Off The Grid

It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you...

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Name Meme

IT’S HARDER THAN YOU THINK. NO USING GOOGLE. EVERY ANSWER MUST START WITH THE FIRST LETTER OF YOUR MUSE’S NAME.

PLEASE REPOST; DON’T REBLOG.

• NAME. Ha. I would say nice try, but that would be a lie. Let’s say, for the purposes of the game, I suppose...Edam.

• ANIMAL. Eagle

• BOYS NAME. Edward

• GIRLS NAME. Erin

• COLOR.  Emerald

• MOVIE.  Ender’s Game. Had to see whether they had finally managed to make a worthwhile movie adaptation of a novel. They have not.

• SOMETHING YOU WEAR.  Edwardian garb, but only on occasion.

• DRINK.  Energy drinks.

• FOOD. Eggplant. Preferably pan-seared, drizzled with a vinaigrette reduction.

• SOMETHING FOUND IN A BATHROOM. Everything, if you put it there.

• PLACE. Everywhere.

• REASON FOR BEING LATE. “Except for not dying, nothing about this journey has gone well.”

tagged by: @a-little-birdy-told-me

tagging: 

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

Mozz pointed out that people might break in expecting him to be like any other human, and Thomas chuckled. “Yeah, sure, it’s possible,” he agreed. “But the building security measures seem to be enough of a deterrent for most of the common criminals, and the odds of anyone targeting my specific apartment are pretty low in a building this size unless they know at least something about me.” He shrugged. “Everything is possible. It’s just unlikely, I think.”

And he wasn’t sure he cared so much about anything easily accessible in his place that he needed a great deal of additional measures. Besides, he didn’t mind tracking the culprit down afterward to rectify the situation to his liking. His cars were in more danger than his home.

Once they were inside, Thomas kept a close eye on Mozz, following him curiously around. He really was interested in how this went, but at the same time, he strongly suspected that the odd little guy would happily help himself to anything he decided to collect as a tip if it suited him.

Funny that, given the insistence that crime was still a possibility in here. Thomas smirked to himself. If he were that committed to preventing it, he probably shouldn’t have invited a criminal right inside.

Then Mozz asked about the building and Thomas lifted an eyebrow. It sounded like Mozz was shopping around.

“In the market for a place to live?” he asked, sounding amused. “It’s a bit crowded for you, isn’t it? Such a big building.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty quiet, though. The walls are well insulated. I never hear my neighbors. And obviously the place is well-maintained. Helps that this isn’t the type of place people often move if they have kids.”

Unlikely, yes. “Unlikely” is the crack through which things slip.

One thing he could say, though, was that Thomas did keep an eye on him as he wandered around. Not necessarily so much so that it would do anything, but it was something, at least. Something to note, too.

‘Mozz’ wasn’t expecting full trust, in the slightest: they were both outside of a trust zone here. Thomas, for letting him into his home, and he, for going. Each were vulnerable, just in different ways.

That was just how Mozz liked it.

He let out a laugh to Thomas’ words, scanning the side tables and lamps. “I seem like a small-building sort of fellow to you?” He turned a smirk and a raised eyebrow to the vampire, before looking back to the device and reaching underneath and behind one of the tables, pulling loose a little module with a sigh. Sloppy and uninventive, or perhaps, a sloppy and uninventive decoy.

“Not hearing the neighbors has its perks, as does not being heard, of course,” he spoke as he moved, slipping the bug so far found into his pocket and heading toward another room at random. He didn’t care which, he had no order in which to inspect them, only wanted to get them all. “Not in the market as such, no...but you never know. Maybe things will change. That couch looks incredibly uncomfortable, can you even sit on that?” He cast the piece of furniture an incredulous look before moving through a doorway to...the kitchen.

Or at least, it purported to be a kitchen. It had a fridge, a stove, the standard accouterments. “How big’s the place? You get a lot of company? Might change how many bugs they’ve got, where they’ll put them...”

Another was in behind a cupboard door, tucked under the lip of it, and Mozz openly scoffed at that. “Really? Amateurs.” He shook his head, but was fairly sure it was a ploy to distract away from one or two legitimately well-hidden bugs. It’s what he would’ve done: leave a few half-hidden, where they’ll be found, and people will call off their search early.

“Probably,” he muttered somewhat begrudgingly, waiting to see if it was the truth before he passed judgement on it.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

“Me neither,” Thomas agreed with a shrug as they headed inside. “The spaces aren’t determined by floor or room number or anything since not everyone uses a car. So I’m not really sure. I don’t think there’s any way to find out. You can just pick one at random later, I guess. Uh, just skip the giant Hummer that’s out on the street; that one’s mine too.”

Mozz complimented the building and Thomas grunted his agreement. He was rather fond of it, too. It hadn’t really felt quite right early on; it had felt more like the sort of place the person he was pretending to be was expected to live, but at this point he’d been here long enough that it was home. It was safe and secure. Well, mostly. Not entirely, which was why Mozz was here in the first place. But it was free from arbitrary intrusions in a way that living back at the chateau hadn’t been. This was distant, away from his family. It was a refuge.

“Yeah, I like it,” he agreed. He snorted at the complimentary security consultation. “Noted. I’ll be sure to pass it along. We haven’t had any reports of break-ins in nearly as long as I’ve lived here,” not counting the way Harry had just casually made his way past security before, technically, “but that doesn’t mean nothing’s ever happened. I mean, my sister gets her people in here somehow. And the place is big enough that there are a lot of visitors coming and going regularly.”

