Meaningless Diversions [Con-Soul Gaming - Case File 30 | Afternoon]

A twitching eyebrow betrayed Susan's irritation behind her grim expression. It was not something she needed to think over, it was a stupid game of tic-tac-toe, easily won from the first move as she had already done so. Last time she forced a draw to attempt to gain her tablet back but there would be no such luck this time. She didn't dare quit for risk of the repercussions and for any further information she could glean on this individual... and the hacker had been right about her. Despite her meek and timid nature Susan was incredibly stubborn and maybe even a little arrogant when it came to things she personally valued. Her next move came immediately, one-handed as she used her other hand to film the occurrence in its entirety. Susan was getting stared at in the hospital waiting room but she could care less. She was too busy wrapped up in stewing in her own thoughts, dreaming up plans of future endeavors to locate this hacker and arrest them. Her violent fantasies of kicking down their door would keep her occupied within her own mind, bundled safely within her own brain and away from the real world where she wanted to smash her tablet on the waiting room table.

Con-Soul would place her next piece down almost instantly. For a few seconds there'd be no reaction to the strange symbol that appeared, the girl seemingly having acted on habit and failed to notice it in the process, but slowly the eyes of the masked head would drift up to the blue hand resting above it and when they fell on it everything would stop. The waves of meaningless background text, the ability to place Pyro and Frost pieces, the (one-sidedly) silly atmosphere: for a while there'd just be nothing unless Susan decided to act. Should she wait through this however, the hare's focus would zip back to the screen, green text darting across the center of the tablet in an almost panicked fashion. The message bar would unlock in the meantime and Susan would find herself able to type and send words to Con-Soul through it as she'd been able to prior to the newly implemented restrictions.

For once during this entire exchange... Susan smiled. It was a soft, smug smile of superiority. Considering she had already lost and was at the complete mercy of the hacker and factoring in that all data on her tablet was forfeit and in the hacker's possession she really had nothing else to lose. Thus if Susan could not get what she wanted through intelligence she would attempt trickery. It took a moment of thought for her but she failed to consider that a brute force approach and leveraging resources could be a legitimate strategy. The Psyche Terrorist just happened to interrupt the wrong person's work. As misleading as it appeared to be the businesswoman adored horror movies and enjoyed a suitably scary film, as nervous as she was it was other people that made her anxious and things in the real world. Things like getting robbed or assaulted, fantastical scenarios were actually quite stimulating and the Extraterrestial series happened to be her favorite. That and ghosts, as she was attempting to invoke now.

Susan could not interact with the mascot icons at all. They weren't text, they were pictures. But everything else happened to be text and she could cover something else with it. The handprints were a particularly clever thought of hers: stipple art. Many periods joined together to make an intimidating image and the text was the icing on the cake. If this individual was a Psyche Terrorist then they would be aware of the horrifying nature of demons and just how unpredictable they could be. Who was to say one couldn't be living in cyberspace? So her last ditch attempt at regaining control would be to frighten the hacker. From what Susan gathered and what she already knew, this individual was in love with their own power and control and forcing that over others. Forcing them to play a stupid game for their amusement, making them do what they wanted for their entertainment. So she took that control away.

Just as soon as control was turned over to the chat box Susan would stop filming and place both hands on the screen, one to type with single and practiced inputs and another to prepare another illusion.

Lazee_Susan22: This isn't funny. Give me back my computer.

In the middle of her typing she manifested more stipple art of miniature periods and more ominous text, breaking behind the line to really sell it. For what it was worth... she was beginning to enjoy herself.

