Room 307, Tuesday Morning
Upon finally returning to his room after a five-day vacation, item one on Topher's agenda was to stand on the inside of the door and just have a moment of dorkish glee. He'd been on a whole other planet! And it was awesome! And he'd gotten bitten by a weird giant bug thing and seen mostly-naked girls and half-naked Ben and Ender and almost crashed Ben's speeder, but it was all on another planet so it was awesome!
Once that was taken care of, he composed himself (though he still looked a little overenthusiastic) and started unpacking. He set Kenzi's present on the dresser, tossed his clothes and the stupid, stupid poncho into their rightful places on the floor, and then shoved his luggage under his bed.
And then his room was neatly in order (you know, if you were Topher), which left him to flop down on his bed and grab his laptop.
Specifically, the spybots. They were Peter's, and Topher had let them go entirely too long without repairs. He pulled up the feed he'd set up for Peter to verify that everything was working fine. It seemed to be -- and oh, huh, the faucets were dispensing hot cocoa, who knew? -- but just to make sure, he scrolled through the archives of old footage from the past few weeks.
And saw... wait, wasn't that the day the world had come back? Topher knew Peter was attached to his desk most of the time, but that seemed a bit extreme, priority-wise. Topher thought back to what he'd done that night, remembered seeing people all around the island doing the same things -- then nodded. Yes. Definitely extreme. That was far beyond any normal committment to homework. He had to be something else.
Topher thought for just a second about zooming, seeing just what exactly Peter was even doing on there, but then put that thought out of his mind. That would just get him into trouble. In the meantime, well, the picture quality on one of the bots looked a little shaky, so he grabbed the remote to call it over to him so that he could work.
[[Door is cracked, post is open. Spybots and stuff under the cut NFB, and obviously done with the permission of the marvelous lockestheway.]]
Once that was taken care of, he composed himself (though he still looked a little overenthusiastic) and started unpacking. He set Kenzi's present on the dresser, tossed his clothes and the stupid, stupid poncho into their rightful places on the floor, and then shoved his luggage under his bed.
And then his room was neatly in order (you know, if you were Topher), which left him to flop down on his bed and grab his laptop.
Specifically, the spybots. They were Peter's, and Topher had let them go entirely too long without repairs. He pulled up the feed he'd set up for Peter to verify that everything was working fine. It seemed to be -- and oh, huh, the faucets were dispensing hot cocoa, who knew? -- but just to make sure, he scrolled through the archives of old footage from the past few weeks.
And saw... wait, wasn't that the day the world had come back? Topher knew Peter was attached to his desk most of the time, but that seemed a bit extreme, priority-wise. Topher thought back to what he'd done that night, remembered seeing people all around the island doing the same things -- then nodded. Yes. Definitely extreme. That was far beyond any normal committment to homework. He had to be something else.
Topher thought for just a second about zooming, seeing just what exactly Peter was even doing on there, but then put that thought out of his mind. That would just get him into trouble. In the meantime, well, the picture quality on one of the bots looked a little shaky, so he grabbed the remote to call it over to him so that he could work.
[[Door is cracked, post is open. Spybots and stuff under the cut NFB, and obviously done with the permission of the marvelous lockestheway.]]