Modus Operandi

Chapter 1: Security Incident Response

Sometimes, something in Dev/Null's brain just itched.

Ve considered it a message from the universe. Something trying to get ver attention. Usually ve knew what it was saying, but ve didn't always know what it meant -- a distinction that every Malkavian in history would know the difference between.

Cassandra might not be believed, but few Malkavians suffered from that particular malady; was it worse to have clear vision and not have one's communications believed, or to have pieces of knowledge and not be able to communicate it clearly, often even to oneself?

Dev/Null wasn't particularly bothered by it, in all honesty. Sometimes people came to speak to the nearest Malkavian seer they knew of, usually out of desperation, but the more unclear Dev/Null was about what ve knew, the less people tried to bother ver in ver own apartment. It wasn't unheard of (thank you, Samuel -- ve appreciated ver friend but had scolded him about uninvited guests after), but it did become rarer.

This one, though, was clearer than some -- though Dev/Null wasn't certain of the details, ve could make a few solid guesses, and ve had a feeling ve should prepare for visitors tonight after what ve was going to need to do.

Ve sighed, opening programs and pulling up the screens ve needed on ver computers.

Phineas Mason, also known (as of quite recently) as the Tinkerer, was a genius with technology in ways that a lot of people didn't understand. It wasn't that he was underestimated, just that people couldn't really wrap their heads around the extent of what he could do.

They were starting to get a better idea, which was good for the career that he'd slipped into. Making tech for Chameleon and acting as his hacker and overall electronics expert had been fun, and he didn't regret it for an instant. But when Doctor Octopus, initially under the name of the Master Planner, had hired him to invent things that Chameleon would never have had any reason to need, it had fed an even deeper enthusiasm in him.

He was a freelancer; he worked on commission, engineering and inventing for anyone who knew his reputation and was willing to pay what he asked -- and they'd certainly get what they paid for. Otto was open about not minding who he worked for -- they didn't own him, after all -- even if it was for their enemies, though Mason was careful about that. Not to not do it (though before the Green Goblin's unceremonious death, he'd had a feeling he'd be too dangerous to work for, and after his death and the revelation that he was Norman Osborn that had just solidified Mason's suspicions), but to make especially certain it was safe to do so.

Of course, there was some definite security in being too valuable to kill and having very powerful friends.

Despite his freelancing, however, the Tinkerer was still connected to the Sinister Six. It was unofficial and no one outside the Six knew just how deeply his ties ran, but to anyone who knew him it probably wouldn't be a surprise. Mysterio was with the Sinister Six, after all, as a seemingly permanent member at this point, or at least for the foreseeable future, and Mysterio wouldn't exist without the Tinkerer's tech. And Doctor Octopus's policy of letting people fly free if they wished had many criminals returning to their open branches. Tinkerer was not unique in that regard.

So even while working on projects for other people, Mason was keeping an eye on things for the Six.

Some of it was just paying attention to the news, but he also liked to check in on various security cameras and make sure he wasn't missing anything. At the moment, the Sinister Six was lying low... Some more low than others. Marko was still presumed dead by everyone outside their little group, attempting to avoid Tombstone's notice, though after Valentine's Day he was cautiously considering coming back. Electro was in Ravencroft and easily retrievable whenever Otto decided to make a move; O'Hirn was in Ryker's and would require a little more effort. There were pros and cons to Beck's latest Mysteriobot being found out and destroyed, but at least it meant that Mysterio could be called upon whenever needed again. Kraven was spending his time with Calypso but was otherwise on call, and Otto and Adrian were free and possibly planning. Mason was sanguine; he knew that if he was needed, or needed to know something, Otto would tell him.

Until then, he was keeping an eye on the situation at Ravencroft and Ryker's, was keeping an ear out for reports of Spider-Man's movements, was tinkering with the Beckdroids and a bulletproof cape he so far wasn't thrilled with (it just didn't move like fabric should)... As well as working on a few commissions: Version 2.0 of the suit he'd made for Silvio Manfredi (the hydraulics were an embarrassment, frankly, but while Sable Manfredi had been willing to pay the deadline had been ridiculously tight, and he'd made it clear at the time that it would limit him), something that could absorb the soundwaves from that suit for Tombstone (which could also be used to nullify Shocker's gauntlets, so that would come in handy for a lot of reasons), and various non-lethal bomb variants for the new supervillain in town, a hopeful and theatrical mercenary going by the name of Hobgoblin. No relation, he assured, to Osborn -- which meant it at least wasn't the guy's wife or kid, if he was telling the truth.