It probably didn’t matter how many cameras were installed in the lobby, though. At the end of the day, humans would always be the weak link. If someone wore a sufficiently convincing maintenance uniform or something, it wasn’t like anyone would stop them. And as long as nothing was actually reported, the charade wasn’t a hard one to keep up.

But that was fine. “I’m not too worried about it anyway. I don’t think a lot of people would be stupid enough to break into a vampire’s home. And I don’t have much to steal that can’t be replaced.” And if someone were coming after him, he had a threshold and the ability to defend himself. He just didn’t want to be monitored if it could be avoided.

The elevator finished its ascent and the doors opened to the sixteenth floor. Thomas ushered Mozz out into the hall and headed for his door. He unlocked it and pushed it open, stepping inside to switch on the overhead track lighting. “Come on in,” he said.

Hummer. Why am I not surprised? Mozz rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. It was kind of pleasant to have somebody be such a stereotype. Comforting.

He chuckled softly at Thomas’ words, and raised a skeptical eyebrow as the vampire said there’d never been a reported break-in, but he went on to realize the folly of that statement, and Mozz tipped his head in a nod, grinning.

“Well, there’s always the chance, slim may it be,” he smirked, “that they might not expect you to be a vampire. I know most people expect that of most people, but it could happen. You know, theoretically.”

Thomas led the way and Mozz followed, taking almost subconscious note of the doors, number and placement, along with a few other things. Sightlines, escape routes, the like. Even which apartments looked...promising.

The door opened, an invitation offered, and Mozz grunted an affirmation as he stepped in, sliding his duffle bag to the floor and pulling something out: a little box with a wand and a gauge, with a needle inside which flickered a little. “So then, how is this place in terms of apartments? Nice? Quiet? Cozy?”

Mostly, it was idle conversation...but he was always in the market for new safehouses, as well. The needle flickered as he roved it over the walls, furniture, the like, waiting for it to tick emphatically.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

Thomas cast a glance back into the rearview mirror eventually, only to find that Mozz was nowhere to be seen. Shit. Rolling his eyes to himself, he magnanimously slowed down to about twice the speed limit to allow Mozz to catch up. Inexplicably, that didn’t seem to work either.

Whatever. Mozz knew where he lived, probably. And if somehow he didn’t, Thomas figured he could just text his address over after he arrived. They weren’t that far away, anyway.

He pulled into his parking space before long and parked, then pulled out his phone with a sigh, glancing up at the street outside. Still no sign of Mozz yet. Rolling his eyes to himself, he tapped out a message.

[text] Today, grandma!

It really didn’t take Mozz too long to show up. Thomas was leaning idly against his car, and he pushed off and straightened up as Mozz came to join him.

“Took you long enough,” he couldn’t resist teasing, strolling out to the building entrance. “Nah. I don’t really have anything against anyone. Avoid my floor, I guess? I’m on the sixteenth. I’d rather not get picked up in the background or anything, just in case. I don’t know all that many of my other neighbors, anyway. Big building, people come and go. Probably haven’t even bumped into the majority of them.”

He sure hoped Mozz wasn’t paranoid about strolling into the front door of buildings because he wasn’t sure how else to get up there. The little guy didn’t exactly have a physique that screamed how much he loved scaling tall buildings in his free time or anything.

The doorman nodded politely to the pair of them–probably just to Thomas, really–and held the door open for them, and the security guard behind the lobby desk glanced briefly over them with a knowing look as Thomas headed for the elevator. He cast the staff a cheery wave, pretending that the building security personnel weren’t just convinced that he was a male escort or something.

“I was planning on putting it in a car,” Mozz explained, “so, I’ll be honest, I don’t know which ones of these are for the sixteenth floor.” Thomas seemed ill-inclined to wait, though, so Mozz just set it back down in the van before locking it. It would still be there when they got back, probably; if it wasn’t, problem solved.

The vampire’s building had an actual doorman, and while there was something in Mozz that longed for the era of such things, their heyday, a time of Rockefellers or Capones, and line upon line of defenses erected under the pretense of luxury, this now was only a hollow replica. Not entirely without use, without security, but in comparison, hardly adequate.

Mozz followed Thomas’ lead, waving mildly to people. He plotted out the sightlines, the cameras, the escape routes; where people were and weren’t, and were and weren’t looking. Who looked viable for this, or that: the Three Card Monty, the Five Card Mounty, the Fifty-Two Card Pickup. Some with names that weren’t even card-related.

The elevator was an elevator, the make and model disguised at first by an aftermarket paneling that had been installed, but the fireproof dataplate never lied. Mozz loathed being so relatively trapped, but there was always the escape hatch above; indeed, sometimes it was quite a necessity. He did have one or two fond memories of the same.

“Nice building,” Mozz said as the doors slid closed, letting the duffel bag come to rest on the floor but not leaning back against the walls. “I’m not normally in the business of correcting the security in places like this, but they need at least two more cameras downstairs, and the locks they have are moderate at best. Maybe the security personnel make up for the slack, but,” he chuckled slightly, “if somebody’s doing their job right, those guards will never even know they were here.”

He was counting on Corvo to take out the camera and microphone within the elevator, unknowing of the fact that she was currently flapping around her apartment throwing out every string of curse words she could think of (and making up quite a few new ones) at her phone, and the walls. Unbeknownst to himself, he was getting sloppy.

