Come Follow Me...

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by viperslate13610, May 16, 2012.

  1. James sat in front of his computer screen, typing an email. We was writing a letter to his sister whom had moved away interstate. He hadnt spoken to her for quite a while and decided finally that he had better contact her sooner rather than later. A beer sat at his right and a desk fan on the left, cooling him from the thick summer air. He began his letter, taking a sip.

    Dear Sis,
    How is everything? I heard your 18th was a killer :)
    I bet the hangover is a brilliant experience at the moment, too. I've been okay, just in case you were wondering how your big bro was doing.
    It gets a bit lonely here sometimes without a younger sister to annoy, lol. ;P

    Then his screen froze. He tried tapping enter, mashing the keyboard and waitng a few seconds for any kind of response. He took another sip. As he put his bottle down, the screen went black. Not off, just black. "Great. I just had this piece of crap repaired..." he said, his sentence being cut short as words appeared across the screen... They were somehow, well, wrong...


    C̄̏ͦ̔̋̚͜oͮ͝m̴̓ͩ̈͊͑͆̈̽͏̡eͥ̍̇̒ͥͭ͐̽́ ̢͌ͪ̏͠Fͦ̐ͮ̋̾o͑ͨ͌̔ͥͩ͗̕l̓̏̇ͥ̋̊̓̆҉lͩͨͦͫ͒̽ͯ̿ͣ͏̴o̒ͬ͒͏̨w͊̀̆ͤ̂͆͏͢ ̑́M͂̄̄̉̆͗̓ͣȩ̍̐̇̓͂ͫ.̴͐.͐̾̎ͦ̔̔̈̏̚͞.̷͑ͪͧ̀ ̸̶͆̀ͧ̎Cͮͮ̃̋͠͠ȏ̸̧̽ͨ̈́̿̔̚m͂̐̅ͦ̓e̢ͪͬ͌ͣ͂̀͒ͭͪ͏ ́ͬ̍̔ͧͦ̽ͬ͟͡F̛̌͒̓̃̋̀͠o̧͊̓ͥ̏͟͝l̀̃̍͊͊̎ͧ̔͏̸l͑̾͝o̢͂ͨͧ̆ͮ͘wͧ̃͗̆̈͌ͪ̌ ͆̒ͣ̄̋̔M̿̿ͪ̐ͪͯ̒̀͝ë́̍͂̀̀.̢̄ͫ.̔͋ͥ̏͊̑̌̀̈́.̽ͫ͏͝</TEXT>

    What the fuck?! What the hell is this? Some kind of sick joke?!


    C̄̏ͦ̔̋̚͜oͮ͝m̴̓ͩ̈͊͑͆̈̽͏̡eͥ̍̇̒ͥͭ͐̽́ ̢͌ͪ̏͠Fͦ̐ͮ̋̾o͑ͨ͌̔ͥͩ͗̕l̓̏̇ͥ̋̊̓̆҉lͩͨͦͫ͒̽ͯ̿ͣ͏̴o̒ͬ͒͏̨w͊̀̆ͤ̂͆͏͢ ̑́M͂̄̄̉̆͗̓ͣȩ̍̐̇̓͂ͫ.̴͐.͐̾̎ͦ̔̔̈̏̚͞.̷͑ͪͧ̀ ̸̶͆̀ͧ̎Cͮͮ̃̋͠͠ȏ̸̧̽ͨ̈́̿̔̚m͂̐̅ͦ̓e̢ͪͬ͌ͣ͂̀͒ͭͪ͏ ́ͬ̍̔ͧͦ̽ͬ͟͡F̛̌͒̓̃̋̀͠o̧͊̓ͥ̏͟͝l̀̃̍͊͊̎ͧ̔͏̸l͑̾͝o̢͂ͨͧ̆ͮ͘wͧ̃͗̆̈͌ͪ̌ ͆̒ͣ̄̋̔M̿̿ͪ̐ͪͯ̒̀͝ë́̍͂̀̀.̢̄ͫ.̔͋ͥ̏͊̑̌̀̈́.̽ͫ͏͝</TEXT>

    He slapped the side of the screen violently. The screen turned off and then back on and the page with his email was back. He finished his email and his beer and turned the machine off. He sat in front of the television, and flicked over to Family Guy in an attempt to shake the sick feeling in the back of his throat and the fear that hung over him like a guillotine blade. He decided that he had had enough internet for one day...
     
  2. Dusty lights hung in the ceiling as the hum of a dozen fans and the tapping of keys were the only sounds in the room. Half a dozen screens lay haphazardly piled against the far wall, three of them showed news channels while the other three showed documentaries. On the computer screen on the desk there were endless lines of code that flickered for a moment as the man leaned over the desk saved the file.

