Hacking History and Other Wish-List Items

[Molly Quincannon] [[For my personal edification: Int + Comp, Analysis speciality - how's Molly's work-from-home work day going?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Ellie James] [[well... looks like it could've gone better...]]

[Molly Quincannon] As far as such things go, it is a more or less average day at the former auto repair garage referred to by its current owner as 'Fort Q'. Molly's a work-from-home kind of girl, though she seldom finds it necessary to put in eight full hours to do a full day's workload - this works out well, generally speaking, as it means she has more afternoon and evening free than she might. Today, she's finishing up a couple of different bits and bobs and grumbling. Eventually, though, there's a sigh, a few mouse clicks, and then she shoves herself away from her computer, frowning at the screen as if the data that formerly showed on it offends her in some way. "Gibbons," she grumbles, wrinkling her nose. "I work with gibbons. Maybe 'for' gibbons. Both. Yeah. Ah well. It's a living. Help!" This directed at Ellie, wherever in the common area (in which the girl's screened-off bedroom area resides along with the ubiquitous computers, the dining table, the comfy seating and the muchly-homebrew TV). "My brain, she is melted!"

For the edification of the outside observer, Fort Q has picked up a non-Ellie new resident; a second ferret, this one named Hardison. This one's smaller and more active than Neal, and is currently rattling around the Habitrail tubes overhead at great speed while Neal snoozes in a pet hammock over in the playpen area. Between humming computers and active rodents, it's never entirely silent over at Fort Q.

[Ellie James] Having been curled up in a beanbag and watching Hardison rather than reading her book, Ellie was all too ready to go... harass her housemate/landlady.

"Hard to melt what's been on a leave of absence, isn't it?"

Much cleaner, relaxed and without the steady presence of her backpack, the teen leaned on the back of Molly's computer chair and peered over her shoulder. "One of these days you're going to have to tell him that unless he can do your job, he should hush... not that I actually know what you're doing."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly gives Ellie a mock-wounded look. "Are you suggesting that I might not entirely have my mind on my work? Heaven forfend!" Then she tuts and gives the screen another glare. "I've been debugging some email encryption code designed by one of my not-so-esteemed co-workers. I swear the man has no clue. I could drive a semi through some of the loopholes he left in this encryption. Hell, Nat could hack this, and she still hasn't even entirely got the hang of Trillian yet! Gah," she sighs, reaching down to one of her mini-fridges. "At least it's not as bad as the total yahoos who run our servers. I swear, every other weekend I'm down there pulling bad wiring and replacing fried drives. One of them left a burrito in the server case, I shit you not. Melted cheese and refried bean everywhere. Oh, want something to drink? I require Jolt. Badly."

With a can of that and whatever Ellie favours, she asks, "So what're you up to, anyway?" Rattle-rattle-*chittersqueak* from above. "...Besides watching Hardison spaz?"

[Ellie James] Ellie started to laugh, and then paused. "Wait, a burrito? They wasted a perfectly good burrito on something that couldn't even enjoy it? Or was it one of those overpriced 'Taco Bueno' burritos that's more tortilla than filling?" She stood back to let Molly fetch her poison of choice, and accepted her Pepsi with what could almost be a purr.

"Well, I was trying to read one of the herbology books I found at the library, but it's really hard not to get distracted by Hardison. Are you sure you should've named him that? I mean, it's better than Parker, but not by much."

[Molly Quincannon] "Hey, you've seen the show." And Ellie would have; Molly's a fan in a fairly serious way; has all three and a half current seasons on her mega entertainment server, and is counting the days until the season-break is over and episodes start up again. "Parker's got spaz moments but she's nowhere near that hyper. But you've seen Hardison when he gets on a project, with the adorable technobabble and the flailing and the 'I've hacked history, people! I've hacked history!' ...Now I wanna hack history," she muses, ever so slightly distracted. Then she shakes her head and gets back on topic. "Anyway, given that ... yes. Yes, Hardison is the perfect name."

Then she wrinkles her nose. "It was one of those microwave burritos, actually. I think he was trying to heat the thing up in there - you know how hot computers get if you don't actually have a cooling system running worth a dam. Or ... well, if you didn't, you do now. Anyway, so he disengaged my cooling system, stuck his stupid burrito in there to heat, and then forgot about it. So the cheese melted and the burrito half-exploded and the server fried and I spent a perfectly good Sunday fixing the mess. Which was why the request for Mexican food you texted me that afternoon got the text-message reply of 'OHELLNO!', by the way. Sorry about that."

Then she squints over at the herbalism book Ellie's got in her hands. "Huh. With the nifty. Anything interesting and funky-cool tidbit-wise to share, or just too distracted by a Hardison who is never getting his equivalent of gummy frogs again? Oooh. I think I have gummy frogs, actually."

[Ellie James] "Honey, even if I didn't want to have seen it, it's hard to avoid when you're mainlining it. Besides, Parker is absolutely my hero." She laughed as Molly did an impression of one of Hardison's funnier moments. "I'm pretty sure that given reason, you could hack history."