It would remain unknown, of course. She’d recover, return to herself, and go in and wipe the footage before anybody became aware of it, replacing it with altered shots that made it appear as if they wordlessly, eventlessly, rode the elevator up. She wouldn’t even charge him for it. After all, it was hardly his fault that it happened. Not that she’d admit it was hers, either...

[childofawoundedgod]

Ghoulish Review: PCI: Althea & Mozz

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

childofawoundedgod:

Althea grinned back at Stilton as he complimented her ambition. If the youngling only knew… Alas, even this night was not enough for her to share every detail of her existence. She hadn’t the time.

She gave a sympathetic look when Stilton explained his ailment. “Most craptacular. The body oft imposes restrictions upon us that the mind would relish being without. Perhaps your ailment allows you to truly appreciate that which you are capable of ingesting.”

He filled her glass and Althea watched with a smile as the dark liquid rose higher in her cup. She sniffed at it, admiring the color before taking her first sip. She made an appreciative noise and smiled at Stilton again. “Remarkable. Is this difficult to come by? I would acquire some for personal use.”

She laughed at his remark, nearly spilling her wine but recovering before any of the valuable drink was lost. “Is this not networking?” She sighed and followed his eyes to the crowd.”I’ve found this eve as tubular as I’d hoped. This holiday surpasses all others of the age.”

His confusion at one word in particular overrode his ability to appreciate the sympathy of the larger scape of the words as a whole. “Crap...tacular?” He hadn’t heard the word before, but its meaning wasn’t overly difficult to glean from context, from tone, and Mozz laughed shortly afterward as the rest of it all processed. “Yes, yes, I suppose it is...quite craptacular indeed.”

Regional dialect? Hmm, colloquialism, yes, perhaps. Where from, though?

It didn’t matter. Not at the moment. She asked after the wine, and he chuckled warmly, swilling his glass before raising it for a slow and exquisite sip. “Oh, quite difficult indeed, but...I do have a few bottles. Sadly few with whom to share them, and while I do appreciate stillness with my wine, the better for contemplation...” he sighed, slightly, “...there is something to be said for appreciative company. Something which, I must say, is sometimes quite uncommon.”

Her laughter was a delight of sorts, and Mozz grinned around his sip of wine. “I suppose it is. To networking, then,” he held out his glass for a toast, wondering when the last time he’d heard ‘tubular’ was. Quite a long time ago, indeed. “It is definitely a singular holiday.”

Singularly uncomfortable in any sort of context involving children, but in others...it was quite fine. Specifically here, it was intriguing, downright fascinating even. “It’s been quite a pleasant surprise to make your acquaintance, Althea,” he nodded, turning a soft smile toward the young woman. How many doors could she get through? How many eyes would pass her over, never suspecting? Many, surely, and many again. Entirely intriguing.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

Thomas laughed at the suggestion to foist the microphone off on some hapless neighbor, but that was actually not a bad plan. Might make it seem like it had actually been a genuine mix up.

Okay, so when his sister figured out that the tracker had migrated, too, she wasn’t going to believe the accident story, but she also wasn’t going to confront him about it and admit to her own deeds. This way just gave him plausible deniability, and she’d know it, too. She’d probably even respect it, heh.

He nodded to Mozz, then slid into his car. He hadn’t actually been certain whether Mozz would come for the apartment sweep or just insist that the car alone was adequate compensation for the stake-out after all, and technically he couldn’t really be sure that Mozz would even come, but it was worth a try.

And anyway, he kind of didn’t really mind the company. The guy was odd, but he was amusing and had an interesting head on his shoulders. And he undeniably had some useful skills.

And he was probably going to be interested in that locked room. Shit. Thomas was just wondering how he was going to deflect Mozz’s curiosity when his phone vibrated with an incoming text. Assuming that it was Mozz, he checked it quickly.

Oh, not Mozz. Silver? Yep, that was Corvo. He grinned to himself, replied with a winking emoji, then peeled abruptly out of the parking lot, pedal to the metal, eager to test the car’s capabilities–hopefully without completely losing Mozz in the process.

Mozz raised an eyebrow, partly, as Thomas fairly peeled out of the parking lot.

[Text to: Corvo] He...doesn’t expect me to follow that, does he?

He started the car, and began to drive, his style very much a calculated way of avoiding notice. Not perfect, not textbook driving, no, that would draw eyes, but also not overly wavering. Slightly off-center. Just...quite standard.

[Text from: Corvo] Yeah, I’m on it. Just follow the little birdy.

Mozz rolled his eyes, sticking his phone up in the little holder where the screen gave way to a map. “Har har har,” he murmured, smirking slightly at the corner of his lips, as his van was shown by a little wedge of cheese, and Thomas’ vehicle by a small silver bird.

“That flair for the dramatic is going to get you into trouble, you know,” he sighed, accelerating in order to be able to at least halfway keep up.

Following the path that Corvo sent to his phone was easy enough, although she did make the matter more difficult, of course. Things like popping up a message on the screen which said “You know this isn’t free, right?” to which Mozz only shook his head with a dark chuckle. Nothing was free, and he knew it...and he didn’t like that she was in his phone, either, but there was little other option.

Which, as a matter of fact, he liked even less. Quite hated it, in fact.

