three_two_one | (no subject)

Felicity was trying to work on her digital map of the hotel. She just had a few more tweaks and the app would be ready for the smartphone network...but she couldn't stop staring at the little hunk of metal on her desk. The one she couldn't make work.

"God, I hate mysteries."

She picked it up and looked at it again. Nothing. Not a thrum of power, not a blip on her multimeter. Zip. Squat. Then, in one of those moments that was probably the start of a really bad idea, her eyes flicked from the tracker to the map. She tapped a few keys and called up the application and switched to design view. There it was, one of the doors that lead outside of the construct they lived in now. The arena.

Her feet were moving before her brain could remind her of a dozen impulsive ideas that never, ever turned out right. She only stopped long enough to grab her tablet, her multimeter, her phone, and a handful of different wires and components that she stuffed into her pocket as she walked.

Two hours later, though if you asked her she'd say she'd only been there ten minutes, she was recording the wave patterns of the information coming off the tracker and monitoring the power draw.

She was so focused, she didn't even see the monkeys gathering around her.

Threaded | Flat

Felicity had a talent for landing herself in trouble. If Oliver was going to be fair, he blamed himself for it; helping a vigilante never made for a life of peace and quiet. But he at least knew she enjoyed herself, and got to exercise her skills more than she might have if she was still in the IT department at Queen Consolidated.

And selfishly, Oliver was glad he'd taken the step to ask her aboard. She made for a good friend, especially when she was the only face he was pleased to see around the hotel. He wasn't surprised to see she wasn't in her room when he stopped by to see if she wanted to grab lunch, but was a little alarmed by the door creaking open when he knocked.

Oliver called her name as he walked in, and decided he was probably being worried for no reason. These weren't like most modern hotel doors - there was every possibility that a door didn't latch shut when it should have.

He was disappointed to see she wasn't there, that much Oliver could admit to himself. He gave the room one last look, and was prepared to leave when his eye caught her laptop. One of the many (and still too few, in some regards) things he knew about Felicity was her attachment to her electronics. Curiosity (and maybe a little worry) took over, and Oliver walked over to the laptop to see what she was last working on.

"Felicity," he hissed under his breath. He knew that door; had opened it accidentally one morning and the overwhelming smell of blood on the humid jungle air had kept him far away since. "What are you doing?"