Participants:
| Scene Title | Friends in Digital Places |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Claire brings Mohinder some food and Peter gets in touch with Wireless. |
| Date | September 18, 2008 |
Condemned Tenement - Renovated Apartment
What was most likely additional storage or workspace has been modified into a modest one bedroom apartment. The floors are bare hardwood softened by the occasional throw rug in muted tones. Directly in front of the door, a kitchenette with a small stove, single sink, and a very old-fashioned refrigerator has been built in along one wall. Close by, a scrubbed oak table serves as both counter and dining table. To the left, a black loveseat and a matching recliner have been set up in front of a television on a glass-topped table. There's a slightly battered desk in the corner with tower, monitor, and keyboard tucked neatly into place. At the rear, an arched doorway covered with a thick curtain promises more.
Even though Mohinder obviously isn't going anywhere, Cameron hasn't taken any chances regarding PARIAH's most recent house guest. Locked in one the tenement's cleaner apartments, he sits on a pile of blankets and pillows with his back to the wall, a patchwork quilt draped across his knees and his arm in a sling — courtesy of Alexander. Having no reading material at his disposal, he studies the photograph he took from Mendez's loft the night before, his eyes dark and solemn.
There's a quiet knock on the door just before the sound of the lock clicking. The door opens to admit Claire Bennet, carrying a tray balancing a bowl of stew and a glass of water. "Hey. I thought you might be hungry."
A sharp intake of breath heralds Claire's arrival, and Mohinder's body visibly tenses beneath the quilt. He stares at her, dumbstruck, for almost a full ten seconds before cracking a small smile and opening his mouth to speak. "You'd be correct," he says in a low, hoarse voice, "thank you. I was beginning to think Peter had forgotten about me."
"Peter may have forgotten about you, but I haven't." Claire smiles faintly and closes the door behind her with her foot. It locks shortly thereafter. "I could bring you a few books. I just wasn't sure what you would want to read…" She sets the tray down in front of Mohinder and then takes a seat herself. "What do you have there?"
"A photograph," Mohinder answers, turning it over between his fingers so it rests face down in his lap — either so Claire can't see it, or so he doesn't drip stew all over it while he's eating. "Nothing of great importance." There's a pause, followed by a short stretch of silence in which he seems to silently contemplate his food. "Claire— Claire Bennet, isn't it?"
"Claire," she responds simply. Bennet is her father's name. Some days, she isn't sure she wants to claim it as her own anymore. "Is there anything you need? I can't make any promises, but I can do my best."
The surface of the door ripples slightly as Claire and Mohinder talk. It looks like the surface of a murky pool of water given its color, and through it steps Peter in a hazy mirage-like silhouette. He breathes in a deep breath after becoming something more corporeal, glancing back to it with one raised brow. "Cameron really needs to make a second set of keys…" Peter chides quietly, his gaze drifting over to Claire, then to Mohinder. Nothing is spared in so much as a welcome to either, and there's an anxious tension in the dark-haired man's expression. He makes his way — perhaps hastily — over to the computer set up on the small desk, turning the monitor on as he leans forward over the back of the chair, shaking the mouse from side to side to disperse the screensaver, "Have you seen him, by the way?" Peter glances side-long to Claire, "Cameron?"
Whatever Mohinder was about to say before Peter made his entrance, he ultimately decides against it when the younger Petrelli phases through the door and enters the apartment. He averts his eyes and gives Claire the slightest shake of his head to indicate that, no, he's fine. The only thing he really needed is within arm's reach. Without saying a word, and perhaps looking for an excuse not to engage in further conversation, he tucks into his stew.
"Can't you ever knock like a normal person?" Claire rolls her eyes, but smirks at Peter all the same. "He said something about… No, I'm not sure where Cam went off to. I can call him later, if you like." The brunette shrugs and turns her attention back to Mohinder, watching him eat expectantly. She must have actually cooked herself, rather than rely on Helena to do it.
