DJ and the Geek Stick


julian_icon.gif nicolas_icon.gif

Scene Title DJ and the Geek Stick
Synopsis Nicolas visits Julian to offer help with the Radio Show.
Date February 4, 2009

East Harlem: Abrakebabra Turkish Cafe: Upstairs Apartment

The day is coming to a close, as is a certain radioshow. Julian takes off the earphones as soon as the mic switched off, setting them aside with a slight clatter and retrieving a pack of cigarettes, ones he rolled himself for want of something to do with his hands while he talked. He reaches over the desk of radio equipment to part the curtains and allow the fading light to add a little warmth to the rather bare space he's had given to him - wooden flaws, mustard-yellow peeling walls, and a general sense of disarray with incomplete furniture and general bachelor-esque messiness. At least one of the rooms holds a mattress now, that's something.

The apartment is upstairs a few stories from a lively little Turkish cafe on ground level, and Nicolas will find himself directed up by the Mexican owners, through the narrow stairwell and up and up to the one other door with, for some reason, a number 3 chalked onto the surface. It matches the directions he was given, at least. The door has been left partially opened, Julian expecting company at this time.

Nicolas follows the directions that were given to him to the cafe. He looks around and asks one of the owners for the location of the apartment. He then gets to follow the directions that he was pointed. Upon coming to the door, he finds it open and knocks on the door, even though it's open.

"Come in," calls a rough voice, and as Nicolas does, Julian doesn't bother getting up, pre-occupied with lighting up. He sits across the way in a swivel chair, just next to a corner of the room that has been devoted to this operation. A couple of computer monitors blink at the other man as well, and a haze of cigarette smoke is already starting to thicken the air. "Shut the door behind you," Julian adds, now looking over at him and getting to his feet. His voice is a mixed accent of Northern Irish and New Yorker, an aggressive combination that belies his casual smile and approach. He's dressed down in a hooded sweater, jeans, boots, and doesn't offer a hand to shake. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Julian. Find the place okay?"

Nicolas steps into the apartment when he is given permission and closes the door when asked… well, told really. He gives the room the once over before he looks over to the man and nods. "Yeah. I had some pretty good directions and the people downstairs was nice enough." He says to the man. "I guess Rupe told you why I was stopping by?"

Julian turns away once the initial introductions are covered, moving to flick a few pieces of dry trash off another swivel chair and dragging it away from the wall, sitting down on it and pointing with his cigarette to the chair he had first occupied in offer. "Sort've. He suggested you as a 'good idea'," Julian says.

Nicolas smirks and nods. "Yeah, well, I think that I might be able to help out with the show. With the overall mission that you're trying to accomplish." He says, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looks around the room once more. "Help you get access into more venues as well."

"Right now it's a bit of a one-man operation," Julian says, leaning back into his seat and peering at Nicolas thoughtfully. "Which is fine, I don't've anythin' better to do, god knows. Doesn't mean it won't drive me mental, and right now the most audience we're gettin' is the refugees." He takes a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke filter out between words as he continues, "Which is great an' all, but things need t'get bigger. What's your talent, exactly?"

Nicolas smiles as he looks back to the man as he speaks. "I do, what they call, Technopathy. I am able to hear, detect and the manipulate the digital, electronic and radio waves that emit from various electronic devices like computers, radios, transmitters and shit like that."

"That's a lot of words," Julian says, cheerily, mildly teasing. But he has to, on some level, know what the man is talking about. One can't be a broadcaster and not, and his expression shifts to something more calculatingly contemplative. "So let's see. If I was wantin' to gain a bigger audience, what do you propose you could do for me? It's 'Nicolas', right? Want a smoke, beer…" Julian glances about the place to see what he might offer the younger man.

Nicolas chuckles and nods. "It's the easiest way I can explain it." He says with a smirk before he answers the man's questions. "No thanks. I have my own smokes." He says, pulling out a pack and starts to pull one out to light up. "But a beer would be cool." He says before he thinks for a moment. "Well, I could spam the net with advertisements and such, interrupt some networks on the television, if within range of your show, I might be able to link it to the television. Take over a network or something like that."