Actors. Despite his penchant for rolling his eyes at them, Mason was also drawn to them, it seemed.

Spider-Man seemed to be keeping himself busy with low-level thugs at the moment. Not even anyone working for any of the power players, as far as Mason could tell, just everyday burglars. He was only somewhat paying attention to that, not all that interested in it and only somewhat relieved that the vigilante was halfway across the city from him, when a readout on one of the screens gave him pause.

He hesitated, then finished connecting a few wires and carefully closed up the smoke bomb he was working on. He stepped over to the computer, checking over what he'd just seen again.

This wasn't exactly the same as the modem that he and Adrian had assembled for Otto back before the New Year. That had probably been overreaching, or rather he should have paid more attention to his discomfort about the power fluctuations and tried to caution against Doctor Octopus connecting the system directly to their own brain, even with firewalls in place. That situation had gone badly, and fortunately Otto wasn't the sort to want to try the exact same thing a second time.

Having access to all the cameras and open systems in New York City, at least, was incredibly beneficial, though, and Mason was happy to help them reach that goal again. This computer system was not meant for a direct neurological connection -- Tinkerer was just not sure that could be made safe at this point, period, even with him working on it -- but it was still among the most impressive systems on the planet, he was sure.

The fact that someone seemed to have hacked into it, even through all the security it had -- and it had a lot -- was a shock. Mason was torn between concern, admiration, and feeling a bit put out, honestly.

He touched the headset at his ear, extending the mic and connecting to Otto. "Doctor Octopus?"

"Yes, Tinkerer?" Otto's voice was soothing as ever; more than patient, they was obviously unbothered to reorient their attention to whatever Mason had to say. He might not be an official member of the Sinister Six, but Otto went out of their way to make it clear that he was a valuable part of things. He had to appreciate that.

"We have a problem. Someone's hacked into the panoptic system."

There was a beat, and Mason could only imagine Otto was as taken-aback as he had been. "...What? What are they doing?"

"Right now, not much. I think they're just keeping an eye on what we're doing, at the moment. They don't seem to be trying to hijack it for their own purposes."

"Find them." No question as to whether or not the Tinkerer could find them. Of course he could; both of them were certain of that, and Doctor Octopus's words were not a surprise. Mason was already starting to trace the connection.

"Already on it."

It wasn't a surprise that whoever was doing this was good; it would have been a lot more surprising if they weren't excellent. But Mason was confident in his own brilliance, and the Tinkerer proceeded to follow the proxy chain through each IP link. Once he reached the end, then he could work on figuring out exactly where it was coming from.

"They're probably going to know I'm doing this," he cautioned. Which meant that once he'd found them, they could still move pretty easily.

"Even an abandoned building will give us some information," Otto assured him, almost merry again as they added, "Perhaps if they're within line of sight of one of our cameras, hm?"

Mason smiled briefly himself, even concentrating as he was. "We can hope. --Wait..."

"Yes?" Otto alerted to the change in his tone of voice.

Mason had to double-check, then triple-checked it for good measure. "Someone rerouted me. Or rerouted the hack. I'm not even sure how they did this, but I wasn't at the end of the chain, and now I am. Except I'm sure it's not the same chain, and that trail is gone."

"What?" Otto sounded shocked. "That... should be impossible. You're certain of this, Tinkerer?"

"Believe me," he checked it again, but the data was the same. "...Even if I can hardly believe it myself. The original trail's cold, but at least I can find whoever did this. They might want me to be able to, though," he cautioned. If they could somehow completely erase the data on the original hacker's IPs, the fact that he had access to theirs seemed purposeful, and he didn't like not knowing why. He might be the inventor and technical genius, but he was also support in other ways -- he was the one responsible for extractions and getaways.

Doctor Octopus seemed far less intimidated. "Then let us meet them," they said, "and find out why."

