@ . nintendean

[MATTIO]

d e a n    w h i s k e r   

Whisker spins from side to side in his desk chair, hands on his lap and eyes watching the clock intently. Nintendo is supposed to be here in a few minutes. The key word in that sentence is supposed. Whisker's learned over time to be patient with his best friend, who clearly has a lot on her plate after the stellar performance in Saturn City's Panem's Got Talent. Opportunities like that to show off her personality and gain exposure to the world of stardom only come once in a blue moon. He gets it; fame comes and goes, but Dean Whisker will always be in his shed, in front of the screen and working.

He hopes that she'll make it before Mom and Dad call him back to the house for dinner. There's so much he has to tell her… maybe they won't mind if she stays to eat with us so we don't have to take a raincheck! So what if Whisker has to cut back so there's enough food to spare for them? He'd be willing to wait until a better opportune time to share his new inroads, but today is different. Typically, his software isn't anything exciting, and when he shows her, part of Whisker knows that she's only half paying attention. Friends will show up for one another and appreciate each other when it matters most, though.

He jostles with the mouse to keep his screen from going idle. A green start button sits in the corner of the screen. The software worked every time that he tested it over the past week, which is why he finally felt comfortable enough to tell Nintendo. And Nintendo alone. If his boss finds out that Whisker stole pieces of equipment and was using his coding and programming skills to do this, he's going to end up in more trouble than just losing his internship with a slap on the wrist. His creation is a security threat if it gets into the wrong hands. The Capitol stumbling onto this shed might mean that he may make a tragic 'accident' from the sturdy hands of a Detention Center's Peacekeeper.

…but that'll be worth it to see the smile on his best– his only– friend's face. The thought of her face lighting up upon starting up the program signal makes Whisker giddy. He gives himself a boost with the leg of his chair, spinning over and over as the clock melts from a circle to some delusional shape. She's going to love it.

Shapes and colors blur as he dizzies himself in the shed. The same things, over and over, just less clear. That is, until Nintendo's frame pops through the door. Whisker jumps up from the chair, "Hey!" and immediately stumbles onto the floor from the unsteadiness. "Hold on, give me a sec." He's on the verge of hurling face down in the shed from the overwhelming excitement. It's finally happening!

Hopefully, it'll all be worth it for a happily ever after.

[Deleted]

n i n t e n d o   j e n k i n s

Uh oh, am I late? Shit lol this is so embarrassing. 

And, y'know, so like me. I do it all the time I'm literally the worst, I'm always like hey I'll be there at 3pm and then 3 comes around and I'm still naked, in bed, eating hot chips. Life's about the little things though, right? What's littler than eating in bed and slowly rotting? I'm kind of in my 15 minutes of fame era, which is supposed to be the best thing that's ever happened to me - which don't get me wrong, it's been okay - but I haven't felt any happier because of it. 

Like, it's cool, I get to be recognizable for a little bit as the girl who DJ'd on stage with her dog, people take selfies with me in the streets and my notifications were constantly being blown up. But then everything died down and now I'm lucky if I get a "#NintendowasRobbed" in my mentions, and I don't even believe that anymore because how can you look at Media Miles and say I ever had a chance. C'mon, let's not be delulu. 

So anyways, here I am, powerwalking down main street trying to chase down a trolley. I swear, ever since the industry change our public drivers will look you dead in the eye and just not stop. Taxis are even worse, like, the prices have totally skyrocketed recently and I feel like I'm being throttled. Let me get this straight: I'm supposed to survive inflation off Peacock streams alone? No way! I'm going to have to get into like, retail and the thought of that alone gives me anxiety. 

I wouldn't survive a week- oh, I'd stab somebody for sure. 

Where was I? Oh yeah, running late. You see, I'm supposed to be at Whisker's house like- well, 3 minutes ago, but I stopped downtown and went thrifting 'cause a girl got paiiid this week. That's right, biweekly direct deposit, baby. I didn't forget, I just really lost track of time, okay? The whole time I'm on the trolly I'm seated between these two guys who both smell like flowers and I'm just like where are we headed, the Guys who Smell Good convention? I'm on my way for sure. 

