chip from accounting, the roguish knave!

chip: im back! no need to thank me
coworkers: hes back!
chip: and i brought some friends! ha ha, just kidding
chip: i dont have any friends.

on his secret hard drive, chip from accounting has... forbidden things
hoarded en masse.

chip: recently i accumulated a few servers! my servers are my own business,
but of their grand development i am proud. they are bait for rare
new forms of digital life. even now, like discrete cesspools or petri
dishes in the eyes of the energy gods, new bacterium are forming...

chip: before we can proceed further...
assistant: yes, sir
chip: im afraid we must proceed into the lions den
chip: people joke about hr, but... im friends with them!
chip: devils though they be...
chip: the really bad place is...
chip: IT

chip: truth be told id rather be headed to the mailroom, but...
chip: these nerds know what theyre doing.

chips vast compound of servers, though it only occupies the area of
an average space heater or two, casts long shadows that extend beyond
its frame. on the wall they dance and form vague shapes.

chip: this is the door to it.
chip: notice how it gets a lot darker as you approach. there is
cheeto dust in the air as you enter what appears to be a damp space,
which appears as though it had once been sealed, but was recently opened.
the desks and cubicles wind to form unique, fortlike shapes.
every desk seems taller in the darkness. is that wind blowing? this
space seems like it might almost be extradimensional. who knows
what those *clearing throat* nerds, might be up to. you gotta be careful
i mean. my tastes run to the extreme, but not like this.

freddie "kvang" mckiosk
rumella nora
vlasha vlaskov

chip: sometimes im surprised at all the women we hire, but labor laws
have changed lately, though it still encourages an uncomfortable element.

chip: the old boys that used to work here... who knows whats become of them.
tsk tsk... i wouldnt be surprised if theyd left for... i mean, thats only
speculation. their musk still hangs heavy on this place. they made
me really, uh... uncomfortable.
chip: *exhale*
chip: even thinking about them
chip: *closer by 35%* gives me the creeps.
chip: they say theres a special place in hell for people like that, but
in my onion? im glad theyre gone.

the old nerds built a strange fort out of discarded desks. having sealed
themselves off from the tides of the world amniotically, they proceeded
into an unknown reality.

chip: fraternities often find hiring material in the mailroom, but theyre
not very well organized and lack planning capacity. as for the boss?
chip: in his old age he has deteriorated. this place's interior
decorating could use some work as well, since its geared toward organization.

chip: i invented my server to monitor and track contraband, dangerous
material online. lately ive had a change of heart, seeking to right
all the wrongs i did during my hoarding days. i cant seem to win
over middle management with my new algorithm, however. in this case,
we need Nerd Power (tm) to win over staff.
chip: id be lying if i said the technology hadnt been perfected
chip: but otoh
chip: nerds make good charts.

more ideas:
i enjoy making the wretched daughters of ancient, shitty old men
from media, adopted or otherwise. i like their aspects when projected
onto lesbianism minus the ridicule lesbian cartoon villains usually
and frequently receive.
voldemorts daughter
jafars 3 weird adopted daughters with the dank fighting, stealth
and survival skills who are skilled at diplomacy.
rasputin doesnt have a successor hes just extremely long-lived and hard
to even approach. maybe he recruits the youngest romanov and she kills
him instantly. just throwin it out there.

i mean drils own visage is just jack nicholson so maybe just find a
different headcanon for him that isnt "i am old, horrifying and incontinent"
football!dril
hamburger!dril