Dev/Null lowered ver hands from where they had been hovering just in front of ver many computer screens, moving through the air like a finger painter or conductor. Moving through the code. It had rearranged, settled into its new spaces or gone off elsewhere, and Dev/Null looked over ver results with a discerning eye.

The universe was just data -- manipulable data. That was the belief of the Virtual Adepts, and Dev/Null might not have been a mage in years but ve still knew that belief was what shaped the universe. Even if ver beliefs had been rattled, in recent nights ve had regained some control over what ve had been able to do before ver Embrace... Though ve made sure to practice it alone, in secret.

Only ver old Chantry knew ver past, and they did not know to find ver here. Better to lean into ver Malkavian self, wrap the Madness Network around verself like a cloak while in public, and keep verself safe.

Ve did pull up ver email, typing in the address that came to ver as the correct one and sending a simple message: You're welcome.

The answer didn't take long. We disconnected and he was still tracing us! How did you fix that?

Dev/Null considered ver answer to that. I had a feeling I should take a look at what you were taking a look at. The answer came to me, or did it leave to you? I can't say how, or won't say, or shan't say. But I will say -- he's good. He'll work on it until he's got it. You'll need to be careful if you're going to be careful through careful observation.

It was a shame to play up the Malkavian thing to the Nosferatu of all people. Dev/Null was inclined to really like the clan, though individuals could be as disappointing as individuals of any group could. But ve didn't want to give away too much right now, and unless ve misdirected, any Nosferatu worth their fangs would dig and dig until they found out the answers.

It did feel especially disappointing to have to obfuscate like this while using SchreckNet. Dev/Null really, really appreciated this particular invention of the Nosferatu clan.

There was a pause, and then the Nosferatu -- checking the email address, this was probably the Primogen, a fairly new to the position Anarch-inclined sort called Judah -- responded, You're that Malkavian techie. Dev/Null. Well, if you're running with the Dracs I won't let slip to anyone. Either way you're good in my book. Just let us know if anything else comes to you, yeah?

Dev/Null's reply was solemn: I am that Malkavian techie, yes. I won't be a stranger. Well. No stranger than usual! Give Samuel my love.

If the message was passed on, Samuel might figure out that ve would like to talk to him -- he'd known ver long enough, but sometimes misinterpreted still. It wasn't pressing anyway; ve just liked to keep in the loop in multiple different ways, and sorting through text on the internet and waiting for missives from the Madness Network were only two of those ways, and could sometimes prove lacking.

Ve skipped right over the implication that ve might be a "Drac." That would be one of the Digital Draculas. Though they were still more of a West Coast thing, they'd spread throughout America and even into Europe in small numbers, and Dev/Null filed the possibility away. Ve wasn't of course, and ve wasn't inclined to become one despite ver curiosity; Judah was a more classical Anarch -- the sort that supported the Camarilla through being willing to keep it in line, loudly and by force if necessary -- while the Digital Draculas had more of the wild, directionless, rebel-without-a-cause leanings of the Anarch Free States.

Dev/Null wasn't Camarilla, wasn't Anarch, wasn't Sabbat. Wasn't anything, and didn't intend to become anything for some time, either. Ve helped anyone ve felt ve should help and floated through the world on the outside otherwise, too harmless and weird to attract too much notice or thought. But the Digital Draculas had started out Tremere, and they liked to teach Thaumaturgy to anyone of any clan that wished to join them. That could come in handy; it was worth remembering.

Ve wasn't in the habit of hosting, or actually preparing for even a visitor ve had a feeling was coming. Still, this was a Masquerade issue. That was the whole point. Ver windows were already boarded up, but ve drew the blackout curtains, then went to move the blood bags in ver fridge into a large, insulated lunch bag that ve then put back into ver fridge. That someone might bother opening ver fridge was unlikely but possible; that someone would bother to open up any containers in there was far more unlikely unless they had a very specific reason.

Then ve pulled up ver own footage of the security cameras in ver building -- much easier to just access those than to ask to have a buzzer installed -- encrypted several key files and programs, and then brought up solitaire to pass the time with something that wouldn't say anything Kindred or about ver as a person and settled in to wait.

