#💻 Age of the Geek »» Alec Hardison.

[himbohotel]

@learningtodie liked this

❛ You think this is easy? I make it look easy. Nobody else can do what I can do. No.Bo.Dy. ❜

[himbohotel]

rewatching the Snow Job, and the scene where everyone (but mostly Eliot) confronts a drunk ass!Nate has me wanting to make a headcanon about Alec.

Because he was so damn subdued. He wasn't even mad (or at least he wasn't showing it) about the money. He was quick to say that he "could" stop the money, still waiting on Nate's approval like a lost little kid desperate for approval and direction. When Nate says no, he doesn't push the issue at all. Which is rare for Hardison. He's never really that quiet about giving his opinion in any way, shape, or fashion.

When Eliot slams his hand on the table, there's a brief cut to Alec and he's shrunk down in his chair, hands folded over, a bottle of something clearly not alcoholic (his beloved Orange soda in a glass bottle that resembles a beer glass) in front of him as he glances over but doesn't say anything. Mind you, this is in season 1. The team still has issues; they haven't meshed well--but Alec has demonstrated his ability to be loud and proud and in this conflict, he isn't. He's silent like a damn churchmouse.

(his face when Eliot gets up to physically confront Nate is so heartbreaking omg)

Since he's a foster child, I can only speculate (because he's the ONLY ONE we haven't had any actual information on) that what caused him to end up in Nana's house might have been violent in nature. It would explain his tendency to avoid violence (usually by running his mouth)...it might have something to do with substance abuse, which could be a reason why he goes for orange soda and rarely touches alcohol (but also knows a lot about wine). At least more of a reason than "hahah gamer nerd fuel isn't that funny?"

I could be making a mountain out of a molehill, but I do like this idea and would like to play with it in future threads.

[himbohotel]

can you see how many fingers i’m holding up ? nate @ hardison

Alec flails, whacking away Nate's fingers from his face and squeezing his eyes shut. ❛ Somebody better get me the license plate of the truck that hit me. All the tickets. All the citations. I'mma make that man regret ever being born. ❜ He groans, touching the back of his head and wincing. If only he got his stuff rocked by a truck; nope, standard goon like some chump. And while his back was turned? Damn, criminals really don't have any sense of chivalry these days, do they? Who taught them?

When it no longer feels like his stomach's about to exit his body out his throat, he turns to Nate. ❛ Tell me Eliot got his ass, Nate. ❜

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❛ Ain't no way. Nuh-uh. Ain't no way. ❜

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❛ Waitaminute. Wait, wait--wait a damn minute. Did you just say 'ghosts'? As in...Casper the friendly? Like Activity-comma-Paranormal? Nuh-uh. No way. I ain't steppin' foot in there. Do you see this--? ❜ Alec gestures to his face. ❛ I'll be the first to die. And then what? Huh? I'd like to see you try to operate my systems. Ha! You outta your damn mind if you think for one second I'm dealing with the supernatural. Better get a--a--a damn cross or something. Holy water. A priest! ❜ During his tirade, he rolls away on his chair, still muttering furiously under his breath. ❛ You got me messed all the way up. ❜

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“No Stabbing Wednesdays, new tradition.” / Hardison

❛ And it's goin' good so far! ❜ Parker hasn't stabbed anyone with a fork in a while and lately, Eliot only used his knife skills to fillet a fantastic salmon that Hardison pointedly did not steal, thank you very much. All in all, Hardison is ready to chalk it up as a point in the win column for his team. Yay team!

[himbohotel]

@imacting asked for a Hardison starter

❛ Hey, hey, hey--! ❜ Hardison puts his hands up as his ears are suddenly assaulted with a lot of complaining. ❛ Whoa now. You got questions, I gave you the answers. In a timely manner, I might add even though I'm up to my shapely behind trying to decipher this code and create our new aliases and everything else I do for y'all. Just 'cause they ain't the answers you'd like doesn't mean I didn't do my job. All shootin' the messenger and whatnot, ❜ he mumbles towards the end, huffing as he whirls around in his chair to do damage control. Why's it always gotta be him saving all their ungrateful behinds? With a few quick keystrokes, he sets off a fire alarm.

