[ Some days, Steve fears his grip on reality is slipping. It seems like a reasonable response to what he's been through, but there's more to it than that. He doesn't feel comfortable in this time, no matter where he is; he feels numb and detached, adrift enough to float away if the weight of the world didn't hold him down. And lately there's a new discomfort, but a familiar sensation— he keeps feeling like he's being watched. Someone out there is keeping tabs on him.
Maybe. He can't be sure yet, with nothing but a gut feeling to go on. But he could have sworn he just saw the cursor on his SHIELD-issued laptop move from across the room, and that's what it takes for Steve to finally break and type into the word processor (feeling insane while doing so): ]
I know someone's there.
[ If it's just his imagination, the response (or lack thereof) should confirm it. Steve stares at the screen, feeling taunted by the little blinking bar at the end of his sentence. ]
[ she's looking for something. the people at shield may be nice, welcoming, but they aren't her people. they're what stands between her and what she really wants — answers. information. about herself, about her past, about what dangerous plans they keep hidden in the dark.
skye's looking for answers, following rabbit holes and slipping between various hash-encoded logins, when suddenly the screen flickers. on the machine she's infiltrated, a word document opens. weird enough... but then words.
words that certainly aren't aimed at the writer. words meant for her.
shit. well. she could bail, of course, but something stops her. instinct, maybe. whoever owns this computer hasn't immediately hit an alarm or detached from the web server; instead, they've contacted her directly. maybe that's stupid. maybe it's smart. either way, skye figures she's already in this deep. might as well keep digging. ]
It's classified.
[ best way to convince someone to reveal their info? make them prove they're allowed to have it. ]
[ A bark of laughter escapes Steve at the absurdity of the response. He feels a little bit lighter now, reassured that he isn't completely losing it— at least not yet. But that makes room for another reality: he really has been hacked, and whoever hacked him is apparently up to discuss it.
He wonders if he should try to keep the hacker online so that SHIELD can trace them. He glances at his cellphone sitting on the nightstand; Nick Fury is only a dial away. Steve shakes his head. Maybe later, after he's gotten answers of his own. After all, who's to say it isn't Fury keeping tabs on him? ]
Classified like my login credentials were supposed to be classified?
[ in an alternate universe, skye is nick fury's digital assistant. in this universe, she's curled up in her bunk on the quinjet, furiously typing to whomever is assigned sgrog as a login. (should she have gotten a clue? yeah, maybe. but she's already pretty and talented, being smart too would just be unfair.) ]
Please verify you are permitted to access this equipment.
Even I know Microsoft Word doesn't run security checks.
[ Steve scoffs, almost offended by the hacker's estimation of his intelligence. He may not be the most computer literate, but he still has good instincts, and his intuition clearly hasn't let him down. ]
[ yeah, okay, be a pain in the ass. now she has to sound Professional (and hate it) ]
SHIELD has detected unauthorized access to this machine. Please confirm login credentials or your device will be remotely deactivated.
[ for #effect, skye begins to click into various settings. for a savvy millennial, it would just look like the matrix; for the boomers working in the playground, she imagines a little ms-dos and task manager looks far more foreboding.
granted, when one of the tabs happens to pull up a very classified photo of a youthful steve and his best pal, maybe skye shouldn't have clicked through so fast. ]
[ Steve's cursor shoots up to click on the red X at the top of the photo almost as quickly as it appears. His heart is racing for reasons he'd rather not dig into. Trips down memory lane take a lot out of him. ]
Quit bluffing. I know I'm authorized.
[ That's not exactly a flex, since most days Steve would give anything not to be authorized, not to be needed, not to be a symbol for a nation that lost itself long before Steve did. But it is what it is, and he highly doubts SHIELD would revoke access to Captain America. Fury wants too much from Steve to alienate him like that. ]
[ the entire conversation looks like a half-assed fanfiction being written in google docs. skye can't honestly believe it's still happening. she'd half-expected the other end to either slam the laptop closed (and sever the connection) or just panic and run away.
not buying the bluff just makes her feel weird. like now she's the one getting interrogated. not ideal. ]
What does it look like I'm doing?
[ scrolling through photos, attempting to open up email (does this person even use email? there's nothing here...), toying with the remote webcam settings. pressing buttons just to see what happens. ]
[ Watching the computer screen change is dizzying, and Steve's eyes strain to catch information before the screen changes, again and again and again. Even though his use of the laptop has been minimal, and usually work-related, it makes him uneasy not knowing exactly what has been compromised. But then, it's probably safe to assume everything.
That, however, is SHIELD's problem. And Steve is just skeptical enough of SHIELD not to call in this security breach immediately. This could be his chance to dig around SHIELD's secrets, as long as he can also keep the hacker from accessing anything that could endanger the public. ]
It looks like you're illegally accessing a top secret server. So what are you looking for?