Mason wasn't the driver this time, or set to be the getaway driver after. That was Beck's role -- more able to be plainclothes than most of the Six outside Marko, who didn't want to reveal he was still alive just yet, and able to set up illusions if need be. Just in case they ran into trouble. The only other one of them very capable of going plainclothes and slipping under people's radar was Adrian, who, in case they ran into another kind of trouble, was going to be in the air nearby.

This time, Tinkerer was going inside with Doctor Octopus, in the unlikely event that there was anything there that they'd need someone of his expertise to take a look at.

"I understand your concerns completely," Otto had soothed, and Mason believed them. He really did. "If you would rather not accompany me until the location's safety can be confirmed..."

"No, it should be fine," Mason had assured. "From what I can tell, it's coming from an apartment building. No one's going to try anything too flashy in there." It was very unlikely to be another supervillain, or a criminal would-be rival, setting a trap. Disgruntled cybersecurity, maybe a freelance grey hat hacker, but the odds were a lot better that someone had used an empty apartment or broke in and was long gone now than that this would actually be dangerous.

Still, he couldn't help feeling some concern. Beck reached out and let one's hand brush his arm as he got out of the van, and he spared a moment to give one a faint smile.

"Break a leg," Beck told him casually.

"We're probably going to be playing to empty seats," Mason predicted.

It was always possible that Otto would be recognized, especially the more Doctor Octopus was seen in the news. But they and Mason, leaving the van, were an entirely unremarkable picture, other than Otto's goggles. Just two unassuming figures, not threatening in any way, wearing long coats that suited the chill in the air; Otto's metal arms were concealed under their jacket, and their expression was pleasant as they entered the apartments.

Mason was a hacker it would be terrible to underestimate; there was no one at the desk and no one stopped them from going right up the stairs to the exact apartment he'd been able to narrow things down to. Almost no one else would be able to do that, as far as he knew, but he could.

"This is terrible security," he muttered to Otto.

"Yes," Otto agreed, voice musing. "I see why they chose to use this building."

Only when they were outside the door did Doctor Octopus extend their arms from their coat, using one to delicately try the doorknob. It opened, which was not much of a surprise, but it also revealed a very much still there computer setup, which Mason hadn't entirely been expecting. There were multiple towers, multiple speaker systems, and even more monitors, lit up -- the system was still on.

It took a moment to even notice the person sitting in the chair; they were short, and slouched, and only when they turned slightly in their seat to peer at them did Mason register their presence.

"No one ever knocks," the figure noted. For a moment they seemed about to say something else, but then after a pause, they giggled, apropos of nothing.

Mason's eyes went from the figure in the chair, up to the monitors, and then back. Solitaire on one of the screens, security footage of what he was pretty sure was the apartment's lobby on another. The hacker -- because he suddenly suspected this was the hacker, not just some random innocent whose apartment the hacker had used -- was tiny, looked to be in their mid to late twenties. Japanese-American, with small round sunglasses and hair so messy it didn't seem artful but instead more like a critical case of bed head.

"Pardon us," Otto said, recovering quickly, voice mild as ever, but they shifted from walking on their feet to their tentacles, lifting themself up a bit. Bigger, asserting a bit more control over the situation. "But we did notice your handiwork. Is this your apartment?"

"It's where I keep my things," the hacker allowed. "Including me. Those must come in handy. Is that how you're gonna be an octopus about this..."

"You do know who we are, then," Doctor Octopus said. "Good. That does make things easier."

They reached out with their tentacles, turning the chair towards them and then plucking the hacker out of it. It was gentle, rather than threatening -- in any way except inherently; it was hard not to be intimidating when dragging someone around with metal limbs that could crush a car -- simply moving them towards themself and away from the chair and computer system.

"Tinkerer, if you would?"

Tinkerer nodded, heading over to turn the computer back towards the setup and slip into it. He half-listened as he started going through likely-looking files and programs, trying to figure out what exactly had been done here, as Doctor Octopus questioned the little hacker.

"Now... Who are you?"

"Dev/Null. Ve/ver. Like the sound of a humming processor." There was a tension to Dev/Null's voice that hadn't been there before, but ve dangled there like a cat being held by ver scruff, limbs limp, not fighting.

Doctor Octopus nodded to themself, as if confirming something. "As in 'null device'."

