PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@zuckxrberg
❝ I’m gonna ignore the fact that I was most likely insulted, but people are liars either way. I don’t need social media to tell me to keep my distance. Not that I ever had one to begin with. ❞
"It wasn't an insult unless you are part of the lower half of the population. It was just a... whatever... thing." Mark hesitated and rocked back on his heels for a moment before carrying on "Any way it's not really about the distance. Live or online distance is unavoidable. But I feel like there's a possibility for genuine connection and inter-dependency in social media. Just think about the surge in awareness in recent years we're a far more informed generation and that's largely in part to social media. That a kid in Bosnia can be connected to a kid in New York and have his story and life mean something to someone he's never met. You can't actually tell me that's not pretty amazing. Two people who would not have met otherwise genuinely connected on a platform like Facebook to create something greater than either one of them were alone"
these streets - bastille
This man was friendly, and for that, she was thankful. She listened carefully to him. When he explained, it intrigued her. Helena raised a brow slightly before asking him, “A blog? I’ve never done that sort of thing before… How does one exactly ‘blog’?” she asked with a small smile.
"Yes, I do. At least I hope to." Helena had gone to college for quite a few years to become one, though she didn’t realize how much work actually went into getting ideas, getting editors, getting published, etcetera. "Lord of the Rings is brilliant. But I’m more into writing historical fiction… And witches. Not traditional green witch big nose, but wiccan women that live today. Like Practical Magic? I love them, and I’m huge with paganism. But I guess that’s the nerd in me coming out." she explained with a small chuckle.
"Well according to my last girl friend a person writes a blog in the dark when angry because they believe it's a shame if every one of their thoughts isn't documented... or they write because that's what the angry do these days" He shrugged. It had been a while since he thought about Erica herself, but her words still rang in his mind on occasion. "So if you go by that logic anyone can blog. I like to think I was more documenting the ins and outs of life as a source to a greater social connection... but maybe that's just me"
"I don't really think you need to worry about looking like a nerd. I just told you I liked Lord of the Rings. And I just met you." he shrugged "And I don't know a lot about pagans... outside of the ancient Roman and Greek varieties. But I'll take your word that people think they;re interesting. Anyway, that's what life is right? Finding some weird little something that makes us feel unique and then trying to make that something define us as something special? In the end... we all sort of want to be noticed." We all want to be important until it becomes so blinding that you forget who you were when it all started... but he didn't add that last part.
There were bags in her hands; dainty fingers holding onto medium sized paper containers as she strolled through concrete floors, quietly awaiting to reach her destination—home. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being outside, but places where gargantuan amounts of people tended to be were a lethal sign of mental exhaustion for her, considering that she wasn’t vastly used to walk around crowded streets. Of course, compared to her hometown, the current city looked like a brand new, populated world, even if it wasn’t as big as New York. Nevertheless, she didn’t complain at all. Lexine kept it all on the inside; quietly dragging her presence forward while chocolate hues stared up front. There wasn’t much to admire but the facade of buildings and the structure of trees; the air hitting loose strands of hair as a sigh was released from rosy lips. However, the focus she obtained was interrupted when her phone began to buzz; eyes widening as she attempted to find the mobile device with busy hands. Searching while still walking was definitely a mistake, for her body felt an abrupt collision against the figure of another, causing her frame to unbalance itself while she tried her best to juggle between the bags. Once she was capable to reach stability, she looked up with a worried glance, not being concerned about her phone anymore.
“I——I’m sorry…I-are you ok-okay? I apologize, I didn’t—” She surely hoped she didn’t cause the other something to be preoccupied about.
Mark supposes it was an odd, but he always felt slightly more guilty when he ran into a woman. It wasn't like he was overly bothered by disturbing anyone, but there was a slight twinge on the guilt meter when he nearly knocked a lady down. Maybe there was a gentlemanly bone in his body after all, and he could tell Randi to shove it up her ass when she called him later int he week.
"I'm fine" Mark muttered gathering his phone in his hands and pressing it to his ear quickly his eyes leaving the woman's almost as soon as she spoke. He called hello into it a couple of times, but evidently Dustin had hung up int he commotion "Shit" he nearly growled still looking at the now black screen, catching the woman's reflection in it and remembering she was still there.