    It was an encoded file that used an algorithm to bounce itself to random IPs around the internet for an hour before it would arrive at the server he ran. All in all the file would travel a distance equal to the sun and back.. anyone tracing it would assume it to be too long to be anything but a false lead. You could never bee too careful when publishing government secrets on the internet.

    Some would call Oscar a conspiracy theorist. He preferred the term internet journalist but words didn't matter. Facts did. His internet handle was simple and spoke for itself. "Truth." and that was what he brought to light... according to him. Some of his theories were pretty bizarre.

    His phone rang and slowly he reached for it.

    "Sawat dee." he said in a practiced accent.. his phone was registered outside the country and he preferred if anyone calling him though he was there too. And not him.

    "Oh hey James..." he started a timer on his desk. He wouldn't stay on long enough for a trace to be made. "Computer trouble... sure I... wait you saw what?.. Don't go anywhere I'm on my way."

    He hung up and grabbed a dirty green hoodie and headed out the door. This was Big.. Big with a capital B.
     
  3. James heard a knock at the door only several minutes after he had hung up the phone. He was one of the only people who knew how to reach Oscar directly. Personally he thought Oscar was a little bit... Well... Batshit. But he had known him from when they were both knee high to Santa's elves. Oscar was James' best mate. He opened the door to see Oscar in his filthy green hoodie that he wore everywhere, pulled tight over his ears and face. "Dude..." he said giving a sigh of relief. His expression changed for a second. "Do you know what a washing machine is, mate?" he said before letting him in. "Do you want a cuppa? Coffee? Beer?" he said closing the door behind Oscar. "Absinthe, knowing you...." he said more to himself than anyone else, rumaging through the pantry.
     
  4. The hoodie stayer on. Jame's apartment hadn't been gone over by Oscar with a fine tooth comb like he was always offering to. "I know what they are but no one wants to look at me with it like this. SO those who do have reason to." he looked around his eyes darting from side to side. "New TV? did you look under the bezel? You should always look under the bezel..." his TVs he had taken apart and reassembled himself to make sure there was nothing inside them.

    "Just coffee.." he didn't trust beer. It was canned. He finally lowered the hood and edged closer to the computer. "You said the screen went black and words appeared... Did you manage to see the words and any pattern in the scrambles parts around them?" he took a deep breath "I think you've been visited by Icarus."
     
  5. (may I join?)

    Lily "Pet" Rodriguez was home alone, and it should have been a great experience, but she was so lonely! She lay on the sofa, and hummed to herself tunelessly.

    She lay there for another half hour, before she suddenly jumped up. "Ok, that is it!" She exclaimed aloud to nobody in particular. "I am going to phone someone!"

    Lily picked up her phone from where it lay on the table, and she flicked through her contacts list. A name jumped out at her and she smiled. Her good friend James. She dialled the number, and waited for him to pick up.
     
  6. "One coffee, coming up, Oscar." said James as he took out the instant coffee and placed it on the bench. He put the jug on to boil. He turned around to face a nurvous looking Oscar. "Yeah, there were words in amongst the jumble. It said 'Come Follow Me... Come follow me...'" he said reluctantly recalling the situation within his head. "Go on, take a look at it. I don't know why I even got anyone except you to fix it in the first place..." he said, fixing up the coffee and handing it to Oscar. The phone rang and it startled him slightly. He picked it up. "Hello?"


    ((Sure, i guess, but I'll have to put a no more players needed sign on the thread.))
     
  7. Oscar was already placing his bag of tricks on the floor and pulling the cabled out of the back of the computer and sliding out his screwdriver. The had the case off in the blink of an eye and was pulling cables out and was then cradling the hard drive in his hand. First thing he did was plug it into what looked like a box made out if circuit boards and left it there for a few minuets then once the backup was made he pulled out a netbook that he had taken out the wifi and bluetooth of to make sure it was completely isolated and was then plugging Jame's hard drive into it.

    He pulled a pair of glasses onto his nose and began going through the files.

    "Icarus... a computer toutched by Icarus.. but wheres the trace?"
     
  8. "Hey James." Lily perched on the edge of the sofa, and smiled to herself - no matter what mood she was in, James always managed to make her smile even with just a word.

    "What you doing right now? I'm so bored and lonely at the moment."
     
  9. James would have said: How the hell should I know, you are the computer dude. If he hadn't noticed in time that it was a rhetorical question. His attention flicked to the television for a second before he remembered he was on the telephone. He walked to the fridge and opened another bottle of beer, taking a sip. He lifted the phone away from his face for a second. "You had better put that shit back together man." he said giving a slight laugh. "And if you need any more tin foil, just ask me this time instead of stealing it." he said smiling jokilly as he placed the phone back to his face. "Hey, Pet. I've got Oscar over. My computer has a virus or something." he replied. "If you're that damn bored come on over. Plenty of beer and at lest the TV works." he said plainly.
     
