So that's what all the theater at the beginning was about?
Wise levels Hugo with a look. Between his slim green eyes and the fact that he's still standing while Hugo is seated, it's quite the look. Disdainful, some would consider it. Annoyed, certainly. Almost pitying. It is a look that conveys the words How dare you? and You motherfucker in the same breath and in the same tone. In certain movies — never the sorts that Wise himself has liked — it is the kind of romantically-charged look of utter loathing that a plucky heroine might level at her roguishly teasing love interest before succumbing to sexual tension and pulling him in for a heated kiss.
Wise does no such thing, chiefly because Hugo is about fifteen feet away and looking very teethy on his couch. He is mostly irritated because he sees the scope of the scheme now, or at least he thinks he sees most of it, and he realizes now that Hugo has been manipulating him since the beginning of their conversation. It is less that he was ever afraid for his physical safety, and more that Wise is not a man who enjoys the sense that he is being manipulated. (Most people don't.)
...But fine. Whatever. The deal that Hugo is proposing is mutually beneficial, regardless of how he has attempted to sell and close it, and Wise quite clearly wants to do the work that is being asked of him. After a moment, he lets out a breath and relents. ]
...Take Belle out for some hot pot this week, too, and it's a deal.
[ It was never really about the money. Phaethon would not allow the Cunning Hares to be regular customers if money were truly a concern. It's more about the ask. All Wise cares to negotiate over, apparently, is 5000 more Dennies towards his sister's dinner plans — not even his own.
He sighs again and walks back to the counter where Hugo has temporarily set down his things. In the movies the young man is so fond of, the cinematographic thing to do would be for him to boot up that swanky-looking PC setup he's got, with its multiple screens and dead-silent fans and impressive monitor size. (Hugo might handle art pieces, primarily, but maybe he also has the keen eye to note that it's really quite state-of-the-art for a personal PC setup. It, of course, still pales in comparison to the actual supercomputer that the Phaethon siblings have in their vault on the first floor.) In a movie, Wise would pull up a large window, load it with infinite lines of code, tap at his keyboard with impressive speed until he magically isolated the data that Hugo, the movie's protagonist, has been searching for.
Nothing of that sort happens, of course, because real life is not a movie, and Wise is obviously not fool enough to plug potential malware into his personal network. Instead, he pulls out a burner laptop from his cabinets; it appears that he has several, but he doesn't comment on them as he closes the cabinet doors again and gets himself settled on the armchair near the couches.
He does realize that Hugo is the sort of man who appreciates a show, so Wise resolves to give at least some visual interest to the proceedings. He examines the thumb drive again as he boots up his laptop — looking it over again, no, there's no room for explosives in the device, not even any kind of self-corroding switch. Should be a purely digital battle to wage, then. He pushes the drive in, leans back, sighs, eyes closed. Rolls his neck, and then stretches out his hands, lacing his fingers together and pulling them backwards against his chest, and when his eyes flutter open, they flash an eerie electric blue past his dark silver lashes —
(Or — wait. What was that? It couldn't have been a trick of the light, it wasn't anything from outside —) ]
Make yourself comfortable. Even if it's easy for me, it's still going to take about fifteen minutes.
[ He doesn't even ask Hugo to elaborate on the matter of how he's going to address the physical security. Wise begins typing, not in the fast, rhythmic "fake hacker" pattern popularized by action movies — but it's a pretty steady pace, and he's fairly reliant on keyboard shortcuts. ]
And you should tell me up front what this actually is. It's easier when I have context.
[ Wise doesn't actually ponder the question of why Hugo chose him for this request over Belle. There could be many reasons, but all other things being equal, the only real difference between them, in Wise's mind, is gender. It's possible that Hugo is coming to Wise with this because he has determined, probably correctly, that Wise is better at keeping a secret, but the young man also just suspects that the matter is simply something which would not be appropriate for a self-professed gentleman to ask of a young lady. Not that Belle isn't herself familiar with what's on the dark web, but still. Could be snuff, could be porn, could be bad — and bad can be a lot of things. Whatever it is, he can stomach it — but it's better if he knows. ]
no subject
So that's what all the theater at the beginning was about?