Just kidding, I'm actually headed to Whisker's shed! Once I get dropped off near Eagle Street I just keep on powerwalking like my calves are gonna catch on fire and fall off. I even break a sweat like, that's how important getting here on time means to me. Hell, I need to start setting reminders or something, I just space out and forget what I'm supposed to be doing all the time. 

"Hey!"

"Heyyyy!"

That's my guy! I'm sorting through my tote bag while he's picking himself off the floor, Whisker's all brains and two left feet. I think he's so clumsy because he's always too busy thinking about what comes next y'know? Smart guy, I'm ready to be confused by what he has to show me, which sucks because I know it's really cool I just can't comprehend all the nerd tech that goes behind it. I tried learning once and it just wasn't for me, I'll stick to my remix boards. 

"Sup nerd! Here," I stuff the thrifted tee into his hands before he can say otherwise. "It's got a corgi wrestling a t-rex, tell me that's not a golden find." Also, I found these camp earrings of some meatballs but I'm digging through my bag and I can't find them anywhere, which sucks because I spent like, $4 on those bad boys. That's okay though, my mom always told me not to wear thrifted earrings because you'll get tinnitus, or thrifted hats because you'll get lice. 

"Anyways, what's up? What do you have to show me?"  

[MATTIO]

d e a n    w h i s k e r   

"Sup, nerd!" Whisker pulls himself up by the arms of his spinny chair, barely managing to get into the seat before Nintendo pulls a shirt out of her bag and into his hands. He smiles, reorienting himself in his chair as she explains the scene on the shirt. A corgi wrestling a t-rex. Hmph. He turns his head to try and make it out for himself. It's a pretty, plain white tee, perfect to hang in his backyard shack– casa de Dean– his safe place. He wipes down the surface beside him, careful to keep any lingering dust from dirtying up Nintendo's new shirt. Whisker has been a fan of collectibles since he was a kid. His toy action figures from when he was ten line the shack's shelves, each one with a different name, color scheme, and storyline for the adventures he used to go on with them. The shirt is a nice touch to the abode if Nintendo is willing to part ways with it.

"It's really nice! You always know where to find the good stuff thrifting." He should know. Nintendo has bought half of his clothes since his fashion makeover when they started high school. Extra long sleeves (always with holes poking through for his thumb,) colorful shorts or plain blue jeans, and two pairs of sneakers: one black, one white. Whisker folds the shirt neatly, corgi and t-rex front and center, and puts it on the desk. They'll always be able to see it, especially as he plans for both of them to spend a lot of time in the shack.

"Right! That's why I brought you here, to show you what I did!" He shakes his mouse to reinstate the computer's signal to the screen. "I know how much you liked the Capitol and their vibes. You deserve to be famous like them." The computer buzzes and both of his routers blink blue as they charge up. He fiddles with the antenna. Everything needs to be connected. Everything needs to be perfect for Nintendo. She deserves nothing less.

"Someone, who is absolutely positively certainly not me, has been sneaking out some spare parts of computers and tech and has been building a computer that can hook up to the Capitol's Internet and their social media." He types in his passcode with ease: 6Cant5Strip4A3Cat2Of1Its0Whisker He points to the right side of his desktop: numerous applications of social media from the Capitol all in one place. On top of that, there are a few pieces of software, one created by Whisker himself, to edit or draw photos and pictures.

He turns back to Nintendo to catch the reaction on her face, hoping it's as priceless as ever. A million dollars can't buy happiness, but a quick dip in the cool waters of hacking certainly can. "We can make you your very own Capitol persona! You can be a total star from this very seat– oh wait! I'll be right back, don't move." Whisker jumps from his seat, the chair spinning behind him as he rushes out of the shack. He completely forgot the other gift he had for her.

He takes the backdoor into the house. His dad waves from the kitchen. "Is Nintendo here yet, Dean?" Whisker nods, grabbing his glass of water from the counter to chug it down. One of the few rules for Whisker's tech shack is that no beverages are allowed. Ever. (Maybe an exception for Nintendo… and if she's the only other person who's allowed in there… it's technically just a rule for himself.) A spill in the shack means everything goes to shit. He rushes to his room to grab the gift, which requires both his hands to carry. Dad whispers as Whisker whips by. "We should really institute an open-door policy for you two. My son and his crush!" Whisker pulls the screen door open and turns back to him, embarrassed. "Dad, stop!"