  10. Lily laughed out loud. "Who are you talking to about tinfoil? Nutter." She curled her feet up under her, and listened to the phone.
     
  11. "Oh thats just Oscar. See ya when you get here!" he said with an audiable smile as he hung up and watched Oscar busilly jackrabbiting away, covered in wires and cords and chips and a laptop on his lap.
     
  12. "Hello?" there was something and Oscar was excited to see it. A tiny little trace of something. Barely 4kb in size in his browsing history. Oscar wasn't and idiot. Tracers and viruses could be tiny and he wasn't taking any chances. He opened the file with a decompiler and watched the progress bar as the program int he file was converted back into raw code sipping his coffee.

    "This is bigger than tin foil James, bigger than..."

    his screen went back.



    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟



    The fan died and the laptop shut itself down leaving Oscar staring. Nothing had triggered the file and it it was set to autorun it would have happened as soon as he plugged the hard drive in. He shook his head and turned the laptop back on pulling Jame's drive from the port.

    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟

    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟

    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟

    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟

    C̡̙̻͈̳̰̣̊̔̂ͮ͑͜ó̹ͦ͞m̯̩̟̹̦̼̦̟̎̀̃͊ͧě̜̦͙̯͎̙̖̼̈͟ ̢̡̯͖̳̲̼̠̱̜ͤͥf̤̯̗̻̣̲͙ͮ̿͐͑ͥ̓o̪̠͈͎̬͍̗̾̀͘͝l̢̜̟̜̪ͫͧ͛̔̌̀l͓̤ͩ̅̈́͐̌̿̎͆o̴̪̝ͯ̆͑̐̋ͤ͆ͅw̜̪̩̻̝̹̐ ̋͊̔̌͂̓͑̄҉̢̯͇̪̭͢m͛̉̊ͦͨ҉̰̹̪̕e̷̗̟͔̯̯̬̲̹ͭ.̷̷̴̣͚̘̮̬̘̮̇ͅͅ ̵̤͖͈̄̃͘C͙̰͓̟̩͋̍͌̓ͯ͠͡ő̻͓̯̜̰̜ͮ̓̽͌̀ͤ̂̀͜m̸̢̮̲̠̣͂̔̉͐é͈̩̱͎̹̜̲̹̍̍ͣ̇ ͩ̒ͣ͊̿͏͉̀f̭̯̣̳͒ͦ͌͑͠o̧̗̥̹͍̜͇͌̌͗͗̊͠l̼͉̦̗̹̔̂ͨ̿ͦ̿̒̆l̬̭͉̦̝̍̋̾͋͑o̵̠̫̱̬̭̝̯ͬͭ͘͠w̻͇̹͈̪̃̍̅ͯ͢ ̡̙ͣ͛ͮ͞m̧̢͍̝͚̺̒̉̎̽ͤͯ̚eͥ̄ͮͩ͏̼̣̞̥͎̖̪̼.ͭͪ͐ͫ͜҉̩̼̪̘̺̗̺̯ ͒̄͐̊̅͏̡̭̪C̶͉̻̟̜̣̻̗ͮ̈͐́ͤ͌ͯ̒̀o̩ͮͪͬͅm͒̍̇̆҉̘̖͉̣͍̱͍̭ė̟͉̐̋̿̉ͮ͌͑͘ ̸̼̫̞̪̝͓ͮͭ̇̑̂ͭ͘͞f̨̯͖̙͔̞͔͕̫̜̌̀o̵̗̣̰͙̳̖̳̓͋ͮ͋̊̐͠l̩̲̝̘̪̽̀ͬ̈̚͝l̸̖̬̱̰̓̑ͦ͌͆̅̓͑o̥̻͍̹͈̍͟w̥̭͕͙͓̙̝̬̌̄͞ ̸̸̱͕̦͈̙ͫ͜m̖̦͕̓͛͂ͮe̷̡̝͕͉̮̯̙͚̬͌͆ͮ̍ͬͯ̌͜.̧̨̰̯̩̿̐͠ ̰͔̻͇̤̠̺̪͑̓̐ͫ̐̂̂͢ͅC̵̡̥̱̤͕͉̿̈̃́ò͔̺̗̎̈̽̑̐͒̀̚ṃ̸̤̻͙͉̯̥̳ͥ̉͘ȩ̲̲̟͓̦̾͛̅̍ͧ͡ ̴̟̟͓̣̻̭̱̖̀̾̀f̈̎͑͋ͯ̿̆͏̶̹̠̠o̮̯͈̹̼̭̝̓̿ͦ̍ḻ͉̝̭̠̹̳͉͖ͮ́ͦͤ̈́͡l̸̡̮͖̭̮͈͔̼̳̒̇̀ͫ̈ͩ͊̚o̩̰̬̤̜̤͆͐̐̑w̭͍͚̙̣̖̥̱͆ͯ͛̀͘ ̰̭̰̙͛̒ͫͩ̔̚͡ͅmͤ̔̇̔̅ͥ͏̣̦̺͎̰̠̠̘͡ȇ̅̓̊̌ͪ̆̾͏̘̘͍̱̮͍̤.͎̘̳̮̦̗̲͋̂̕͟

    "Bugger."
     