"The byte bucket," ve agreed. "The black hole... People do send their complaints to me."

"I see. You are one of us, then... Not costumed, perhaps, but taking a new name to accompany a new freedom."

Tinkerer was equally fascinated and frustrated to be getting nowhere, and glanced back, noticing that Dev/Null had started running ver fingers over a lanyard at ver pocket in quick, stressful motions.

"We're all free from something. Home free. Or free home? Or the home row keys. You won't find what you're looking for, no matter how long you tinker at it," ve added, twisting like a cat suddenly in the tentacles' hold. "At least -- not here."

"Ve's right," Tinkerer informed Doctor Octopus, frowning as he stood. "I don't know what ve did to this thing, but anything even possibly important is encrypted at least three different ways." Dev/Null was switching between toying with ver lanyard and drumming the fingers of one hand, the other, both, against ver legs, equally frenetic motions. He looked at ver, noticing ver agitation, and made a decision. "I don't think ve's going to do anything. You can put ver down."

Doctor Octopus frowned, more quizzical than anything, but lowered Dev/Null to the floor, letting ver go completely after a moment. Ve adjusted ver clothing in sharp little movements, ver poofy vest that looked a decade out of date, ver glasses, and then backed away before turning to retreat to ver chair.

'Let me try' Mason mouthed to Otto behind ver back, and shifted into the other part of his job. Not every way of getting into a system required hacking, and it was often a lot more effective not to try brute-forcing it. Phishing worked just as well.

Mason knew from experience that threatening someone to talk... well, it could work, but it often didn't, and it was unpleasant. Dev/Null seemed panicky, not fearful in ver expressions a moment ago but rocking slightly in ver chair now, hands pressed together and tapping ver forefingers together without a rhythm. Even not threatening ver, the way Otto had been holding ver up seemed like it had been a bit too much, and talking to ver like that it was unlikely they'd get much out of ver.

But Mason was good with people. He wasn't an actor like Chameleon or Beck, but neither was he bad at it, and when it came to being the public, normal, law-abiding face for ordinary people (including cops!), he stepped in to handle it.

This also wasn't the only time he'd talked to someone on the verge of an anxiety attack or a meltdown, though it had been years. He hadn't forgotten how to be unthreatening and soothing, though, and looked around for another chair. He settled for a box instead, pulling it over near, but not right next to, not too close to where Dev/Null was sitting at ver computer.

He faced away from the system, not metaphorically or literally looking over Dev/Null's shoulder or giving an indication of prying further. Otto's metal arms were curling and waving slightly in the air, idle motions as they watched quietly, but they seemed to recognize Mason's approach and smiled at him.

"You can tell your little birdie you're safe," Dev/Null said abruptly, leaning back in ver chair so far that the back of it creaked and bent slightly. "No bomb in this safe haven. This is the sequel."

"All right," Mason agreed, shrugging at Otto as their brow creased. He didn't follow that last bit, but obviously the hacker had guessed that Vulture was probably patrolling outside, waiting literally in the wings, and that they'd suspected this might be a trap.

As Otto murmured into their headset, Mason glanced over, not trying to catch Dev/Null's eye and not watching ver full-on, but wanting to keep tabs on ver mood and responses. Ve still seemed stressed, though ver expression was clear. "Do you mind if I ask why you hacked in from your apartment?"

"Wires like a nervous system," Dev/Null said immediately. "Transplant... not impossible, but--" they gestured to the various towers and screens, "--it'd take so long."

Mason huffed a laugh, honestly surprised by the sudden seeming levity. "Point taken. And most people probably couldn't have traced your exact location. Just like most people couldn't do what you did."

"I'm not most people," Dev/Null agreed, but continued, "You're not most people. Not easy for one or two people to be most people. But we're not just anyone, or anyone just?"

"I think that depends on what you mean by 'just'," Mason said, gamely trying to humor that odd turn.

Dev/Null's chair spun and ve steepled ver fingers as ve suddenly looked at him. "Yes -- everything depends on what you mean by anything!"

"Dev/Null." Mason met ver eyes for a moment, then looked over to the computer monitor still showing the apartment lobby. The one connected to the building's security cameras. "Why did you hack into our system?"