While Peter and Claire chat, the monitor in the corner acquires a new feature. A plain little text window that pops up out of nowhere, occupying the top-left corner of the screen, with two eminently normal black text prompts centered against its white background.
| Username: Password: |
"Maybe," Peter says lightly in response, a crooked smile on his lips. While he's tense — especially considering what's going to be happening soon — there's something of a lighter mood to him than there has been the last few days. As his attention turns back to the computer, one brow raises and he eyes that prompt. "The hell?" The words come out with a bit of a tired sigh, and Peter rubs one hand over his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Finally pulling out the chair instead of just leaning on it, he settles down at the computer, rolling out the keyboard. "Password…" His brow furrows, looking to be at a loss for explanation.
Claire gets up from her seat and crosses over behind Peter, resting her arms against his shoulders as she rests her chin on the top of his head to read the screen. "What'd you do to it?"
"I didn't do anything." Peter says with a confused tone, leaning back in the chair, somewhat against Claire as she rests her weight on him, chin atop his head. "Look, there," He points towards the odd login prompt at the corner of the screen. "That's got to be Wireless, but…" He purses his lips in thought, "What the hell do I put there?"
"Does she have some sort of nickname for you? Maybe the password is PARIAH? Or strong and free?" Claire purses her lips thoughtfully. "You know her better than I do…"
Mohinder's hand pauses, his spoon halfway between the bowl and his mouth. It's a good thing he's using his uninjured arm to maneuver the utensil. If he wasn't, his wrist wouldn't be nearly as steady. "Is there a problem?"
"She doesn't do nicknames." Peter says with an awkward laugh, then glances back over to Mohinder, "No, no problem, just…" His eyes drift back to the screen, watching it with a puzzled look. Finally, he moves the mouse over and draws up the instant messenger program, despite there being no internet connection. A brief moment later, once it's booted up, he opens a blank window and sets the recipient to "Wireless".
| ppetrelli07: login and password? did you find something? |
Peter strains a sigh, watching the screen for a time, one hand coming to rub across his mouth, watching hopefully for a response. "Hopefully she's… listening?"
The response is practically immediate.
| Wireless: Pick one. |
"Oh, that's just spooky. She's good." Claire grins widely and leans over Peter, commandeering the mouse to click on the username box. She types in 'sneakypete' before hitting the tab key to enter 'jackofalltrades.' She raises her brows at her uncle. Pretty clever, eh? Eh? Of course, she hasn't hit enter yet for a reason.
Mohinder doesn't exactly have the best vantage point from where he's sitting, but that doesn't stop him from craning his neck and trying to get a better look at what's going on over there. His hunger forgotten, he places the spoon back in the bowl and sets it aside. Whether it's grumbling in protest or not, his stomach can wait. What's happening by the computer is far more interesting than what isn't happening in his digestive tract. "Who's good?"
Peter sighs again, this time perhaps a bit more exasperated, "She's a bit terse." He explains to Claire, cracking a smile. "Let's see how — " Claire's already typing something, and he just sighs one more time, just as exasperated, then reaches up over his shoulders to taps his forefingers on Claire's forehead gently. "Since you're not an enemy of the state, Mohinder, maybe you want to look at this too." Peter seems a bit more trusting as he turns to look over at the doctor, "We're about to see if all this is going to pay off."
| Username: sneakypete Password: jackofalltrades |
Peter scowls at he looks at what Claire typed for a moment, huffing out one last sigh. "Well, I guess that's better than nothing." Clicking enter, Peter leans back again, breathing out a tense exhalation as he opens and closes his hands tightly, "This is a friend of Noah's," He turns to look over at Mohinder, then back to the screen again, "The one I told you was working the information angle for us. Noah trust her, and while she's a bit… predatory, in her demeanor anyway, she seems competent."
With the entry of the login info, the IM window promptly closes itself. The login box, on the other hand, vanishes the name and password and turns itself into something very similar, with the addition of a 'logout' button at its bottom right.
| Wireless: That login is the only easy way to decrypt and view these files. Keep it safe. |
On the right-hand side of the screen, a progress bar appears:
| Downloading file 1 of 7… |
Claire immediately steps away from Peter at the mention of her father, if only to keep the tension from causing her to wrap her arms about her uncle's shoulders a little too tightly. "You'd better hope it's not another one of his misguided loyalties." She moves off to lean against the door, bracing a foot there and crossing her arms over her chest.
