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The tickets are distributed by maxihash blockchain; only those with absolutely kicking hacker rigs can ram the kind of bogomips to acquire the elite entryCoin, or those with the money to buy one from the elite. Of course, the rich posers are easy to tell from the true hacker pros. Their fingertips aren't swollen from rare earth magnets slotted in there with a rusty screwdriver or whatever; they often aren't up to date on the right fashion of mesh sleeveless shirt; they just don't have the look of someone who truly groks the Web in the way only people like you do. First step is the bouncer, Dave.js. You pull out your laptop and cryptographically sign a cyber-mailed inquiry to verify it is you, then you wait while the entryCoin is exchanged. This takes only like around fifteen minutes. Then you're in, to the most exclusive club with the not at all disgusting elite hackers of San Francisco, or as you call it, neoSanFrancisco - a San Francisco where the dim-witted, code-illiterate crowd are mostly successfully ignored. |
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Oct 5, 2018 06:24
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| # ? May 6, 2024 00:28 |
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Saturated in flashing lights and neon, you logically bubble sort through the rowdy, pasty techcrowd and make your way to the bar. The stools were all actually mounted Aeron chairs. The bar was a long touchscreen that displayed information about your drink and other random garbage. It was beautiful. The bartender had on completely awesome goggles that were lit up and had gears on them, and he had a dental grill on that said TECH on top and ROCKSTAR on the bottom. You scoff, certain that no service industry guy warranted that title, but you decide to hold off judgement just yet as maybe he'll surprise you. Opening your mouth to order, he holds up a finger to silence you. Touching the screen of the bar, a wordcloud association graph mind-maps all searchable information he can find based on your id. He nods, turning around to his laptop to collate the data with a deep learning algorithm. It produces the perfect drink for you: The micheloblent.ultra 10.2, a drink made up of equal parts soylent, michelob ultra, and ten point two times the caffeine of a cup of coffee. You nod appreciatively as he hits some keyboard shortcuts, sending a command to the 3d printer next to his laptop. It very slowly prints up a customized mug just for you, engraved with a UUID assigned on your clubID. A dual material 3d printer, very classy. After twenty minutes, the beverage is delivered and it leaks only moderately in the expertly printed glass. You turn to face the club, check out the entertainment and start figuring out how you're going to crank this party up til it's hitting the quota on all its vcores. |
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Oct 5, 2018 07:03
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i roll for investigate |
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Oct 5, 2018 07:40
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joke_explainer posted:The tickets are distributed by maxihash blockchain; only those with absolutely kicking hacker rigs can ram the kind of bogomips to acquire the elite entryCoin, or those with the money to buy one from the elite. Of course, the rich posers are easy to tell from the true hacker pros. Their fingertips aren't swollen from rare earth magnets slotted in there with a rusty screwdriver or whatever; they often aren't up to date on the right fashion of mesh sleeveless shirt; they just don't have the look of someone who truly groks the Web in the way only people like you do. joke_explainer posted:Saturated in flashing lights and neon, you logically bubble sort through the rowdy, pasty techcrowd and make your way to the bar. The stools were all actually mounted Aeron chairs. The bar was a long touchscreen that displayed information about your drink and other random garbage. It was beautiful. The bartender had on completely awesome goggles that were lit up and had gears on them, and he had a dental grill on that said TECH on top and ROCKSTAR on the bottom. You scoff, certain that no service industry guy warranted that title, but you decide to hold off judgement just yet as maybe he'll surprise you.  but it's cryptographically signed
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Oct 5, 2018 15:27
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Dungeon Ecology posted:i roll for investigate i roll to stop dungeon ecology rolling
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Oct 5, 2018 16:22
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lol
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Oct 5, 2018 17:46
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The club was poppin off last night - and thanks to my Double Robot, it's almost like I was there
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Oct 5, 2018 17:57
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God I hope I'm wearing enough finger armour...
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Oct 5, 2018 18:19
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Aw man, my good hoodie got stained. Now how am I meant to anonymously commit cyber crimes?
Stooge fucked around with this message at 18:47 on Oct 5, 2018
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Oct 5, 2018 18:35
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I start asking around for Zero Cool.
