, it'd give him something to occupy himself with if someone came in. Honestly, this is just dull. At least he has a rubik's cube to mess with.]

--

[OPTION B:

Ah, lunch break! Good. Grabbing his laptop bag and heading out down the sidewalk, knowing exactly where he intends to go--everything's going smoothly! A few blocks away from campus, he stops in at a cafe, makes his order and sits down outside. Not long after that, he has his coffee. Around his neck, still, are the weird white goggles. He doesn't seem busy, just like he's enjoying the day outside. Care to bother him?

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[You know how sometimes in life, you make gambles? Like, say, oh I don't need to do that paper I have due by two PM tomorrow right now, I can play videogames all night and then finish it in morning class before the deadline.

Now, imagine instead of a boring ass lecture like usual, you had an actual pop-quiz with an in-class essay that took just about three quarters of the class period, and now you don't have your paper done because you were up until three playing something douchey like Call of Duty. Okay no, maybe you aren't that lame, but the point is, your paper isn't done and it's like, twelve thirty-eight.

Also imagine that campus internet isn't working on your laptop for some stupid reason (because it's a piece of shit community college that doesn't care about its students, bluh bluh) and you don't have time to go all the way home and back in time for class.

Also, you faked having the plague last week so you could stay up and watch this shitty online concert one of your favourite obscure bands was putting on, and if you miss anymore class your grade will go down. It wouldn't matter anyway, because your teacher doesn't go for late submissions because she accepts emails and flash-drives and anything that will get your paper in on time. As long as it's on time. Meaning it has to be on fucking time and she has absolutely no other options.

Avery isn't feeling too smart right now, which is why she's biking full speed to the nearest cafe that has free wifi in hopes that she can magically finish a five page paper in around forty-five minutes. And then she gets there and the place is fucking packed. Because hipsters and lunchtime. She really doesn't have time for bullshit, and as much as she hates... social interaction... sitting in the corner on the floor of a cafe is a little weirder than she wants to go.

So, she sees this douche with some tacky goggles around his neck (what does he think this is, an anime? a steampunk convention? whatever) sitting alone at a table and she would rather swallow her own probably radioactive smartphone than talk to anyone, but it's like twelve forty-six now and she really doesn't have the time to deepthroat any technology. So she walks up to the goggle-douche and scuffs her ratty shoe on the ground and says:] Hey, uh. Do you mind if I sit here for a minute?

[he looks up, shrugging after a moment. whatever]

J'men calice.

[AND THERE YOU HAVE IT, HE DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT.

just sort of muttered, but his body language should show he doesn't care. he might not actually mind the company. maybe.]

[Avery doesn't speak whatever-the-fuck-he-just-said, and she doesn't really know if that's a "go ahead" mumble or a "sit down and see if I don't throw my coffee in your face" mumble, but she really needs to start working on this paper, so she drops her bag and fumbles her laptop out, placing it on the table and booting it up.

She tries very hard to pretend she isn't across the table from a stranger, and ducks behind her screen so she can open her files and start writing.]

[he looks up from his laptop, briefly, before turning back to his own work.]

Paper?

[he's seen waaaay too many of these things taken down to the wire.]

Yeah, [she mumbles, clicking rapidly.] C'mon, you goddamn thing-- uh.

Yeah. [Let's try this again.] Didn't really plan my time so well an' now I'm payin' for it. Same old shit, y'know.

Lunch off campus is always a treat. It's one of the few Thomas had been letting himself have since he began trying to fight his personality changes that came with these new memories. Naturally, this also left him very bored. It was for that reason that, as he enjoyed the sandwich he ordered, his eyes were scanning the others outside. He made little jokes to himself about maybe they were plotting to attack the Tokyo tower or perhaps inform the populace of their new alien overlords. Oh or maybe that one over there was Enter enjoying a coffee.

Anyone close enough to where Thomas sat would hear his neck crack as it turned as fast as possible to refocus on the goggle sporting individual a few tables over. With Alata running around as a delivery boy, he couldn't afford to let these kinds of things go. He was the only one who knew what kind of threat this man could be. Quickly stuffing his laptop back into his messenger back, Thomas got to his feet and strode over to Cain's table.