[ she technically has some access. just not enough.
but there are too many dead-ends. it's like running a mouse through a maze, too many twists and turns for her to remember what she's navigated through and what remains unexplored. somehow, though, the skeptical-yet-curious face on the other end seems to have enough clearance to see just about anything skye's interested in clicking on. maybe that makes the maze worse.
it's not until she hits a folder called d whitehall that things get interesting. so much is redacted, blocked out, until johann schmidt — and a warning, a pop-up indicating the content is tracked even amongst those clearly permitted to read it, followed by a seize of the machine as its processors grind to a halt.
maybe slapping her hands into the keyboard isn't a good way to solve problems, but it makes her feel better.
or it does until the webcam on her laptop flickers to life, illuminating her to the other end through some stupid setting she hadn't meant to select. well, steve, if you wanted to know who was on the other end... it's clearly an intern, judging by the messy bun and ugly swag sweater. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Maybe. He can't be sure yet, with nothing but a gut feeling to go on. But he could have sworn he just saw the cursor on his SHIELD-issued laptop move from across the room, and that's what it takes for Steve to finally break and type into the word processor (feeling insane while doing so): ]
I know someone's there.
[ If it's just his imagination, the response (or lack thereof) should confirm it. Steve stares at the screen, feeling taunted by the little blinking bar at the end of his sentence. ]
no subject
skye's looking for answers, following rabbit holes and slipping between various hash-encoded logins, when suddenly the screen flickers. on the machine she's infiltrated, a word document opens. weird enough... but then words.
words that certainly aren't aimed at the writer. words meant for her.
shit. well. she could bail, of course, but something stops her. instinct, maybe. whoever owns this computer hasn't immediately hit an alarm or detached from the web server; instead, they've contacted her directly. maybe that's stupid. maybe it's smart. either way, skye figures she's already in this deep. might as well keep digging. ]
It's classified.
[ best way to convince someone to reveal their info? make them prove they're allowed to have it. ]
no subject
He wonders if he should try to keep the hacker online so that SHIELD can trace them. He glances at his cellphone sitting on the nightstand; Nick Fury is only a dial away. Steve shakes his head. Maybe later, after he's gotten answers of his own. After all, who's to say it isn't Fury keeping tabs on him? ]
Classified like my login credentials were supposed to be classified?
no subject
Please verify you are permitted to access this equipment.
[ yeah, that'll show them. ]
no subject
[ Steve scoffs, almost offended by the hacker's estimation of his intelligence. He may not be the most computer literate, but he still has good instincts, and his intuition clearly hasn't let him down. ]
no subject
SHIELD has detected unauthorized access to this machine. Please confirm login credentials or your device will be remotely deactivated.
[ for #effect, skye begins to click into various settings. for a savvy millennial, it would just look like the matrix; for the boomers working in the playground, she imagines a little ms-dos and task manager looks far more foreboding.
granted, when one of the tabs happens to pull up a very classified photo of a youthful steve and his best pal, maybe skye shouldn't have clicked through so fast. ]
no subject
Quit bluffing. I know I'm authorized.
[ That's not exactly a flex, since most days Steve would give anything not to be authorized, not to be needed, not to be a symbol for a nation that lost itself long before Steve did. But it is what it is, and he highly doubts SHIELD would revoke access to Captain America. Fury wants too much from Steve to alienate him like that. ]
How about you tell me what the hell you're up to?
no subject
not buying the bluff just makes her feel weird. like now she's the one getting interrogated. not ideal. ]
What does it look like I'm doing?
[ scrolling through photos, attempting to open up email (does this person even use email? there's nothing here...), toying with the remote webcam settings. pressing buttons just to see what happens. ]
no subject
That, however, is SHIELD's problem. And Steve is just skeptical enough of SHIELD not to call in this security breach immediately. This could be his chance to dig around SHIELD's secrets, as long as he can also keep the hacker from accessing anything that could endanger the public. ]
It looks like you're illegally accessing a top secret server. So what are you looking for?
no subject
[ she technically has some access. just not enough.
but there are too many dead-ends. it's like running a mouse through a maze, too many twists and turns for her to remember what she's navigated through and what remains unexplored. somehow, though, the skeptical-yet-curious face on the other end seems to have enough clearance to see just about anything skye's interested in clicking on. maybe that makes the maze worse.
it's not until she hits a folder called d whitehall that things get interesting. so much is redacted, blocked out, until johann schmidt — and a warning, a pop-up indicating the content is tracked even amongst those clearly permitted to read it, followed by a seize of the machine as its processors grind to a halt.
maybe slapping her hands into the keyboard isn't a good way to solve problems, but it makes her feel better.
or it does until the webcam on her laptop flickers to life, illuminating her to the other end through some stupid setting she hadn't meant to select. well, steve, if you wanted to know who was on the other end... it's clearly an intern, judging by the messy bun and ugly swag sweater. ]
Oh, fuck.