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Oct 5, 2018 18:49
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"hey admin" i shout across the technobar "give me privileges to drinkmenu.txt" a small list of synthetic drinks pops up on my ocular panel, each with a picture of some phosphor fluid in a fancy glass. nothing looks particularly good. "ill have a bsod sour" "Are you sure? Y/N?" the bar-tron queries. "Y" "Please review our terms and conditions before purchasing." "skip." "You must select 'Agree' to continue." "just give me the blue drink already." the bartron starts pouring a drink but doesnt stop after the glass is full. his face goes blank and is replaced with a windows update load screen. it could be a while before i get this drink... |
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Oct 5, 2018 21:07
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I read the thread title as "elite hooker club" and got confused when it was all computer stuff. Now I want to know what makes the most elite hooker club in san Francisco so special.
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Oct 9, 2018 10:39
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i havent even read it yet but its awesome so far |
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Oct 10, 2018 05:20
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joke_explainer posted:Saturated in flashing lights and neon, you logically bubble sort through the rowdy, pasty techcrowd and make your way to the bar. The stools were all actually mounted Aeron chairs. The bar was a long touchscreen that displayed information about your drink and other random garbage. It was beautiful. The bartender had on completely awesome goggles that were lit up and had gears on them, and he had a dental grill on that said TECH on top and ROCKSTAR on the bottom. You scoff, certain that no service industry guy warranted that title, but you decide to hold off judgement just yet as maybe he'll surprise you. perfection |
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Oct 10, 2018 09:37
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Is the owner a greybeard that knows COBOL |
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Oct 12, 2018 08:18
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I want to punch the protagonist in the face. Not the author though, who has clearly suffered enough already in dealing with people like the protagonist. |
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Oct 12, 2018 16:55
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joke_explainer posted:Saturated in flashing lights and neon, you logically bubble sort through the rowdy, pasty techcrowd and make your way to the bar. The stools were all actually mounted Aeron chairs. The bar was a long touchscreen that displayed information about your drink and other random garbage. It was beautiful. The bartender had on completely awesome goggles that were lit up and had gears on them, and he had a dental grill on that said TECH on top and ROCKSTAR on the bottom. You scoff, certain that no service industry guy warranted that title, but you decide to hold off judgement just yet as maybe he'll surprise you. lol |
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Oct 13, 2018 03:08
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evilmiera posted:I want to punch the protagonist in the face. Not the author though, who has clearly suffered enough already in dealing with people like the protagonist. uhh, well, he's actually extremely cool. Nobody can tell he has hair implants and people always mistake him for a 25 year old instead of a 35 year old, like, all the time. Besides, after a whole week of sixteen hour days, crunching code and slamming soylent and rockstar energy drinks, doesn't he deserve a night to let loose? |
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Oct 13, 2018 04:40
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sign above door that reads "PATRONS: STOP SMIRKING AND SAYING 'I'M IN' EVERY TIME YOU ENTER THE BAR"
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Oct 13, 2018 14:51
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FutonForensic posted:sign above door that reads "PATRONS: STOP SMIRKING AND SAYING 'I'M IN' EVERY TIME YOU ENTER THE BAR" me, everytime i enter yospos |
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Oct 13, 2018 16:26
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Following R3d Foxxx I get knock to the ground by the bouncer. "Where do you think you"re going kid, this room's for the promised ones. Get outta here!" Rats. Now what do I do? Back at the dance floor I meet up with Kila Blntz. "K, the target's slid behind a firewall, I think we need to implement swisstroninja34.exe" "W33dl0rd, thats suicide!" "This is the moment you were programed for Kila, execute." "Bu" "Stop. You are the only one who knows how. You must do it." "Yes, my l0rd." "DM SkwuidPPudding let him know swisstroninja34.exe is a go, have him pull a visual on the bouncers." "Got 'em" "Now, on the third drop of Sandstorm, we strike." dudududuudu dududuud dududududududuudududududu uddududududududuududdudududududududududu dudududududududududududududud A drop of sweat hit my left love handle. uddu dudududdudu dududud dududud dududududududududdududududududududdudududud dududududududududududdudududuudu dududuud dududududududuudududududu Kila dashes for the bar while Skwuid overrode the PA with the one true message. Drawing the gaze of the most influential gurus in the biz, Kila leapt onto the bar disrobing his hoodie and dropping trow revealing his rear end to the crowd. "Hello World!" blared over the speakers. The diversion was perfect. In the confusion I slipped right by the bouncers and made it. In almost no time I spot Foxxx. But it's worse than I imagined. |