"Oh. Did I break something of yours?" he asked. He could have an assistant get her another whatever it was later once he was allowed back int he office. "Also you didn't... what? you didn't exactly finish that sentence"
He was slightly hypocritical for saying so, but then when was Mark ever really worried about the same rules applying to him that applied to anyone else. He fidgeted with the phone in his hands wondering when it would be polite to press redial and get Dustin back on the line.
❝ Maybe if you’re a vampire. Don’t you think it’s better to talk to people face to face and not through a monitor? At least then you can tell when they’re completely bullshitting you. ❞
"You think you can tell when people are bullshitting you face to face every time? Everyone has a face for the world. If someone says any different they're a liar. So why not use the medium that lets you show yourself as you wish to be seen without all of the pretense of false honesty and modesty. Besides if you're worried about being catfished or something, all you have to do it not be a complete idiot one-hundred percent of the time. Two seconds of clarity are all you need in most cases"
❝ You don’t get out much, do you? ❞
"I sort of put the whole social experience of life online so that a person didn't feel like they had to go out... Going out seems counter productive"
I'm not sure there's a more horrible feeling than hour four without wifi.
Just throwing this up there... if anyone wants to play...
Verse Wanted
X-Men AU:
Mark Zuckerberg, as it so happens, is one of the greatest technopaths ever born. He can bend technology to his will with just a single thought. And, conveniently for him, his mutation is easily disguised (it doesn't hurt that he was a genius even before he started expressing). Physically he can blend in, and yet he still feels like he has never belonged.
Contracted by the US Government for his incredible ability (though unwittingly due to his mutation) he has created the greatest registration, facial recognition, and mutation tracking system (well outside of Cerebro of course) that the world has ever seen.
Little does anyone know that the genius Mark Zuckerberg isn't truly tracking mutants for the government... but working to find someone... anyone... to relate to. And, possible, a way to connect the rest of the world in the mean time.
Verse Wanted
Zombieland AU:
Mark was never good with people. Not the real live ones anyway. The depositions and court cases were proof of that. It becomes all the more obvious when after a summit in Columbus Ohio (of all places) the world comes crashing down. The president is dead. Fortune 500 companies are no more. The Zombies got Bill Gates for fuck sake! How Mark got out of the room, even he doesn't really know... but here he is. In a leveled city with only his notebook full of survival rules he's picked up along the way since he lost his ever steady code.
No one cares who Mark Zuckerberg was. Now he's just some guy from Columbus trying to make his way to the last place on earth he would have wanted to be before the world went to Hell. But, now, it's the only place he can think to begin again... Harvard. The place it all began the first time. And maybe, if he's lucky... He'll find who he's looking for even if he won't put that hope into words.
This is Zombieland... It's like a greatest hits album for nightmares.
Everything Changed
It was getting late. Dustin, well Dustin had disappeared a while ago. Mark doubted he was at the party, not now, he was probably in the building somewhere locked in a room coding and avoiding Mark like the plague he was. Mark hadn't even seen Chris show up, but he doubted that meant anything. The last few hours had been completely filled by code, the sound of his own heart beating in his ears because he didn't have the heart to turn music back on under his headphones and wide dark eyes he wanted to just forget already.
Tonight was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be good. Something he could be proud of, and yet here he sat, alone, with a belly more full of what ever drink Sean had put on his desk before he left than Redbull, and with no red-vines in sight. A million members. It should have been amazing, but it really, really wasn't. Sean had moved on to the after party (thank God) and the few interns still in the office were mostly trashed out of their mind.As Mark surfaced from the code he could hear them shuffling and making... other... noises.
Mark blinked and ran his fingers over the blue and white card he had found so funny earlier that night. Before the phone call from Sean. Before he had made a phone call about Sean... Before...
One million members. He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and taking the bottle he hadn't managed to forget from the corner of his desk before pressing save one more time and pushing back from his desk. The bottle's neck was tangled in his fingers and he swayed slightly as he stood. Half of its contents were already in his stomach and though Mark was no light weight, the alcohol seemed to be taking effect.