❛ Happy? ❜

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@imacting

❛ Hey. Hey Soph-- ❜ After being up in thermosphere for way too long, adjusting to gravity is tough on the hacker. Case in point--he drops his tablet because his body still believes he's in Zero G & his mind expected the damn thing to float on by. He grimaces at the loud crash. ❛ Ah, shi--oot. ❜ He course-corrects so fast it's like he's on warp factor 9.99.

Man, he hates hospitals. The noise, the damn uncomfortable beds, the mushy food--but he just touched back down. He can't really push his body too hard.

But nobody said nothing about pushing his mind, so with that loophole fully cemented in his head, he's gathering intel on the world's worst wi-fi ever. ❛ I just sent over the info. The hard part's over. Breanna's got the rest, ❜ he says with a humble shrug. ❛ The docs said I should be out in about a week if everything continues to look good. Well, Peter Davidson's almost ready. ❜

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[himbohotel]

tags 1/?

:D

[himbohotel]

He doesn't know what to expect when Eliot bustles in. Like, at his core, he knows Eliot isn't going to punch him or-or put his hands on him...even if the hitter had threatened to do so multiple times before. The hacker knows that like a Ryzen 9000 motherboard--inside and out. Still, he can't help the instinctive stiffening up when Eliot steps into his office.

With a limp.

Aw, man. Well, here he is, feeling like the heeliest of heels. Alec deflates. Yeah, he's still pissed off and hurt about the whole damn thing, but he's not that damned heartless, okay? ❛ Eliot. ❜ He rubs at his beard, blowing out a breath. Without the buffer of Sophie, who has insight to the human psyche that Hardison wishes he had, or Nate--whose jackassery could rally them like nothing else, all he has is him. And he has to be enough for all of them. Communication is key and whatnot.

❛ Where are you goin'? C'mere, man. ❜ They got to clear the air sooner rather than later, and more than that, he's not about to let Eliot shuffle out of here like a kicked dog. With a small flex of his abs, he sits up and scooches over to give the hitter enough room to sprawl. Alec's got a first aid kit somewhere around here. He might not be a natural nurse, but it's surprising how many times he can get injured creating gadgets for the team. Burns, cuts--nothing major. Nothing to write home about.

Certainly nothing in comparison to what Eliot gets up to protecting them. A wave of some sort of fondness threatens to overtake him as he pats the couch cushion next to him. ❛ Sit. We gotta hash this out before it starts to interfere with everything. You're my friend, man. An--and I hope I'm one of yours, too, y'know? I just--I feel like sometimes my skills are taken for granted, does that make sense? I know I'm farther away from the action, but I'm still a part of this team, yeah? And hearing you say that you didn't trust me made me feel all kinds of ways. I shouldn't have walked off, but I needed space before I said something more I regretted. ❜ He takes another deep breath, feeling like he's just rambling right now. ❛ How long have we been workin' together, man? ❜

If Eliot noticed the gap between his knocking and Hardison telling him to come in, he didn't draw attention to it. Some things were not for him. Especially when it came to Hardison. Eliot was discovering that more and more.

Their worlds were very different. Completely different, actually. And they complimented each other. But sometimes Eliot felt like they were talking past each other, working past each other, rather than working together. They all were. And it was a learning curve. Eliot always thought that he worked well with other people. Or at least, he worked well in a unit. And they weren't a unit yet.

And Alec and Parker were not soldiers. Eliot was the only one that treated it like some kind of military unit, even after all this time. He could afford to remember that it's not really like that. Not with these ones. He cared about them.

So he waited until Alec invited him in. And he set the food down on his desk carefully and took a step back to give him some space. "'m sorry." A pause. "I do trust you. And I appreciate all the shit you do for us that we don't even see most of the time." All the aliases, the money, the costumes. Hardison had his hands in things that none of them really acknowledged at the best of times.

That wasn't right either.

"'ve been lookin' at it all wrong and 'm sorry." And that was all he wanted to say. Eliot wiped his hands on his towel and moved to limp back towards the door and leave him to his dinner. That was the least he could do to try and. Make up for being an asshole.

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The anger bleeds out into frustration which drains into some unknown squirmy feeling in his gut that's got him feeling all kinds of messed up. He prides himself on being emotionally attuned (especially out of the three of them), but it's tough. He doesn't have all the answers--as much as everybody thinks he does.

Knowledge is exhausting.