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Oct 13, 2018 19:59
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hacker 1: did you go that elite hacker club in san francisco? [laugh track] hacker 2: the bouncer wouldn't let me in. they said i was underage [laugh track] hacker 1: you didn't show them your ID? [laugh track, extended variant] hacker 2: I showed them my .bash_profile, but they thought it was using an alias [mournful, resigned weeping track]
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Oct 14, 2018 06:34
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FutonForensic posted:hacker 1: did you go that elite hacker club in san francisco? [laugh track] |
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Oct 14, 2018 15:20
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hacking the mainframe of the l33t coder bar and diverting the soylent delivery drones to my apartment |
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Oct 14, 2018 17:03
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"S00n *1* w177 h4v3 477 th3 s0y73nt," I say to myself hackerly |
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Oct 14, 2018 17:05
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Outside the sky was the color of YouTube set to a deactivated channel. My Ono-Sendai custom upgrades to my Magic Leap goggles showed all the digital trash on the streets, next to and on top of the human poop and used syringes. I exchanged glances with the bouncer, who'd seen me almost every night for the past 10 years. poo poo, he even saved my life once when I was jacked in and got a little too deep into the Apple cloud, triggering iHunter iKiller deathware. But tonight he stopped me. "I'm gonna need to see your ID," he said. "Mitch," I said, you know me. What the gently caress?" But I pulled it out anyway. "You can't come in," he said. "Why the gently caress not?" I asked. "Your age. You're over age," Mitch said. "When you hit 30 you're washed up in this game, man. You're old. Too old to be elite. Sure, you can go to Seattle and maybe still crack a few jobs. But that poo poo ain't elite, not if you aren't around here."
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Oct 17, 2018 05:40
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Bacon Taco posted:Outside the sky was the color of YouTube set to a deactivated channel. My Ono-Sendai custom upgrades to my Magic Leap goggles showed all the digital trash on the streets, next to and on top of the human poop and used syringes. I exchanged glances with the bouncer, who'd seen me almost every night for the past 10 years. poo poo, he even saved my life once when I was jacked in and got a little too deep into the Apple cloud, triggering iHunter iKiller deathware. But tonight he stopped me. "I'm gonna need to see your ID," he said. "Mitch," I said, you know me. What the gently caress?" But I pulled it out anyway. "You can't come in," he said. "Why the gently caress not?" I asked. "Your age. You're over age," Mitch said. "When you hit 30 you're washed up in this game, man. You're old. Too old to be elite. Sure, you can go to Seattle and maybe still crack a few jobs. But that poo poo ain't elite, not if you aren't around here." perfection |
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Oct 17, 2018 06:36
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They say cyberspace is like a battlefield - and I was no soldier. They call me junk, because that's what I do. Both the drug and the resale of expired computers, Android's, cyberstomachs, you name it. The mailbot flew by today and I held my first piece of genuine tree paper complete with actual ink. The club was called Peer to Peer. "Junk." I mumbled to the bouncer. "Suits you." He sneered, checking his cybereye monitor for a facial match. He waved me in. The bathroom was just far enough away to give me anxiety. I needed a jolt or I'd power down. The purple glitter looked way to jagged to snort but it was a trick of the eye. This was the best spice on Venus. Ten seconds later I noticed that every stall was occupied, not with bio-refusers but with goons. One held a Luiosville Combat Bat. His full screen face mask displayed an image: 
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Oct 17, 2018 18:33
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WindmillSlayer posted:They say cyberspace is like a battlefield - and I was no soldier. They call me junk, because that's what I do. Both the drug and the resale of expired computers, Android's, cyberstomachs, you name it. The mailbot flew by today and I held my first piece of genuine tree paper complete with actual ink. |
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Oct 17, 2018 18:38
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sometimes you hack the bar, and sometimes, well, it hacks you |
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Oct 17, 2018 18:43