  13. Lily grinned, and hopped to her feet.She hurried into the bathroom, and changed into more suitable clothing - she was currently wearing a pair of pyjama shorts and a skimpy top, which wouldn't do.

    ~~~~

    Ten minutes later, she was leaving her apartment, more suitably dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a black camisole. She grabbed her phone off the table and her keys off the hook, and left to go to James's place.
     
  14. "Yeah, bugger sounds about right." he said with a sigh, taking another sip of his amber brew. "Now both our computers are fucked..." he said unenthusiasticly. He took a look at the screen. His stomach sank and he choked a little on his beer. "That's it. That's the shit that was on my screen. Now it's gone and got you too!? Bloody brilliant..." he said setting his beer down on the bench. Oscar was usually indestructable. He was the virus-immune man. To him, STIs were a myth. That was just how isolated from any kind of virus he tended to be. Now if one got him... this was some serious shit...
     
  15. Lily drove over there quickly on her moped, and parked outside the door. She slid off it, and turned the ignition off, before hurrying up to the door, and knocking lightly, but cheerfully.

    She fixed her hair, and straightened the bottoms of her jeans.
     
  16. Oscar wasn't the kind to give up. He pummeled the keyboard as he tried starting up again and with a flash drive int he port he was able to boot from it into windows PE.

    "You shouldn't have opened." he said in a low voice as he started loading up programs to protect the PE's ramdisk "You were decompiled. What can be decompiled and still run?"

    The answer was simple. Web pages, vb scripts, python files... none of them should have been able to run.

    I̷̗̝̳ͧ̇̽ͪ̌͞ͅ ̷̤͚͍̪̟̂̀̆̃̂̀͜ṡ̷̴̷̜̺̲̘̳͔͔̪̲ͩ̏̄͂ͬ̃ͫa̴̟͎̠̿͑͢͝i͖͎̫͔̫̦̒̈͂̆̓̇́͝͠ḓ̸̡̤̆͜ ̐͋̇͌ͮ͏̗̫̟̜͓͎͝͠c͓̝͆ͫͩ̀͊̄́ͦo̖̱̻̻̩̾ͯ̇ṁ̸̰͔̟͕̖͖̂͗̋̄̕e͈͍̽ͩ͌͢ ̨̺͙͈̦̩̄͆̅ͬ̈́̀f̥͍͉̜̈ͭͬ͆̅̚̕ò̵̢̤̲̞̖͍̘̜̺̈ͫͩl̴̴̀̄҉͖͓̯̟̮͚l̛̬̲̠͍̗̩͖͔̥͐͊̈́̓ͬ͒́͝o̸̟̥̙̟̤̙͚̼̺̓̒͆̃͂ͣ͒̏w͊҉̗͎́ ̷̶̩̀ͫ̿͠m͓͉͆͑̅͋͐̿̉̚͟͟ͅe͇̟̗̦̤̱̐͛̕

    It only flickered on the screen for a moment and then was gone leaving the screen as it was.

    "What did you do James... where did you pick this up?" he wasn't actually talking to James but in his own world.
     
  17. James opened the door to see Pet straighteneing the bottom of her jeans. "Come on in, Pet." he said feeling a little bit better that he had another friend around. "Beer?" he asked. He reconsidered. "Passion Pop? Cruiser?" he said sarcasticly, even though he did stock a LOT of alcohol for any and every occasion.

    "I was writing an email to Evie, Oscar. And then it shat itself something chronic." he replied out of reflex
     
  18. She smiled, and hugged him in welcome. "Hey Jamie." using her pet name for him. She followed him into the kitchen and grinned. "Beer please." She grabbed a can from the fridge and opened it with a hiss.

    Lily had been drinking for about a year, and she loved nothing more than the taste of beer.
     
  19. "Well, then, Almighty Beer Leech, make yourslef at home." he said as the can hissed open. He picked up his bottle and took another sip, leaning over Oscar's shoulder. He always hated that. "What do we say to guests, Oscar?" he said patronisingly.
     
  20. Lily rolled her eyes and chucked a banana at him playfully. "If I am the Almighty Beer Leech, then what does that make you?" She retorted and took another gulp of her drink.

    "Hey Oscar."