"The rabbits needed to scurry back to their warren," ve explained without explaining much. "So a fox came out to make them disappear, and distract the king's men. Or queen's men? Gender is doubly fake in chess," ve turned ver head to address Otto then, "and the queen can move across the board..."

"Why do you speak like this?" Otto asked, but was back to baseline gentle, curious and a bit bemused, feet back on the floor.

"I'm a Jester," Dev/Null said, cocking ver head and spinning back in ver chair towards the computer again. Ve drummed ver fingers on the keyboard, then opened up a program and began typing. Mason glanced over at it, but it didn't seem very interesting or related to anything. "You don't understand yet, but you will. Or -- maybe you won't. That depends on you."

"I think I understand it a little," Mason said. "You managed to erase the rest of the proxy chain that would lead us to some friends of yours, and let us find you as a distraction. But why were they watching us?"

"Just watching." One of Dev/Null's hands went to drum on the arm of ver chair; with the other ve continued typing. Much more clear, suddenly, ve said, "Please don't ask for more from me. You really won't find answers here. You're important people, and a lot of people want to keep an eye on you... You'll find out who soon enough, if you do what you're going to do anyway, but I can't tell you. No spoilers. Moderation's strict about it."

That last was a little less clear again. Mason did feel like they were heading towards a dead end, though, and sighed. "Fair enough. Sorry to break in, Dev/Null. Next time we want to talk to you, I'll call ahead."

"I'll be here," Dev/Null said, and gave a quick, tight-lipped smile down at ver keyboard. "I hate leaving the house."

Tinkerer took a notepad and pen out of his pocket, writing down the email he used for professional contacts in lieu of asking Dev/Null to give out ver own, then tore it out of the pad and left it beside the keyboard. Ve paused in typing, but didn't say further anything while he and Doctor Octopus left.

"Well done, Phineas," Otto murmured on their way back down the stairs, tucking their metal arms fastidiously back under their coat. "Do you think ve'll contact you?"

"I'm not sure. If ve doesn't, I'll come up with a reason to call down in a week. Ve's a genius hacker," Mason noted. "Better than I am, and I don't say that lightly. But I'm not sure ve has much practice with social engineering. If we can get ver to share even a little more information freely..."

"We can find these 'rabbits' of vers," Otto agreed. "Then I leave things in your capable hands. So long as they intend to merely watch, we have all the time in the world..."

Dev/Null just had time to slip the email that the Tinkerer had so kindly offered to ver under ver keyboard before Samuel arrived.

Ver friend was concerned, touchingly so, slipping in quietly and looking Dev/Null up and down (well, somewhat; ve was tiny) with intent worry. "I passed one of those supervillains on the second floor landing coming up," he said. "Are you all right?"

Samuel was always so sweet, Dev/Null mused. He underestimated ver and sometimes was too eager to talk ver up to people who then wanted to see ver, but the past few years had filed off a lot of his edges in a good way, and the older he got, the more at home in all this he'd be. It was a good thing he'd finally really settled into the Warren, even if Dev/Null had heard through rumor and through the whispers of the Madness Network that this Warren was... somewhat ailing. Judah had helped, but could only help so much when the entirety of New York City was ailing, Dev/Null suspected.

"You passed two!" ve informed him, and turned ver chair to smile at him. "I'm fine. They just came to talk. Well, they came to listen, but they did more talking in the end. So how's tricks?"

It wasn't that ve didn't trust Samuel; that wasn't why ve'd concealed the email. But something told ver that ve really shouldn't interfere with these next few parts, and wouldn't need to. Ve hadn't known that the Sinister Six would learn about Kindred before that little meeting, but now ve just had a feeling...

Well, they'd learn one way or another, ve was sure now. Whether they all survived learning it probably depended on multiple factors, but part of it was definitely on them. Until then, best that Dev/Null didn't reveal any more to them and didn't say too much about what ve thought and felt and suspected to any of the Nosferatu or their people.

If the Tinkerer had overheard the conversation Dev/Null had with Samuel, in which ve didn't say much of anything at all about how their little meeting had gone but he told ver all he knew about the new Nosferatu come to visit New York and his ghouls, Mason wouldn't have been so confident that Dev/Null didn't know ver way around social engineering.