With the description of the burrito, Ellie made a disgusted face of her own. "Ewww... man, that's like eating truckstop food. And yes, I did know about the heat-sink problem. I used to keep a little paper cup of coffee warm by putting it next to one of the fans when I'd log on at libraries. I don't know that I'd try to cook on one, though." Now that she's got the explanation about the text, she can laugh - at the time, she'd been rather confused. "Oh, good. I was worried you were saying no due to possible gas contamination or something."

She glanced down at her book, and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm hoping for nifty, but I didn't even get through the introduction before spazzoid up there distracted me... you have gummy frogs? Share?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly grins at the compliment but says, "Well, for the now, my actual non-tech crafty know-how is for shit. The cooking seems to be going okay, but I dread the day I try to do something really warped like take up knitting or carpentry. Though actually, the carpentry would probably be easier. I mean, how much different can it be from some of the tech stuff I build? At least soldering irons aren't involved. Anyway, there is nothing wrong with truckstop food, depending on the truckstop. There are some really awesome ones around the Gulf Coast, and this really awesome place in San Bruno that's like ... Denny's without the weird names for its breakfast specials. I mean, I'm okay with Denny's where most people aren't, but that's because there's no place that does an actual decent avocado cheeseburger and a killer cup of coffee at 3am, and sometimes you just need greasy food and coffee at 3am. And I've never had the facilities to cook that stuff before, so..." She shrugs, sips her Jolt and then starts rummaging in a drawer.

Coming up with a Zip-Loc bag and a big bag of gummy frogs, she adds, "Well, spazzoid is probably due a nap one of these millennia. I hope. So hopefully you'll get to nifty soon. And you know you can surf the net for any herblore or whatever if you've got a need to. It's not like I don't have enough computer over here." She transfers three big handfuls of gummy frogs to the Zip-Loc bag, zips it up and then tosses it Ellie-wards. "Oh, I have gossip and I have news relating to your eye-dee, and I have a surprise. Which do you want first?"

[Ellie James] "Okay, so Midwest truckstop food sucks. Unless it's got one of those built-in restaurants. But the hotdogs and stuff? Dangerous. There are things even I wouldn't eat. Not much, but still... ooooooh" Predictable reaction to receiving a baggie of gummy snacks. She selected one at random, and started nibbling on a leg.

"Oh, I know he'll nap eventually. Sugar-crashes are like that. And I might try the computer thing once I've gone through some of the books. Harder to trust some of what's online, what with that New Age kick some people are all over. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but some of them have spent a little too much time with the incense." She finished off her frog, and grinned. "Gossip, then ID, then surprise? Wait, it's a good surprise, right?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly wrinkles her nose. "Oooooh, you mean gas station convenience store food. You mean Circle-K food! Yeah, that's death on a stick. As to the online stuff, I know people. People who get online and know their herbs from a hole in a wall. You might actually find something more useful than Sleeper ravings, s'all I'm saying. Anyway, yes, it's a good surprise, and so it shall be saved for last. First bit first - the gossip. Yeah, you know Isabel, the whole apprentice bit? Well, now she's kind of apprenticing me. In the gentle art of not dressing like a spaz or I don't even know. And by contrast, I have talked that well-groomed, well-coiffed, semi-prissy girlie into getting a tattoo. I'm kind of proud of me for that one. Also there's a Halloween party, I think I mentioned but ... oh great Google, your email address is in my directory so you probably got the invite anyway, didn't you?"

(Ellie did. It was sparkly and blingy. And also advertised that Halloween is also Molly's birthday.)

[Ellie James] "Well, with your help, yeah. Couldn't be sure I'd find the non-Sleeper stuff on my own." She gawped at Molly when she said she'd convinced Miss Pris to get an actual tattoo. "A real tattoo?! Like ink and everything, not something from a grocery store coin machine? And what's wrong with the way you dress?"

She laughed, remembering the brightly colored, glittery invite. "I did get it, and nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I never would've guessed you for the glittery thing. But how come I didn't know already that Halloween was your birthday? Not that I really have any idea what to get you... and I'm not sure we're ready for me to try and bake a cake yet...."

[Molly Quincannon] "The glittery thing was not me! That was Isabel!" Molly just looks amused. "Apparently she's known for it. There's a hard copy one up on the Chantry freakin' bulletin board. I told her she could organise the whole party shebang just to get her in touch with the community a bit more and it was sparkly invites and there's going to be her in most of Saturday morning putting up decorations and don't worry about cake because the lunatic woman called a caterer. Sometimes she scares me a little." Though Molly's still grinning, so clearly the fear is not truly serious. "And yes, a real tat; we're thinking little butterfly at the small of her back. Something that's discreet and tasteful and she gets the 'rite of passage' deal that tats tend to be at the same time. So it's all go and I'm going to introduce her to my inker soon. That'll be a hoot and a half."

