Hub Gathering Post

[coffee_sir]

It had happened again. Or at least Ianto assumed as he headed toward the Hub around noon that Friday. There was a general buzz about the place, the frantic flurry of people trying to figure out just how buggered they were by the island this time. It was a nervous tension, then added upon by glee or misery as islanders decided what to do with

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[one__song]

Judging by the dude arguing with some monkeys outside, Roger isn't the only one having a broke-down day. He woke up this morning feeling exactly the same he always did (maybe minus a little bit of joint pain, but chalk that up to complete inactivity the day before), but Dean had to show him something. Had to. It was important and pants were optional.

There had just begun to be rumblings about the internet a few years back before Roger had ended up on the island. But he'd never heard of 'wifi.' And while he was intimately aware of porn, he had not, apparently, known porn as Dean did.

Something like six hours later, Roger finally emerged. A few hours were whisked away on Angua's laptop inspected this novelty, but then Roger grew bored and hungry. But when Roger left, Dean said, the wifi stopped working. Dean said he needed the internet to be working

[zuckered]

He's on the search for a signal.

It only takes a quick trip to the Compound and back before Mark manages to find enough heavy cloth to pull together a series of straps that enable him to browse the net while still having full mobility. Already, the keys of his laptop are growing worn with the speed of his browsing, catching up on all of the news that he's interested around the world, reading about the latest devices and technology (that Spotify program is looking pretty cool, if he does say so himeslf), reading about the updates in his own life in the three or so years the internet allows him to look ahead

[one__song]

He's a dork, that much would have been certain before he even opened his mouth, but Mark was a dork too. And the fact that Roger's just referred to Mark in the past tense is really, really dampening his already murky mood.

"What?" Roger squints, a little incredulous. "Why?"

[zuckered]

"Because," Mark immediately replies, his voice a quick an impatient cadence- he'd tap his foot if it'd do him any good. "I think you're letting off a WiFi signal, and I want to test just to be sure. Normally, with all the chaos and craziness on the island, I'd ask you directly, but without a laptop or smartphone in your hands, I get the feeling you may not even have any idea of the amazing access to technology that you're broadcasting right now."

He pauses, a small concession.

"Correct me if I'm wrong."

[cool_coolcool]

When he'd noticed the guy from Zombieland walking with a computer hanging around his neck, Abed had whipped out his phone, just to check the signal.

That's how he found himself browsing Twitter, catching up on @anniesb00bs and @oldwhitemansays, checking his Cougar Town Facebook fan page (which he unfortunately couldn't seem to update) and doing a quick check through rottentomatoes, to see what he'd missed.

He didn't realize that he'd gravitated to a spot just behind a stranger at the bar, hovering just over the man's shoulder, his thumbs moving frantically over the keys of his phone.

[one__song]

The sound of the little keyboard can't be heard over the din of people freaking the fuck out in each of their own little unique snowflake ways. There were a few very calm strays, but by now, most of them had discovered the wi-fi, and he could see them closing in, steps at a time like creepy topiary in the book version of the Shining.

Yeah, that was one of the only books Roger had ever read, and he still maintains that the only reason he did was because his idiot bassist read it, and if he could have read it, anyone could have.

All of a sudden, Roger's suffocating on horrible irritation, and he slams back his drink as strides for the door. He doesn't stop until the Hub can be hidden behind a line of a few palm trees (mostly), and then he relaxes.

[cool_coolcool]

It's with a frown that Abed watched the signal on his phone drop away, an error page popping up when he tried to open the Greendale campus website. He walked a few feet to the left, then turned on his heel and walked toward the right, then spun another forty five degrees and walked toward the door. When the signal suddenly returned, weak and unsteady but still a signal--

You can't stop the signal...

--Abed gave a little fistpump to the air and continued out the door, where the signal only got stronger. When he ended up nearly on top of that same guy again, he cocked his head to the side and said, "Are you carrying a portable hotspot?"