OOM: Smallville
In the morning, Riley is settled into a circular booth in the Talon, his back against the wall and his feet drawn up onto the seat. His face is pinched -- with exhaustion, worry, frustration -- and he has a small, silver laptop on the table in front of him, along with his bigger MacBook (they're attached via a cable) and a cold cup of coffee. There was only so long he could work in Chloe's apartment before the lack of Chloe herself got to him, and before he needed some serious caffeine; he'd locked the door and come back downstairs hours before.
Bleary-eyed behind his glasses, he taps out a swift series of commands, first on his computer, then the other.
ACCESS DENIED flashes across both screens.
He exhales sharply and lifts his fingers under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
He opens his eyes. The commands are more complex, this time, as his fingers move across the keyboard.
ACCESS DENIED.
Again.
DENIED.
Again.
DENIED.
This, combined with some pacing and a whole lot of self-flagellating, is how the night (and morning) has gone.
Bleary-eyed behind his glasses, he taps out a swift series of commands, first on his computer, then the other.
ACCESS DENIED flashes across both screens.
He exhales sharply and lifts his fingers under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
He opens his eyes. The commands are more complex, this time, as his fingers move across the keyboard.
ACCESS DENIED.
Again.
DENIED.
Again.
DENIED.
This, combined with some pacing and a whole lot of self-flagellating, is how the night (and morning) has gone.