Corvo wasn’t doing most of the work manually. The messages, sure, but all of the map display was done by a little waypoint program she’d worked up, using GPS co-ords from Silver’s car’s GPS, and from the phone’s GPS for the other.

Her attention was largely on one of the other two screens in front of her (not counting her phone, of course, sitting idle in her lap), which had Netflix running through Star Trek: Into Darkness. Again.

As a result, she didn’t really pay attention to the actual location of Silver’s car, not until it came nearby, not until a little snippet sent out a warning, a little flash, followed by some beeps.

Corvo hated beeps. She frowned, displeased at the way it felt, but at least the room was cold, just the right level of cold. Enough to be covered entirely in goosebumps, but not enough to be shivering. That never felt quite right.

She picked up her phone. It flashed. It beeped. Silver’s car, on the map, turned, and accelerated, and...pulled in.

“Fuck,” she muttered, drawing her knees up to her chest, skin pressing against skin as she curled in her computer chair. Somewhere, down below her, was Thomas Raith, the vampire who thought she smelled delicious.

In a second, there was no young woman in the computer chair; there was only a bird, dark and small and squawking agitatedly, ruffling its feathers and shivering her head. “Fuck!” The bird cawed, flapping to perch on the back of the chair and glare down at the traitorous phone. “No, fuck off, he can’t.”

Mozz followed the phone’s directions, pulling into a parking lot under an apartment complex a couple of minutes after Thomas’ icon reached it. He found the car, pulled in a few spots away, and then hopped out, looking to Thomas. “Any neighbors in particular who you don’t like?” He grinned, hefting the microphone with battery attached in one hand, which he’d wrapped in a bit of cloth, grabbing the little cloth toolbag with his other hand as he did.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

“Cool,” Thomas said, standing back to give Mozz some space as the odd little guy dealt with the devices, fiddling with the attachments in a way that was utterly foreign to Thomas, who was more accustomed to just ripping them out normally.

Which wasn’t at all subtle. And was probably why his sister always quickly caught on. But he knew she didn’t mean it as a malicious act. She just wanted to know what he was up to. It was probably two parts suspicion and one part protectiveness in her own weird way. It was almost sweet, if it weren’t so annoyingly invasive.

He laughed loudly at Mozz’s suggestion of attaching the tracker to a cop car, deeply amused. “Could be fun,” he agreed. “I’m in favor. Whatever gets it off me for a while anyway.”

He moved back around to the front, glancing over at Mozz. “Back to my place for the sweep? You can follow me there,” he suggested. “You’ll have to park in the guest spaces by the entrance, not in the actual garage. Though if you need to stop to pick up some gear first you can just meet me there if you want.”

Mozz couldn’t suppress the grin as Thomas approved of his plan. Rather, he probably could’ve (at least, if you’d asked him), but where would be the point in that? “Excellent,” he nodded, grinning almost sharklike, all teeth and expectation as his eyes dropped back to the tracker. For the time being, he slipped it into his pocket.

The microphone, on the other hand...that was a worse problem. His voice was already on it, but that meant little to nothing. His name wasn’t nor was anything incriminating, really...or at least, nothing incriminating to which the parties involved could attest, given the detection methods involved.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Mozz nodded, hefting the duffel bag. “No need to stop off anywhere, I’ve already got what I need. You have any particularly annoying neighbors?” He picked up the small spherical microphone in hand with a grin. “Set up a little soap opera for them...think about it, see if their car’s parked inside, let me know when we get there.”

With a nod, Mozz turned on heel to return to the van, unlocking and opening it, sliding the duffel in, and then following it himself. He pulled out his phone to shoot a quick text off.

[Text to: Corvo] Okay, cameras coming up. [Text] Keep them off our backs.

He was halfway through tapping out another, when a response came through.

[Text from: Corvo] Pfft, come on [Text] As if I don’t already know you’re leaving. [Text] The foam bobblehead was fucking stupid.

Mozz rolled his eyes and shook his head. Some youngsters just didn’t have any appreciation for the classics anymore, and he sighed as he climbed into the driver’s seat, turning key in the ignition to fire the van up to life.

Meanwhile, Thomas’ phone buzzed with a text as well.

[Text from: Corvo] Remember, I’ve tuned the injection to give you a little more engine power [Text] Try ot to wrap yourself around a lamppost [Text] Or do, I don’t really care [Text] Enjoy your upgrades, Silver.

[childofawoundedgod]

Ghoulish Review: PCI: Althea & Mozz

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

childofawoundedgod:

Althea smiled and inclined her head. She and Stilton were in agreement. He had a keen mind for one so young. “Indeed,” she remarked when he spoke of progress. “One may find favorable avenues in any scenario if they are willing to seek, to find, to take.”

She laughed at her companion’s views on cheese and wine. “That they are. I tend toward meats and vegetables, but cheese can not be denied. It is an exceptional convenience.”

He agreed enthusiastically with her description of the holiday and she grinned. She’d been rather pleased with her statement as well, that was why she’d said it.

Her head tipped sideways when Stilton offered her another drink. She eyed the label curiously, though the words wanted to shift beneath her gaze until they were difficult to read.She didn’t recognize the vineyard, but the date was quite impressive so she emptied her glass and held it to him with a smile. “I would not be so discourteous to decline such a generous offering.”

“Indeed,” he nodded with a grin that looked decidedly devious, and thus almost unsettling set within the generally-considered-virtuous face of the Statue of Liberty. “I appreciate your ambition.”

