@ . nintendean

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"Sup, nerd!" Whisker pulls himself up by the arms of his spinny chair, barely managing to get into the seat before Nintendo pulls a shirt out of her bag and into his hands. He smiles, reorienting himself in his chair as she explains the scene on the shirt. A corgi wrestling a t-rex. Hmph. He turns his head to try and make it out for himself. It's a pretty, plain white tee, perfect to hang in his backyard shack– casa de Dean– his safe place. He wipes down the surface beside him, careful to keep any lingering dust from dirtying up Nintendo's new shirt. Whisker has been a fan of collectibles since he was a kid. His toy action figures from when he was ten line the shack's shelves, each one with a different name, color scheme, and storyline for the adventures he used to go on with them. The shirt is a nice touch to the abode if Nintendo is willing to part ways with it.

"It's really nice! You always know where to find the good stuff thrifting." He should know. Nintendo has bought half of his clothes since his fashion makeover when they started high school. Extra long sleeves (always with holes poking through for his thumb,) colorful shorts or plain blue jeans, and two pairs of sneakers: one black, one white. Whisker folds the shirt neatly, corgi and t-rex front and center, and puts it on the desk. They'll always be able to see it, especially as he plans for both of them to spend a lot of time in the shack.

"Right! That's why I brought you here, to show you what I did!" He shakes his mouse to reinstate the computer's signal to the screen. "I know how much you liked the Capitol and their vibes. You deserve to be famous like them." The computer buzzes and both of his routers blink blue as they charge up. He fiddles with the antenna. Everything needs to be connected. Everything needs to be perfect for Nintendo. She deserves nothing less.

"Someone, who is absolutely positively certainly not me, has been sneaking out some spare parts of computers and tech and has been building a computer that can hook up to the Capitol's Internet and their social media." He types in his passcode with ease: 6Cant5Strip4A3Cat2Of1Its0Whisker He points to the right side of his desktop: numerous applications of social media from the Capitol all in one place. On top of that, there are a few pieces of software, one created by Whisker himself, to edit or draw photos and pictures.

He turns back to Nintendo to catch the reaction on her face, hoping it's as priceless as ever. A million dollars can't buy happiness, but a quick dip in the cool waters of hacking certainly can. "We can make you your very own Capitol persona! You can be a total star from this very seat– oh wait! I'll be right back, don't move." Whisker jumps from his seat, the chair spinning behind him as he rushes out of the shack. He completely forgot the other gift he had for her.

He takes the backdoor into the house. His dad waves from the kitchen. "Is Nintendo here yet, Dean?" Whisker nods, grabbing his glass of water from the counter to chug it down. One of the few rules for Whisker's tech shack is that no beverages are allowed. Ever. (Maybe an exception for Nintendo… and if she's the only other person who's allowed in there… it's technically just a rule for himself.) A spill in the shack means everything goes to shit. He rushes to his room to grab the gift, which requires both his hands to carry. Dad whispers as Whisker whips by. "We should really institute an open-door policy for you two. My son and his crush!" Whisker pulls the screen door open and turns back to him, embarrassed. "Dad, stop!"

Whisker makes his way back into the shack, holding his gift. "I got you this, that way we can both sit together as we go!" In his hands is a second desk chair, all black with a cushioned back, in pristine condition. Initially, it was meant to be Whisker's since his chair is on the way out, but once he realized how legit his efforts to get into the Capitol's system were, he kept it for Nintendo. "It's really nice, no one's ever sat in it before!"

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The wheels on Nintendo's chair roll smoothly to Whisker's side, much to his liking. He opens a few tabs on the screen, typing in a few different addresses to the pages that he thinks they'll want to start with. Nintendo walks herself through the process as Whisker keeps going. He nods along, fiddling with the scrolling wheel on his mouse. The connection in District Three isn't as strong as it would be in the Capitol. Even though Three neighbors the Capitol, the priority of resources goes to them. Whisker knows that well enough from how much tech and energy is devoted to the Capitol. More is provided in service to their simple devices than to the bases that keep them afloat.

