#he's a dizznee I couldn't have him /not/ watch every disney movie ever made

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Seven

Word count: 1.7k

Tw: food, Dex getting protective over one of his gadgets

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added / removed): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar  @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee

On Ao3 or below the cut! Other chapters can be found here

   “Ugh...remind me that five slices of Mallowmelt is one too many next time, Dex”

    “What makes you think I’ll a) be able to convince you to not eat the fifth slice; b) remember that far into the future; or c) care enough to warn you?” Okay, now I see his reasoning of why he thinks I’m Keefe. 

    “Fair points,” he concedes. 

    The conversation dies after that, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Like, really awkward silence. More awkward than my normal life. 

    I sit up to work on one of my human inspired laptops just to have something to do. I figure humans could figure it out and it seems helpful, so I might as well make one. Or three. The first one’s bad, okay? And the second was fun so I decided to make a third one. 

    On another mildly related subject, note to self: I don’t think reducing Wonderboy’s number of slices of Mallowmelt by one will help. Four is just as bad.

    “Dex?” Fitz asks. 

    “Yeah, Wonderboy?” I reply. 

    “Whatcha doing?”

    “Right now? I’m trying to figure out why the laptop won’t connect to the Internet because it was so easy last time and...Wait, is the Internet even on? Doot doot doot yeah it’s on. My iPod is still connected. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

    Meanwhile, I’m processing that someone actually cares enough to ask about the details of one of my gadgets instead of just saying ‘cool’ and moving on. I mean, Foster tries to understand, but she isn’t a Technopath and living with human tech isn’t the best way to learn about gadgets. They’re kinda primitive and somehow also really fascinating. I don’t wanna ask why. And there’s always still the fact that we barely see each other now, compared to before the Black Swan, Neverseen, and everything else. 

    My internal monologue distracted me from noticing that Wonderboy looks completely and totally perplexed.

   “Just say it again, but slower. And preferably in a language I can understand.”

   “Okay, so, humans have a thing called the Internet. It basically links all their computers together in a humongous network, usually by WiFi for mobile devices like this one. WiFi stands for wireless something-or-other and uses radio waves to connect the computer to the Internet. I’m trying to get this thing to connect to the Internet,” I explain, picking up and waving the laptop around. 

    I continue, “Then I started talking to myself, asking whether the WiFi was actually on, and checked my iPod to see if it was.” I pick up and wave the iPod around, just in case he doesn’t know what the name of it is. 

    “Did you try smacking it?” Fitz recommends. 

    I send him a look that is probably better described as a glare, that I’m pretty sure suggests, “Are you insane?” 

    Or at least that’s the goal. 

    Nevertheless, he continues, “When my Imparter breaks, I usually throw it into the wall and that fixes it half the time.”

    I snort. “Seriously? You’ve had to ask me to fix that Imparter at least once a week since Alvar’s tribunal. I literally carry around an extra one in case it decides to break again. And now you’re claiming that I only had to fix it half the time?”

    “Well, most of the time I did break it because I threw it into the wall in the first place.”

    “Why am I not surprised?” I sigh. “Honestly, I think you might be the best Telepathic Technopath ever.” 

    “Thanks, but do you have any other ideas to fix whatever is broken with the thingy?” he replies, completely ignoring my sarcasm. I’m a little hurt by that. I’m kinda functionally illiterate in sarcasm, so I don’t use it very often. But I’m getting better. 

    “Just because I don’t have an idea to fix it doesn’t mean I immediately go throwing it into a wall,” I snap. 

    “For your information, I never suggested throwing it into a wall. I recommended smacking it.” Wonderboy retorts. 

    “Is there really that much of a difference?” I ask.

    “For your information, yes there is,” he replies. 

    “For your information,” I mimic in his crisp accent, “You used that as a sentence starter the past two times you said anything. It gets a little repetitive, don’t you think?” 

    “Why won’t you try my method? What’s the worst that can happen?” he questions. 

    “I won’t try your method because you have a track record of breaking things and you aren’t a Technopath. The worst that can happen is the entire thing breaks and then I have to restart. And, before you ask, yes, I am aware I have two other laptops and I just started this one because the second one was fun.”

    “But you said I’m quote unquote ‘the best telepathic Technopath ever’—“

    “That was sarcasm,“ I interrupt.

    “—as I was saying, I’m willing to offer you a deal. I get to try my method of fixing everything, and if I break it accidentally, you get one unlimited dare.”

    Outside my door, Grizel calls, “If you don’t take that deal, Dex, I will!”