All too often it was all wrong, in one way or another: either people desired nothing, took nothing, and got nothing, or they simply snatched at whatever their greedy rat’s eyes first landed upon. To recognize opportunity for opportunity, though, was quite rare. Seeing such a thing in one so young was...somewhat inspiring, even.

His grin lessened in size, and took on an almost restrained quality. “Truth be told,” he confessed, fairly quietly, “I’m actually...lactose intolerant, myself. I still do love the stuff, but...” he sighed, patting his stomach with a hand and shaking his head, sadly, pointed crown swaying left and right, “it doesn’t love me.”

At his offer, she seemed to consider, and he was nearing the point of retracting both offer and bottle, when she tipped back her glass and rendered it empty. Another grin spread across his lips at the sureness behind her action, and he tipped the bottle to her glass, filling it quite generously, and topping off his own as well. The bottle, then, was nearly dry, so he sent the final remnants to her before sliding it amidst his robes again and into a secret pocket which he’d stitched into place. “I appreciate your courtesy! I must admit, the night’s taken an interesting turn overall: I figured it’d be one more party, one more gathering, shake a few hands, smile a few smiles, pleasantries and networking all around...” and maybe a few tidbits here and there, an opportunity or two. 

“I suppose that’s largely still true,” he offered with a bit of a shrug, looking out over the crowd and raising his glass for a deep sip, and not stating anything further on the matter. He did see something interesting in her, something...encouraging, in an odd sort of way, and it had him thinking about the possibilities of apprenticeship. He’d never really taken someone under his wing in such a way before, but he wondered...how much of an opportunity would she seek to find, anywhere, everywhere? What person didn’t toy with the idea of a student? One to whom one could pass along one’s knowledge, to carry on the legacy, as it were...

An interesting concept to mull over, certainly.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

Mozz was probably teasing him, but Thomas couldn’t help laughing all the same, amused by the idea of strapping a hypothetical tracker to a dog.

And then Mozz sounded so shocked that somebody might just leave their car unlocked. Thomas shrugged a little. “Well, not when I’m out with someone, obviously. I don’t want to find some homeless guy asleep in the back seat. But think about it.”

He reached out and tapped on one of the windows.

“It’s glass. Not exactly the shields of the starship Enterprise. If someone wants to break into the car, they’ll break into the car. Why cause unnecessary property damage? That already happens more than enough. Besides, it’s usually in a parking garage with a ton of hidden security cameras. There’d be footage.”

He gave it another moment’s thought. Wasn’t really such a big deal. People always got so paranoid about things like this.

Oh, right. Mozz got paranoid about far more than just this.

“I’ve got an arrangement with a local car place, anyway. They have replacements on standby for me. It’s helpful, considering how often shit seems to go wrong.”

He watched with interest as Mozz withdrew the tracker. Recording device. Hmm. “Think it’s already sent the data back or can it be wiped or something? I’m good with strapping it to a stray dog. Or I guess attaching it to some other person’s car, if you’re absolutely sure that’d be better than the dog thing…”

Mozz suppressed a smirk when Thomas thought that security cameras would keep out people that the car’s various alarms and security measures wouldn’t also preclude. In truth, it wasn’t that he was that surprised that the vampire didn’t lock his car (or even that locking it would really do that much), it was more the mindset of the thing. If he left his car unlocked, what else might he leave unprotected?

He did chuckle at the Star Trek reference, though: it deserved that much at least. Thomas suggested that he went through cars pretty quickly anyway, and that didn’t surprise Mozz either. The guy was basically Tony Stark without the inventive talents, it seemed.

Thomas suggested strapping the recording device to a dog, and Mozz chuckled at that. The question of transmitting or storing, though, was of some concern definitely. “It’s a good question,” Mozz mused, rolling the device between his fingers. “Not familiar with this particular model...but putting it in somebody else’s car would be better than nothing, for sure. Just give me a second...”

Turning away to the duffel bag, Mozz grabbed out a black box and a canvas toolbag. The box was a battery, with a pair of wires leading from it: twelve volt, to take the place of the car’s own electrical system which seemed to be powering the little device. “Time for an Indy Swap,” Mozz murmured, moving to the open car door again and zipping the toolkit open. He cut the twinned wires apart from each other, separating them into singles which he then snapped tap-splices into, positive to positive, negative to negative. A pair of snips, and the little microphone was easily portable, hooked up to the battery which Mozz picked up from the ground, and wound the wires around.

“Well, that’s that.” He flashed Thomas a slight smile, returning to his duffel and putting the toolkit into it and putting the battery beside, before reaching in a picking up the tracking module. A slow grin spread across his lips as he rolled it between his fingers, before he looked conspiratorially to Thomas. “You know...I have just the perfect place to put this one. I’ve been wondering what Chicago PD’s detection methods and response times are like...I wonder how your trackers would react to accidentally chasing down a cruiser?”

Not that he expected much to come of it, really. Anybody going to these extents wouldn’t care one way or another about a little run-in with the police...and as long as they’d planned even half a length ahead, they wouldn’t get caught out, either.

“The microphone I might stick in a cab. Should give them plenty to listen to.”