This was it, his first meeting with a Sentai villain. Not just any villain, but one he'd been rooting for over the Big Bad for the first portion of the season. His heart rate sped up; his palms were sweating~~, legs spaghetti~~. Sitting down, sandwich still in hand, Thomas looked to confirm the goggles didn't say 'kami' before looking Cain in the eyes. There was only one way to be sure. "Parlez-vous francais?"

Edited 2013-08-11 02:29 (UTC)

It's unusual that so many people would approach him on his lunch break. Especially one he recognized from that fucking network. Unfortunately for Akagi, he caught him in the middle of biting a bagel, and he raises a hand as if to hold him off for a moment in a way that may seem eerily familiar to the Sentai otaku. There. Mouth's clear.

Was he recognized? What the fuck is going on? The corner of his mouth twitches down, but he responds in kind.

"Oui, monsieur. Ca va?" And that hand he'd raised stays up, flourishing slightly into a little wave.

Thomas had to fight not to flinch at the hand. He was growing more and more certain every moment. While the voice helped to cement things, it seemed familiar for another reason.

"Un moment." That was just him bullshitting. He'd had to take highschool Spanish and assumed the languages were similar enough he could fake a little. "Have we met? Maybe on campus? I'm in the engineering department."

Thomas could freak out about probably meeting Enter after he was sure he hadn't already incurred his wrath.

Okay, Cain definitely raises an eyebrow at that one. What the fuck was this one playing at?

"I work at the IT desk. Perhaps you've stopped in?" He's not going to tell him off, not yet.

No worries about incurring his wrath, he's mostly just going to be a dick at him until he leaves if he doesn't start being interesting soon.

Thomas was getting impatient, mostly with himself. If he kept beating around the bush he'd never get his answers. Leaning in conspiratorially, he asked Cain a simple question. After all, if Al was part of the Numbers, then it stood to reason.

"You're one of the Numbers Club, aren't you? I hate to ask this out in the open, but if you are, I might know something about those goggles you're wearing."

Criss de calice de tabarnac d'osti de--

Whatever. He shakes his head once, blinking. None of that surge of anger at being found out made it to the surface, at least.

"And what if I am, monsieur?"

Well, Thomas is pretty sure right now. Which probably means he should bolt, but ... this is Enter. He is talking to one of the best scheming enemy lieutenants in years.

"Then I could tell you more about what you've been remembering because I remember someone who looked very much like you with those goggles."

Now that has his attention. After their talk the other day...

"I'm listening. If you would be so kind...?"

"I will." Well, this guy was certainly one of the Numbers, which meant that none of them were safe. Shit. Thomas was silent for a moment, trying to think of the best thing to say.

"The person, he looks like you, but he isn't quite. His name is Enter. He speaks french, is very tech savvy, wears an odd trench coat with digital patterns, and has an odd relationship with his ... lets say sister, named Escape."

Thomas really hated his love of Sentai right now. He wanted to say it all, to wake Enter up and meet the real him, but he was still Thomas. He wasn't that stupid, but still stupid enough that he still couldn't stop entirely. "He and Escape worked for a group called Vaglass."

Oh, he remembers now. He certainly remembers. Some of it, anyway. But it strikes him that it's probably not the best idea to clue Akagi in on that. He shakes his head, feigning an apologetic smile.

"I do apologize, but interesting as it all sounds...you seem to be mistaken. None of it rings a bell."

Edited 2013-09-10 23:20 (UTC)

Bullshit. Bull and shit. Thomas is 100% sure this is Enter and Enter would most certainly not let Thomas knew he remembered. Best to play the patsy for now.

"Really? Ah, sorry then. You wouldn't be the first person on the network I've recognized, but was apparently someone else. Maybe the 'other' you was just his actor or something. Oh well."

Thomas scoots his chair back. "I suppose I should go then?"