Whisker makes his way back into the shack, holding his gift. "I got you this, that way we can both sit together as we go!" In his hands is a second desk chair, all black with a cushioned back, in pristine condition. Initially, it was meant to be Whisker's since his chair is on the way out, but once he realized how legit his efforts to get into the Capitol's system were, he kept it for Nintendo. "It's really nice, no one's ever sat in it before!"

[Deleted]

n i n t e n d o   j e n k i n s

"You always know where to find the good stuff thrifting."

"Of course! Iiiiiit's-" I trail off for a second thinking of the right word, "a talent! Ha," BINGO! There we go, I smile like I'm proud of myself. So a little reference if you didn't know: Whisker is like, really smart. He's the one who got me into remixing, so I have to thank him for my little five minutes of fame and my current job, even if it only pays for thrift store t-shirts. He's been my best friend since elementary and he's always been a little geeky, which is how it should be like, if you like something enough to geek out over it - that's a good thing!! Like, hello? 

You're really gonna be a hater because someone is, what, interested in something? Grow up. He used to get picked on for it but then I started standing up for him and now everyone thinks we're dating, which was so not the plan. We've always been best friends though, ever since that bitch Lightlynne Vox tried messing with him in the third grade and I threw a frog at her. I lean over his back when he starts type type typing into his nerd box, a computer he's built himself. My ear's completely his as he talks about the Capitol and I'm nodding along vigorously.

"You can be a star from this very seat!"

"You're lying, dude," no way, the first thing that comes to mind is how much trouble that can get us in. The second thing that comes to mind is that I don't care; that sounds fucking cool as HELL, double swear worthy. "Oh wait, I'll be right back," he says and I scoff like my life depends on it. "What! You can't drop this news on me and then just dip!" But that's exactly what he does, swiveling out of his chair and jetting out of the geek shack while I stand there with my arms crossed.

Well, this gives me a few minutes to snoop, I guess. Hey, Dean's the one who made the mistake of putting his password in and leaving me here unattended, knowing exactly who I am as a person. I double click on the browser icon and immediately go to his history, interested to see what he's doing in his spare time but all that comes up is router and config settings - ugh. Scroll, scroll, scroll; "how long to boil eggs," ew, "conchousness spelling," understandable, "how to be confident," aww wait that's kind of cute. Good for him, I think as I type in Atticus Manor Shirtless to spice things up a little bit. 

I panic close the browser when I hear the rattling of the shack's door handle, Whisker back now wielding a new chair. "Score!" Why is he literally the sweetest? Yeah, if you couldn't tell, my best friend's the bestest. "Aww, you spoil me, dude! Now let's get to work," I say, scooting up next to him and popping my knuckles. I don't know why, it's not like I'm doing anything, but I sit eagerly none the less.

"So let me get this right, you hacked onto a private network to connect to the Capitol and now we're going to be superstars? Are they going to like, see my face and everything?" I trail off and ponder a little bit the best way to go about this, but I'm so in, of course. "Maybe I can have like, a Nintendo-Avatar! And she can be a little cyber baddie," now, that's my speed.

[MATTIO]

d e a n    w h i s k e r   

The wheels on Nintendo's chair roll smoothly to Whisker's side, much to his liking. He opens a few tabs on the screen, typing in a few different addresses to the pages that he thinks they'll want to start with. Nintendo walks herself through the process as Whisker keeps going. He nods along, fiddling with the scrolling wheel on his mouse. The connection in District Three isn't as strong as it would be in the Capitol. Even though Three neighbors the Capitol, the priority of resources goes to them. Whisker knows that well enough from how much tech and energy is devoted to the Capitol. More is provided in service to their simple devices than to the bases that keep them afloat.

The first platform opens and Whisker presses Create an account. He picks up the keyboard and places it in front of Nintendo like it's the first dish of a three-course meal. Delicate, fine, and his pride and joy. This is the first wireless keyboard he's ever owned. From what he was told at work, one of the Capitolite snobs threw it against a wall after the tribute they bet millions on had died in the games. It was sent to Whisker's shop for repairs, but the request was canceled as they found a lightweight option to use instead. The fancy shit, with holograms and fun sounds whenever someone presses a button. Anyway, he took the base of the keyboard and scavenged for a week or so to get the keys. They were a mismatched bunch, hence why they're painted over in teal with white letters.