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

“Uh… putting it on a dog collar?” Thomas asked blankly, not quite following. “I don’t think most dogs actually travel that far, but whatever you think is most likely to get her off my back. I’m good with just getting rid of it. Or I guess attaching it to someone else’s car, if that works. Maybe she’ll get the hint after she wastes time tracking someone who turns out not to be me at all.” Made more sense than strapping it to a dog anyway. He lingered behind Mozz, watching the strange little guy checking the interior, but he couldn’t see a whole lot from this angle with most of Mozz in the way. Not like it helped him any, anyway. He didn’t have the tools to check for bugs. Most of the time it just didn’t occur to him, anyway. It was almost the norm by now. Mozz wanted him to start it up, and he shrugged. He had no idea if any of that was at all accurate or reasonable, but out of the two of them, he suspected that Mozz was the only one who’d bugged a car before. “Sure. One sec.” He stepped away and slid into the driver’s seat, sliding the key into the ignition. A moment later, the engine purred smoothly to life. He left it in park and twisted around to peer back at Mozz between the seats, watching curiously. “You sure she’d bug the inside?” he asked. “Seems like a lot more work than just snapping something to the outside.” He frowned. “Although I guess I do just leave it unlocked sometimes.”

‘Mozz’ turned an incredulous look to Thomas as he took the words literally, smirking slightly when the vampire suggested putting it on another car...instead of a dog. “Ah, much better plan, yes. Another car; makes far more sense than a dog.” He suppressed the urge to make too many overly sarcastic comments...at least just yet.

“Definitely more work,” he groaned slightly as he twisted to reach around underneath and inside the vehicle. “Better payoff, too. Inside you can get recordings rather than just location, and often, what people are saying is more important than where they’re saying it...”

Although really, it was the two in conjunction which held the most interest. ‘Mozz’ was starting to get a feel for the people who’d bugged Thomas’ car, though.

However, as Thomas said that he sometimes just left his car unlocked, Mozz had to extricate himself from his precarious position to stare blankly back at him. “You what.” The sentence held only the barest inflection of a question.

Mozz shook his head, chuckling slightly. “Good to know, at least. You leave anything else unlocked? Apartment? Bank account?” A smirk spread across his lips as he reached the wand underneath the passenger’s seat and there was a beep. Grinning triumphantly, he reach under and there was something tucked in underneath the fabric below the seat: a small recording device.

“Congratulations! Whatever you’ve been doing in here, you’ve had an audience,” Mozz murmured, pulling the device out carefully, not disconnecting the wire that led away from it. Several possibilities for what might happen, most of them non-issues, some of them problematic, and two or three explosive and/or fatal.

Best to err on the side of caution.

[childofawoundedgod]

Ghoulish Review: PCI: Althea & Mozz

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

childofawoundedgod:

Althea smirked as Stilton defamed those that wished for less while expecting the same amount of convenience. “All eras are simple in hindsight. I assure you that each seemed complex when viewed as the present.” All days were the end times, and all people thought themselves the most advanced of any era. It was almost cute how predictable humans were.

“The need to adapt drives all manner of creatures,” she responded when he stated he would have been blind. “All benefit from the labor of their predecessors.” Even she had, in her day. She’d learned how difficult building a Temple and religion could be. She was lucky that when she was born one was already established. She’d have been lost without her Lady.

She smiled patiently as the man spoke of his family’s love of cheese. “I will confess that I’ve a weakness for it. In my youth I was no much accustomed to the flavor, but I’ve developed a liking.” Althea grinned and sipped her drink. “My preference is still for wine, however.

Speaking of wine, her head was feeling substantially less fuzzy than it had been at the beginning of the conversation. She’d forgotten to drink, and as a result her intoxication was leveling off. She couldn’t decide if she preferred the feeling, or if she wanted to continue to harass the bartender for refills.

Or perhaps Stilton would share.

Althea’s teeth flashed as Mr Mozzerella stated why he enjoyed Halloween. “I enjoy the holiday for the same reasons.” On this night, no one cared if someone was a monster. “The wolves may roam freely, and the sheep might pretend that they have a defense. It is all charmingly chaotic.”

She nodded and made a soft sound of agreement. “I am well. I grow weary of intoxicants at the moment. I may soon endeavor to discover another diversion.”

“A fair point,” Stilton conceded, tipping his head. “That much even I recall - a time before the modern era of social media and internet connections. A time when many things were easier...and many harder as well. Pros and cons, I suppose.” He? He was both. A Pro, and a con. He smirked at his own internal joke.

“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants,” Mozz responded with a grin, quite pleased by the applicability of that particular quote.  Althea seemed to be quite a big-picture sort of person, very much looking at the long-term, the long haul, the long con perhaps. He wondered briefly how far that went, and whether the associated traits that he expected would hold true as well. “Of course, though, yes; often setbacks turn out to be developments in a different direction. Improvement is wherever we search for it.”

She spoke of cheese, and wine, and he grinned. “Why choose only one? They’re only all the better for the pairing,” he murmured, taking another steep mouthful of his rapidly emptying glass.

That whole section of conversation was somewhat uncomfortable, not that he’d ever admit it, and so he was as surprised as any person else when he laughed at the way she phrased Halloween, all thoughts of the family he didn’t have leaving his head as he turned to look to her directly with an appreciative and highly amused grin. “A wonderful way of phrasing it! Simple, evocative, and entirely correct,” he laughed again, nodding, and looking around at all of the sheep. Today, his costume was like anybody else’s...so nobody might think he had another underneath.