Wise levels Hugo with a look. Between his slim green eyes and the fact that he's still standing while Hugo is seated, it's quite the look. Disdainful, some would consider it. Annoyed, certainly. Almost pitying. It is a look that conveys the words How dare you? and You motherfucker in the same breath and in the same tone. In certain movies — never the sorts that Wise himself has liked — it is the kind of romantically-charged look of utter loathing that a plucky heroine might level at her roguishly teasing love interest before succumbing to sexual tension and pulling him in for a heated kiss.
Wise does no such thing, chiefly because Hugo is about fifteen feet away and looking very teethy on his couch. He is mostly irritated because he sees the scope of the scheme now, or at least he thinks he sees most of it, and he realizes now that Hugo has been manipulating him since the beginning of their conversation. It is less that he was ever afraid for his physical safety, and more that Wise is not a man who enjoys the sense that he is being manipulated. (Most people don't.)
...But fine. Whatever. The deal that Hugo is proposing is mutually beneficial, regardless of how he has attempted to sell and close it, and Wise quite clearly wants to do the work that is being asked of him. After a moment, he lets out a breath and relents. ]
...Take Belle out for some hot pot this week, too, and it's a deal.
[ It was never really about the money. Phaethon would not allow the Cunning Hares to be regular customers if money were truly a concern. It's more about the ask. All Wise cares to negotiate over, apparently, is 5000 more Dennies towards his sister's dinner plans — not even his own.
He sighs again and walks back to the counter where Hugo has temporarily set down his things. In the movies the young man is so fond of, the cinematographic thing to do would be for him to boot up that swanky-looking PC setup he's got, with its multiple screens and dead-silent fans and impressive monitor size. (Hugo might handle art pieces, primarily, but maybe he also has the keen eye to note that it's really quite state-of-the-art for a personal PC setup. It, of course, still pales in comparison to the actual supercomputer that the Phaethon siblings have in their vault on the first floor.) In a movie, Wise would pull up a large window, load it with infinite lines of code, tap at his keyboard with impressive speed until he magically isolated the data that Hugo, the movie's protagonist, has been searching for.
Nothing of that sort happens, of course, because real life is not a movie, and Wise is obviously not fool enough to plug potential malware into his personal network. Instead, he pulls out a burner laptop from his cabinets; it appears that he has several, but he doesn't comment on them as he closes the cabinet doors again and gets himself settled on the armchair near the couches.
He does realize that Hugo is the sort of man who appreciates a show, so Wise resolves to give at least some visual interest to the proceedings. He examines the thumb drive again as he boots up his laptop — looking it over again, no, there's no room for explosives in the device, not even any kind of self-corroding switch. Should be a purely digital battle to wage, then. He pushes the drive in, leans back, sighs, eyes closed. Rolls his neck, and then stretches out his hands, lacing his fingers together and pulling them backwards against his chest, and when his eyes flutter open, they flash an eerie electric blue past his dark silver lashes —
(Or — wait. What was that? It couldn't have been a trick of the light, it wasn't anything from outside —) ]
Make yourself comfortable. Even if it's easy for me, it's still going to take about fifteen minutes.
[ He doesn't even ask Hugo to elaborate on the matter of how he's going to address the physical security. Wise begins typing, not in the fast, rhythmic "fake hacker" pattern popularized by action movies — but it's a pretty steady pace, and he's fairly reliant on keyboard shortcuts. ]
And you should tell me up front what this actually is. It's easier when I have context.
[ Wise doesn't actually ponder the question of why Hugo chose him for this request over Belle. There could be many reasons, but all other things being equal, the only real difference between them, in Wise's mind, is gender. It's possible that Hugo is coming to Wise with this because he has determined, probably correctly, that Wise is better at keeping a secret, but the young man also just suspects that the matter is simply something which would not be appropriate for a self-professed gentleman to ask of a young lady. Not that Belle isn't herself familiar with what's on the dark web, but still. Could be snuff, could be porn, could be bad — and bad can be a lot of things. Whatever it is, he can stomach it — but it's better if he knows. ]