There's a creak from his chair as he gets up, moving over towards the small kitchen that's as open to the main room as any other corner. When he opens the small, stained fridge, it shows that mostly? There is beer. A few take-away containers, but mostly beer. A bottle is pulled out and then opened on an attached opener, Julian walking on back to Nicolas and offering out the drink. "What about security purposes?" he asks, with a nod of acknowledgment at Nicolas' ideas. "We do podcasts too. I don' think even with your ability we can do much about IP addresses and the like, unless I'm mistaken."

Nicolas exhales the cigarette smoke after he lights it, putting away the pack and lighter. He takes the beer after it is offered. "Thanks. Security shouldn't be a problem. Before my powers showed up, I use to be a hacker, so I know the loopholes and the back doors. I know how to setup against shit like that. As for the IP addresses, I've never tried it, but I think I could cloak the ones you're using so that it's untraceable. Anyone who tries, ends up at like Homeland Security or something like that. But, like I said, I've never tried it." He says before he takes a drink from the bottle.

"I know Rupe's worried about your lot," Julian says, with a chin up to him. "People like what you can do trying to smoke this operation out for what it is. It's the only thing our little group has going that's public, y'know?" The more he talks, the more New Yorker his accent becomes, likely due to talking to someone of the American kind. Projection. He moves to sit back down, long legs crossing. "So I've been keepin' things tame, appealin' to wider audience and all that, but it ain't gonna do what we need it to do, you know? If you can do your bit in making me be heard while coverin' my ass, then we can get things movin' proper. Sound good?"

Nicolas nods his head as he smiles. "Yeah, I think I can do that. I'll do all that I can to make sure that you're not found out." He says before he takes another drag from his cigarette. "I'll look for a suitable ISP to change yours to. From there, I'll see if I can actually change it and, either way, I'll beef up the security."

"That's a relief, I'll tell you. Hang on." One booted foot pushes against scuffed wooden floors, Julian sliding his chair back over towards the cluttered desk. Pale hands dig around the things upon it before snagging the trailing attachment of a USB memory stick, offering it out. He does so carefully, gripping the end of the attachment strap so that Nicolas won't necessarily have to brush against bare skin, quick to let go once the man takes it. "That's got a week's worth of podcast on it. I've been neglectin' to put 'em up anywhere until I met up with you. Why don' you handle those 'til you work your magic an' I know what t'do to not fuck it up."

Nicolas looks at the memory stick, taking it as it is offered. He looks it over for a moment before he looks back to the man. "Alright. I'll do what I can with it. Any type of security I can put on it I'll do it. If anything, I won't post 'em until you are untraceable."

Julian stubs out his cigarette into an ashtray, and offers Nicolas a twist of a wry smile. "Peachy," he says. "Thanks for comin' by." A hand picks up his headset, turning the earphone so he can listen into it briefly before dropping it, a hand moving to tap something into the keyboard of his computer. "I need to wrap up here, but if you're ever bored, feel free to drop by. And hey," a glance, and a nod to the item in Nic's hand, "let me know what y'think."

Nicolas slips the memory stick into his pocket. "No problem. I'm just glad that I could help out. I'm sure I'll see you around. Even if it's just to let you know that I could or couldn't fix the IP, but I'll let you know what I think of the casts." He says with a smile. "It was nice to meet you."

"Aye. Nice to meet you," Julian says, with one last smile before he's back to focusing on his work. It'd be an ideal time to offer his hand to shake, but he doesn't, keeping them clasped and close to him. Dismissing Nicolas with a turn on his swivel chair, he goes to fidget with the controls of his station, picking up the headphones to hook them around his neck. Show time once more.

Nicolas drains the last of the beer as Julian turns back to the station. "See ya." He says before he turns and heads out, taking the bottle with him. He closes the door behind him.

February 5th: No Going Back
February 5th: Tapout
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