Refilling his glass, he shuffled the bottle to his other hand to cork it once more, as Althea mentioned intoxicants. “Weary, you say?” He raised an eyebrow to her, smiling slyly beneath it. “I suppose I shouldn’t offer you a refill there, then? A shame, this is an exquisite vintage...” he murmured, making a show of holding out the bottle, inspecting the label...and clearly displaying the date and vineyard in her direction. Something about this somewhat odd woman, even only a girl, practically, had him somewhat taken. He didn’t expect to find such maturity behind a teen dressed up as a comic book character.

A shortcoming, that, and one he was pleased not to have acted upon too brashly.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Snacks and Surveillance: Thomas/Mozzarella

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

t-raith:

Mozz seemed to want to start with the outside of the car first, so Thomas hung back and watched curiously. He had absolutely no idea what the hell any of the equipment was. He’d never seen anything quite like it before. Maybe on television at some point? The guy seemed to know what he was doing, though, and given how paranoid he seemed to be, Thomas was inclined to trust him in this regard.

Apparently there was nothing to be found, and he was about to ask whether Mozz was talking about that one spot or the car as a whole somehow, because it seemed odd that the guy could check the entire car all at once like that, but before he could say anything, Mozz withdrew some unfamiliar bit of what looked like a chunk of metal or something. Plastic? He couldn’t tell. The piece wasn’t exactly very clean from where it had been tucked away.

Thomas frowned at it. A tracking device? He wished that surprised him more than it did–which was to say not at all. It hadn’t been any secret, but he’d never found that one.

“I guess it doesn’t make much difference,” he mused. “Lara knows I’ve found some of her shit before. I just destroyed it in the past.” Or a convenient wizard had burned it all. Whatever. Same thing. “Though I guess if there’s some way to have it feeding false data, she’d have no reason to think I found it.”

That seemed like the best solution, just in case. He rolled his eyes, thinking about his whereabouts the past few weeks.

“God forbid she realize I spend a lot of time at home, then visit clubs and bars in my free time,” he remarked dryly. “Really, I don’t know what they expect of me. It’s not like I’m darting around town selling them all out to enemies or something.”

Thomas hemmed and hawed on what exactly he wanted done with the tracker. Interesting, given that this was apparently not a new occurrence, “False data would be possible, but require more upkeep. Dog-collaring’s an easier method, but isn’t usually too difficult to detect,” Mozz shrugged idly. It didn’t occur to him that perhaps not everybody would know what that meant. It just seemed so obvious to him, such a standard piece of information; it no more occurred to him to explain it, than it would to explain what lunch was, or the falsehoods surrounding the moon landing (which hadn’t been entirely faked, of course, that was only a cover story to distract people from the real story).

A snorted snicker greeted Thomas’ descriptions of his own activities, and Mozz shrugged, dropping the module into his toolbag. “You can figure out what to do with it in a minute, I’ll move along to the inside of the car...”

An interior which was really quite luxurious and spacious, and had about a million containment crevices. Every piece of flashing or trim could contain any number of hidden gadgets and devices, it was just practically begging to be bugged. Begging to be bugged, Mozz smirked slightly, bug-begging. I like that.

Waving his detector and keeping an eye on the dial, Mozz was glad again to have his little deux-cheveaux. With no tools he could all but disassemble the interior: the doors slid off of their hinges entirely, permitting nice and easy access, and there were very few places for things to hide. He wasn’t exactly the most mechanically inclined, but all he needed to take his car completely to pieces was an adjustable wrench, and he could strip it down to the bed. This vehicle, though...this was more complex.

He had his work cut out for him.

Starting off with the obvious places (which meant, of course, the non-obvious ones), he searched, with detector and eyes, and his hand as well. If he were the one installing something internally, he’d have ensured it was wired to only be on when the vehicle was on, cutting down on the chance of it being found.

“Why don’t you start it up?” Mozz murmured, laying back across the front seats, reaching underneath the dashboard. “Smart move would be a passive bug, a lot less detectable when it’s not actively powered.”

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Bush Senior George W and Trump

...why, why, why could I not get murder, stab, eviscerate? Or possibly just a triplicate of “erase from history”?

Well, adopted kids tend to be treated pretty horribly. Let’s adopt Trump.

Irritate Bush Senior. Consider it payback, but honestly he pales in comparison to the others.

Borrow from W. He probably wouldn’t remember it two days later. “Weapons of Mass Destruction” my left buttock.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Marissa Althea Corvo

Corvo could probably use some reprimanding. For instance, for the time she moved my accounts around. To Guatemala. Do you have any idea what the taxation rate is on money entering Guatemala?!?

Interfere with...Althea, I suppose. Avoiding contact removes one option, and she hardly needs reprimand, but I’d also rather avoid delaying her works.

Seems I’m giving Miss Goodnight a massage, then. I’ve got a nice oil, actually, from Tibet, and some candles as well; learned a few tricks from the monks of the region. Massage is a lost art in general, I’d say, but it’s hardly alone there...

@dontlooktheprivateintheeye @a-little-birdy-told-me @childofawoundedgod

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Althea, Barry, an orphan

...well, at least two of those don’t sound like me. Not exactly settled on that ‘with’ in the third, either.

Kill...Barry, I suppose, although really he’s not done anything. Just the least objectionable option. Stab Althea: I’ve no doubt she’d use the trauma as fuel for some beautiful work.

Run away with an orphan. They deserve somebody who’ll watch out for them.

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

Marissa, Thomas, Corvo

*cough cough* Ahem. Hmm.