Whisker's nervous when she suggests that they'll be superstars… and in the plural pronoun. He turns red and looks in the other direction as if he hadn't heard that part. It's not his speed. He smiles, though as she suggests making a "Nintendo-Avatar" for herself. When it comes to building a brand, Whisker knows next to nothing. He's happy to provide the tech that she needs to do it. And it keeps him out of the spotlight. "You might have to come up with a new persona to do everything with. I bet they'd be suspicious if you popped up on their media. And they'd probably arrest you." Whisker rests his hands in his lap, leaning forward towards the desk. He tends to rock when he's anxious, and the thought that she could get caught if she's not careful does the trick.

"They have a few cartoonish character makers, but if you want to build a real presence you might have to make something a little more realistic. I have some software on there, pirated through some website that works on stuff called plastic surgery." Whisker taps his feet, looking over to Nintendo every few moments as she clicks and types away, to see if she's smiling. Did he impress her? Is she having fun? He wonders if anyone's given her a better gift than this. If they have, Whisker is already drawing blueprints in his head for how to upstage it.

"Or maybe… can I see the keyboard when you finish?" He waits patiently for Nintendo to move on to the next step and slide the keyboard back over. Once she does, he opens one more tab and starts to type in Nintendo in the search bar. He has to be quick, though, as Nintendo just happens to be the first thing that pops up in his frequently searched after typing in the N.

[sleight of hand for hiding the search]

i|FsdFOu1J1-20
[ 5 + 2 Typing Bonus = 7 ]

Regardless, Whisker bends the screen in her direction. "Well whaddya know, they have tons of pictures of you from the time you were in the Capitol. Including some good headshots! If you want, we could do some photo editing on these so it's still as much you as it can." In Whisker's opinion, she doesn't need a whole new avatar. Nintendo's pretty as she is! The photo editing would simply be to protect her. He hands the keyboard back to her to make whatever decision she wants.

1-20

[Deleted]

n i n t e n d o   j e n k i n s

I'm practically salivating when Whisker passes me the keyboard, finicking my fingers over its keys just to get a feel of it all. Oh, this is real - I'm going to be famous again! Well, if it works, I could put myself out there and fail all over again. This time though, there won't be Media Miles in my way - in fact, there won't be anything in my way. Mostly because it's all online, like, how hard can it really be? I look from the keyboard to the screen back to the keys before pecking in Nint3nd0Rockz into the username section. Yup, yup, that looks good, hmm... password...

"Yeah, let's try to avoid the whole getting arrested thing, okay?" I say with a nervous smile; I'm sure it'll be fiiine. I'm not even scared, if anything you're scared. I nod along while Whisker informs me about the avatar creation process, and all I can think about is how hot I'm gonna look DJing on the internet. He asks for the keyboard and I'm still thinking about plastic surgery, "mhm, mhm." I don't think I could ever go under the knife so this is perfect, it's like designing a whole better me that will never exist! So there I am, weighing the options in my head, cartoon vs realistic, when I notice he's been looking me up recently. 

That's awkward, I shouldn't say anything; I'm totally gonna call him out. I sit there with a shit eating grin the whole time he's showing me my Panem's Got Talent era. "Woah, I've never even seen some of these," I don't know why, but I've never really liked looking at myself. Like, seeing myself in photos just makes me cringe, especially seeing me boohooing next to the literal goddess that is Media Miles. I look like a big loser, man! That sucks, I slump in the chair until Whisker passes the keyboard back to me, perking up at the idea of editing my face to look like someone else entirely.

Or like, me, but better? That sounds good too.

I tab back to the profile creation, tapping my finger on my chin as I think of a good password. "Oh, I've got one," a total eureka moment passes as I type in Nint3d0Rockz1! before beaming proudly and clicking the create profile button. "Now that that's done, we gotta make the avatar, right?" Easy enough, except I don't really know what I'm doing in that department. Pretty much all my tech-knowledge has to do with DJing, I don't faceshape and all that, totally outside my wheel house. I pass the keyboard and mouse back to Dean as a shit eating grin grows on my face.

"Oh, so you've totally been looking me up, right?" I didn't even see it in his search history so it must have been a while ago. No shame!