Careful not to jostle his arm any more than necessary, Mohinder climbs to his feet and moves closer to Peter and Claire — not so close that he's invading their space, but close enough that the computer screen is clearly reflected in the lenses of his glasses. To steady himself, he rests his good hand on the back of Peter's chair. He's a little too late to catch the username or password, though that's probably just as well. The fewer people who know it, the better.
"In the time I've been working with your father, he's never set me astray once." Peter comes to Noah's immediately, eyes still focused on the screen, "Seven files…" He murmurs to himself, leaning forward in the chair with a creak as Mohinder rests his hand on the back to steady himself. "This is, hopefully, going to be what we need to access Level Five without issue. If we can get even just a floor layout, that'll be perfect…" His hands fold in his lap, and Peter's attention is locked on the progress bar.
Though she's actually unaware of the spoken words, Wireless' subsequent comments follow an eerily similar track.
| Wireless: Schematics up to and including Level Five. They get progressively less well-labeled as you go; I don't know who is where. But it should get you in and out. |
| Wireless: Another file overlays camera positions. Major guard posts and shift changes. Keycodes are all but current, where they apply. |
"You don't know that man very well," Claire mutters. "Do you really think we can do this, Peter? This is big. I mean… This is Level Five." She's apprehensive, and understandably so. "And that guy… Are you sure you're really supposed to-" She sighs heavily and shakes her head. "Forget I opened my mouth. You know best, I'm sure." Peter always does.
Clapping his hands together, Peter broadly smiles as he sees the information come up, "Fantastic." His eyes flit back and forth over the information as it's downloaded, watching one file after another finish processing. He eyes the floor plans as they come up, one hand rubbing over his mouth in a thoughtful motion. "If Parkman warned them about us, things are going to be tighter. We're going to need to be even more cautious…" Looking over the data, Peter breathes out a heavy sigh. "There's absolutely no detainee information in here." He scans through a few of the documents again, committing the floorplans and shift information to the flawless memory inherited from Cat. "This is going to make team divisions that much harder. We'll need one group to focus on knocking out security…" His eyes narrow, looking at the maps, "And… at least two teams to search the cells. I guess we'll need short-range communication too, Lena's walkies or something should work."
Claire's assessment doesn't fall on deaf ears though, and he leans to the side, looking at her with a concerned expression. "If we can't do this, it's only a matter of time before Sylar breaks out, and we know what will happen then. If he gets his hands on the powers of everyone down here," Peter taps one finger on the screen, "We're all dead." His eyes turn back to the screen, scrutinizing the data more. "As for that man," Peter shakes his head in response. "I have no idea, Claire. We'll have to play it by ear…" He begins typing, brow tensed as he does, half distracted by his thoughts.
| sneakypete: thank you. we couldn't do this without your help. |
| Wireless: The info's only as good as the files it came from. And codes can be changed. |
| Wireless: They know you're after Walker; Parkman called Bishop directly Expect changes. |
"You're calling her Lena now?" Claire's disgust knows no bounds. But put it aside she must, because there's something bigger than the idea that her friend might have a thing for her uncle. Ew. "Don't worry, Peter. I'm sure you'll get the powers of everyone down there first. You've got the advantage there. And you're kind of, sort of invincible." Like her. Is he even listening to her? Claire turns her head away from the screen, frowning.
Mohinder, once again, is silent. There's more to be gleaned by listening to Peter and Claire's exchange than inserting himself into it.
Peter hisses out a sigh and runs his hands over his face, "Don't know who the hell Bishop is, but it seems like we've been made." His fingers run through his hair, shoulders rolling in the same motion to try and work out the stress. "Alright, they can't possible know about all of us though. At least we have surprise in numbers, there's no way they'll be expecting an organized attack by evolved." Peter begins typing again, a thought coming to mind.
| sneakypete: I'm going to need to conference with the others. can i reach you later to get rendezvous points with your people? i don't know how many teams of how many people yet. |
Glancing over at Claire, Peter arches one brow at her exasperation but leaves it at that, for now, there's really no good way to explain any of that to Claire just yet. "That's what worries me," He says quietly, "Too many people with too many powers…" He shakes his head slowly, "I'll do my best, that's what we all have to do."
| Wireless: You know how to find me. But I'll be watching. |
 September 18th: Make or Break |
Previously in this storyline… Make or Break Next in this storyline… |
 September 18th: Into The Dragon's Mouth -- Part I |