He's exhausted. He just wants to not THINK for once. So he falls onto the couch of his office with his Switch and boots up a game that won't require a lot of higher-level thinking skills. Ol' Reliable. Super Smash Bros.

&& yeah it would be more fun with someone around but he doesn't want to think about that, okay?

Kicking ass and taking names as Princess Peach works wonders, and he can feel his shoulders slowly drooping and every muttered insult makes him feel a bit better until he's laughing at the teenager who's threatening to doxx him with his squeaky-ass voice.

A knock at the door has him almost fumbling the round && he's quick to turn off the console & stuff it behind a couch pillow. He's gotta feeling about who's behind the door && he doesn't want to give Eliot any more ammo about his nerd habits.

There's a lot of things he wants to say right now, but he settles for a: ❛ come on in. ❜ Might as well get this over with. His stomach rumbles in the stillness. && get fed too, he guesses.

Eliot stood there for a moment, relieved of the soda, feeling like an asshole. Hardison retreated with his laptop. And his soda.

Maybe he should think a little bit before he starts saying shit he doesn't mean. Which is exactly what happened here. Trust wasn't the word. But it felt better than saying that he didn't want Alec and Parker doing a lot of the physical stuff because he didn't really want to lose them. Then again he supposed that saying that itself was saying that he didn't trust them to take care of themselves.

They'd been fine before he'd come along anyway. Eliot scowled after Alec, mimed grabbing at him but let him go all the same. Hammering him in an attempt so soothe a hurt wasn't going to do either of them any favors. He was frustrated. It was clear that Alec was too.

And worse than that. He was hurt. Eliot saw it in the way he shut down.

He clenched his jaw and hobbled into the kitchen. The one that Alec had picked out for him. Asshole. He could funnel that frustration into making something good. As an apology. Maybe open the door. Food always made everything better anyway. And when he was finished, he even knocked, plate in hand, to ask permission before admitting himself into Alec's space. "Dinner."

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❛ So what I'm hearing is that you think my skills are expendable--just a IT tech, turn it on and off again--yeah, yeah. Okay, El-i-ot, ❜ oh, the hacker is pissed if he's stretching out the hitter's name. Even the offer of orange soda ain't enough to appease him as Alec ignores the opened, rapidly-flattening drink. ❛ Who's gettin' the blueprints? Who's making up the aliases that can hold up to not one, not two, not three, but all levels of Alphabet agencies, man? Sometimes on the fly 'cuz y'all--y'all burn through them like them aliases come from the sky. But they don't. I do all that. I forge, I break through security, I distract guards so all of them don't breathe down your neck all at once, and if they do, I let you know right away so you can prepare. I designed this entire place to keep y'all safe. But sure, keep on not trustin' me. See where that gets you. ❜ He's angry, but more than that, he's genuinely hurt. How many times has he saved the man in front of him (yes, from behind a screen) only to have that same man tell him to his face that he can't trust him when the going gets tough?

Once more, Alec scoops up his laptop. He's got better things to do than waste his breath on a dude who still thinks he's nothing but a code monkey. ❛ Man, forget this! ❜ He storms out...before storming back in, grabbing his soda, and stomping out again with a muttered: ❛ I'mma take the damn soda. Best believe that. ❜

Eliot made a face and got up to follow after Alec and his newest love, Eliza. "I appreciate you! When the hell did I say I didn't appreciate you?!" But he knew, of course. He wasn't going to apologize for being a little grumpy, of course, but he was going to continue being a menace. "All I'm saying is that I make what I do look easy too, and now I'm walkin' around with a limp 'cause I can't actually trust either'a you to be able to do it. You tell me what to do with all that tech stuff and you know I'm gonna do it just fine." With mild complaining of course.

Okay. Maybe he was going to apologize. With a fresh orange soda from the fridge, cap already screwed off as he handed it over.

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Jaw agape and a tea-kettle noise coming from somewhere out of his mouth, Alec grabs Eliza and cradles her against his broad chest. ❛ Well, maybe you should learn how to dodge or somethin'! Ain't my problem. C'mon, baby, ❜ he coos to his laptop before giving Eliot the stink eye and sliding off his stool. ❛ Let's go somewhere we're both appreciated. ❜

"You think gettin' punched and kicked's easy? You wanna do my job? Nobody else can do that either." Eliot reached over and gave the off button on the laptop a solid poke. "Not so easy, is it?"