Then she wrinkles her nose. "And you didn't know that Halloween was my birthday because I got out of the habit of making a big deal out of it. I spent a year in Des Moines with a crew that tended to live in the 'a week ago last Tuesday' more than they did in the now, and a couple of years before that on my own; got out of the habit. Anyway, you don't have to make a big deal; I did tell her to low-key the birthday thing but she just wouldn't listen. Ah well. Anyway. Now you know. I'm a Halloween baby."

Then she grins. "Anyway, eye-dee. Birth certificate took some digging, but a copy of your actual one is on its way for if you ever need it, along with one for a Elaine Jameson, age nineteen. Also a US passport. Figured I'd save the driver's licence for another time, when I know you can drive. I can start teaching you, if you want."

[Ellie James] "..." Ellie shook her head mutely. "Lord and Lady, you poor thing." She smiled a little. "The caterer idea is scary... but do you really think she should get a tramp stamp? Why not up a little higher, below the neckline of her shirt, say?" She got distracted from the tattoo question by the mention of the birthday thing.

"Well, it certainly explains you fairly well, doesn't it? But I get the low-key thing. Birthdays were never a big deal in fostercare." She perked up again, quickly enough, though, at the mention of her ID. "Woot! You worked really fast! I mean, I figured it'd be more than a month before I heard anything more about it, and you've already got certs and a passport? Sweet."

She scuffed her toe on the ground for a moment. "I can drive. Kind of. Can't park too well, but I can drive. I'd appreciate proper lessons, though."

[Molly Quincannon] "Everything's accessible when you know where to look," says Molly, with a sly grin. "And a little self-generated luck never hurt. It'll take about a week to get here, but my peeps, they work fast. And now I know when your birthday is, too. We're even. Hee."

Then she shrugs. "As to the tramp stamp ... hey, she could use a little bad in her bad-girl bank, and given that she tends to go to those black-tie dos that need dresses with plunging necklines? Let's stick with something she can hide a little more easily. Not to mention show off when it's bikini season."

Swig of cola, munch of gummy frog, and then, "Yes, we can definitely do driving lessons. And on the vague subject of Isabel-planned parties, birthdays and things ... the surprise. 'Scuse me for a second." With that, she gets up, steps over to her bedroom/workshop combo area in the next 'room' (formerly the actual repair garage) and comes back with a big, flattish box, which she sets down on the loveseat next to Ellie's beanbag. "Ta-da!"

[Ellie James] Ellie blinked slowly at the semi-terrible idea of Molly knowing when her birthday was. "Please, just please don't let Miss Pris plan anything for my birthday!" The idea is even more distressing than the thought of how glittery poor Molly's birthday bash might be. After a moment she collects herself. "Urr... anyway, I guess you have a point about the tramp-stamp. Though are you sure she even knows what a bikini is?"

She's a little cautious about the idea of a surprise for her being related to Isabel-planned parties in general, but she's game enough to head towards her beanbag of choice. And her face lights up at the sight of a box just for her. Simple pleasures and all. "You know you don't have to do things like this, right?" Not that it stops her from squirming in her seat just a little at the idea of getting something.

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, she knows what a bikini is. Tramp stamp, she has no idea, but I won't enlighten her - or let her plan your party - if you don't, how's that?"

With that, and a little smile, she says, "I know. But it's a Halloween party, and you've gotta have a costume. So ... here you go!"

The dress is sheer pale blue silk on top and sleeves, with a satin bodice-corset sort of deal overtop and a purple-and-grey velvet skirt reaching nearly to the floor. Deep grey ballet-slipper-style shoes sit in the bottom of the box. While Ellie's examining that, Molly pulls out a staff - sturdy foam carved and painted to look like a piece of gnarled wood - from under her desk. "It's a Dragon Age mage-apprentice's robes. With Nat dressing in rogue armour and me as Morrigan, I thought it'd be fun."

[Ellie James] The expression on Ellie's face at the sight of the dress in the box very closely resembled the look someone might have worn had they just been hit in the back of the head with a 2x4. She looked up at Molly, stunned look still on her face. "It's beautiful!" After petting the satin and silk fabric, she very carefully set the box down and launched herself at Molly for a hug. "Thank you!"

[Molly Quincannon] "OOF!" Molly hugs back, of course, chuckling as only one pleased with the reaction to their surprise can. "You're welcome. I'm pretty sure I got the size right, but if you want to try it on, feel free. And then, I guess you'll probably have to change back for the whole dinner prep thing - I was thinking of breaking out the Mexican as it's been nearly a week since the burrito incident and I think I'm over the trauma now. But I'm sticking you on the chopping duty so you'd best not be wearing anything you don't mind getting grubby, hmm?"

So there is cooing over the dress (which fits, and wonderfully so - it may well have been custom-made, but Molly'd never tell) and then further bonding, gossip and occasional mess over the preparation of a goodly-sized Mexican feast.

...And probably mopping salsa off the kitchen ceiling owing to an accident with the blender that Molly decided to 'tweak and improve' in a fit of boredom two days ago, but that's another story entirely.