The first platform opens and Whisker presses Create an account. He picks up the keyboard and places it in front of Nintendo like it's the first dish of a three-course meal. Delicate, fine, and his pride and joy. This is the first wireless keyboard he's ever owned. From what he was told at work, one of the Capitolite snobs threw it against a wall after the tribute they bet millions on had died in the games. It was sent to Whisker's shop for repairs, but the request was canceled as they found a lightweight option to use instead. The fancy shit, with holograms and fun sounds whenever someone presses a button. Anyway, he took the base of the keyboard and scavenged for a week or so to get the keys. They were a mismatched bunch, hence why they're painted over in teal with white letters.

Whisker's nervous when she suggests that they'll be superstars… and in the plural pronoun. He turns red and looks in the other direction as if he hadn't heard that part. It's not his speed. He smiles, though as she suggests making a "Nintendo-Avatar" for herself. When it comes to building a brand, Whisker knows next to nothing. He's happy to provide the tech that she needs to do it. And it keeps him out of the spotlight. "You might have to come up with a new persona to do everything with. I bet they'd be suspicious if you popped up on their media. And they'd probably arrest you." Whisker rests his hands in his lap, leaning forward towards the desk. He tends to rock when he's anxious, and the thought that she could get caught if she's not careful does the trick.

"They have a few cartoonish character makers, but if you want to build a real presence you might have to make something a little more realistic. I have some software on there, pirated through some website that works on stuff called plastic surgery." Whisker taps his feet, looking over to Nintendo every few moments as she clicks and types away, to see if she's smiling. Did he impress her? Is she having fun? He wonders if anyone's given her a better gift than this. If they have, Whisker is already drawing blueprints in his head for how to upstage it.

"Or maybe… can I see the keyboard when you finish?" He waits patiently for Nintendo to move on to the next step and slide the keyboard back over. Once she does, he opens one more tab and starts to type in Nintendo in the search bar. He has to be quick, though, as Nintendo just happens to be the first thing that pops up in his frequently searched after typing in the N.

[sleight of hand for hiding the search]

i|FsdFOu1J1-20
[ 5 + 2 Typing Bonus = 7 ]

Regardless, Whisker bends the screen in her direction. "Well whaddya know, they have tons of pictures of you from the time you were in the Capitol. Including some good headshots! If you want, we could do some photo editing on these so it's still as much you as it can." In Whisker's opinion, she doesn't need a whole new avatar. Nintendo's pretty as she is! The photo editing would simply be to protect her. He hands the keyboard back to her to make whatever decision she wants.

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Whisker watches every stroke she makes on the keyboard. He knows the keys like the back of his hand, and if someone asked, he could probably recognize the sound of each of his keys pressing each button on a telephone. Perks of being a nerd with way too much time on his hands! Username… Nint3nd0Rockz. Password… Nint3d0Rockz1! He scratches the stubble on his cheek but stays quiet. Maybe they could have a conversation about password integrity some other time.

He's about to begin the face editing software when Nintendo completely clocks him on the search engine immediately recognizing Nintendo's name. Whisker stops in his tracks and stares at the screen with a blank expression. "Um…" He's clearly embarrassed. First, his dad pokes at his crush, and now his crush knows he's been looking at pictures of her. They've been close for quite some time. Maybe it won't seem too awkward and creepy if that's the case. Whisker splits the Internet and photo software onto two separate sides of the screen, dragging one of the happy photos of Nintendo into the editor. He swallows the nerves of getting caught practically left-handed.

"--so! Heh" He changes the subject rapidly, pulling up some of the brushes and cropping tools. "I did some photo editing work at my internship before they moved me to technology repairs. The people from the Capitol are really interested in attention-grabbing characteristics in the face." Whisker begins to tinker with some of the splashes, outlining Nintendo's hair and changing it a shake or two darker or lighter. "We can do shade changes, complete color dyes, ooh made we could do an ombre too." He says anything and everything to stop himself from stressing about what she saw. He crosses his legs in the chair, using his free hand to pick anxiously at the hair on his legs as well as the cuffs of his pants.

Whisker doesn't want to give Nintendo the wrong impression. He doesn't want to change too much. That would be like saying she's not pretty enough as it stands. Because she is perfect. Her smile, her hair, her clothes, it all gives him goosebumps. He shifts to a free draw after letting her pick out the hair color she wants. "I hear they have face tattoos sometimes, too. We could do something really simple." He starts to draw on the side: headphones, a vinyl record, a heart. But he's open to ideas, too. Anything she wants, he'll do his best to provide.