The name is Charlie. I'm 24 years old and a bit of a computer genius. Not really by choice. Funny how that works, huh? (Read the About and AU's page's, please. I track caughtinthewifi.)
"I’d like to see that, although I think Skye may be more interested… actually, probably best you don’t show her any hacking things. She’s already in enough trouble." Fitz says, as he saves the designs. He figures he can at least look into it, because he has a feeling the hypothetical isn’t as hypothetical as she claims.
"Really? Well, I’m not that great of a teacher anyways so don’t you worry, I wont be teaching Skye any of my techniques!" Charlie scratched her arm nervously as she glanced around the room a bit. "What did she do to get in all that trouble anyways."
It was hard to tell over the phone, but now that he suspected he could hear what might be sighs of inebriation, though he was inclined to write off anything which caused harm to Freddie Lounds as long as no one was seriously injured. Charlie sounded more or less all right.
The compliment served to confirm his suspicions, but he grinned despite himself.
"Well, the sooner I get back to work the sooner I can spring you. If I get done soon enough I’ll bake a file into a trout for you."
"Wait what?" she asked confused for the moment. Charlie shook her head though. "Okay, well, I’ll see you later then!" she smiled and hung up on him, heading back to her spot in the cell with Donna.
"It’s OK. That sounds awful," he said softly. And he felt it, what she meant and he thought she meant it from experience. She would tell him if and when she felt like it.
"The necessity of being immobilized is- it’s like giving up by inches. Another dull clunk as the car goes up the roller coaster. If I don’t tie myself up before bed, my body will take off without me," he ran a hand over his face.
"I just don’t want you to end up hurt by accident." she sighed, not sure what else to do for him. Charlie bit her lip in solid despair now. "I just… don’t know what to do. I don’t want you to feel that way but I don’t want you to end up falling off a roof at night. Have you tried locks?"
Hey okay so I kind of wanted to apologize to you. I owe you one.
I realize nothing I was saying was coming across correctly and some of it was just downright wrong.
I did change my tune partway through because you did change my mind and it just kind of seamlessly happened that I didn’t realize it until after I posted that dumb thing.
I also wanted to say that just because I don’t understand a type of oppression doesn’t mean it’s not oppressing. I personally didn’t see it that way (I still don’t for that situation.) but I do understand that even if I don’t get it it’s still oppressing to you.
I was kind of a little shit the other day (Maybe a big one) and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I was bitchy and defensive (Though you were calling me names I had no right getting that upset). And I’m sorry I added to the problem.
"Assuming that what you could do worked on a specific frequency. What this would do is filter that frequency so you’d tell it what you were looking for, and it would only let that through. Beauty of it is…" He says, tapping something on the table, and pulling up a wire, ‘plugging it in’ to the chip he had displayed, and out, "you can connect it to something that doesn’t interact wirelessly, and have control over it too."
"Well…" charlie hedged, sounding particularly guilty. "You are looking at one of the best hackers out there so… I wouldn’t need that anyways." She gave a half smile and a shrug. She’d heard of a lot of hacking agencies popping up recently. Anonymous. The Rising Tide. TeaMp0isoN. Charlie flat out refused to work in a group though. "But that does sound interesting. I should show you some of my under the table things."
Clint got off the couch and went to work, using the damp towel and what little medical supplies they had to begin on Charlie’s back. His hands were still as he worked, no longer shaking as his mind had something it could at least attempt to focus on. When the agent finished, he bandaged what he could and stepped back. “There’ll be pain, but… I don’t know what else I can do without so little to work with, you know?”
"Yeah that’s fine. I’ve had worse." she wasn’t sure if she could describe it as worse or not. Mental torture or burns? She couldn’t really find a way to compare the two but mental, in her opinion, was worse. She slowly eased herself up, leaving the bra hooked around her shoulders to keep her boobs covered but not hooking it in the back. "Now we need to clean the wound on your head. "Tell me though… what’s my name?"
Zoe laughs softly. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t ask for it if it’s that valuable.” There is a small tilt of her head as she glances to the side before putting the car into drive, thinking about where she was going before checking and pulling out into traffic. “I work as a bartender at an absinthe lounge that’s attached to a goth club. Otherwise I’m a dancer. Not at the goth club though.”
"Okay, that’s pretty cool. I drink enough alcohol to appreciate a pretty bartender." she gave a small smile and bit her lip. "How long have you been working there anyways?"
Perhaps he would of laughed at her joke had he not been thinking of the picture his phone was sent. He had just assumed the image was wrongly sent to him, but seeing her now, he wondered- had it? But she seemed not to know, so he pushed behind the small amount of doubt. Pursing his lips as he thought to the photo, he softly nodded. “Aye, it was flattering…”
The topic change was somewhat of relief as he didn’t want to have the moral dilemma of whether or not he should tell her about the photo. “I have sworn to protect Midgard, I think it only right I visit often… Especially since it’s the only realm that seems to find world-ending catastrophes monthly.”
"Well good." she grinned then paused. "Wait… which photo was it?" she asked, suspicion coloring her tone when she remembered sending that photo to a friend of hers a couple hours ago and realizing she sent it to the wrong number. Her cheeks flared red at the thought of accidentally sending her basically topless photo to the God of fricken Thunder. She was pretty embarrassed now, hoping her suspicion was false so he didn’t get the wrong idea.
"Yeah, we are pretty bad aren’t we? One world ending dumbass stunt after another. I’m surprised we haven’t all died off already." she was grinning slightly now, scratching her elbow as the nerves brushed off slightly. She wasn’t really afraid that he’d seen her that way, the way in the photo, she was more worried of what he’d think of her. If he’d think she sent it on purpose to try and seduce him or some weird crap.
"Well, not a modem… and we wouldn’t be stopping it… as much as letting something else do the filtering instead of your mind." He says, finishing his design, which appeared to be some form of giant chip. "I was thinking more…" Fitz adds, reaching up to the chip and touching the sides and pushing it in until it was something that could fit in a watch or pendant or something, "like this."
She looked at it for a moment and frowned. “How would it work?” she asked as she examined the item on display.