Soul Skill:

The already speedy text started rapidly scrolling across the screen as Con-Soul watched another print get placed down and received only a demand. Yet the pleas would draw to a sudden stop as it seemingly donned on the rabbit that they wouldn't get her anywhere; this game had become something entirely different, something far more dangerous to the unaware observer, and she wasn't about to tangle with (what appeared to be) another Psyche Terrorist just to get her side of the story out. So instead what'd happen was that the device would abruptly cut to black and restart. This time Susan would find everything back in order: no cyber-magic, no tic-tac-toe, no system alterations; everything from before was gone from the text files she'd created to Con-Soul's own tampering. Hell, she'd even find her spreadsheets just as she left them, although returning to the forums where she'd received the link from would reveal that the account she'd been talking to had simply vanished. There'd be no sign of it no matter how far she searched and ultimately the Cadet would discover that all that was left was a thread filled with her incomprehensibly replying to herself for pages upon pages. But there'd be plenty of evidence of the experience for her to peruse on the phone, something clear cut and undeniable to prove that it wasn't all some elaborate hallucination. Whoever this girl was, she was real... and if this was technically a loss than her victory was most assuredly pyrrhic.

Social Qualities Gained:

As soon as she began asserting herself the hacker began to back off. Curiously enough, they believed her to be a Psyche Terrorist. Understandable but naive, Susan had been a victim of circumstance this time around. Lucky her. But she had been fortunate in this regard, at least in some sense. She had not been targeted but she had stumbled across a hacker, which held some give and take on both sides. For one any adequate cyber menace would have her information and it would only be a matter of time before her identity was discovered, along with her standing. She could be targeted in the future. But on the bright side this Psyche Terrorist may have gone undetected for some time if this twist of fate had never taken place. It was... an uncomfortable position to be in for certain but the businesswoman was certain she could gain some benefit from this.

She clutched her tablet with both hands and held her breath as the screen faded to black, fearing it would lock up and this thread would lead to a dead end. But it had not. Everything would be returned to the way it was. Exactly the way it was. Perhaps a sign of acquiescence, Susan had expected all of her data to be lost but the hacker had fled rather swiftly. She wasted no time in flicking the wireless switch on her tablet so that they could not change their mind. The short woman would need to find out later what had become of this hacker and the trail she left but she was confident she could find something. Even the absence of something was telling, a lack of input here, missing time there, this could be figured out given time and resources.

"....fffffffnnnn...." Susan hummed a sigh and rubbed her eyes. It felt... some sort of accomplishing to have done what she had and be set toward a plan but she was conflicted, aggravated, and weary. She still had lost her tablet. Only a complete idiot would continue to use it. And her account would never be touched again. All her post rep, gone in an instant from a single meddlesome idiot that couldn't realize that actions had consequences. Susan would ensure that this would not be an isolated encounter. The rabbit had crossed the wrong person. She was stubborn. And she was dead set on finding this script kiddie poser and twisting their arm behind their back.

"Ms. Susan Groves." After her valiant service in the flame war to end all flame wars it seemed her wait was over. Susan squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes hurt, she was tired, and she was beyond done with dealing with all this troublesome anarchy.
"Ms. Susan. Groves." Her name was called again and she rose, but Susan did not approach the nurse calling her name. She began to walk toward the exit.
"Ms. Groves?" The short woman halted at the inquiry to face the nurse that called her name, a blank and fatigued thousand-yard stare boring straight through her.
"...N-no. Sorry." The businesswoman muttered the words as she pressed the door open and left for her car. There were more important things to attend to, this security breach was her top priority above even her own well-being at the moment. She would not seek to go to the hospital again for the same reason, two interruptions were enough and a third was ridiculous. It was apparent by now that there could not be much to help her in the realm of intensive care, her wounds were not life-threatening. She would have to live with the scar forming on her forehead and the discomfort in her neck.

Susan would then drive back to Seven Stars Academy for the second time that day, bringing her tablet and firearm nestled securely in her briefcase. The tablet would be given over to whoever was in charge of such things, likely Princess Serenity being the technological expert, and she would stop by the nurse's office to get at least the most rudimentary care for her injuries. Likely not much else but aspirin and ice packs but it was better to have those than nothing. Seeking it from the nurse's office or Class Zero if she must, Susan would not leave Seven Stars if she could avoid it, attempting to procure a cot and acquire some level of rest since she was no longer comfortable enough to drive with her level of exhaustion. Even if she risked running into her Captain of whom she did not wish to speak to at the moment.