Revive whichever one needs it. Of the three...Corvo. Frame...hmm. Thomas probably would result in more backlash, but, then, considering the other option as well...I suppose I should prepare myself for some backlash in this hypothetical scenario.

Quite possibly a fair bit of it.

Frame Thomas, fuck Miss Goodnight. In reality, from our interactions to date, I doubt anything in particular would come of it, and perhaps I can frame Thomas for something small. More like a prank, sure...

[childofawoundedgod]

Ghoulish Review: PCI: Althea & Mozz

[paranormalparanoia-blog]

childofawoundedgod:

Althea took the second card, barely glancing at it before putting it in her pouch for Andiemme. This man was quite odd, but if he was truly gifted at acquisitions, then Althea wanted a means of getting in touch.

Sometimes there were things that she needed that were impossible to buy. It didn’t happen often, but on occasion….

“It supplies you and your customers with a higher level of anonymity. I would imagine that is important in your line of work.” Althea often wanted her name known so that she could spread her Lady’s word, but there were eras in which she’d needed to hide. In every age there were topics and acts for which humans had no tolerance.

Althea shrugged as the man told her he sometimes wished be belonged to an earlier age. “Many younglings do. To be without convenience after one had grown accustomed is no easy feat.” She’d lost indoor plumbing and decent healthcare enough times for one life - or, however many lives she was currently on.

He seemed to com around, and Althea dipped her head in concession with medical technology. “Indeed. Lives are much improved by advancements in those areas. Lobotomies and leeches were quite barbaric. It was discouraging.” It made her wonder if the touch was worth it, but so often she would have slipped into Rampancy for her help, and she realized that she couldn’t help everyone. Why should she lose several decades to give someone a few more years? The math spoke for itself.

The man apologized and explained his delay of introduction before bowing deeply to her. He was quite dramatic, but Althea could hardly judge on that front. She cast him a small smile, but a brow quirked upward at the name he granted. “So it would seem. Your parents were connoisseurs of cheeses?”

Stilton commented on her name and Althea hummed in consideration. “Is it?” Its popularity rose and fell through the ages, though she’d heard little of it beyond her homeland. Still, on occasion she would learn of another who shared her form of address. It wasn’t so archaic as to be unusable.

Althea sipped her wine in turn. “Are you finding the party to your liking, Mr. Mozzarella?”

“Precisely! Anonymity can be of tantamount importance,” he grinned with a nod, the expression looking a little bit out of place given his garb, but, then, so did his glasses. And the bottle of wine.

It was, in fact, why he’d chosen the costume - a statement on the farce that was American “Freedom”, so to speak. Lady Liberty, reduced to a joke, as she had been for decades at the hands of politicians and systems that had turned a search for greatness into just that: a joke.

...he wasn’t quite certain that all of that came across, in the costume. Actually, somebody had shouted “nice crown princess man” at him, so he was quite sure that it wasn’t coming across.

Ah well. Some minds simply refused to acknowledge greater Truths.

Her words about convenience drew a little laugh from him. “Indeed they do! So many would find themselves completely lost; I don’t think they realize what a gilded cage convenience can be. How many of them would be helpless if you took away their Wal-Marts, hmm?” He smirked, sipping again at his wine, “yet they wish for simpler times.”

A nod, again, to the medical state, and really it was not the only advance. There were many upsides to modern life. “Very true, and even smaller things than that.” He tapped the rim of his glasses. “I’d be all but blind, a few hundred years ago.”

Well, someone with glasses would be, at least. His own were fake, of course: a decoy, a weakness that didn’t really exist, but rather was created to ferret out those who would target it.

Not to say that things weren’t blurry without the glasses. They were, of course, but everybody saw things a little bit blurry. That was just normal.

“Indeed they were,” he nodded with a grin. “Can you blame them, though? It’s really quite good stuff.” His smile turned a little wistful as he thought back on the days of his youth. “It’s the family business, cheese. Started out in production, moved into shipping as well, and my parents diversified even more, but they were never too busy to pull me aside for some cheese-based puns. Bit of a family favorite, those.” He chuckled. “Wallace and Grommit were pretty big in our house.”

Ah yes, the delightful nostalgia of youth. Not of reality, of course, no, but of the stories he invented in his youth. The imaginary family he dreamt up to keep him company during the nights, to support him during the days, to protect him during it all. The parents who weren’t there, the house that didn’t exist, the family activities that didn’t happen.

The nostalgia of youth.

He took a deeper gulp from his wine. He only made a little noise in his throat, half an acknowledgment, to her little query, whatever it had been. Something about her name.

She asked his opinion of the party, and he pushed some of the sourness aside, glancing around. He was alive, he had good wine, he was making some good opportunities for himself. What did it matter if he never had parents? Never played catch? Never laughed and rolled down a hill with his brothers and sister?

That stuff didn’t matter. What mattered was now, not then; what his life was, not what it wasn’t, what it hadn’t been, or even what it had been.

“Yes, it’s quite nice,” he nodded. “I’ve always found Halloween to be one of the more enjoyable holidays.” Under a costume, nobody knew you were an orphan. He drained his glass and produced the bottle again, to refill it. “The revelry and all that, interesting costumes. For a night, you can be anyone.” He grinned, although that was always true...but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable. “Fun, isn’t it?”

Turning to face her a little more directly, he raised an eyebrow. “And you, Althea - are you enjoying it as well?”