    “Not sure how you’ll do that but I’m not sure I wanna know. Wonderboy, I won’t subject you to that particular brand of torture. I think we all know it’ll involve lots of dancing and silver pants, so here you go. Be careful with my baby,” I decide, dropping the laptop into his lap. 

    I see out of the corner of my eye that Wonderboy is smiling, but I can’t tell if it is from me calling the laptop my baby or pure sadistic joy. 

    I should threaten Mr. Snuggles just so Wonderboy knows exactly how this feels. I grab a notebook and write that down for safekeeping. 

    Even though I know I’ll probably never see it again. I have so many different notebooks everywhere it’s probably going to get lost for a century, minimum. 

    As I focus on writing down my future Wonderboy torture idea, I hear a loud bang and an ominous small pop to my right. 

    “Did I fix it?” Fitzy asks.

    “Lemme check,” I reply, grabbing the laptop and opening it up. 

    I sign in, with my three-factor authentication—a DNA sensor, a password, and a human-designed fingerprint scanner—and opened up a search engine. 

    Yes, I have three-factor authentication. Just in case. 

    I glance over at Fitz, who is watching the screen in anticipation for my response, and say, “It worked, but before you get any ideas, I will not let you attempt to destroy any more of my gadgets for any reason, got it?”

    I stare at him until he nods and mumbles, “uh huh.”

    “Wait, on second thought, will you check how physically indestructible this is?” I ask, handing him a reinforced cache-like orb that I downloaded all the Lumenaria files onto after I made the Twiggler. And some other registries I’ve hacked into over the course of knowing Lady Fos-Boss.

    “I usually give gadgets to the triplets but this one has some...interesting information, and I’d like to see it again. Ninety percent of the time I’ll never see any gadgets I give them again, which usually isn’t a problem but I’d rather not have this one accidentally fall into unknown hands.”

    “By ‘interesting’ you mean illegal, right?” he questions. 

    “What do you think?” I retort back. 

    I continue, “It’s not too illegal. If it was, then Lovise and Grizel’s Goblin spidey senses would have already taken it away. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Sandor can sense it from here too.”

    That makes Wonderboy ask, “Back the T-rex up, what is a spidey sense?” while Lovise says, “It’s funny how they think we trust them,” to Grizel.  

    And I’m pretty sure Grizel agrees.  

    Anyway, she pokes her head in the room and warns, “Don’t make us regret that decision.”     

    This made Wonderboy fling my Twiggler-cache at her head and Grizel throws a palm-length dagger at it. I don’t want to know how she manages to react that fast. 

    The dagger hits the Twiggler-cache and shatters. One of the larger pieces embeds itself in the wall where my head would’ve been if I hadn’t ducked fast enough. The triplets have made my reflexes faster than you’d think. 

    The Twiggler-cache deflects the opposite direction and hits the wall with a fairly loud thunk. 

    “Well, it doesn’t look too broken,” I say, a little worried I’ll have to make another one.    

    Goblin steel is one of the strongest materials known. For it to shatter like that, the opposing material would have to be even stronger, or be hit with enough force that both will probably break. 

    Kinda like Foster and Fitzy in their first and only time they were paired against each other in an Ultimate Splotching Championship two and a half years back.

    Wow, was that really only two and a half years ago? It’s really been a long two and a half years now that I’m thinking about it.

    I stand up and walk over to my Twiggler-cache. I bend down and activate it with my password and DNA sensor. 

    “Well, does it still work?” Fitz asks, looking just as concerned as earlier when he asked about what I’m doing with my laptop. 

   “Luckily for you, the answer is yes. Don’t touch any more gadgets, though. There have been far, far too many near-death experiences today.” I respond, not even looking up from the Twiggler-cache. 

    It has a small dent, barely noticeable unless you run your fingernail across the surface. I’m not sure if that’s new though. 

    He waits patiently for a total of—wait for it—two whole minutes before he asks, “If I can’t touch anything, then what can I do?”

    Grizel sighed from the outside, “Dex, please do not let him sulk on the bed staring at the ceiling for hours on end. I made him leave the house so this wouldn’t happen.”

    I grab my newer laptop, for the sole reason that it’s the closest one. I sign in, and open up Netflix. Yes, I have a Netflix subscription. I’m a technopath and humans are interesting. Did you really expect anything less?

    It has some recommendations based on the movies I’ve watched before and it had a Dizznee—sorry, Disney—movie on there. I shrug and pick out that one, which, for any and all future reference, is named Brave, and drop the laptop into Wonderboy’s lap. 

    I turn on the sound and say, “We can study some human movies.”