[MATTIO]

d e a n    w h i s k e r   

Whisker watches every stroke she makes on the keyboard. He knows the keys like the back of his hand, and if someone asked, he could probably recognize the sound of each of his keys pressing each button on a telephone. Perks of being a nerd with way too much time on his hands! Username… Nint3nd0Rockz. Password… Nint3d0Rockz1! He scratches the stubble on his cheek but stays quiet. Maybe they could have a conversation about password integrity some other time.

He's about to begin the face editing software when Nintendo completely clocks him on the search engine immediately recognizing Nintendo's name. Whisker stops in his tracks and stares at the screen with a blank expression. "Um…" He's clearly embarrassed. First, his dad pokes at his crush, and now his crush knows he's been looking at pictures of her. They've been close for quite some time. Maybe it won't seem too awkward and creepy if that's the case. Whisker splits the Internet and photo software onto two separate sides of the screen, dragging one of the happy photos of Nintendo into the editor. He swallows the nerves of getting caught practically left-handed.

"--so! Heh" He changes the subject rapidly, pulling up some of the brushes and cropping tools. "I did some photo editing work at my internship before they moved me to technology repairs. The people from the Capitol are really interested in attention-grabbing characteristics in the face." Whisker begins to tinker with some of the splashes, outlining Nintendo's hair and changing it a shake or two darker or lighter. "We can do shade changes, complete color dyes, ooh made we could do an ombre too." He says anything and everything to stop himself from stressing about what she saw. He crosses his legs in the chair, using his free hand to pick anxiously at the hair on his legs as well as the cuffs of his pants.

Whisker doesn't want to give Nintendo the wrong impression. He doesn't want to change too much. That would be like saying she's not pretty enough as it stands. Because she is perfect. Her smile, her hair, her clothes, it all gives him goosebumps. He shifts to a free draw after letting her pick out the hair color she wants. "I hear they have face tattoos sometimes, too. We could do something really simple." He starts to draw on the side: headphones, a vinyl record, a heart. But he's open to ideas, too. Anything she wants, he'll do his best to provide.

[Deleted]

n i n t e n d o   j e n k i n s

Dean's all like, flustered that I caught him nerd-handed, and I think it's adorable. He stumbles with his words and goes to setting up the software, so in the meantime I'm pulling out my Nashe-pod nano. This awkward silence is killer, mostly because I don't know if I should fuck with him more or not, so I just start playing some speed up remixes I have downloaded from my system. "Let's get this party started!" I announce, dancing in my seat while he gets to work turning me into a mini-me. Dean offers me a few suggestions on where to start while I'm hitting the groove - god, I love this song! Where were we?

"Yeah, yeah- ombre hair! I've always wanted to see what I'd look like with teal, what'd'ya think?" I'm too preoccupied with jamming out to think too in detail; what can I say, I'm in the zone! I've always wanted to mash that one Lysander Mae song - you know, the one where she talks about heartbreak or something (so sad) - with that clip of the piano cat accidentally smashing out the Flickerman anthem. Did you know that cat died?! Omg I'm gonna cry just thinking about it.

He brings up the idea of face tats and I'm like, all here for it. It's something I'd never do in real life, but who needs real life when you have virtual reality, baby! I'm waving my arms in the air when the next song starts, "oh this one is SO good," I know he'll agree, he's got good taste like that. I think I'm a bit more techno than he is, but Dean's always backed my music journey 100%. He's a good one, a true bestie. I gotta calm down though once he starts drawing on my face - this'll be literally the face of my brand in the Capitol, so whatever I commit to has got to be good. 

"Hmm, no.. no, hmm," I lean on the desk with my elbows as he messes around until he eventually plants a moon on my cheekbone.

That's a keeper!

That's when it hits me, the vision: "so hear me out, moon on the right, sun on the left, right? And then blue eyes, and a bigger bottom lip," no offense to myself. If I ever got cosmetics done it would be lip filler, plus like, I think it's kinda cool how they look once they start to deflate after a while. Total celebrity look, and I wanna look like someone you need to know, "and then like, a lavender dye, the teal is way too dark for me. Maybe- OOO maybe a lavender bob?!" So sleek, so chic, I could never pull that off in real life. In the matrix, though, I can be anything I want. 

And like, I just wanna be me, but better? You get it!