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Bacon Taco posted:Outside the sky was the color of YouTube set to a deactivated channel. My Ono-Sendai custom upgrades to my Magic Leap goggles showed all the digital trash on the streets, next to and on top of the human poop and used syringes. I exchanged glances with the bouncer, who'd seen me almost every night for the past 10 years. poo poo, he even saved my life once when I was jacked in and got a little too deep into the Apple cloud, triggering iHunter iKiller deathware. But tonight he stopped me. "I'm gonna need to see your ID," he said. "Mitch," I said, you know me. What the gently caress?" But I pulled it out anyway. "You can't come in," he said. "Why the gently caress not?" I asked. "Your age. You're over age," Mitch said. "When you hit 30 you're washed up in this game, man. You're old. Too old to be elite. Sure, you can go to Seattle and maybe still crack a few jobs. But that poo poo ain't elite, not if you aren't around here." SciFiDownBeat posted:sometimes you hack the bar, and sometimes, well, it hacks you
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Oct 17, 2018 22:08
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Oct 18, 2018 00:09
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Bacon Taco posted:Outside the sky was the color of YouTube set to a deactivated channel. My Ono-Sendai custom upgrades to my Magic Leap goggles showed all the digital trash on the streets, next to and on top of the human poop and used syringes. I exchanged glances with the bouncer, who'd seen me almost every night for the past 10 years. poo poo, he even saved my life once when I was jacked in and got a little too deep into the Apple cloud, triggering iHunter iKiller deathware. But tonight he stopped me. "I'm gonna need to see your ID," he said. "Mitch," I said, you know me. What the gently caress?" But I pulled it out anyway. "You can't come in," he said. "Why the gently caress not?" I asked. "Your age. You're over age," Mitch said. "When you hit 30 you're washed up in this game, man. You're old. Too old to be elite. Sure, you can go to Seattle and maybe still crack a few jobs. But that poo poo ain't elite, not if you aren't around here." WindmillSlayer posted:They say cyberspace is like a battlefield - and I was no soldier. They call me junk, because that's what I do. Both the drug and the resale of expired computers, Android's, cyberstomachs, you name it. The mailbot flew by today and I held my first piece of genuine tree paper complete with actual ink. |
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Oct 18, 2018 03:56
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the neo-darknet is a vile hive of scum an villainy, where the darkest of desires are fulfilled and anything is up for sale it is also where i will find my price my biomechanical fingers operate the keyboard at superhuman speed and precision i effortlessly hack down scores of firewalls my command of the cyber wasteland is unmatched at last i activate my 3d-printer a familiar electronic voice fills the room "preparing to print from file: cyberskunk.exe" i adjust the settings on my neo-bong. 69 kb/s, 420F the nanoweave display lights brighty with a new message code: |
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Oct 18, 2018 08:14
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"what's up, boss, you got enough RAM?" i jocularly ask the bouncer, using both index fingers to mimic the long-extinct animal of the same name. but before i can wink to indicate the playful nature of my question i am hit by his spring-loaded cyber-fist and thrust into the curb. happy to have had some brief but intense physical contact with another (mostly) human being, i retreat to my agnostic abode to brag about my anti-authoritarian actions to fellow chummers, which i ironically named chatb0t 1 to 5 on my cyber-deck. it's good to live in this cyber city, in this cyber-age.
lllllllllllllllllll fucked around with this message at 13:45 on Oct 18, 2018 |
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Oct 18, 2018 13:25
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Oct 18, 2018 15:08
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Drink-Mix Man posted:I've got my free hackathon tee on. Vape pen freshly packed with juice. Laptop stickers carefully cultivated. Slacks pressed to perfection. I'm ready. |
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Oct 18, 2018 17:30
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by0b |
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Oct 27, 2018 05:51
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Farecoal posted:by0b by0b: the shadows of the dark net |
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Oct 27, 2018 22:54
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| # ? May 6, 2024 00:28 |
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I wake up in a corner booth still sticky with the shame of last night's orgy at the most elite hooker club in San Francisco. God it smells terrible in here. Like even worse than last night. All the fake cheese powder and sickly sweet energy drink miasma can't mask the unwashed funk of the current occupants. I pull what's left of my fishnets over my flaccid cock and pick most of the feathers off my chrome buttplug (at least I hope it's mine) before depositing it in my clutch, wrap my boa around my neck and head towards the door. I look back and it seems nobody has noticed me. They're all staring at their computer screens, no other sound than the mechanical clicks of their keyboards and the crackle of mylar junk food bags. I tiptoe to the exit, heels in hand, and catch the eye of the bouncer. Same guy as last night. Tyrone? Tyrell? Tim? I mime a "what the gently caress" look at him and he just rolls his eyes and shrugs. Well, whatever pays the bills I guess. I head up the stairs and out into the fog. |
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Nov 3, 2018 04:28
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