"If you must. I won't keep you." Cain looks back at his work and takes a bite of his bagel, waving him away.

Yeah, tech support? I need the password to my account.

((This is an actual phone call from a dorm common room somewhere, for the record.))

Edited 2013-08-11 04:22 (UTC)

[God, this is what he gets for agreeing to work the closing shift at the help desk. A glance at the clock, and a sigh. He hates questions like this.]

It should be the same as your ID number.

Oh, I changed it already. I just don't remember what I changed it to.

I can't give you the password. Change it again or use whatever hint you set up for it. Submit a lost password request if you must. Honestly...

[so many other things he could be doing right now]

It was not at all unusual for the university's psychology department to invite in a visiting lecturer. Mort had done it a few times; his practice was fairly successful and his line of self-help books made him a good candidate to speak to the psychologists and psychiatrists of tomorrow. He had acquired a new laptop since the last time he'd been on campus, and with that new laptop came a consequence he had not been expecting--the laptop would not play nice with the projector he was using for the lecture. The Powerpoint portion of the lecture was rather important, and so he had wheeled the cart containing the laptop and the projector all the way to IT himself.

He'll politely knock on the door rather than barging in unannounced, at least.

"Come in." It's not said with any particular interest, but still, there it is, Maki. When he comes in, he'll find it more or less as initially described, Cain having moved on to a slinky instead of the puzzle cube. Anyone who wasn't coming for support wouldn't have knocked--and most who did wouldn't have anyway--so he doesn't particularly care about being told off for sitting in the chairs like that.

The door opens, and Mort pushes his cart inside. He can't say he's impressed with the level of professionalism he's already witnessed, but it's not like he's got a whole lot of options here. "Ah, yes...I've got a presentation over at the psychology department in an hour, and I seem to be having trouble getting the laptop to find the projector."

Well, it's a less boring problem than he usually gets. And it's not an undergrad! Bonus. Cain stands up, stepping over to the cart and leaning in slightly. Just going to pull the laptop up and hold it in one hand, moving through the menus. "I'm about to see for myself, but have you checked the device manager? Basic, I realize, but an obvious question..."

Hey, Mort, remember those goggles that guy showed you on the network the other day? Well...

Edited 2013-08-30 02:57 (UTC)

"Yes, but it would never actually show up in the Device Manager." Mort shrugged. This really wasn't his forte, and the graduate assistant that usually helped him with such things had been absolutely baffled by the projector's continued stubbornness in refusing to connect.

He had been looking down at the computer there, frowning a bit, and when he looked back at Cain, there was a very slight reaction at the sight of those goggles. A hint of recognition, as it were. He'd seen those before, and they were distinctive enough that he doubted he'd see them anywhere else.

"Hm. You seem to be right..." Cain turns the laptop over a bit, removing the USB plug and hooking it back in. No sound when it happened. Hm.

He places the laptop back down, examining the back of the projector. Good, he was fairly certain he had some cables matching that.

"My best guess is that it's an issue with the cable - a simple fix. And..." His mouth quirks down a little when he sees Mort's look. "Yes?"

"Ah...it's nothing." Mort knew he had to be careful; a psychiatrist couldn't afford to go around babbling about crazy networks and numbers to just anyone, after all. "It's just that those goggles of yours are quite distinctive. I believe I saw a pair just like them on a forum post once."

Hey, there was something to be said for honesty, even if he was trying to be subtle about it.

His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, just for a split second. Ah.

"I'm quite sorry, but I'm afraid I wouldn't know anything about that. I believe there is a small-scale maker who produces them? They were a gift, so I can't be certain."

Yeah, he's not going to let on here. Why tip his hand?

Perhaps this man was not the same one he had spoken with on the network, then. "Ah. That's a pity. My niece was rather hoping to acquire a pair for her birthday." And with that, Mort hoped he'd smoothed over any suspicion his asking might have aroused. Those who were already on the network would know him anyway, as often as he was willing to post that they could come to him for counseling.

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hello, IT. have you tried turning it off and on again? | open;

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A, Friday Night

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