Issue 1 Downtime

The next morning, Cal (instead of being in the math class he didn't need) found himself in his room, looking through Server 3 to see what he'd gotten from Riot's computer. All right... process everything for malware and viruses, and time to look at what we have. Documents, pictures... net history... good. Process all net history and browser files for stored passwords and cached e-mail. Open a document list, let's see what that bitch was doing.

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Acknowledged.

There was an absolutely ridiculous amount of porn. For starters.

"And I... am not surprised," Cal sighed, sorting the porn (that he didn't already have) onto the apropriate server. Waste not, after all.

Once Calvin made his way through the porn, the disturbing stuff that he hoped that she downloaded for shock value, all the slash fictions she'd written (on all subjects, but Kay's webcomic seemed to be the current favorite), and general other paraphenelia associated with being a terrifying, perverted, shut-in, Calvin would get to what he was actually looking for.

A great deal of time and energy was devoted to two programming projects. Apparently, Riot had been attempting to write her own versions of the operating systems for the Danger Room and Cerebro. She had a ways to go, but was getting disturbingly close to the basic principles.

She was also working non-stop on her attempt to track down her mother, Jessica McDougal. From what Calvin could gather, Riot's mother had been a drug addict living in New Jersey when Riot was born (real name: Alexandria McDougal) and her father had been a dealer. There had been an altercation and Riot's father had ended up stabbed three times in her mother's living room. Riot's mother had left her with some friends and disappeared that same night. Riot ended up in foster care, constantly being bounced around. Apparently, she was obsessed with finding her mother, but wasn't making much progress.

There was a variety of medical information. Apparently, she had been born with a severe spinal problem of the sort of vague nature where a writer doesn't want to bother to research. Complications had caused a host of neurological problems, including weakness in one of her hands, partial paralysis of her legs and feet, and a stutter.

She kept a journal. It was a long, meandering epic about her everyday life, with posts every few hours. It was probably one of the most pathetic things Calvin would ever read, filled with comparisons of different sodas, rants about how much she hated her housemates, and long, winding, descriptions of the various coding projects she was working on. In intricate detail. There was 2,500 words about various patterns she imagined seeing in her ceiling.

There was a lot of passwords and usernames. As far as Calvin could tell, none had originally belonged to her. Even the ones she used regularly had been stolen. Her bank ID and password were available, but she had all of $2.14 in her account.

She had a webcam. Apparently she used it to troll people. Her favorite tactic was pretending to be a shy computer nerd and then flooding her victims feed with the sort of pornographic images that you pray to god no one finds arousing.

Her e-mail accounts were a mess. She never deleted anything and received a ton of spam. It would take years to filter through all her e-mail.

Cal sighed. "Jesus christ..." He didn't know whether to feel bad for this girl or to hate her.

All right. First things first.

Run a search for Jessica McDougal. Full penetration, get everything you can. Government databases, police records, hell get into SHIELD if we can manage it.

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Acknowledged.  Initiating full penetration search.

Second, facial recognition on... these. He highlighted any image files that WEREN'T porn, submitting them to the process.

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Acknowledged

Third, compress... everything, and send it to the Headmistress with the following message.

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Acknlowedged.  Compressing

After firing off the e-mail, Cal started looking for any more identifying documents, or anything else that could be used as intelligence.

Oh, and one more thing... take... these. ANd e-mail them to kaykay@gmail.com with the message "this is what magfangirl272 really thinks of your comic. Pathetic, right?" he thought, highlighting the fanfics of Kay's comic.

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Acknowledged. Sending.

...Oh, and send these to Steve's e-mail. Make it look like they're from his parents, he finished, highlighting a chunk of the shock-value porn.

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Acknoweldged.  Sending.

Calvin Strong wrote:"this is what magfangirl272 really thinks of your comic. Pathetic, right?"

From: kaykaygmail.com
To: cstrong@xaviers.edu
Subject: Eww

what the fuck cal?
shes been psoting that on my site
why the fuck are u raeding this crap

Kay Haddock wrote:

Calvin Strong wrote:"this is what magfangirl272 really thinks of your comic. Pathetic, right?"

From: kaykaygmail.com
To: cstrong@xaviers.edu
Subject: Eww

what the fuck cal?
shes been psoting that on my site
why the fuck are u raeding this crap

From: cstrong@xaviers.edu
To: kaykay@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Eww

You think this is bad? This is literary genius compared to some of the other shit she wrote that was on her computer. This chick is TWISTED.

There wasn't much to find. Riot's mom was a two-bit addict who had fallen off the grid. There was an outstanding warrant for her arrest, but it was a cold case by now. Most of what Calvin would find was Riot herself scouring the internet for her.

Not liking what he was probably going to find, Cal also expanded the search to any Jane Does in the morgue, filtering by the description of her mother that he had, and setting the search to start in an expanding radius of distance and time from her last confirmed location. He left that to run, figuring that someday it might give him a result.