He wandered for a while before retreating to the upstairs office that had just recently been built for him. The office that made him look less like just your average hacker and more like the CEO he was supposed to be, the office he had managed not to set foot in yet, where he crawled under the desk and drank until feet appeared in front of him. Highly polished, professional wear that could only belong to one of two people. One of which had been escorted from the premises earlier that evening.
"Chris?" Mark asked knowing it was him. “Where is Eduardo?” Chris asked. That was a low blow. As if Chris didn't know. As if Dustin hadn't already told him. Mark didn’t answer; there was only a flicker of his eyes and a glimpse of I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it. Chris wouldn’t be so presumptuous to think that he could read Mark’s mind, but he knew something was wrong. He took a step back, suddenly feeling like he was cornering a frightened animal.
Mark didn’t say anything for a long moment.
“Shit” was the first thing his scratched liquor rough voice managed to scrape out. Then, he ran a rough hand over both eyes and took a hard sniffle.
It all seemed to close in around Chris then. He left he desk for a moment and closed the door gingerly behind him locking it for good measure as if afraid someone would suddenly walk in and catch a glimpse of Mark's humanity. Then he scooted down to fit himself under the desk beside Mark trying to appear casual and non-threatening. “What’s the matter?” “Nothing,” Mark said. He lifted the bottle “I'm almost empty.” “No, seriously,” Chris said, “what’s the matter? Why are you drinking in here? Mark, you're being weird. Weirder than usual… and where is Eduardo?” Mark bit down on his lip at Eduardo’s name, and Chris was getting terrible knots in his stomach. Mark turned his head and shook it a few times. Mark's heart was racing, soft wheezes of air escaped his throat, and it broke Chris’s heart. Chris instinctively pulled him into his arms and rubbed his hand over his back. For once Mark didn't mind the physical contact “What happened? Tell me.” “Wardo… He... He thinks I screwed him out of the company. He thinks I did this. Like he wasn't the one who signed the papers. Like he wasn't the one who shut the account, like he wasn't the one...” the words who didn't come out with me hung in the air unsaid but no less heard. There was a large part of Chris that didn't want to know anymore; he could already guess. He tucked his chin on top of Mark's head and squeezed him, starting to rock him slowly. Mark was trying to speak; his words slipped in between gasps of breaths. Chris felt sick to his stomach. He knew Mark was kind of an asshole, but he had been there on the other night like this. On the night Wardo closed the account. He never imagined something like this was going to happen, but he could also see Mark's point as much as he hated himself for it. Mark, for all his cold and asshole tendencies, wasn't actually heartless. To someone else, maybe, but not to Eduardo. Never to Eduardo. “I’m sure… things will be okay,” Chris said, though he was having a hard time convincing himself so. “What’s going to happen?” Dustin said. “What do you mean?” “I'm alone no aren't I?” Chris leaned away and stared into Mark's eyes. There was genuine fear there, and Chris wanted so badly to reassure him. to remind him that Mark had Dustin, and he had him... but neither of them were Wardo... and he knew that was the point. "It'll be okay Mark"
"You don't know that" Mark spat.
“I don’t,” Chris answered honestly. He pulled away and smiled at Mark, hoping maybe it could lighten the mood. “but you've got Facebook. You've got us” Mark blinked, his eyes glassy, he didn't smile. Chris gave him an encouraging shake and gingerly pulled him out from under the desk dusting of his... was that Wardo's jacket?
Mark sighed and shook his head. That was enough self pity. That was enough worry over Wardo. He looked up at Chris his blue eyes colder than before. He somehow felt years older than the boy he had been this morning. He stripped the North Face jacket off of his shoulders and left it on the sofa before looking over his shoulder at Chris.
”You're right. It's okay. I'm CEO bitch.. Right?"" Marks voice was cold and even as he left the office.
Chris's eyes followed him for a moment.
Even he knew...
Everything had changed.
Relief Next to Me || Tegan and Sara
Fashion - David Bowie (Scary Monsters; 1980)
You write your snide bullshit from a dark room because that’s what the angry do nowadays.